ON MY KNEES

Needed to get possessive alpha bakugo off my chest, ill prolly write a sequel to this tmrw cuz i got some ideas

Tw: noncon, omegaverse

thinking about childhood possessive bakugo who's pined for his omega since she joined the pack Time after time again since you were kids he'd always tried to get close to you, using a number of strange to threatening courting techniques. It was benign at first when you both were young, with him jumping up the large apple tree to get you the juiciest fruit you could never seem to reach, but when you two grew older and played together with the rest of the pack, his efforts seemed more...possessive.

He'd always single you out and force you to be on his team, following up with growling at you whenever you'd run more than a few paces in front of away from him. His sleek gold and black coat would brush up against you constantly, as if only touching you would satiate his desire for your proximity. Bloodred eyes would glare at you when you'd shyly back away at dinnertime, opting to sit away from his intense gaze.

Not like he'd let you get that far.

When it would come time for bathing with your sisters, somehow, everytime you'd be out of the loop and would end up being forced to wash yourself on your own in the cold water.

Little did you know your sisters were not-so-kindly encouraged to not communicate their congregation to you by a certain fiery alpha.

And so when everyone was by the fire, barking out laughter and telling stories of their weekly hunt, you'd sulk to the riverside by yourself, clutching your towel over your shivering body as youd sink closer in the shallow water.

You wanted to get it done as fast as possible so you could join your pack in merry-making, haphazardly scraping dirt off your paws and washing the crevices between your ears.

But as soon as you take a step towards the lush bank, you hear a heavy splash behind you.

You whip around, ears drawn back immeditaley after seeing the alpha who shamelessly follows you around like he's already claimed you.

"W-whatre you doing here? Everyone's by the..fire..." you trail off unsurely as his spiked-up wet mane shakes in laughter. His lack of concern for the reprimands he'll undoubtedly recieve for being this physically close to you send faint warning alarms at the back of your head. Usually he glowers at you and turns tail, but this is new.

"I thought the pack leaders told you to leave me alone," your lip wobbles as your tone borders on fear and indignation. Your brothers had always kept you safe from him, snarling and hiding you behind their tall legs whenever he was around. Bakugo never seemed to give up though, his own flashing teeth and sick grin mirroring their own worry pulled back from their lips.

"Yeah? But you're here though."

You swallow hard and hope he doesn't hear your whimper as you splash backwards towards the bank, but his low grumble of pleasure upon smelling your sweet fear-omones says otherwise. It proves to him that you're not as immune as your other brothers swear you are to protect yourself against him, theyre actually worried for a reason.

They know you'd never stand a chance against him.

And his muscles do ripple amid the water as he steadily stalks towards you, leering as he licks his canines and trains his eyes on your feeble form.

It seems like as fast as you flail backwards towards unseen safety, he advances twice as fast, and within seconds your back hits a hard and scratchy surface.

Bakugo chuckles a humorless laugh as you've nestled yourself in a nice, private corner away from the mainland where everyone can see you. You've backed both of you into an enormous concaved treetrunk, one that circles around 10ft and only one opening...

which you've trapped yourself in.

The roots of various plants that have grown inside this hollowed out trunk provide little cushion as you whimper and try to desperatley climb the walls.

"When are you gonna give up?"

His voice is low, raspy with mixed want and bitterness.

"S-stop, stay away from me or I'll call for h-"

"When are you gonna realize you can't escape me?" He harshly whispers right at your ear as he lunges toward you, causing you to squeal with terror.

He nips your soft ear and inhales your neck, craning his own to get a good look at the sensitive unclaimed part of your neck.

His hands grip your sides and mold the squishy parts as though they were dough, his greediness increasing exponentially as he lowers his drooling mouth to your ear and laves his wet tongue over the planes of your neck and shoulder.

You begin to shake and sob, never having been dealt with him actually touching you and being a victim to his lust. You've taken the protection of your brothers for granted, and oh how you wish you could softly howl out if you had the courage to ask for help.

But the blonde's presence itself is enough of a threat to your life and safety, that much being made clear as his hands grow claws, no doubt his physical appearance shifting from being so riled up. Your skin prick and cuts as his nails jab harder into you, his hands roaming up and down your back, feeling your hips and ghosting over the swell of your ass as well as chest.

You writhe against him which unbeknownst to you, pushes your naked chest out against his own shredded pecs, your pebbled nipples grazing his toned skin and practically making his eyes roll back in efforts not to pin you down and take you like his bitch.

"I just wanted to wash," your voice comes out pleading, and meek. You have no idea how he'll react to you being aggressive and defensive against his assault even if you had the courage to speak out against him.

"And I want to claim you as my omega," he growls directly in your ear, causing you to whine again and cower your head beneath his hounding mouth. "But I guess we'll both have to wait for what we want, huh?"

He knows you know.

You have to know.

Have to have known how badly he wants you, wants to hear your voice ring high with laughter like you do teasing your sisters, wants to hear your playful growls as you wrestle with your brothers who let you win just to see you swish your tail with prowess. He wants to feel you rest your head on his chest, wants to see you look up at him with security and ease, knowing that he's there to protect and love you.

But how can he explain that, with years of nothing but threatening looks and yards of distance between you two?

If it brings you familiarity and perhaps ease of seeing him as you've always thought to have known him, as a brute with nothing on his mind apart from taking you like an animal and conquering you, then he'll save the monologuing for later.

"After all," he heaves in the darkness of the seclusion, voicing his thoughts, "your birthday's coming up, right? You'll be of age to be claimed."

He thrusts his knee in between your trembling legs, pushing your shoulders down while following with his head and never letting his mouth rise above your unclaimed mark. You gasp as he begins grinding his knee in circles against your hooded clit, bouncing you lightly to evoke whatever sweet noises he can from your pursed lips.

You choke and sputter, suddenly grasping around his neck for leverage as you try to pull yourself up, but you're no match for him as it only serves to prove his point and enrage him from your constant rejection.

You can lie to him all you want, but your body never will.

"And trust me, little girl, when that cunt ripens for me to take, when that neck fucking sings for me to lay my mark-"

Your voice cracks into a howl as he takes one of his hands and squeezes the fat of your tit while the other spanks your jiggling ass on his knee, feeling whiplash from the onslaught of sensations.

"-I can promise you, there's no running. There's no cowering behind your brother's legs like some fucking baby, there's no using your sisters as an excuse to turn your face away from me."

Bakugo presses you tight against the wall, smothering you chest-to-chest with him and using the confined space to rut his naked erection against your thigh, his hips snapping forward and chasing years of needed release in your presence.

"I'll tie you down on my bed, face down ass-up and breed you as my bitch. I'll take you bent over and wrapped around me against every surface and floor of our secluded cave."

You blubber as you can feel yourself coming to a high, the water splashing obnoxiously at your humping against each other. In an effort to keep your pride, you try as hard as you can to grit your teeth and delay your orgasm, but he seems to catch on pretty quick.

"And then," he drops your tit and uses both hands to pry your asscheeks apart, impaling you impossibly closer down on the hard bone of his knee, your clit grating deliciously as his leg vibrates and flexes from moving you back and forth, up and down, any direction he can get your teeth to latch onto your lip and pussy clench on nothing.

"Then, you won't have to hide that pretty voice anymore. I'll get those years of silence back in exchange for your screams for help."

At this, he hugs you flush against the wall and himself as you shake from your orgasm, the water rippling at your reaction.

"So if I were you, I'd be grateful for any solitude from now on. Because you won't be getting it anymore."

kirishima x bakugou x f!reader

summary - you're a shy transfer student who's paired with kirishima for a project, by chance, you meet his boyfriend. porn with not a lot of plot.

a/n - smut, threesome, bakugou and kirishima are both bi and so is reader, college au, quirkless au, praise, degradation, shy reader, sorry for slandering shinsou, unprotected sex, face fucking, impact play, cumplay ig im, i forgot that this was mostly filth when i went to re edit it. repost from my old blog, katsupeach. kirishima and bakugou's heights are described but they're bigger than you, daddy kink, some mild hurt comfort, they like you more than a one night stand isn't that nice.

MINORS DNI - You must have an age visible on your page somewhere to interact with this post.

Being paired with the sunny extroverted football player for your essay project wasn’t your worst nightmare, but only because your subconscious was rarely so creatively cruel. You traced the assignment with your finger, checking again to make sure that it was right. F/N L/N, Kirishima Eijirou. Fuck. You look up, and to your embarrassment, he’s looking over at you, and you make eye contact. He shoots you a bright smile that you attempt to return. Professor Aizawa continues talking about the project, but you’re not listening, you’re too busy wiping your clammy hands on your jeans. You dart out of the classroom, through the hallways, and onto the quad but of course, he catches you. 

“Hey, hey y/n!” Shit. You turn around and there he is, towering over you. 

“Hi.” You say. 

“Do you wanna exchange numbers? Talk about the project?” He grins at you. “You’re a transfer, right? 

“Yeah,” you say quickly. “Don’t worry about the project, I’ll just do it. I don’t mind.” He blinks at you. 

“No, uh, no way,” He sheepishly touches the back of his neck. “I can’t letcha do that, I promise I won’t hold you back.” You swallow nervously. 

“It’s really fine.” You respond, barely audible. He shakes his head. 

“Come on, I won’t be that bad.” He reaches out to touch your upper arm and you flinch from him. “Sorry, I just,” he withdraws his hand, “Let’s get coffee if you don’t have class? On me.” You tuck your hair behind your ears. 

“Oh, um sure.” He leads you to the student union, chattering about the reading, making it so you barely have to fill in the blanks of the conversation. He leans down to you when you get to the barista, 

“Whaddya want, I’ll order for you.” 

“Just a latte.” You say. He moves around you to order, careful not to touch you. 

“She’ll have a latte, and I’ll have a Caramel Frappucino.” He says, smiling gently at you. “Let’s grab a booth, it’ll be quieter.” You let him lead you across the busy student union, holding both of your hot coffees. He’s right, it’s a little quieter in the booth. “Do you have any ideas?” 

“Yeah,” You tuck your hair behind your ears. “I was thinking, maybe um something about, the pre-raphaelites, and how their ultra-realism was a revolution that actually went so hard that it transcended realism to become nonrepresentational.” He blinks at you. 

“Yeah, uh, okay, let’s do that.” You sigh. 

“Just let me do it.” 

“No, no,” he says quickly, “I’m a little behind in the reading, that’s all, I’ll catch up and then I’ll understand. Let’s look now, at one of the paintings, and you can explain it to me.” You take a sip of your coffee and flip to a page in your three hundred dollar textbook, complete with glossy colored pictures. 

“This is Ophelia, by John Edwin Millais.” He looks at the pale woman lying in the reeds. 

“Oh shit, is she dead?” You swallow. 

“Yeah, of course, she is, she’s Ophelia.” He looks sheepish. “From Hamlet. She pretty famously dies.” He looks even more sheepish. 

“Uh, okay.” He puts his palms up. “Tell you what, I will catch up on the reading. I will. And then we can divide up work, and get started. I will not be the mean jock that makes you do this yourself. I refuse.” 

“Frankly that’s more honor than I expected from you.” He laughs, touching the back of his neck. 

“Jeez. Sorry that my fellow athletes did ya so dirty. Scouts honor, I won’t leave you high and dry.” He’s oozing sincerity. You don’t trust it. 

“Okay.” He raises his eyebrows and then straightens. 

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me now. I’m gonna prove it.” He looks down at the textbook. “Okay, she’s dead, keep explaining.” 

“So she’s dead, but look at all the flowers around her. Her death is a tragedy, and it’s considered one of the most eloquent descriptions of death in literature.” 

“Ooh,” Kirishima takes his phone out. “Let me google it. What’s it from again?” You smile nervously. 

“It’s Lady Gertrude’s speech, from Hamlet.” He squints at his screen. 

“Wait, what language is this in?” You laugh a little despite yourself. 

“English,” you say, “give it here, I’ll demonstrate.” He hands you his phone, it’s cool and heavy in your hands. “No case?” 

“I don’t drop things.” He says, a hint of pride in his voice. You laugh, genuinely. 

“There, on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds, Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,” your voice is low, Kirishima leans in across the table to hear what you’re saying. “When down her weedy trophies and herself, Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,” He feels a blush creep onto his cheeks, there’s something almost sensual about the music of your words. “Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes, As one incapable of her own distress,” Kirishima’s breath hitches in his throat. 

“Oh,” he interrupts you, “Oh I get it.” You nod. “Wait but please don’t stop.” He begs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Go on.” You give him a small smile. 

“Or like a creature native and endued unto that element. But long it could not be

till that her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay, to muddy death.” He sighs with happiness. 

“Wow.” He breathes. “Reading Shakespeare doesn’t feel like that.” 

