𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙

“are you twelve, kacchan?” you huff. “get off’a meeee,”

“‘m boreeeed,” bakugou complains, voice gruff but still sort of whiny. “just playin’…”

you roll your eyes, squeezing his arm sitting comfortably at your neck. “play with something else.”

me as soon as im home:

then one evening, drunk at a party, you mention the Shouto Effect in front of him. you realize it's the first time you've said it out loud when he looks at you, handsome and bemused, and you patiently explain to him that he's the most beautiful man on earth and no one else gets treated quite the way he does. that most people don't get tongue tied that often, or flush beet red that often, or fall all over themselves to give others things in the hope that they might like them. that he's special.

shouto looks contemplative as you explain, eyes growing just slightly wider, before something passes over his face—a look of intense interest. you wonder if he's just learning the true way of the world, and coming to terms with the idea that he might be prettier than he realized, and having A Time Of It.

sorry to put your tags on blast on this insane breach containment post I have since muted, but you're right and you should say it.

princess!reader in an arranged marriage to the son of your father's greatest foe, katsuki bakugou.

you try to get out of it, begging and pleading, fighting your fate because... your heart belongs to another! but the wedding takes place anyway. it’s a bleak affair, and tears slip down your cheeks as you’re essentially sold for the sake of your kingdom. at least your betrothed has the decency to look upset as well.

when you return to his castle that same night, some of your fears are assuaged as he makes a point of avoiding you, slamming the door to his chambers when you call on him to fulfill your wifely duties.

when you knock softly, asking if he has any plans to consummate your marriage, you hear glass shatter against the other side as he bellows for you to leave him be, says he didn’t want this any more than you did. let them them wait for an heir, there’s still time yet.

what you don't know? your most loyal knight and protector, sir midoriya, has been assigned by the king to accompany you to your new dwelling. he praised how constantly he'd protected you over the years, and implored him to keep his daughter safe in her new life.

when you return to your bedchamber, the figure stood at the door gives you pause. something familiar in the curve of his shoulder, the sound of his breathing... you take a step closer to peer beneath his visor, and your hands fly to your mouth when you see the familiar, shiny glint of green.

"my knight..." you say lowly, whispered in secret. his eyes shift from yours, fix on the wall.

he murmurs, "princess..." softly enough that you barely make it out.

"not... not your princess?" you ask. you drop your hands to smooth your nightgown. he chances one more glance down at your imploring face, quirks his brow ever so slightly.

"are you?"

"always," you breathe, fingertips skating the surface of his chest plate, before stepping into your bedroom.

later, when the moon is low and the sky dark, he slips into your room, closing the door silently behind him.

"princess," he says, standing stiffly by the entrance. you're awake, sitting propped and expecting under your covers. when you see him, you fling them off and stumble across the room

"your princess, yours," you insist, holding out your arms.

his composure finally slips, and he crumples to his knees to cling to your shaking form, both of you curling into each other in the hazy air of the witching hour.

he carries you to your bed, lays you gently upon it, and carefully removes his armor, placing each piece in order before he crawls beside you, on top of you, bearing his weight down heavy and slow until there's no space between you.

when he slips inside, he murmurs about how much he treasures you, how he thought he'd lost you forever, and you just cling to him, lashes wet with tears.

with your knight by your side, the transition becomes easier. prince katsuki continues to ignore you; fortunately, your days are primarily your own. you explore the grounds, become familiar with the vast library, and attend to your duties. in the wee hours of the night and into the early morning, your knight keeps you company, eases your burdens.

everything changes on one such occasion. the prince was known to value rest, rarely if ever seen anywhere but his bedchambers past a certain hour. but he'd decided it was time, for he and his bride to at least have a conversation. he'd been losing sleep over it, kept up by the nagging guilt, so he decides to pay you a visit then and there. if he must wake you, then so be it.

when he hears strange noises coming from your room, he at first thinks it's an intruder, but before he can call for someone he realizes that there's something off. there's supposed to be a knight stationed outside your door at all times, but there was no such knight here now.

when he slams the door open, you yelp and izuku jerks back, crashing off the bed to reach for the sword he intentionally placed just within his reach. within an instant, he has katsuki pinned to the wall, blade to his throat, before his eyes widen in shock.