“That’s because he wrote plays,” you explain, “And plays, like poetry, were always meant to be experienced as spoken word entertainment rather than read.” He nods vigorously. 

“That makes so much sense!” He grins, still leaning rather close to you across the table. 

“Oi, shitty hair!” Someone snarls and you jump, gasping in surprise. “And what the fuck is wrong with you?” Bakugou Katsuki, loud, brash, and Quarterback of the football team leans over your table. You shrink from him. 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima chastizes. “You can’t snap at people like that. You scared the shit out of her, I just got her to start talking to me.” He shakes his head. “Y/n, I’m sorry, this is my boyfriend.” You blink in surprise. “Yeah, we’re both bi.” He confirms, fielding your expression with expert precision. Bakugou elbows his way next to Kirishima in the booth, dropping his textbooks. “Y/n was just reading me some Shakespeare for context on this.” He points to the Millais, your textbook still lying open. 

“That Ophelia?” He asks you and you nod. “So you were reading him Lady Gertrude’s speech.” You blink at him. “Yeah, we’re not all fuckin’ idiots.” He says, hitting Kirishima lightly on the back of the head. “But go ahead, I want to hear it.” 

“Oh um,” your face burns. “I was done. I mean it’s a short passage.” 

“Something else then,” he grins, “I like to watch him struggle.” Kirishima swats at his boyfriend, who dodges and smiles. You hand him his phone back.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say and he narrows his eyes, and scrolls through his phone. 

“Shitty hair we’ll give you somethin’ easy, just tell us what this means.” 

“Why can’t you read it?” You say a little annoyed and he grins. 

“You’ll see.” He selects something on his phone and then hands it to you. 

“Oh.” You say, a scowl forming on your lips, seeing Katherine’s monologue. “You want me to read the Shakespearean equivalent of yes sir, I would be happy to make you that sandwich?” 

“What?” Kirishima blinks. Bakugou looks like he’s about to speak but you cut him off. 

“Kirishima look at me.” He does. “This was the first thing we were supposed to read in this course. Have you done any of the reading for this class?” Kirishima goes bright red, shrinking nervously from Bakugou. 

“Shitty hair?” Bakugou growls. “Skippin’ out on the reading, huh?” You raise your eyebrows and start to gather your things. Kirishima buries his face in his hands. 

“Wait,” you stop and look at him, you’d already stood to make your escape. “Please help me study, please help me catch up.” He eyes Bakugou. “He’s the meanest tutor, and I feel like you wouldn’t be.” You sigh. 

“Kirishima, we’re not even friends.” You reach for your coffee but he looks so hurt that you pause. Bakugou snorts. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where it took you more than five minutes to make friends with someone,” he eyes you, “What’s your deal? You’re a transfer, right?” Your hands shake a little as you respond. 

“Yep.” It could be your imagination, but for a fraction of a second, Bakugou’s eyes flick to your hands before moving back to your face, softening a little. 

“Please.” Kirishima says, taking a step forward. “I’ll do something for you, anything.” You sigh, looking away. “I’ll introduce you to all our friends!” he offers. “You don’t know anyone, right?” 

“And I like it that way.” You counter and that gets a genuine laugh out of Bakugou. “I’ll tutor you, though,” you offer, “On one condition.” Kirishima nods, and you sit back down. “I will make every decision about this project.”  

“That’s fine!” He says brightly. “Thank you, thank you so much.” Bakugou clears his throat, you’re still holding his phone. 

“Actually,” you say, “This is an ok place to start.” You turn the phone to Kirishima on the table who shakes his head. 

“Read it to me, please, please it sounds so much better.” You massage your temples, watching Bakugou smirk. 

“Fie, fie, unknit that threatening unkind brow, And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.” You say, not sure where to look. 

“Ok, so don’t question your boss.” Kirishima says, “Got it.” 

“Not quite.” You say. “Very sweet of you to immediately strip the clearly gendered terminology from this passage.” Bakugou knocks shoulders with his boyfriend. 

“Try again.” He motions for you to continue. 

“It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, And in no sense is meet or amiable. A woman mov’d is like a fountain troubled- Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.” 

“Oh.” Kirishima says. “This is about, uh, like, when women aren’t sweet they’re ugly?” You nod, smiling. 

“Yeah, that’s as decent interpretation. Think about the words, a woman moved is like a fountain troubled, women who have strong emotion or even rational thought that’s being read as emotion due to a sexist lense, has as much value as a fountain that’s broken, spewing mud. Think about that metaphor.” Kirishima’s brow furrows. 

“I don’t like this. I love it when women aren’t sweet.” Then he smiles at you. “‘Course, if they wanna be, that’s fine by me.” You hand Bakugou his phone back. 

“I’m finished debasing my gender for your entertainment.” You say to the blonde, and scribble something down on a scrap of paper. “I’m free Saturday afternoon, this is my number, text me if you want to be tutored.”  

_______

On Friday night, you’re curled up with a mug of hot chocolate and your favorite show, with a soft blanket, happily alone in your single. You get a text from Kirishima. 

Kirishima: hey! We’re having a movie night. Wanna come over?

You: I’m good, thanks 

Kirishima: come on, what are you doing?

You: watching Jane the Virgin

Kirishima: alone or am I interrupting a netflix and chill session

You: aaaaaaaaa i like being alone it’s fine 

You toss your phone aside, ignoring it’s incessant buzzing, watching Jane pick out a wedding dress, tearing up when her father shows up. You have a moment where you genuinely struggle with the desire to respond, grappling with your own social anxiety before choosing the comfort of being alone. There’s a soft knock at the door. You throw a zip up hoodie on over your tank top. 

“Hey,” There’s a guy standing in the hallway with dark hair. You don’t recognize him. “I’m Shindou, your next door neighbor.” You shrug. 

“Hi, can I help you?” You can smell the alcohol on his breath, he runs his fingers through his hair.. 

“Can I come in?” He asks, smiling brilliantly. You shake your head. 

“No thanks,” you lean against the doorframe. “What’s up?” He takes a step near you. 

“You can um,” he says, smiling sheepishly, “I was hoping I could come in.”  He’s swaying a little. 

“Nope,” you try and close the door but he wedges an elbow into it, catching the door frame in a large hand.

“I would like you to leave.” You say, with as much firmness as you can muster. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart.” He says, smiling, “Come on, don’t be a bitch about this,” 

“Don’t be a bitch about what?” A familiar voice growls from down the hallway.

“Just leave.” You say, pleading, trying again to close the door on him but he shoves his way in, stumbling drunk. You jump out of the way but he knocks into you, and you slam against the chest of drawers next to your door, the air rushing from your lungs. Strong hands pull  him back though, as you catch yourself before he can hit the ground. You see Bakugou slam him against a wall. 

“Walk it the fuck off.” Bakugou snarls, before turning his attention to you. “Text Kirishima back. You’re hurting his feelings.” He says, before registering your face, how shaken you are. “Oh shit, don’t fuckin’ cry.” Your hands shake, hard. 

“W-what are you doing in my building?” You ask. He blinks at you. 

“I live here.” He points to the black garbage bag he put down to grab Shindo. “That guys an asshole. Stay away from him.” You nod and he sighs, looking away. “Fine.” He pushes his way into your room, and before you can say anything he’s wrapping his arms around you. “Shh, or shut up or somethin’, okay?” You bury your face in his neck, it does feel nice, to be held. He lets you go after about a minute. “Come on. Movie night.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Did that sound like a fuckin’ invitation to you?” He snarls. “Because I meant it like a goddamn order.” You nod, sniffling a little. He waits for you while you pick up your phone and slip into some shoes. 

“Gonna uh,” he says, “Gonna put pants on?” You turn beet red and lift the end of your long hoodie to reveal the shorts you were wearing, he looks almost disappointed. “Come on then, we don’t have all damn night.” You grab your room key and phone and follow him down the hallway to the garbage shoot, and then up to his room. He lived on the fourth floor, and his room had slanted ceilings that were covered with posters. There’s a small crowd gathered on an array of beanbag chairs, and the small dorm room was spotless. Kirishima’s face lights up. 

“You came!” He says, getting up and giving you a quick hug. 

“Some fuckin’ asshole tried to barge into her room.” Bakugou growls. “Dick.” Kirishima’s eyes widen. 

“Who?” He says to Bakugou. Bakugou rolls his eyes. 

“Shindo, who the fuck else?” Kirishima’s jaw tightens for a second before turning to the group, snatching a remote and pausing the movie. 

“Hey! This is y/n. She’s really nice so try not to scare her off.” They introduce you to their friends, Denki, Mina, and Sero. “She’s a transfer.” They greet you, someone hands you a drink and you settle in an empty bean bag chair. Kirishima sits next to you, his face a little flushed. 

“Hey,” He says quietly. “Did you read my texts or did Bakugou just spirit you up here to make me happy?” You blink at him. 

“Um I didn’t read them.” you confess. “I just, people make me so nervous.” He nods. 

“I can tell.” He looks away. “I was pretty excited to be partnered with you. I uh, I’ve missed everything we were supposed to be learning in class because I keep staring at you.” 

“You’re drunk.” You say and he shrugs. 

“Catch up.” You hit him lightly on the back of the head, 

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He laughs and slips an arm around you. 

“We have an understanding.” He leans over, “And honestly I think he likes you too.” You make a decision and down your drink quickly, then settle into the crook of his arm. He moves you, so that you’re flush against his side. You look around nervously but Sero and Mina are full on making out and ignoring the movie, Denki’s fallen asleep. You feel his breath on your ear and your neck erupts in goosebumps. “Can I get you another drink?” You nod, face burning. You turn your face and meet his eyes, for just a moment. “Hey, Bakugou, can you pass me that?” Kirishima points to the half empty bottle of vodka. You’d almost forgotten the blonde. Bakugou is lying on his bed, but he gets up, grabbing it and a plastic bottle of fruit juice. He sits down slowly on the other side of the beanbag chair with a grunt, taking your red plastic cup from you and dumping the rest of the cranberry juice in it. Kirishima gets on his side, resting his head in one of his palms. You mimic his movements, snuggling into his hard chest. Bakugou rolls his eyes and pours less than one shot into your cup. You pout.

“What? You don’t need more to drink.” He grumbles. You take the cup from him, and sip it. 

“This is basically just juice!” You complain and you feel Kirishima groan softly as you push up a little on the beanbag chair to get closer to Bakugou, inadvertently pressing your ass against his crotch. He takes one of your hips in his huge hand, reaching under your hoodie, fingers digging into your soft flesh. 

“I said you don’t need any more to drink.” Bakugou snaps. “I’ve got half a goddamn mind to take that from ya,” he eyes the cup, “And just get you both water.” Kirishima’s hand travels up under your hoodie, pushing your tank top up to rest on your waist. You give Bakugou your best, brattiest smile, and tip the cranberry juice drink into your mouth, chugging it and then handing him your empty cup. He smiles evilly and cocks his head to one side. “Brat. You’ll pay for that.” You shrug, feeling Kirishima start to rub circles into your skin, to draw your body closer to his.

“You should be nicer to him.” Kirishima says, as Bakugou climbs onto the beanbag chair, laying down and facing you. He watches your face carefully as Kirishima’s hand moves lower, under the elastic band of your shorts. You can feel his swelling erection rubbing against your ass. “He calls the shots around here, baby.” He parts your folds with two fingers and you feel your face warm as he drags his fingers lazily across your slit. He presses gently, experimentally, on your clit and your mouth drops open, sucking a sharp breath. 

Bakugou’s lips crash down on yours, muffling the sweet hiccuping moan that would have escaped your lips as Kirishima starts to circle your clit with one calloused hand. His kiss is hot, searing, and he swipes your lips with his tongue before slipping it between them, keeping you quiet in the darkness as the others watch the movie intently. He guides you carefully, cupping your face in expert hands, while Kirishima locks your body against his with one arm wrapped under your ribs, and tortures you with the other. 

“She’s so wet.” He whispers. “When’s the last time anyone touched you, baby?” He coos. Of course you don’t answer, you can’t, as he dips a finger into your aching core, and you bite down hard on Bakugou’s lip. You taste blood and the blonde pulls away from you, something wild in his eyes. You get out half a gasp before his mouth is back on yours, this time he reaches for your body, you hear your hoodie unzip. He reaches under your sweatshirt, palming your breasts, grunting softly. You hold onto his arms, digging little half moons in the contours of his bicep. 

“You’re so fuckin’ soft.” He says into your mouth. “Gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” You nod, Anything, anything as long as Kirishima didn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, pressing against that one bundle of nerves in a way that was making your eyes roll and your face hot. You can feel him grinding his hard cock against your ass. Bakugou lifts your tank top over your shirt and pulls your breasts out of your bra. “Nice tits.” He groans, before taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking hungrily. 

“She’s gonna cum.” Kirishima warns, and it’s true you can feel that tight coil in your stomach, feel the muscles in your thighs tense, as you near your release. To your dismay, Bakugou chuckles. 

“Nah, she doesn’t need it yet.” He moves back up into your eyeline. “In case you’re too stupid to understand that, you’re not allowed to cum yet, got it.” You meet his intense gaze and he rolls his eyes and covers your mouth with his free hand. “I wanna see you fuckin’ cry for it.” You flex your feet, squirming against Kirishima as you reach our and hold onto Bakugou’s muscled forearms. You feel his breath, hot on your ear. “C’mon bitch.” He growls. “I said I wanted to see you cry.” Kirishima drags his thrumb roughly across your clit and you nearly lose it, screwing up your face in concentration. 

“Aw,” Kirishima coos. “She wants to be a good girl so bad, Katsuki.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re doing so well, baby.” Bakugou grabs your jaw roughly, holding it so tightly that you’re forced to part your lips, panting like a dog. Your eyes start to water, it hurts, it hurts so badly, you just want to cum, you’ll do anything, you’re desperate for it. Your lower lip trembles as the first tear rolls down your cheek, disappearing into the fabric of the beanbag chair. 

“Harder.” Bakugou orders, and you can see him palming his cock with his free hand through his pants. For a second you think he’s talking to you but when Kirishima picks up the pace you realize you were wrong, he watches you tremble. “You look fucking pathetic.” He snarls. “What would you give me, to cum, right now?” 

“Anything.” You breathe, eyes watering. “Anything you wanted.” He grins again, that same wildness in his eyes before he spits in your open mouth. 

“Swallow.” He commands, still speaking lowly enough so that his friends, apparently incredibly stoned, can’t here. “Then cum for me, bitch.” You release the coil you’d been holding and your whole body spasms as wave after wave of pleasure hits you, Kirishima carefully carries you through your high. You’re vaguely aware, on some level, of how you’re gushing around his fingers, of his little groan,

“Shit, she clenches so hard when she cums.” Kirishima breathes. Bakugou’s mouth is pressed against yours, muffling the desperate moan that comes from deep within you. Your hands shake as you grab fistfuls of his t-shirt and hold on for dear life. When your vision clears you’re on your back between the two men. Kirishima is brushing the hair softly off your forehead, and Bakugou is pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your cheek. “Is your room empty, baby?” Kirishima asks and you nod, unable to speak yet. “Should we go there?” You nod again and try to stand, feeling how sticky your shorts have become, the drying slick on your thighs. 

“Wait!” Kirishima says and your knees give out. Bakugou catches you easily, lifting you in his arms and rolling his eyes. 

“Don’t try and walk after cumming like that, stupid.” He says, shaking his head. They walk down to  your empty dorm room, where when they flick the lights on, your long forgotten mug of hot chocolate is on the window sill, probably ice cold. 

“This is so cute!” Kirishima coos. “You know I’ve had a crush on you all semester.” He smoothes out  your baby blue comforter. “It’s not exactly how I’ve imagined it, but it’s so you.” Bakugou deposits you on the bed. 

“Knew there was a reason you had no fuckin’ clue what was happening in that class.” He looks at you. “When you can talk again he’s gonna need a goddamn tutor, so I hope we didnt fuck anything in there,” he taps your forehead, “up permanently.”  Kirishima looks sheepish and Bakugou continues. “But if you’re not talkin’ I can think of much better uses for your mouth.” You nod, and clear your throat with a high pitched grunt. 

“You uh,” you look at Kirishima. “You like me?” 

“I may or may not have begged the professor to pair us together for this project.” You giggle. 

“Oi, sorry,” Bakugou snaps. “I meant suck my fuckin’ dick.” You flush, embarassed, he sits on your chair, unzipping his pants and putting one of your pillows at his feet. “Crawl.” He says pointing lazily at his feet. You slip all the way out of your hoodie before obliging. 

“She’s really so good,” Kirishima coos, “I knew that attitude was all an act, right, baby, you just wanna make us feel good, right?” You barely hear him, Bakugou’s taken his dick out of his pants and there’s no other word for it, it’s pretty. Long and thick, the head a deep pink and dripping with precum. 

“Yeah.” You say softly, before taking the tip of him in your mouth, giving it a little kitten lick to clean the precum off of it before taking as much of it as you can, drooling sloppily on his lap. He groans. 

“Fuck, yeah princess, just like that,” He catches your eyes, “Love the way your lips look on my fat fuckin’ cock, look up at me, like that.” He looks up, putting one hand on the back of your head, setting a pace for you, forcing you just a little farther with each thrust. “What are you waiting for, shitty hair?” He growls. “Just gonna watch?” Kirishima runs his fingers through his hair and glances at Bakugou’s hands, tangled in your hair, “Awww,” Bakugou makes the sweetest sound his gravel allows, “You were waiting for permission, like a good boy.” Kirishima nods. 

“Y-yes, sir.” He says. 

“Take her shorts off.” Bakugou orders, leaning back in your fold up chair, the canvas groaning.” You lovinging flick  your tongue over the underside of his cock. He pulls you back off of him though and speaks, “Green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop. If you tap me,” He says, tapping his own thigh, in case you were too stupid to understand that, “I will stop. Understand?” You nod. “Say it.” He says gruffly. 

“I understand.” You say, and he reaches down, parting your soft lips with his thumb. You suck it hungrily and he smiles when you scrape your teeth against the pad of his finger. 

“Get back to work.” He orders, and you do, taking as much of him as you can, concentrating on keeping your throat relaxed, swelling with pride at every little groan you elicit from his mouth. Kirishima kneels behind you, letting out a soft whine as he rubs the head of his cock against your slit. 

“She’s so wet,” Kirishima moans, ‘Can, can I please fuck her, please?” Bakugou takes his eyes off yours for a moment, not releasing the back of your head. 

“Have you been a good fuckin’ boy?” He asks huskily. Kirishima nods emphatically. “Hmmm,” Bakugou rumbles, closing his eyes in pleasure as you drool on his cock. “What do you think,” he grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his dick, “Want him to fuck you?” You turn around and look at him, and gasp a little. He’s so big, the biggest you’ve ever seen, wide and long, at least 8 inches, purple tipped and dripping with precum. He’s pumping himself slowly. You turn back to Bakugou. 

“I-Is it gonna hurt, daddy?” You ask, the title slipping from your lips like water. Bakugou’s dick twitches in front of your face. 

“He can go slow, for you,” Bakugou growls, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Make sure she’s prepped dumbass.” He nods at Kirishima, and you move to keep sucking Bakugou’s cock but he catches your face. “I wanna watch you take it.” He says gruffly, savoring the way your eyes widen at the pressure, and then the stretch, and then the pain, as Kirishima gently eases inside of you. He waits to move until he hears your sharp little gasp, your mouth dropping open and saliva dribbling down your chin. Bakugou grins, taking the chance to force himself back in your mouth, focusing on his own orgasm now, grabbing a fistful of your hair and setting his own pace. This time it’s impossible to relax, if you could concentrate on anything it would be the pleasant pain of Kirishima rutting his huge cock against your soft walls, but Bakugou forces your head all the way up his length, so that your nose is pressed to the blonde tuft of hair at his stomach. 

“Fuck,” Kirishima says harshly, “She got even tighter when you did that,” he picks up the pace a little and you see stars. Bakugou starts fucking your throat in earnest now, groaning, fingers tearing through your hair. 

“Take it, bitch,” He growls, when he sees your eyes start to water as  you gag, “Fuck yeah, baby just like that, you like this?” He looks at Kirishima, blushy and glossy eyed as he snaps his hips against your ass. “You like gettin’ fuckin’ spitroasted like some dirty fuckin’ whore, huh?” There’s no way for you to respond, not with your jaw aching, not as his thrusts become erratic and he slams himself all the way down your throat again. You feel him start to explode in your throat, but then he pulls out, coating your face in his cum and leaning back in  your chair. “Good girl,” he breathes while you gag and sputter, “Good fuckin’ girl.” He sighs heavily. “You look so good like this, daddy’s desperate little slut, arentcha?”

“Y-yes daddy.” You say with the first lungful of sweet air you’re able to get. “Oh god,” you choke out as Kirishima starts going even faster, hitting your g-spot with every thrust, hitting every spot, even now, it hurt a little, he was so, so big. Bakugou leans forward and pushes down on your shoulders so that you’re down on your elbows, forcing your back into a harsher arch. With nothing to muffle your sounds they spill from your lips like water, “K-kirishima,” you moan, and he laughs, slapping your ass lightly. 

“So what, he’s daddy and I’m Kirishima?” 

“Sounds right to me.” Bakugou says threateningly, from your chair, reaching out to brush the hair out of your face, surprisingly gently. “Do you want to cum again, bitch?” He asks and you nod vigourously. “Use your words.” He snaps. 

“Yes, daddy, wanna cum please.” You look up at him, eyes wide. 

“Do you deserve to cum?” He asks and you nod without thinking. 

“Please, please let me, I’ll, I’ll do whatever you want I-” The words come out of your mouth so quickly that he laughs at you. 

“So fuckin’ eager to please,” He taunts, “You wanna be a good girl so badly, don’t you, just wanna be daddy’s good slut?” 

“F-fuck.” Kirishima groans, kneading at your ass, grabbing your hips and fucking you butally, your knees give out, “She got so tight when you said that, keep going, please,” he begs, 

“You like when I tell you you’re a slut huh?” Bakugou rasps, grinning at your stupid fucked out expression, “You look so good covered in my cum, bitch, such a good little cocksleeve, just a sweet little cunt on legs.” Kirishima reaches down and pinches your clit between two fingers and  you keen, “You can cum, cocksleeve.” Bakugou orders and Kirishima rakes his nails down your back as you come undone beneath him with a soft cry, a choked sob. 

“I’m close.” Kirishima whines, “Where should I-” 

“On her.” Bakugou says. “I wanna see my pretty little bitch covered in our cum.” You look up at that. “That’s right, baby, you’re my fucking bitch now.” Kirishima pulls out, his hot release spurting all over your back as your whole body trembles. Kirishima collapses on the floor next to  you but Bakugou reaches into his pocket, grabs his phone and snaps a picture. “You look so good all fucked out.” He says. “Don’t move, dumbasses.” He gets up, fixing his pants and then leaves. You hear your door close and turn your head to Kirishima. 

“Hi.” You say very quietly. He smiles at you. 

“You okay?” You nod. “We’ll take good care of you.” He coos, “Aftercare is important. He’s right, by the way, you look so fucking good like this.” He takes you in, swollen lips, and glossy eyes, watery black lines on your cheeks from the last remnants of your eye makeup. He reaches over, dipping two fingers into the cum on your back and then pushing them between your lips. You lick them clean and he beams at you. “Such a good girl!” You warm with pride at the praise. You hear the door open and Bakugou comes back. He squats beside you. 

“C’mere.” He grunts, carefully, gently wiping your face with a warm washcloth, and when your face is clean he kisses your forehead and hands the towel to Kirishima, who cleans off your back. He cups your face in both of his hands. 

“Good girl.” Bakugou says gruffly. “Gonna lie down with us, let us take care of ya a little?” You nod and Bakugou climbs into your twin bed, flattening himself against the wall. Kirishima lifts you, laughing at your humiliating attempt at walking. 

“You might have a limp tomorrow.” He says brightly. “But maybe not! Not everyone does.” Bakugou takes your body, angling it against his, and Kirishima lies down, facing the two of you, giving Bakugou a sweet tender kiss before throwing his phone at the lightswitch, effectively engulfing the room in darkness. 

“That better not have broken your shit, dumbass.” Bakugou grumbles, as Kirishima slips a leg in between yours. “You got a case for your shit yet?” Kirishima freezes. 

“Oh fuck,” he yawns, “Oops. Set an alarm for me?” Bakugou nods. “You okay?” Kirishima asks you again, scrutinizing  your face. 

“Yeah,” you sigh happily. “Tired.” 

“Go to sleep.” Bakugou says. “Both of you. It’s late as fuck.” You close your eyes, focusing on the soft breathing of the two men holding you, feeling safe, and warm and comfortable. 

It’s much, much later when you stir. You’re sleeping on top of Bakugou’s chest and Kirishima is spooning you, with his face buried in his boyfriend’s neck. There’s a knocking at your door. 

“Hey,” you hear, “Hey, you up, I know you’re in there.” You move a little and Bakugou is awake immediately, anchoring you to his chest with one arm. 

“Someone’s here?” You whisper. “I don’t know.” Kirishima gets up  and rubs his eyes. 

“I’ll check it out.” He opens the door in his boxers. “Oh, hey Shindo?” 

“I-is, y/n there?” Kirishima grins. 

“Yeah, but it’s 3AM. She’s real tired, if you get my drift.”