"y-your majesty, i–" katsuki shoves him off and takes in the scene.

"what is this?" he spits. you stammer excuses, panic roiling in your chest as you try and work out a way to escape almost certain death. of course, it's your knight who comes to your rescue.

"i was attending to the princess' needs," he says, tone carefully controlled. he's hastily pulled on at least a shred of clothing, so he's no longer completely bare. only you could hear the loathing and venom that breaks through his voice.

"her needs?" katsuki demands, and izuku nods.

"yes, your majesty. her – marital – needs, have been... neglected. i do as my princess commands."

katsuki pauses to process this meaning, his face flushed in anger. "neglected..."

"yes, your majesty."

katsuki's face is burning when he turns to you. "and this knight.... attends these needs? at your request?"

"yes," you whisper, and katsuki jerks his head back to izuku. balls his hands into fists.

"show me."

you and izuku both react in surprise, and speak at once, words tumbling over each other.

"your majesty–" "my prince, have you never–"

there's something so adorable about the way you flush so warmly. how the muscle in your jaw clenches as you will yourself to relax for him. to sit nice and pretty so he can move from lapping circles around your clit to wiggling his tongue into you. He can feel the muscles of your thighs tense around his head before you manually force yourself to ease. you want him. you want him so badly that you're fighting every instinct in your body to let him in. to let him deeper.

it makes him dizzy, the power trip of it all. the proof of your adoration in every trembling line of you.

even when all he wants to do is bend you over and sink into you, inch by throbbing inch until youre dripping and whining and babbling with it all- he slows down. he savors the stretch. your wet hole learning to accept the warm length of his tongue as it slides into you. already lubricated and soft enough not to send your pelvic floor clenching shut. licking and moaning and sucking until you're sweet and pliable under him. melting under his touch until there's nothing but nonsense dripping from yours.

lapping at your clit and looking up at you. watching the way your expression contorts with concentration when he slowly slides a finger into you, the length of it coated with lube that dribbles down his wrist to join the puddle on the bed- wet from his saliva and your needy cunt. he praises you so sweetly, his voice low and thick like honey.

"what a good girl, I knew you could do it for me," he stills as your cunt clenches impossibly tight around his finger. your eyes clench closed and when they open he sees the way your lashes spike, stuck together with clinging tears.

he's so hard that it makes it impossible for him to think straight.

but you're trying so valiantly, raf can at the very least put in a little more effort to stay on mission. and it is such an enjoyable mission too. when you finally relax enough for him to move without worrying about hurting you, he prods you gently. his lithe finger sliding in and out as he distracts you from any twinge of discomfort by running his tongue around the swollen pearl of your clit. smiling and chuckling softly under his breath when you mewl and clench and coat him in more of your wetness.

cute cute cute cute cuuuuuutee

he can tell you're ready for more when you start to wiggle your hips. when you spread you legs wider and tilt your pelvis up- presenting yourself to him like an animal in heat. raf kisses your clit and pulls his finger out, watching light bounce against the thin strand of pre connecting the two of you with rapt fascination.

He undoes his belt and sheds his trousers. The front of his underwear is wet and sticky, transparent over the head of his leaking cock. A desperate and whimpering sigh fills the air as Rafayel goes to adjust and loses the battle to resist stroking himself just a little bit. A wet shlick can be heard over his heavy panting and soft groan. His cock drips with precum and the wetness of your pussy that has coated his fingers. The taste of you dances on his tongue and he licks his lips to intensify the flavor.

He could cum from this alone, Rafayel thinks- and then thinks some more. About the way your nose had crinkled with concentration as you tried so hard to let him fill you with a finger- just one finger. About your sweet gasps and moans- the way you'd clenched your toes and fingers about the mattress as your thighs trembled and you fought the urge to snap shut on him (not that he would have complained).

What he would give to cum all over your pussy right now. To soak you in his seed and then pump it back into you as he whimpered and cried and the overstimulation of it all left him no choice but to silence himself by burying his teeth into your nape-

Rafayel shudders and stops stroking himself with a gasp.

He looks down at you and thinks he must not look much different. Eyes wide, pupils blown. Lips parted and body desperate for sensation. For touch. For pleasure.

"C'mere," he beckons, laying back and opening his arms. You go to him willingly- hurriedly. When the fat of your ass cushions his cock he can't help the way his hips jerk. "Spread your legs for me, good girl."

You rest your thighs on his, feeling him throb against your lower back as he hums and leans over to grab something from the bedside table. Head resting on his chest, you jolt in surprise when he presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss- and then presses the suddenly buzzing head of a vibrator to your sensitive and swollen clit.

"Ooh, so sensitiiivee," he drawls, voice warm with mirth as you moan and lean back against him. Your hips ride the wave of vibration and gyrate against his cock, smearing precum across your backside as his panting paints the air alongside your dulcet cries.

"can we do one, cutie? just one again?" he asks, not actually interested in an answer as he pulls away the vibrator and slides a lubed up finger over your clit and around your slit. "i promise it'll feel just as good as it did last time."

when you whimper and nod he lets out a pleased breath and kisses your temple in praise. he hums with approval, the thrum of it filling your chest, as he delicately slots his middle finger into you. it's thicker than his pointer and stretches you just a little more- but that extra millimeter makes a notable difference in your panic as you feel the muscles in your thighs begin to tense.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay," he consoles, as if feeling your anxiety. Which, considering how you're beginning to clench around his finger, he just might. He kisses your temple and then your cheekbone. The next flutters over the top of your ear and then he's biting your earlobe only to soothe it with the sweetest suckling kiss. "Just breathe, sweetheart. Like this."

Rafayel exhales hotly across your nape and trails his lips against your jawbone. "Just breathe with me," he hums and each breath flutters through you, raising your hairs to a point of overstimulation. You clench around him again, but sweetly this time. Beckoningly.

You feel him smile into the next kiss he presses into your neck, his self satisfaction a purring wave that crests into you.

The desire to make some kind of quip at him nips at your tongue, but is washed out of your mind as he presses the vibrator back to your clit and it buzzes to life. He moans against you, his tongue hot and laving as it swirls up your nape and flicks against your earlobe.

The finger inside of you moves gently. Rocking in minute movements until you're soft and keening in his arms. Rafayel circles your clit with the vibrator before pressing down on it sharply- meanly. It fills your body with electricity and you squeal as he moans and pants alongside you.

The fingers inside of you, his ring finger sneakily sliding in without fuss during the sharp twang of sensation, crook sweetly. You whine as the realization that he's pressed a second finger into you causes a low current of anxiety to peak.

"It doesn't hurt," he croons, "fuck, you didn't even feel it, baby. So brave. So strong. You didn't even notice it sliding into you, you were so wet and ready for me."

At his words, the tightness in you eases. Raf's right. You hadn't noticed. And the stretch, it doesn't pinch. It's not easy. It's not comfortable. But it's nice in a not nice way.

You wiggle your hips to adjust to the sensation.

"That's a good girl," he says and kisses your jawline again. "See? It's nice isn't it- feeling a little more full inside?"

"Y-yeah," you whine, looking up at Rafayel through tear clumped lashes.

His thighs jolt to either side of you and his cock twitches against your ass. Blood flushes through him, turning his already flushed face into a darling shade of pink. You can feel the sharp inhale in his chest and hear the muscles of his throat working, straining, for a moment.

"You gotta be careful, cutie," he rasps after an extended silence. "It's hard to control myself when you act like that."