“Fuck you.” Shindou spits, slamming the door in Kirishima’s face, he bursts out laughing. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou growls, shifting you to the far side of his chest and reaching an arm out for Kirishma. “Do you know what goddamn time it is?” He pulls the slightly larger boy into him. “She’s gotta tutor you tomorrow.” Kirishima sighs with happiness. 

“Then we gotta take her on a real date.” You open your eyes. “Wanna go to olive garden?” 

“No.” You and Bakugou say at the same time. “Go the fuck to sleep!” 

if u enjoyed this fic please consider reblogging/leaving me a comment! It helps me know what people like so i know what to write more of <3

Miss Mina’s graduation dress 🎓

“What’s my favorite bread?” You ask your boyfriend during early morning cuddles. It’s warm inside the blanket and Bakugou’s hand is idly petting your hair.

“Croissants. Specifically almond and only from that bakery that’s 20 minutes from the house.” Bakugou answers without a beat of hesitation. “That and brioche. French bread only when you wanna have that gross balsamic dip.”

“How do I like my tea?” You fire off another question, waiting for him to see if he’ll get it right.

“Depends on the tea. Green tea, you’ll only do lemon and honey. Early grey and black tea, a little bit of vanilla creamer and some sugar. Oolong tea, you’ll have it plain.” Once again Bakugou answers your question without fumbling over any of his words.

It makes your heart fond over him but you still want to ask more questions. “What’s my favorite kind of chair?”

“Rocking. Baby, what’s with all the questions?” Bakugou asks gruffly but with no particular annoyance in his voice either. His hand still pets over your head and his eyes look up to the ceiling. Sunshine pours through the window and he sees particles of dust float in the air. “Feels like you’re testing me or somethin’ about if I know you.”

You shrug your shoulders and answer him, “Just wanna see if you pay attention to the things I like. Y’know the last guy I was with, I was with him for more than six months and he didn’t remember when my birthday was even though his and mine were literally a week apart. And then one time he got me flowers and he got me the ones that literally break me out in a rash even though I said a million times what to never get me.”

Bakugou’s hand stops petting your head and he starts to sit up in bed. You follow his movement, sitting back a little and finding the expression on your boyfriend’s face amusing. “What exactly did this loser know about you then? Since he was forgetting all the important things.”

“He knew my go to order for McDonald’s.” You answer as you pull your knees up to your chest and pull the blanket more towards you to cover yourself. “Medium fries and ten pieces nuggets.”

“That’s wrong because it’s actually large fries and twenty piece nuggets.” Bakugou corrects you and you laugh a little knowing that he got you. “And everyone likes nuggets and fries from McDonald’s, that’s hardly anything intimate.”

It makes you laugh that he calls you out but for Bakugou, he frowns a little that you had wasted your time with a guy that didn’t bother to know you at all. He leans back against the headboard and asks you, “What about me? How do I take my coffee?”

“At the agency, you’ll just have plain black coffee. When you go to coffee shops though, you’ll have a dirty chai with soy milk.” You answer him, remembering the first time you and him had coffee together.

He nods his head and asks, “What’s my least favorite vegetable?”

“Brussels sprouts. They’re basically mini cabbages and you hate cabbage too.” The answer comes out easily and as fast as he answered you too.

“Books? What do I like?” He asks, thinking this one might trip you up.

“Sci-fi books, but I know that you’re a sucker for classics literature. I see the Jane Austen books on your shelf.” You tell him.

Bakugou nods his head, equally impressed with your knowledge about him. Then he shoots back, “What’s my McDonald’s order?”

“Spicy deluxe McCrispy with two orders of medium fries. Bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit with three hash browns when you’re hungover.”

He smiles at you, reaching his hand out to ruffle your hair and chuckling when you smack his hand away. “I could take all this info and leak it, you know? Pro Hero Dynamight’s McDonald’s order: this is what he eats!” You laugh at your stupid joke, “Imagine the brand deal that comes your way.”

“First of all, that’s only for you to know.” Bakugou tuts and starts to leave the bed, reaching down onto the floor for his underwear he flung off his body when the two of you got frisky last night, “Second, the last guy you were with was a dipshit for not learning anything about you.”

“Yeah well, I was an even bigger idiot for staying with him for more than half a year.” You sigh as you also move to leave the bed as well. Bakugou’s shirt is found right on your side of the bed so you end up wearing it instead of finding your own sleeping top you intended to sleep in the night before.

Bakugou snorts and you round your way up over to him, giving him a big smile and bumping your hip against him, “Good thing I traded up.”

He leans down to kiss you, smiling into the kiss and not even bothering to hide how you stroked his ego just a little bit.

“My favorite breakfast?” You ask him,

“Aside from my dick?” Bakugou pretends to be hurt when you punch his arm before giving the correct answer, “Overnight oats and waffles.”

the sexual tension between me & the alternate reality I daydream about

Hiii just thinking about Bakugo x reader where reader’s in danger from a villain attack and Bakugo saves her heheh. And then the media’s eating it up like 😭😭

this is such a cute idea!! ✨

Accidental Damage

『♡』  pro-hero support fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | secret bf/gf ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: you've been swamped with work as a pro-hero support engineer, pushing 80 hour weeks over the busy season, and finally have a day off! bakugo, however, isn't so lucky and ends up getting called in for an emergency patrol during your movie date. instead of sitting at home, you decide to treat yourself and head out into the city. turns out, you probably should have stayed home...considering the fashion district you frequently visit was the villain-of-the-week's choice of attack. tags & warnings: mild violence, anxiety, cursing | lovers (bf/gf), fluff, emotional comfort, physical hurt, protective bakugo, reader doesn't have a quirk, reader's a badass, accidental pda, oops the secret's out now, bakugo treats reader like a princess a/n: wanted to change up the dynamic a little and make reader & bakugo secretly date from opposing sides of the hero world! i'd love to see more of the support class tbh ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,890 ꒱

It’s your day off! After working endless hours for the past month, you’re finally free of the frenzy of Support Request busy season. Spring is often the time that most heroes submit their upgrade and repair requests to their agency’s support team, resulting in a non-stop effort to get through everything in a timely manner. The agency doesn’t want to be responsible for a hero not being able to perform their patrol duties from malfunctioning hero attire.

The original plan of the day was to spend it in your apartment, watching movies with your bombastic hero of a boyfriend - Dynamight. Unfortunately, just like 9 out of 10 other times, he was called out on an emergency shift to cover for someone else.

Being the girlfriend of the number 6 hero wasn’t easy, especially because no one knew you two were even together.

The two of you attended UA High together in separate classes - Class A and Class H. You knew of one another, but never had a chance to talk outside of the occasional ‘hey.’ After graduating from UA, the two of you happen to be hired to the same agency in Tokyo as you were assigned to his support team. A few late night dinners, long phone calls, and plenty of flirty banter later, you started quietly dating the explosive hero. It’s been about two years and you’re happy as can be - secret or not. It wasn’t for any purpose other than to keep the media out of Bakugo’s personal life and focused on his hero career as it was common for the public to become judgmental and fans to get…protective, to say the least. The last thing you wanted to do was to risk his ranking or public image for the sake of labeling him as "taken."

───

"Oh god fuckin' dammit," Bakugo cursed as his phone rang on loop, vibrating to the edge of the coffee table. Removing his arm from your waist, he frustratingly snatched it from the table before the final ring. You caught a glimpse of the caller ID before he answered and left the couch.

AGENCY EMERGENCY LINE

Aww...we just started the movie, you thought, disappointed in the timing.

It was unavoidable, though, considering he was in the top 10 of the pro hero circuit in a record amount of time after graduating from UA. He was damn good at his job and worked his ass off to get where he is today. You're so proud of him and all he's accomplished, but that doesn't mean that you hate how often they pull him back into work on his days off. He hates it just as much as you do.

You overhear a bit of the conversation as he moved to the hallway to take the call.

"Dynamight, we need to you to assist..."

"Spare me the damn formalities and just tell me where the hell you're sending me."

"It's downtown, sector 24, you'll be going along side..."

That's all you heard before he was out of earshot.

You never held it against Bakugo whenever this would happen, it wasn't his fault at all, he had a job to do and he was needed - that's all it was.

He returned from the hallway, a scowl on his face as he plopped onto the cushion next to you. You already know what he's about to say.

"I'm sorry sweets, I gotta go back to work." He leans over and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. "What a fuckin' week. Been lookin' forward to finally sitting at home."

You frown as you squeeze his hand reassuringly. "It's okay, the world needs the great Dynamight."

Bakugo groans in defeat, leaving the couch to run for the door. He's about to put his shoes on and grab his keys before he pauses, dropping his boots in the entryway and skipping back over to the couch. He bends over the arm and sits awkwardly on it as he grabs your chin, turning your face to his. He places a kiss to your lips and it leaves you breathless, like always.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he purrs, finger brushing along the top of your cheek.

“Love you too, Kats,” you respond quietly as his hand leaves your cheek. “Be safe, text me when you head home.”

He grabs his keys and wallet from the entryway, shuffling through it and placing his credit card back onto the table.

"Leavin' my card for you to take, baby. Go buy somethin' pretty for yourself."

And just like that, he's out the door and on his way back to the agency for the fifth time this week.

───

Bakugo had a habit of not letting you pay for almost anything, no matter how much you protested against him - it was one of his ways of showing his love for you. He would often scold you for having somewhat of an overspending problem, but your motto was always “money comes back!” He’d roll his eyes and hand you his credit card, preferring to spoil you instead of letting you drag yourself into debt. You learned to stop refusing his offer to pay for things a few months into your relationship, knowing full well he'd never back down after he'd steal your card out of your hands or swap it for his when you weren't looking.

Might as well take him up on his offer and go shopping!

Strolling down one of the main streets of the fashion district, you pop into one of your favorite clothing boutiques to browse around. It's busy for a Sunday afternoon, but the crowds don't bother you. Whenever you came here, Bakugo would often wait a street or two over to avoid said crowds. He hated them, but never wanted to leave you alone, so he'd tag along in ways that made him comfortable.

You're flipping through a sales rack outside of the store when a sudden rumbling in the street catches your attention. An earthquake, maybe? A couple of people around you notice as well and stop what they’re doing to focus on the vibrations. A moment later, the street becomes riddled with panic as the entire crowd is rushing in the opposite direction.

Of course a villain would show up to ruin your shopping trip.

You always make sure for these type of scenarios that you keep a spare gadget in your bag for protection. Bakugo wasn’t satisfied with you carrying just a normal self defense weapon, so he helped (more so forced you to) craft a device that would allow you to “save your own quirk-less ass” if push came to shove. He knew how talented you were and dedicated to your craft, always thinking up new gadgets and drawing plans off the clock. He wanted to encourage you to create your own genius contraption rather than solely making things for the heroes around you.

Digging through your bag, you grab onto the make-shift object that resembles a pair of bracelets. You slip them on and push the buttons on the underside of each bangle - activating the mechanism inside. They cover your hands in a binding of metals that resemble armored gloves and crawl up your forearms and end at your elbows.

Time to see what these babies can do!

You laugh to yourself at the thought of calling your creations "babies." It fondly reminds you of Hatsume and how she would be ecstatic over her piles of support items she's constructed, constantly flailing around the support classroom with glee.

Your attention is roughly brought back to the villain landing a few stores away from you as a giant gust of wind forces remaining civilians out of his way. He's sporting a jetpack-like bag on his back, motorized arms poking out of it like a spider. He spots you out of the corner of his eye, immediately curious about your support gear.

"Oh? What do we have here?" He questions, gesturing in your direction. "Those look too high and mighty for a girl your size. Are you even a hero?"

You know he's trying to antagonize you and get under your skin, and unfortunately, it works. But if you can keep him distracted until a hero shows, he'll do less damage to the area and you can prevent unnecessary causalities.

"Who needs a hero when a 'normie' like me can kick your ass with my bare fists?" you instigate, praying that'll convince him to shift his full attention to you. It does, aggressively launching himself in your direction with his...spider legs?...and lands in front of you, bending over to level his eyes with yours.

"Those are some brave words for a bug like you."

You take a deep breath, steadying your stance before landing a swift right hook to his jaw, sending him soaring into the street. Your gloves make a soft hiss as they release the energy stored inside them.

Yes! God, that felt good. Is this how Kat feels?!

The villain clamors to his feet, seething with rage as he readjusts his set of translucent goggles.

"You little bitch!"

You brace yourself for impact by crossing the gloves in front of you, summoning a temporary energetic barrier to guard against his attack. The force sends you stumbling backwards, falling straight on your ass as you roll out of the way of a robot leg slamming down next to you.

Just keep moving, don't stop moving, remember what Kat taught you!

You're extremely thankful in this moment that Bakugo practically forced you to train with him. He was adamant on you having basic fighting ability - hand to hand combat, some karate, self-defense moves, and more importantly, staying in shape to outrun any villains. He didn't think you were incapable of handling yourself, he just wanted you to be able to kick some ass while doing it.

As you're zigzagging the villain, dozens of cameramen and reporters are flooding the scene, desperate to get the 'first look' on the details of the commotion. Your tunnel vision on the current threat in front of you keeps you busy, not noticing the massive media crowd forming around you on both ends of the street.

The villain jumps up, catching you off guard as he lands behind you, smacking you in the back with a robot arm with a loud thwap that sends you careening into a clothing rack on the street. A collective gasp is heard from the peanut gallery, clamoring over your safety for 'views.'

You may or may not have hit your head - unsure if you're dizzy from the fall or a potential concussion. Shaking yourself out of the haze, you scramble away from a follow-up attack from one of his mechanized tendrils.

"Aw, are you backing away from the fight you started?!" He taunts, arrogantly laughing at your defensive maneuvers.

In the distance, you begin to hear soft booms echo through the air, steadily growing in volume. You knew exactly who was rushing to the scene.

Oh buddy, now you're fucked.

You can't help the devilish smirk that crosses your lips, anticipating your hero boyfriend to show up and blow this guy into the pavement. In the interim, you have one final trick up your sleeve - literally - to give this guy a pre-beatdown of your own.

"Nah, just wearing you down so I can knock your ass out!" you boast, channeling your best "hero" speech.

With a few taps of your fingers on the metal gripping your forearms, the gloves begin to channel energy into the palms of your hands, lighting up with blue sparks as it charged. You needed an extra 15 seconds before they were ready to burst. The villain notices, swiping at your feet to knock you down before you can properly dodge. The breath is knocked from your lungs and leaves you gasping for air.

Boom, boom...boom!

You can tell Bakugo's almost here as the explosions get louder with each burst.

Just 5 more seconds...

"Yo, spider-freak!" Bakugo roars from atop a nearby building. "We can do this th' easy way or hard way. Your choice, jackass!"

He hasn't noticed you yet as your gloves begin to beep, signaling the charge is ready for use.

Perfect timing.

Getting to your feet is more of a struggle than anticipated as you're still recovering from the previous strike. Wobbling on jelly legs, you plant your feet solidly on the pavement to the best of your ability, bring your hands up in front of you and aim your palms at the villain. Your loud cackle catches Bakugo’s attention, sending a panic coursing through his veins as he finally sees you - shaking like a leaf with a grin on your face.

What the fuck is she doing?!

His train of thought is interrupted by your gloves firing off a massive burst of energy, hitting the villain square in the chest and slamming him into the ground, shattering his robotic accessories in the process.

Holy shit, those fuckers work after all.

Bakugo can't help but snort at your ballsy attempt to hold down the villain, feeling simultaneously proud and scared shitless that you'd put yourself in the middle of harms way for strangers - just like himself. He's blasting off the building and down to the street to wrap up what's left of this D-lister villain.

The blowback from the gloves, however, is way harder to handle than anticipated. As the gloves emit vapor and a sharp hissing noise, you're sent teetering backward, tumbling across the street until your body skids to a halt.

───

Everything fucking hurts.

But holy shit, that was exhilarating.

There's sirens in the distance while you lay there, signaling that they're more than likely surrounding the asshole and taking him into custody. You groan and grumble while sitting up, propping yourself up on your elbows as a loud thud lands at your feet.

You know the sound of those boots anywhere.

"Dynamight?" you feign, pretending to be distressed after the fight. "Oh, you showed up at the perfect -,"

He cuts you off with a sharp quip, his voice gruff with a playful tone. "Shut the fuck up."

Bakugo crouches down as he's grabbing your wrists and hoisting you up onto your feet. He holds onto you for a moment while you get your bearings, wobbling like a baby deer. Once you're steady, he pulls you flush to his body and cups your chin in his gloved hand. Before you can protest his movements, he swoops down and your lips meet.

He's kissing you.

In the middle of the street.

In front of every single press company in the city.

In public.

You squeak against his lips, putting your hands on his chest to create space between the two of you as you pull away. He's perplexed at your hesitation until the realization whips him back to reality.

"Fuck!" Bakugo snarled, a pink blush creeping up the back of his neck. He was too caught up in the moment with adoration over your bravery that he...forgot he was on duty.

Cameras and reporters are rushing over, shouting a million different questions at the two of you.

"Miss! Are you a hero, too? What's your name?"

"Are you Dynamight's side-kick?"

"Dynamight, you saved the city once again! Who is this young lady in relation to you?"

"Are you worried this will affect your reputation with your supporters?"

"God, the agency is gonna fuckin' hate me for this," he growls.

Oh no. You just inadvertently tainted his reputation. He might get demoted...if only you had just stayed home today.

Bakugo turns toward the thousands of camera flashes and video cameras, arm slung around your shoulder.

"This is y/n, she's a support engineer from my agency and saved your asses today," he says confidently. "And she's my girlfriend, so don't get any wrong ideas about it."

What?!

The mob of media personnel begin speaking all at once to Bakugo again, shouting question after question.

"How long have you two been together?"

"Is she in training to be a hero, too?"

"That device was impressive! How did you manufacture it?"

"Do you have a quirk?"

You're standing there, dumbfounded that Bakugo just openly admitted to your relationship on live TV and to news reporters. You can't help but flush red over the barrage of questions, not used to this kind of interrogation in your line of support work.

He sighs, shaking his head as he removes his arm from your shoulder and moving to hold your hand.

"Quit it the questions, we're leaving."

With that, he parts through the crowd with you following behind, crossing over to the other street before letting go of your hand.

"Katsuki...are you sure you’re okay with this?" you ask timidly, aware that you can't take back what he said.

"Idiot, I don't lie about things like that. Now I get to show off my perfect princess."

You say nothing in return, just quietly squeal and do a little happy dance.

Perfect princess.

"Let's get your stubborn ass to the medical team, you look like shit," he teases, poking you in the forehead. "And we should probably tone back the output on those gauntlets, that coulda killed somebody - or you."

You hum in acknowledgement and follow him down the street, heading back to the agency together.

think of the gloves as, like, ironman suit type gear? how you can just pop them on and use them as enhanced fighting gear. hehe, a cute little panic fluff is always fun. thanks much again to @queenpiranhadon for the prompt!! 💜

Divider by : @/saradika

“Domain expansion.” And it’s just me opening up my legs

You like to call your boyfriend cute when you talk about him to your coworkers, saying things like: “He’s so cute, he cooks for me all the time!” or “My boyfriend just bought me this flower bouquet for our date! Isn’t he the cutest?” and it planted an image into your coworkers mind of your boyfriend being this soft looking guy. So they definitely didn’t expect a tall muscular guy with a face that literally embodies “if looks could kill” to walk into the building claiming to be your boyfriend and that you had asked him to pick you up. But it did help a little when you run into his arms telling how much you miss him and for a moment, they catch his hard face turned soft. Ok maybe he was a little cute.

-Sakusa, Ushijima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Tsukishima.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE┊despite what’s written on the bathroom stalls, twenty-three year old gojo satoru, is a virgin. this was a well kept secret until he made a drunken social media post spilling his dirty laundry. worried about his standing in the university hierarchy — satoru turns to you, his oldest friend, to save his social life. how? by taking his virginity, of course.

content: a college au, angst if you squint, smut and fluff. gojo being an oblivious dork, afab!reader x gojo satoru, piv sex, f*ngering (reader receiving), c*nnilingus, a brief conversation regarding consent, no power dynamics, reader is called (hot, baby, sweatheart, is shorter than gojo.) all lowercase. word count: 10k

satoru guesses it is nearly five in the morning when his phone chimes three times in quick succession. he immediately regrets choosing a quacking duck as his notification tone, waking with a start and banging the top of his head against his coffee table.

the vibrations occur no more than a few seconds apart, the screen lighting up each time and nearly blinding him from its place on the floor; propped against one of the legs of the violent table. his body is awkwardly contorted, head turned in its direction.

satoru lifts up his head to glance at it — squinting in pain as he tries to focus on the kanji. It darkens before he can see who woke him and he turns up his nose in annoyance when he notices the cracked upper corner of his very expensive cell phone. he runs the heel of his hand roughly against his eyes, wiping the crusted edges in an attempt to clear his blurry vision.

despite not being fully coherent, satoru can tell that he’s hungover. his memory is hazy at best but some of it comes back in short flashes; being at the bar with nanami, drunken coin fumbling to buy another round of shots, someone tossing him on his living room floor and ruining his favorite shirt.

his white leather ottoman is bowing in the middle, obviously broken. the minibar is ransacked and the floor is covered with remnants of the night before: empty beer cans, a plate of chicken bones, a cowboy hat, half-eaten skinless mangos, his favorite jacket, a plastic battle ax, etc.

snoring on the couch and wearing only jeans and one sock, the words MUNCH written in sharpie across his forehead, is geto suguru. a cat that satoru assumes is his now, struts across the top of the couch until it reaches a plastic cup blocking its path.

recognizing the obstruction, the feline slaps it off the side and the cup hits suguru in the face. hard. stale saké splashes all over him and he jerks awake before falling directly onto the pile of beer cans on the floor. the black sharpie starts to drip down his forehead in jagged lines that look almost like stitches.

“oh shit,” he groans, strands of black hair falling out of his top knot and into his eyes. “what the hell happened last night?”

satoru goes to shake his head, but the heaviness of it makes him nauseous. he glances over at his friend and then down at himself. “pajama party?” he lays in the same position he originally slept in and the same white button up he remembers wearing (albeit with a few buttons missing).

the two men groan in unison, satoru lifting himself up and using his now broken leather furniture for leverage. vertigo hits him hard and black dots are on the edge of his vision, but he’s able to stumble his way into his kitchen while keeping hold of the contents of his stomach. on his marble countertop are painkillers, candies that he’s sure are from his pantry, and a note. it reads: try not to black out again. you almost killed me for attempting to put you in bed.

satoru raises a brow, recognizing his friend’s font-like handwriting well. how sweet of nanami to look out for them in this way! he makes a mental note to tease him about it later.

satoru pops a candy in his mouth, the hard sugary treat clacking against his teeth. he scrolls down on a search engine for hangover remedies and just as he learns that sugar is apparently not what he should be having (oops?) a new notification appears, grouping with the three from earlier:

INU_NOT_YASHA liked your post.

the notification itself wouldn’t be so strange if it weren’t inumaki that liked his post. he rarely ever saw the underclassman on the app (and if he did it was watching slime making videos.) satoru can hear the rustling of beer cans as suguru must be removing himself from the floor now, too. another notification comes up and then another:

JLAWFAN39 liked your post

JLAWFAN39 commented on your post: woah gojo-senpai you’re way braver than me. why were your nipples out btw? ://

satoru raises an eyebrow. he hadn’t posted a shirtless picture in… like three days. (a new record) he goes to respond to the comment and defend his honor, but the next one makes him pause.

NANAMI.KENTOBOX commented on your post: he insisted that they needed to “air out.”

nanami often preached about how much he hated social media, how the instagram account he had was purely for convenience. what would have caused him to comment on one of satoru’s posts? he never had before.

satoru taps on the notification then, wanting to know what the fuss was all about, especially since he was the topic of conversation. what he finds makes him almost drop his phone in the sink.

for starters, he had posted six images at once (which did not fit the minimalist aesthetic he’d curated over the past two years.) one photo is of him, suguru, and nanami in the bar. the more stoic man is begrudgingly standing with his arms crossed. from there, each picture gets progressively more raunchy. until the very last one, a recorded video, starts to play.

it’s definitely him, pulling at his own button up in an attempt to flash the camera. nanami is heard sighing in the background and geto is making weird mouth sounds at what satoru assumes is the mystery cat. “could you at least give me a warning before you strip?” the blonde man chastises. satoru can hear the sound of him rummaging through his kitchen cabinets.

video satoru lets out a laugh, throwing himself back on the living room floor with the phone raised over him. there’s a thick thud where his head connects to the ground, one that makes both suguru and nanami wince. “ouch!” he whines, pouting at the camera and using his free hand to rub the sore spot on his head. his cheeks are red and his eyes are almost closed, obviously intoxicated.