"Like what?" The vibrator buzzes pleasantly against your thigh, momentarily forgotten.

"Like I'm ravishing you," he says and nips your ear. "Which, I think I am."

"Oh," you sigh as he returns the vibrator to your clit and traces it with gentle circles. The lips of your pussy are spread wide with his thumb and pinky. He pumps his ring and middle fingers in a shallow thrust that makes your toes clench. "You definitely are."

In retort, he grinds the vibrator into your clit until you can do little else but throw your head back against his chest and wail. The fingers inside of you begin to reach deeper, moving more fully with each pump until you can feel him sliding in and out of you. A sensation that would normally have you locking your knees together. Instead you tilt your hips up for him, all too happy to bear the slight twinge of discomfort in return for the pleasure that rolls through you with each snap of his wrist.

"Good girl, good fucking girl," he praises. "How about one more, pretty baby? Huh cutie? Think you can do that for me?"

You whimper and nod your head. Unfortunately, in the moment it takes him to line up his third finger your body seems to have second thoughts. The very tip of his pointer presses into you and the tiniest pinch causes all sensation in you to go cold and sharp.

Rafayel notices immediately and changes course. He curls his forefinger and rests it flat on the swollen nub of your clit and presses down. Despite your body's attempt to shut down, pleasure zings through you. A bolt of sensation that stirs heat back to life.

"Such a skittish thing," he teases, lighthearted in a way that soothes any sense of embarrassment or self consciousness from you. "Don't worry, I'm good with the shy ones."

The vibrator noses along the side of your clit as he presses down on it from above. The sensation overwhelming as he gently begins to rock the fingers inside of you once again. You pant and wiggle your hips and he kisses your temple. The warm, sticky dribble of precum spills down the curve of your ass as his cock twitches and kicks against you.

"Sorry," you say, voice slurred and dazed with pleasure.

"Hmm? For what?" he asks and turns the vibrator up a notch.

Your teeth nearly clack together around your next sentence.

"Being-being-selfish and- ahhhhh- making it all about- meee-"

He snorts and grinds the vibrator into you at the same time he presses all three fingers down. Your legs kick out against the onslaught as your hips jerk away from Rafayel's touch only for him to follow.

"What are you talking about? Making a cute girl squeal and cry on my fingers is some of the most fun a guy can have," he chides and grinds meanly against your clit until you're babbling wordlessly with your head thrown back against his shoulder. "See?"

"Yes," you chant, each word melting into the next as Rafayel grinds his hips up and his fingers down. "Yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"Good. Now just lay back and let me fuck you, yeah?"

Okay. Okay. Okay. Yes. Yes. Yes.

You don't even know if you're speaking, if your mouth is falling open and language is spilling out or if you're just panting and mewling beneath his touch.

His fingers, his pretty pretty pretty fingers, curl into you over and over. The wet snap of his wrist echoes, falling in rhythm with his heavy breathing. The vibrator buzzes over it all, a gray noise of pleasure that turns you in a puddle of pleasured static in Rafayel's arms.

As the muscles in your thighs relax and you begin to go slack, you can feel that third finger of his leave your clit. The rumbling of the vibrator changes as it glides over you, dulling sensation elsewhere until you can only just feel the way his forefinger traces your inner lip alongside where the other two are pumping in and out of you.

The vibrator hums.

He pumps in.

The vibrator thrums.

He pumps out.

The vibrator purrs.

And a third finger joins the other two, pressing into you at a leisurely pace. Stretching you wide and sliding deep in a slow slow slow pump that makes you melt around him.

"Oh, that's a good girl," he croons as he rubs the vibrator gently over your pussy. "Would you look at that? What a perfect girl."

His praise sits low in your belly and you feel so full that all you can do is whine and wiggle your hips. Any sting, any pinch, is soothed by the buzz that encompasses every sensation.

"Shhh, let me take care of you, yeah? You've been so brave for me, let me handle the rest, cutie." He kisses your temple and go completely limp against him as you let out a heavy breath.