“i’m soooo lonely, guys. who wants to come keep me company?” satoru instantly cringes at himself. this was definitely embarrassing (and explained the 200 followers he’d dropped in the span of only a few hours) but not enough for him to be concerned, right?

video satoru gets a faraway look in his eyes, the kind that says he’s about to either burst into song or is very deep in his feelings. “don’t any of you get jealous, okay? i’m just kidding! i wouldn't please you, anyway. i don’t have the experience.” satoru sees his past self start to tear up and suddenly, he remembers the feeling of laying on his expensive rug and feeling the cool air riddle his chest with goosebumps. he also remembers what he says next for all 4,000 3800 of his followers to see:

“being a virgin fucking blows.”

and there it is on the internet forever. his biggest secret. something that only one other person knew about until now,  broadcasted on his most used social media platform. shit. shit! 

suguru has managed to lift himself off the floor somehow, making his way over to the kitchen while holding the street cat in both hands. his sock is practically hanging off his foot now, the black ink on his forehead streaky as if someone ferociously tried wiping it off. “don’t look so distraught, satoru. just make another post saying you were drunk.”

satoru gives this some thought but one look at his dms and he knows he won’t be able to salvage this social nose dive. people were blowing him up asking if the post had any truth to it, if he needed a warm body to fill his bed at night. it was all too much, panic starting to set in.

noticing his friend’s genuine distress, suguru raises a brow. slowly, a smirk starts to appear on his face. “wait… is it actually tru-”

“of course not!” satoru interjects, shutting off his phone and flippantly waving a hand in his friend’s direction. he flinches at the volume. “i lost my virginity years ago, you know that. besides,” he grabs the street cat from suguru’s hands and lifts it so that their cheeks are pressed together. “who needs sex when you have this adorable little thing?” the adorable thing in question immediately tries to squirm out of his grasp.

the smirk doesn’t leave suguru’s face and in response he shrugs his shoulders. “alright then, who popped your cherry? you never told me that many details. is it someone we know?”

satoru feels his face redden. “uh, well-”

this is where things get complicated. if he made up a name then suguru would surely grill him on every detail of the encounter, finding holes in his lie. he had to think of someone and fast.

“well?” the dark-haired man presses, lips still curled in amusement.

in satoru’s defense, he was cornered! he couldn’t possibly tell him the truth now, could he? it is a split second decision (the only response he could conjure up) when satoru opens his mouth to say the first name that comes to mind. it is only by pure necessity and recency bias, that it is yours.

judging by the angle of the sunlight filtering in through your cheap blinds, soft yellow that just barely comes over the horizon, it was most definitely too early for you to be awake. you glance over at your alarm clock, the green letters showing that it was without a doubt, too damn early. whoever was pounding at your front door must have wanted a death sentence.

at first, you decide to let their knocking be until they give up, assuming no one was home. one quick glance at the opposite side of your dorm and you see that nobara is nowhere to be found – already up and at her morning class. unfortunately for you, this person was persistent and what was once a pounding of a fist turns into a song of some sort… as if they were entertaining themselves until you decided to stop ignoring them.

you consider your options – one of them being whether or not prison is as horrible as they say – and another debating the logistics of jumping out of a third story window and landing directly on concrete. you roll both options back and forth in your head like a mental tug of war – but right as you are about to decide – the knocking stops.

a sigh escapes you as you roll over onto your side, back facing the window behind you. your eyes close and you nuzzle deeper into the warmth that is your bed. before you can appreciate the sudden silence, the shrill jingle of your cell phone blares to life on your bedside table.

“are you-” you slam your hand down on the device and drag it by its tied charms to your side. you don’t look at the caller id before you swipe to answer and lift the screen to your ear. “fucking kidding me?!”

“i most certainly am not! good morning to you, too by the wa-”

you immediately hang up at the sound of his voice, letting your phone fall onto the ground. you were not letting that string bean ruin your slumber again. the last time you answered this early, he’d been drunk off his ass slurring about something you don’t even remember. not this time! you close your eyes again but the same agitating, grating voice comes out behind a muffled door. it calls out your name in a sing-songy tune, followed by knocks that hit the same melody. “open up,” he sings, “i know you’re in there~!”

you groan loudly into your pillow.

you’ve known gojo satoru long enough to deduce two things about him – he was definitely persistent, and annoyingly patient when he wanted to be. no amount of potential embarrassment could sway him. if you didn’t answer now, he’d knock until your neighbors called the police and you’d have to deal with their nagging for weeks; especially from the two sophomores in 1B, they fucking hated you.

you begrudgingly lift yourself up out of your warm bed and trudge to the door. as soon as you open it a flash of what can only be described as a tall shadow moves past your vision so quickly that you almost get whiplash. “thank god,” a voice you recognize chirps, “it took me forever to even get you to wake up.”

you shut your door and turn around to see none other than gojo satoru, your best friend, dressed in his campus hoodie. the same design of hoodie that you had slept in the night before. he’s as handsome as ever, stark white hair and bright blue eyes covered with thin shades. he smiles at you and you return a frown. it’s only then that you notice the plastic bag in his left hand and the familiar brown label on the bottle that pokes through.

“before you kick my ass, just hear me out. yeah?” he rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie and you try to not let your gaze linger on his forearms. “have a seat. i’m gonna set the table.”

satoru places the bag on the table in question (which is just a desk next to your bed) and grabs you by your shoulders to guide you to sit down in your chair. you comply, your half-asleep state focusing only on the sweet cheese danish he places in front of you along with your favorite bottled coffee drink. he pulls out his own goodies and you raise a brow at the very modest bottle of water.

you see, satoru had a vice. one you had known well after your many years of friendship. every morning, without fail – he’d drink the most sugar-induced, whipped cream, caramel drizzled frappuccino known to man. you’d always tease him and ask how satoru still had all of his teeth and he’d just lick the caramel that dripped on his fingertips and give you an annoyingly handsome smile. for him to drink anything without artificial sugar was concerning, to say the least. he sits on the opposite side of you on your bed and starts to tap his fingertips on the desk. he seemed almost…nervous? you open your coffee, the plastic top cracking under your hand.

“so,” you lift the bottle to your lips, “was starbucks closed or something–?”

“i want you to take my virginity.”

you choke on your coffee mid-sip, sputtering as you try to repress a coughing fit. it takes you a moment for you to catch your bearings, grabbing a packed napkin from the bag and pressing it against your now stained hoodie. “shit–! ‘toru, what?”

satoru lays down with his legs spread out in front of him and his elbows keeping him up; the sheets moving beneath him. you can tell by the gleam in his eyes that he’s dead serious. frighteningly so. “i want you to take my virginity! pop my cherry. steal my virtue–“

“stop!” you interrupt him, hand lifting up in front of you as the other places a now soiled napkin on the table. “please, don’t elaborate, satoru.” you press two fingers on the bridge of your nose and take a moment to collect yourself.

“what do you mean you want me to take your virginity?”

he rolls his eyes at this, sitting up so that one arm supports him. his hand reaches out to grab your discarded stack of napkins, playing with the ends of the paper. “you told me once that people should share their first time with someone they care about, that they trust.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i trust you more than anyone.”

you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “there’s more to it than that, toru.” how could he be so calm about this? “you have to actually love the person to some degree–!”

“who says i don’t love you?”

that makes you pause, lifting your head to make eye contact with the man in front of you. he said it in a way that suggests that it was ridiculous for you to believe otherwise.

exasperated, you sigh through your nose. “satoru, you know what i mean. it’s a different kind of love. you need someone who wants to… i don’t know! build a life with you or something.”

he laughs at this. “right because when you lost your virginity to maki, it was because you were madly in love?”

“that’s not the point.” he raises a white eyebrow.

in a way he’s not entirely wrong, you and maki were dating at the time but you never saw a future with her. when you broke up it was amicable, two people realizing that they just weren’t all that compatible. still, your point stands. you didn’t regret the way you lost your virginity or who you’d lost it to but would the same be said for gojo? could your friendship survive that?

as if sensing that you were thinking entirely too much, a long pale finger flicks your forehead.

“ow!” you instinctively look over at the other side of the room — turning away once you remember that nobara is still out for the day. you can practically feel her eyes burning the side of your head because of the noise.

“pay attention! i’m practically giving you my body on a silver platter and you aren’t even giving me the time of day?” he suddenly hops (or more accurately steps with his long ass legs) to your side of the table and plants himself on nobara’s bed next to you, moving your feet to relax on his lap. “i’m not asking you to give me the most mind blowing experience of my life just… i want to get it over with.”

(somewhere, nobara feels a shiver run down her spine. a great disturbance only caused by gojo satoru.)

you give him the look he hates, the one that says he’s not getting what he wants. “what if this ruins our relationship? i-i have an idea! what if you ask suguru to take your virginity?”

if looks could kill you’d be six feet under. “and get throttled with his bare hands for even asking? besides he’s ugly,” his nose scrunches up in disgust, “you’re hot and like, soft. you exfoliate.”

“gojo satoru–“

“i also might have told him that you took it already.”

that makes you pause. of course he told the second most popular man on campus. “you did fucking what?”

“don’t worry about it! i doubt he believed me!” you give the same look from before. “okay, admittedly i could have framed this conversation better–“

“you think?”

“but… if i were to be with anyone, why wouldn’t it be you?”

you consider this for a moment, covering your face in your hands. maybe if things were simpler, if the two of you were just acquaintances, it would be easier to agree to. but how are you expected to sleep with someone who you’ve known since you were freshmen in high school? you’d helped his mom cook dinner, talked to his dad about the family business even when you had no interest. they were like a second family to you. 

you feel a hand grab your wrist and you look up to see the face of a man you know better than anyone, who you would hate to lose. “don’t look so freaked out! i’m not going to force you or anything so... just think about it?”

you sigh but nod your head, ignoring the pounding of your heart. “alright… yeah. i’ll think about it.” 

you did not think about it. in fact, you did everything in your power to not think about it. that meant burying yourself in your studies and avoiding gojo satoru at all costs, giving the excuse of being busy every time he tried to meet up.

by the time the two of you left your dorm that day, you’d not only found out why exactly he was in a rush to lose his v-card but that the school was now divided on the legitimacy of gojo’s virginity claims. especially since you were allegedly the one to have taken it. geto suguru made quick work of spreading that fact to anyone who would listen.

on one hand, you were happy that satoru had some of the heat off him but that meant that you were getting dms from people you’d never even spoken to before, asking for you to confirm it. eventually you just went private but that made the rumors spread even more. were you two together? friends with benefits? was it just a one night stand?

after a week of this – you started practically barricading yourself in your dorm room, avoiding not only gojo but anyone else that was trying to get the latest news on your relationship. of course, you could only keep this up for so long, message after message hitting your phone. once from itadori on how to use a rice cooker but mostly from satoru asking if he’d made you uncomfortable or crossed a line.

you would say no, that you just needed to focus on your classes, but he didn’t take that answer — posting sad bart simpson edits on his instagram story to further prove his point. you hated making him feel this way (even if he was being overly dramatic) but you weren’t someone that liked being in the spotlight. satoru had always been popular, adored. you tended to just fade into the background and you liked it that way.

when you try to lift your head, you realize that your face is pressed into the crook of your arm. there’s a blanket draped over you that you don’t recognize and it slips off your shoulders when you start to move from your uncomfortable position at your desk. the blinds of your dorm are open wide enough for pale blue light to peer through them and it blinds you momentarily as your vision clears. the light reflects off of something black and metallic on your right hand, pen stains from last night. gross.

you groan and place your face back into the cocoon your arms have created. you have a class fairly early today but by the color of the sky through your window, that time hasn't come yet. maybe you could get just a few more hours in…

“rise and grind, sleepyhead!" your roommate says way too loudly for the early morning. normally you had no issue getting up, but the cram session from the night before presents itself with the pounding headache you have and the taste of a fruity energy drink on your tongue.

“nobara… as much as i appreciate the positivity,” your words are muffled in your arm, “i’m not exactly in the mood for it today.” you let out a sigh, feeling unreasonably hot all of a sudden. “this week–“

“i know exactly what happened this week. i think the entire campus knows at this point! i mean, jesus, all you've done is sleep.” you and nobara weren’t friends exactly, a frenemies type of relationship if you will, but you could see the obvious concern on her normally stern features, brows furrowed and lips pouty.

she was attractive in an… aggressive way. a cute bobbed haircut and a bright, full laugh so contagious you couldn’t help but smile when you heard it. she was the type of girl to have both men and women alike on their knees. 

when you first met nobara she was too focused on flirting with a classmate of yours, and not focused on where she was going. to make a long story short, you both got into an intense screaming match. all of this in the middle of the courtyard, while standing over the box of personal items that you had been carrying to your dorm. it didn’t exactly make things easier for the two of you when you found out that you would spend the entire semester together. satoru had to practically hold you both back so you wouldn’t start throwing blows. she saw you as a clumsy, irritable nuisance and you saw her as an annoying flirt with too much time on her hands.

somehow over the course of time you two had come to a mutual level of understanding and the hostility slowly dissipated from your living space. now, months later, she was one of the few people on campus that you felt comfortable venting to.

you stretch your arms over your head, ignoring the way her eyes peered down at you in what you perceived as pity. “yeah well the entire campus doesn’t know the whole story, do they?” you say with a hint of exasperation in your voice.

she grins. “no, i suppose they don’t.” nobara pulls over her own desk chair as you spin yours around to face her. you tuck your knees up to your chest and she gets comfortable across from you. “tell me everything.”

you proceed to explain the events of the week in vivid detail, making sure to emphasize how mortifying it all truly was. she wasn’t there, so you had to paint a vivid picture. the determined look he had given you, the early morning bed hair he still had. nobara’s nose curls at the sound of satoru’s name and she almost has a heart attack when she realizes he sat on her bed. when you explain exactly what satoru had asked from you, she crosses her arms against her chest and her lips curl up on one side. your voice is soft and your cheeks feel warm. even if your face were stoic as ever right now, your anxious hands were a dead give away to how flustered you were.