"Well done. So brave. So good. Nothing could ever be better than you."

You pulse around his fingers as he nuzzles the vibrator over your clit. It buzzes and grinds against you, making you clench on the digits rocking gently inside of your cunt. Rafayel doesn't bother with thrusting and instead gives you time to savor the stretch of him. You think of his fingers, long and lithe and so beautiful, buried deep inside of you. The soft pads exploring you with delicate movements. His strong palms and pretty wrists dripping with you.

How much bigger would his cock feel than this? You try to picture it. The flushed head with a slightly lavender tint. His pretty shaft, blushing pink beneath the foreskin. The way he dribbles with precum, always so leaky and spilling as it presses against your hole just begging to slide inside-

Rafayel lets out a breathless little laugh as you squeeze around him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, his tone teasing. He rotates his wrist just so his thumb can press against your clit. pinching it gently against the vibrator and making you mewl. "Me? My hands? My mouth?"

He kisses your ear and licks along the curve.

"My cock?"

Your hips buck and he chuckles.

"Think about it as much as you want," he says and gently, so gently, crooks his fingers inside of you against a place that makes it impossible for you to think straight. "I won't be mad. It's all yours, anyways."

Rafayel rubs that spot in your cunt with delicate precision. "Just think of me deep in you like this. The head of my cock kissing you right here. Wouldn't that be nice? Don't you want that?"

You nod wordlessly and he lets out a stuttered breath- half excitement, half disbelief.

"Ooh, greedy girl," he murmurs. "But don't worry, I'm greedy too. I want to fill you up. Want to feel my balls slapping against your ass. Want to watch you cry and whine and beg me please as I stretch you around my cock."

His fingers thrust into you as he rocks his hips simultaneously. The insistent press of his erection fills your mind with images of it sliding into you. Of everything he'd just said becoming reality.

"Don't you want that, baby? Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Yes," you pant. "Yes, yes, yes. Want you, Raf."

"What do you want?" he asks, a tinge cruel. Taking satisfaction in the way you cant your hips back into him and spread your legs wider. Presenting yourself like an animal in heat. It's only fair- you make him feel the same way. "What do you want, baby?"

"You, inside me," you say and look up at him. Pupils blown wide and without a lick of embarrassment on your expression.

He bucks his hips again, this time without intending to.

"You want my cock? You want to feel me fucking you here?" Rafayel flicks his wrist and you feel his fingers pump into you again- his thumb sliding against your clit and the vibrator circling you meanly.

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Then feel me," he says and thrusts into you. His fingers sink deep and crook against your inner walls. They curl gently over and over again, coaxing out a sensation that you've never indulged in before, milking your pleasure until you're shuddering in his arms. The vibrator buzzes and purrs as he presses it and his thumb against your clit.

The sensations are overwhelming and you can faintly hear him encouraging you atop it all. His lovely voice praising you and sweet talking you to sink into the pleasure he so greedily draws.

And you do, crying out as you pulse around his fingers, cumming as he speaks you through it gently.

"What a good girl. Look at you," his voice trembles as he circles his thumb over your clit over and over and over again, watching the way your expression scrunches and goes slack in waves, "So pretty. So beautiful. I could watch you come on my fingers forever."

And you think Rafayel almost does as he drags out your orgasm until you're gasping and begging him to stop.

When he finally goes still, you continue to jerk and tremble in his arms, the aftershock of it all racing through you like lightning. Every slight movement- the shifting of his hips, the brush of his palm, even his breath against your skin- sending you into another tumult of pleasure.

The vibrator turns off but you continue to tremble, your body filled with static as he starts to slip his fingers from your pussy. It's slow and every centimeter makes you clench and drift into another series of near orgasmic pelvic contractions.

The wet slide of Rafayel's tongue over his lips is audible as his fingers finally pull out of you with a last round of post orgasmic pulsing. You clench around nothing and faintly feel dissatisfied. Wanting more and more and more.