“he wants you to take his virginity.” this is a statement, not a question. you nod. “and not only did he lie and tell geto that you already had” you nod again, slower this time. “but you’re considering actually taking up the offer.”

“well – yeah. pretty much.”

nobara shrugs. “honestly, i didn’t think you had it in you but a dirty mind can come from even the most innocent–“

“who says i’m actually going to sleep with him?” you interrupt.

she raises a brow. “you’re not?”

“no! i-i don’t know! maybe?”

nobara’s signature smirk is back and she’s leaning in closer to you, knees knocking against the edge of your chair. “are you positive?” your friend reaches behind you and grabs one of the sticky notes off your desk. in barely legible writing it reads your first name and then the last, replaced with gojo instead of your own. shit.

it was a joke the two of you made after a long night of studying. nobara had made a comment about how you had a crush on your longtime friend and you didn’t exactly deny it. “gojo isn’t that bad of a family name. if gojo ever gives you the opportunity, fuck him. hell, you can even marry him if you’re feeling bold! do that thing that americans do where you take his last name.”

you had laughed it off, even though at the time you had been completely committed to maki. it was supposed to be a joke, a little thing between the two of you. now, many months later, it’s obvious you weren’t the only one who remembered that conversation.

“i knew you had some type of feelings for him!” she whisper-yells, “is that why you’re so scared to go through with it?”

you can’t help the way your lips twitch downwards, breaking your stoic appearance. nobara knew you better than you thought. it was equally flattering and annoying. “fine,” you huff, “you got me. is this the part where you tell me that i’m gonna get my heart broken? that i should have told him how i felt months ago?”

nobara shakes her head. “obviously not. this is the part where i say that as your friend, i want what’s best for you.” she leans in impossibly close now, her hands resting against the arms of your chair. you stare into her eyes and the glossy brown color stares right back at you.

“maybe the only way you’ll get over this little crush is by testing out the merchandise or maybe he just feels the same way!” she pauses and you see her dark eyes narrow with mischief. “besides, you’re practically attached at the hip anyway. he’s come to check on you ten times in the last four days.”

you think of the days this week that you’ve hidden behind the door as nobara rattled off an excuse for you, saying that you’d gone to the library or to visit a professor. the times you’d seen him in a hall and took a detour around campus just to avoid awkward conversation. if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t being entirely fair to him.

“yeah, yeah i get it. i’ll talk to him.” you lift your hands in defeat, ignoring the way she practically shakes from excitement.

“thank god! do me a favor ‘n fuck him dumb so that he forgets how to speak, yeah?”

you only shove her away, her laugh filling the room as you turn around to grab your cell phone from your night stand. you turn it on and see a slew of messages:

[12:00 am] toru: u know things are bad when im up this late

[12:30 am] toru: i know ur awake :((

[12:57 am] toru: or maybe you arent? ur dorm light was on earlier

[1:25 am] toru: that sounds so creepy i was just walking by :((( 🙏🏻!!

[1:30 am] toru: i miss you

you let out a chuckle but it comes out more sad than you mean for it to. you missed your friend just as much as he seems to have missed you.

[7:45 am] you: meet me at our place after class?

you don’t expect a response to come so quickly, the vibration going off before you can even fully place your phone back on the table.

[7:46 am] toru: i’ll be there.

the sharp crunch of torn flesh clear in your ears, the salty juices coating your lips and tingling from spicy red pepper flakes. your plate of chicken is practically empty and you sigh in content as you place down your final bone and wipe your mouth. satoru is sat beside you and for the first time since this whole fiasco you actually see a hint of a smile on his face, watching you enjoy your meal with his own plate nearly empty.

you’re currently sat next to each other in the busy restaurant. everyone who had gotten off of school or work stopped by on their commute home and now it’s so packed that the two of you have no choice but to share a small booth area in the corner. to anyone looking on, you seemed like a normal couple sharing a meal after a long day. it was nice, comforting even, to imagine.

you’re staring down at your plate still, contemplating whether or not you want to order another round. your fingers tap on the table, the surface dented slightly from drunken toasts and sticky with cheap cleaning solution.

you feel a wave of air in front of your face and satoru is looking at you with the same sly grin. he looks so natural like this, warmth radiating from the hand he raised in front of you to get your attention.

“are you sure you don’t want to eat the bones, too? maybe suck on the marrow?”

you take a sip of your drink and roll your eyes at him. “laugh all you want but i’m trying to compensate for a week of surviving off of granola bars and gatorade.”

at the sound of your eating habits, he frowns and you wonder if making that comment was a mistake.

“and why would you do that?”

you shrug a little and play with the bracelet on your wrist, one he gave you only a few birthdays ago. “i wasn’t exactly worried about my eating habits. this semester has been draining me so i’ve been preoccupied and everyone is up my ass about you, if you’ve forgotten.”

“oh, i haven’t forgotten. i guess i just… started drowning it out? maybe we should just try not to care what other people think about our relationship. it’s just college – none of this will even matter in a few years!”

you raise a brow at him.

“that’s rich coming from you,” you say, leaning in closer to the man next to you, “all you’ve cared about for the past few years is how everyone else perceives you! who cares if you’re a virgin? are you supposed to be some type of playboy because you’re pretty?”

he smiles at you and you immediately regret your choice of words. “you think i’m pretty?”

“objectively,“ you interject, “you are objectively pretty.”

“but i’m still pretty–“

“can you be serious for once in your life?”

“not a chance!”

you lean back so that your head is against the booth. “you’re stalling.”

“and you’re letting me.”

you close your eyes (hoping that if you couldn’t see him he’d just disappear) and get even more comfortable in the booth. you two were fairly far away from the rest of the afternoon crowd, the sound of moving plates and chatter filling your mind. you feel at peace sitting in the muffled silence, even though you know that satoru is watching you expectantly. you set up the meeting after all and he’d already said his piece.

you open your eyes and look into satoru’s very blue ones. they’re mesmerizing, a bit frightening if you didn’t know the person behind them.

“so…why’d you ask me? to… take it, i mean. was i just the easiest option?”

for the first time in the years you have known satoru, he looks genuinely taken aback. maybe because you sprung this all on him suddenly. your mood had been a little sour ever since you guys originally met up so this should have been expected.

he opens his mouth to speak but closes it again and you see his internal battle right in front of your eyes.  “you aren’t the easiest option at all.” he murmurs, voice so low you almost missed it.

“what?”

“i didn’t ask you to fuck me because i thought you were easy. i guess i just wanted you.” you can practically see his jaw struggle to move, as if getting the words out were painful. for a man that was usually so confident to feel any type of timidity…

now it’s your turn to be confused. “satoru, what the hell are you talking about?“

“just please, listen. can you do that for me?”

you nod, trying your best to follow directions and let him speak.

with a deep sigh, satoru looks more tired than he did earlier. you miss that warmth already. “i’m not exactly the best when it comes to not fucking up my relationships with people,” he thinks this part over a bit more, “hell if i know what a real relationship is even supposed to be like. what i do know is that it isn’t whatever i’d find with someone else so… i wanted to try it with you. maybe i saw this as an opportunity to eventually get there? i promise i never meant for any of this to happen, but i panicked. then you started avoiding me and i felt awful. i thought that i ruined everything.”

out of all the things he could have said, you weren’t prepared for this.

“i guess i never expected you to not be around. we’re almost always together! and yes, i was being childish and maybe even a little selfish but… i really didn’t mean to hurt you. you have to know that.” he pouts a little as he says this and you try to ignore how soft his lips look.

“are you mad at me?” you ask.

his expression turns sour, eyes dramatically wide. “no! i’m mad at myself. i shouldn’t have put you in this situation. it’s not your responsibility to make me feel better about something i caused. that would be gaslighting… is that the word for it?”

you stifle a laugh but nod. “yeah, that’s the word, toru.”

“look,” he starts, “i’m tired of pretending we’re strangers and walking around campus like a lost puppy. think of this as a sorry and a thank you for dealing with all my bullshit for the past few years.”

you know he’s serious. can see it in the way he looks at you and the way his eyes shimmer with a certain fire. you’re so used to seeing satoru as this goofy man who you managed to tolerate for the sake of your friendship. someone that you occasionally thought of on nights when you were particularly lonely. now all you see is just how appealing he looks with his pouty pink lips and pretty hair tickling his forehead. you wanted to run your hands through it and—

“—pull my head out of my ass or he would.”

you blink. “what?”

“you are really distracted today. when i talked to nanami about everything he said i had to pull my head out of my ass or he would.”

this was not the time for you to be drooling over him, not with so many people around.

satoru places a hand on the bare skin of your arm, squeezing the flesh gently before rubbing his thumb over it in small circles. “anyway, i know that it’s a lot to process at once but i’m really just offering here. do you… want to try being with me?”

you stare at him for a while but realize the heat of his hand is distracting you. your own hand reaches up to move his off of your arm, but he catches it and places it against his cheek firmly. satoru leans into your touch and hesitantly turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand. he doesn’t miss the way your pulse quickens when he starts to kiss down your wrist.

“you make a good offer, but i think there’s something i want to add.” you lean in to him to feel his warmth again, so close now that your lips graze his other cheek. you hear his breath quicken but he recovers with a small laugh.

“really now?” you can hear the smile in his voice, softer now.

you hum in response, your hand drifting down from his cheek to his chin, shifting a blue gaze to yours. “do you wanna get out of here, toru?”

and it's here in this tiny booth, fingertips pressed against his smooth skin, that you decide to take the leap.

because if gojo satoru wanted his first time to be special — to be with you of all people — then fuck, it was going to be.

satoru is panicking. you can see it in the way that he fidgets with the contents of the bag, reading the labels carefully to make sure he grabbed the right items. you’re sat on his bed, criss-crossed in front of him and everything he’d dumped on the duvet. condoms, lube, water bottles, a bag of candy. everything you’d need for what was to happen next. 

he’d already spent fifteen minutes on the phone with you at the store asking what kind of condoms you preferred and if a certain lube was better than the other. the attentive, albeit sometimes annoying personality you’d become accustomed to.

you try to ignore the tremble in his hand and the hard swallow he does before he speaks. “so, uhm. i didn’t get water based like you said but i have it in my bathroom if you change your mind.”

you smile at him. “toru, this is fine. perfect actually.”

“are you sure? i don’t want to hurt you–“

“you won’t. i’m not the virgin here, you are.”

“still–“

“satoru.” you places your hands on his, rubbing soothing circles on his skin. “please, i need you to relax. i’ll tell you if something feels wrong, don’t stress yourself out.”

he nods before letting out a small laugh at himself. “i don’t know why i’m so nervous.”

you place the items back in the bag, leaving the condoms and lube on the bedside table. “let’s try and loosen you up then, yeah?”

you tug on his hand so that he moves forward. satoru follows you as you guide him to rest against the headboard and you sit patiently between his thighs. “okay, so we should… express some boundaries before we start, yeah?”

satoru nods and tilts his head a little to the side, you can’t help but be reminded of the cat you just met that’s currently resting in the living room. apparently, he named her candy bag. he has no idea where she came from.

“first, i want you to know that we can stop whenever you want–“

“trust me i’m not–“ he interjects.

“if you do, though. we’ll use the stoplight system. red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for keep going. understood?”

gojo nods, not realizing that he’s gripping the sheets with his hands. “yeah, i got it. could you... not call me like daddy or anything like that? at least not yet. i’d like it more if you called me nice things or my name.”

“bold of you to assume it’ll be that good.”

“i’m aiming to please.”

“i’m sure you are. but, nice things?” you tease with a small smirk, “like what?”

he shifts under you and you see a rising blush against his cheeks. “you know, like baby or that name you call me– ‘toru. something like that.”

you nod. “alright, i can do that. for me, uh, don’t push my head down at any point. okay? it sort of freaks me out.”

he gives you a shocked look and you realize that the implication of what you said just hit him. “what?” you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, “i’m going to at least try to make you feel good.”

satoru smiles at you and his grip on the sheets loosens. “i’m not complaining, just surprised. i guess.”

you roll your eyes. “just…” you pause. for a moment, you are lost in his long white lashes and the soft arch of his brow. he is so beautiful. you wish you could hate him for it. “…lean back, idiot.”

you move to straddle satoru’s hips. there’s a warmth where he automatically rests his hands on you, fitting against your hips perfectly. they still shake, ever so slightly. “that feels nice,” you murmur. he fails to hide the way he preens underneath you. you take a mental note of it for the future.

you lean in close, your breaths mingling and chests almost touching. satoru lets out a shaky breath and you gently cup his cheeks. “can i kiss you, ‘toru?” he gives you the smallest of smiles but nods, still a little tense.

first you press a kiss to his blushed cheek and then to the corner of his mouth. “relax, sweetheart… touch me.” and he does, his hands gently trailing up your spine and down to the dip of your back. you kiss him then, soft pecks that soon turn deeper as you lips mold together.

he’s a good kisser, almost too good with the way you forget what you’re both doing. his tongue is warm and experienced, curling against your own. your mind shifts to parties when you were younger but you shove the image down as his teeth nibble at your bottom lip, sucking the flesh into his mouth with a groan. without even realizing it, you’ve started to move against his slowly growing bulge, gasping as you feel a familiar throbbing, aching arousal between your thighs.

his tongue licks your lower lip when you pull away, watching as satoru’s breath begins to hitch, his chest jumping.

he moves his hands lower to cup your ass, hovering before he gets to the swell of it. “go ahead,” you say, “i–i want you to touch me.”

never mind the time spent discussing this, anticipating it. your face still feels unbearably hot. your gaze lowers to his mouth, unable to meet the raw, open desire in satoru’s expression. you’re still not quite used to seeing him this way; your best and longest friend.

with a firm squeeze of his hands, satoru presses you closer and grinds your front against his own. it’s in this moment that you hear him moan for the first time. it’s a low and breathy sound. now you want to pull every noise from him. you want to hear the deep ones from his chest that you would fantasize about on nights when you were alone – fucking yourself on the toy you kept under your bed. you pull away from him and satoru looks dazed.

“i wanna put my mouth on you,” you pant, “can i?”

it takes him a moment to realize what you’re asking and then he’s nodding; looking down at the bulge of his pants. his eyes are hooded as you lift yourself up from his legs and grip onto his sweatpants. “just so you know,” he starts as you tug his pants down, “i’m actually pretty big, so just be careful to not hurt yourself–“ he gasps at the feeling of you palming him over his boxers. a shudder moving down his spine when you start to fondle his balls.

“f–fuck okay that for sure feels different when someone else is doing it.” you can’t help but laugh and he rolls his eyes at you. “stop making fun of me, i’m in a very vulnerable state right now!”

“yeah, i’m sure you are.”

your fingertips graze his waistband and start to pull. even though he has already consented, you glance up at him anyway for approval. when he slowly nods, you finally pull his cock free from its place under his boxers and hold it in your grasp.

you would not give him the satisfaction… but, fuck was he pretty. he wasn’t very thick but he was long. soft pale skin until it reached the thick blushed tip. he had a bit of a curve and twitched every time the cold air drafted into your space.

satoru watches as you take him in and feels something stir in his chest. he liked the way you gawked at him, your mouth hovering just barely an inch away and teasingly puffing warm breaths against his already sensitive length.

you examine him more, wanting to see him squirm for a little while longer. and when you finally lean in, it’s to press your tongue to the underside of his clock and drag it up until you reach the leaking tip. satoru let’s out a strangled gasp, trying his hardest not to buck his hips into you. you take him in your mouth and use a hand to hold his hip, immediately dropping yourself lower until he hits the back of your throat and his trimmed pubic hair tickles your nose. “f–fuck!” he moans, a hand gripping your shoulder. “baby, shit– slow down or i’m gonna cum before we’ve even started.”

you slowly pull yourself up, tongue smoothing around his tip as he lets out another pretty sound. you decide then that you want to hear it again and reach out a hand to grip his base. his grip on your shoulder tightens as you move faster, bobbing your head around him as saliva collects in your mouth. “you can take it,” you say with a mouth full of him, pulling yourself up briefly to speak. “just enjoy it, satoru.”

and enjoy it he does, releasing his grip on you so that he can caress your soft hair. he makes sure not to pull or tangle his fingers in it for fear of hurting you, just gently feeling your pretty strands against his palm. 

“fuck, you’re perfect.” he praises, “i knew you’d be perfect.” when you start to rub your thighs together against the bed, it’s hard for him not to notice.

“i’m a fast learner, you know. y–you can teach me what to do. how to— oh shit —make you feel good. do you want that?”

you respond by squeezing him and satoru jumps, his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. he puts his hand on the nape of your neck and rubs the skin as a way of apology. you lift your head and smile at him.

“you taste good,” you murmur, your lips slick with saliva and precum. satoru thinks he might pass away from the sight. you tug on his shirt, and satoru quickly yanks it off with one arm to toss on the floor.

he’s always been thin but it’s only now that you see his toned muscle, the hard contours of his stomach and chest.

following his lead, you reach to tug off your clothes but satoru places his hands over yours. “wait,” he moves them away and grips the hem of your favorite sweatshirt, “i’ve always wanted to take this off you. can i?”

you smile and tilt your head a bit. “always, huh?”

he playfully shoves your shoulder. “shut the hell up. lay back.”

you follow directions, back firmly against the large bed as he pulls your sweatshirt from your head. you aren’t wearing anything underneath and he stares at your breasts in what could only be described as awe. you lift your arms to cover yourself, but satoru is faster. his hands move yours to your sides and he situates himself between your legs. “stay still.” he demands, and you do as you’re told.

he’s deliberate in the way he removes the rest of your clothes, making sure to rub his hands together first so that they don’t feel icy against your skin, pressing kisses against your thighs as he situates himself between your legs. you have half a mind to clamp them shut as he gets unbearably close to where you want him most. “so wet,” he murmurs, glancing up at you in surprise. “i didn’t even touch you.”

you feel heat rising up your neck and face, hoping the darkness concealed the embarrassment on your face. “didn’t have to.”

trying his best (and failing) to hide how pleased he was in himself, satoru reaches over to the bedside table and squirts some of lube on his fingers. he looks up at you for guidance.

“rub them together, warm it up a little,” he nods and you see the slickness seeping in between his long (and recently clipped) fingers.

you show him with your own how to touch you. “use your pointer finger first and then slowly ease into me, okay? take your time but don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re lost.”

satoru’s listens intently, for once not joking as his pointer finger enters your already slick hole with ease. you make sure to relax further and nod as he starts to gently thrust it into you. “good job, baby, you’re doing so well.”

his fingers are so long that you start to feel a bit of sweat on your brow, you want him to touch the most sensitive part of you, to have you shaking and crying on his cock, but you knew that this wasn’t the time yet. patience was key.

he makes sure to ask you if you’re okay as he adds more fingers, your gentle encouragement turning into pleas. when he leans in to gently stimulate your clit with his tongue, you let out a whimper. “am i doing a good job?” he asks, words muffled as his mouth suckles and licks at your sensitive clit.

you whine, the pace of his fingers quickening after what feels like hours of him easing you open. “fuck, you’re doing so good. keep going, ‘toru.”

the inclusion of his mouth on you is almost overwhelming. you’re surprised that he was doing so well considering that he only had porn for reference. you know he’s just being thorough but it’s hard to keep yourself from pushing him down and taking what you want.

satoru can feel you tighten around him. your moans causing his cock to twitch against the sheets. he needs you, craves you. “baby,” he leans up so that you are face to face, “i want to be inside you now. is that okay?”

you nod your head so quickly he laughs at you. “someone’s eager.”

“shut up and just do it already.” you pout, but he kisses it off your face. partially because he wants to taste you again, and also to distract you from the feeling of his fingers pulling out of you.

“can i ask you for something?” he murmurs, gently biting on your bottom lip and pulling it into his mouth.

“hm?” you murmur against his mouth, “what is it?”

“i want you to ride me,” he says, kissing down to the spot where your shoulder and neck meet. his kisses become rougher, for sure leaving marks on your skin. “i wanna watch you bouncing on top of me, wanna see you make a mess while i’m buried inside you. you can say no but i think i’ve touched myself to the thought too many times to not ask.”

you feel your heart jump to your stomach. “you… thought about me?”

“i still think about you. i know you think about me, too.”

you decide to not engage, ignoring the sudden desire to confess something to him. “get on your back then.” you say, pushing into his ribs so that he’d roll over to the side. he looks so pretty like this, lips all red and puffy. you position yourself over him and satoru runs his palms up your stomach.

“hold me for a sec,” you instruct, grabbing the box of condoms once he has a steady hold on you. you tear open the packaging and ease it on his extremely hard length. he winces as your hand grips him as it goes down but once it seems to be properly secured, you grab some more lube and squeeze it onto him.

you position yourself on top and line him up against you. for a moment, anxiety flickers in his eyes, but it quickly turns into determination. “what’s your color, ‘toru?” you ask, your hand moving to brush some of the wild hair from his face.

“green. definitely fucking green.”

you feel the grip on your hips as you ease yourself down on his length. he tenses up once he feels the first squeeze of you around him and as you slowly sink down, his grip on you tightens before he forgets how to breathe. “h–holy shit why are you so tight?”

you let your hands rest on his chest as you catch your breath, you realize how thankful you are for the prep from before when you shiver at the feeling of him twitching inside you. “c–can i move?” you whimper, feeling his grip release just a bit.

satoru nods his head and you feel him squeezing the fat of your waist to lift you up and then back down again, sucking him in from the tip and back down to the base. he lets out a guttural moan that you feel shudder in his chest. he looks up at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. 

“faster,” he breathes out, “fuck me faster.”

“s-satoru!” you gasp, placing your forehead against his as you lean down. your eyes close and your breath shakes, the air heavy with the air of lust that clings to you both now.

“wrap your arms around me. i want to try something.” your arms loop around his neck and he plants his feet into the mattress, the surface topping ever so slightly.

before you can process the change, satoru begins the process of taking your breath away and filling each thought with him. he thrusts inside of you at a deep, slow pace. each thrust feels like a competition, every moan you give a reward. it isn’t perfect and it takes a moment for him to get a solid rhythm, but once he does you feel yourself relinquish control.

your mouth falls open as you pant into his mouth — a thin layer of sweat sticking your bodies together. you feel a familiar pressure between your legs and try your best to warn him. “satoru i–“ you catch a glimpse of his eyes and can’t help but to bury your face into his shoulder.

“you’re squeezing me so tight. are you gonna, oh fuck–!” you can’t stop yourself from cumming against him, your release pouring out of you and dripping down on his cock as he continues to fuck your tight hole. the mixture of cum and lube is sticky and matting the hair at his finely trimmed base. satoru’s thrusts get sloppy and hurried, his grip on you keeping you from moving away. but you have no intention of running from him.

“t–too t–tight. gonna cum–!”

satoru releases into the condom, his hips jolting with each thick spurt. his pace slows as you whine and whimper against his chest. your fucked out body barely registering the hot, sticky mess between you two. “sorry, i …think i might have scratched you,” you whisper, finger grazing over a red line in his shoulder.

“it’s alright. lay here with me for a sec.” you nod your head weakly, pressing your face into his neck. you decide to talk about things in the morning but that doesn’t stop him using a warm rag to clean you off and giving you one of his shirts to sleep in.

he also forces you to drink a few gulps of water. some of it spills out the sides of your mouth and he makes you laugh when he sticks out his tongue to lick it up. he then makes sure that you take care of your hair before you fall asleep, keeping it protected under a silk bonnet that he somehow managed to pick up at the store, as well. he’s attentive and gentle and so far beyond what you imagined he’d ever be towards you with his usually goofy personality.

that is until you wake up the next morning and see a few messages light up on your phone.

[8:00 am] toru: ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ヽ(°□° )ノ me drowning in your pussy last night lol

[8:10 am] toru: jk plz come help with breakfast i burned the pancakes.

let’s just say that you appreciate the attempt.

over the next few days, you talk a bit more about the state of your relationship. if you wanted to be open about it online or if you wanted to let things fizzle out on their own. eventually, after setting more than a few ground rules, you both agree to be discrete. you'd let everyone else figure it out in their own time.

this doesn't halt satoru's social media presence, though, as the man regularly posts a photo of the new feline addition to his family. he easily gains back his two hundred followers thanks to ‘exploiting his new child’ as you so eloquently put it.

the future looked promising, but there were still things you both had to navigate to make your relationship work. it was going to be hard moving through life as lovers instead of friends but if anyone were to ask you — it was well worth the effort.

note: so if this looks familiar, it is! this is a repost. this is one of my favorite fics i've written so i'm reposting it here on my new blog since my last one was marked as explicit. ty for reading and give me a follow if you want to see more.

also ty to @saintshigaraki for originally inspiring this story.

TODOROSIE. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.