Maybe you are every bit as greedy as Rafayel says.

"Good, how do you feel about me taking my turn at being greedy then?"

You blink up at him in confusion. Had you spoken aloud?

He looks down at you. Pupils blown wide. Face flushed and lips desperation wet.

"Do what you want to me," you tell him, limp and leaving yourself up to his mercy. You lick your lips- watching the way his eyes follow the movement of your tongue and then finally meet yours. "I'm all yours, Rafayel."

He huffs, an exasperated and almost shy sound.

"Dangerous."

You let out a shuddering breath as he shifts the two of you until you're sitting high on his stomach. Legs still spread. Rafayel presses a hand to your inner thigh, keeping you open for him as he goes to adjust himself. His cock curves up from between your thighs, rising between your wet folds. The tip flushed a soft lavender and dribbling precum onto the fat of your pussy.

"Stay there," he grunts and moves his hands to your hips. He holds you in place, his grip strong in a way that sends a thrill through you. With a quivering exhale, he pumps his hips. The length of him slides over you with a lewd, slick sound. His pretty cockhead parts your folds as he humps up into you.

You whine atop him, wiggling your hips and ignoring his sharp, "Stay still!". Rafayel curves his fingers against you, digging into your skin as he stills.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks. "I told you to stay still."

He pauses, and you feel his grip go slack by a margin.

"Unless, you want to come again?"

You bite your lip.

He laughs. It's more an amused puff of air than anything else.

"Anything and everything for you, then."

Rafayel changes the angle of his hips. Takes a hand off your hip and uses it to press his cock more flush against you. With a low, purring groan, he begins to ride you once more. The length of him slides against you over and over, his head grinding against your clit and your lips. Teasing your slit over and over as you roll your hips alongside him. He hisses each time his head catches against your entrance, threatening to press into you.

"Stay. Still." Rafayel grits his teeth and braces his forearm against one thigh as the other digs into the fat of your hip. "If you keep moving like that and I end up slipping inside and fucking you stupid- it won't be my fault."

He fucks your folds like he's imagining himself deep inside of you. His hips cocking and the muscles of his lower abdomen rippling against your ass as he thrusts against you without consideration or care. Desperately chasing his pleasure amidst his own whimpering and moaning.

His cockhead bullies your clit over and over again. You twitch and jerk, desperate to break away from the endless and incessant pleasure-but his hold on you is unbreakable. Strong arms keeping you still and unable to do anything else but take what he gives you.

You cry out as you cum, the sensation sharp and unlike before. Whereas your previous orgasm had filled you with rolling waves of pleasure, this one was almost painful in it's intensity, forcing you to endure it as your lover refused to give you any escape or ease.

The wet slap of his hips fills the air as his thrusts rises to a frantic, desperate tempo. Muttering sharp curses under his breath, Rafayel slows and moans low as his hips stutter. He covers the head of his cock with his hand as he cums, spilling all over his fingers and your swollen pussy.

He shudders, his breaths high and wheezing as he rides out the final waves of his climax with gentle pulses of his hips that spread the sticky mess of him. You hear the wet slide of him wetting his lips, the only warning you have before he presses down with his palm and grinds the length of his still twitching cock through your folds.

"Ohhhh, that's nice," he sighs. A low hum of pleasure fills the air as he does it again. The sound of him is sticky and wet and lewd in a way that makes your thighs clench. He laughs. Low and breathless. "Just wait, cutie. I need a moment, yeah?"

The hand on your hips smooths up your tummy, and presses flat against your sternum to squish you to Rafayel's chest. The other hand lets go of his cock and rests against your inner thigh. Sticky and dripping with cum. Yours and his.

"I wasn't lying, you know," Rafayel says after a long moment.

"About what?"

"About having fun making you come on my fingers. And my tongue. And my toys. And-"

"I get it," you interrupt him, feeling a little embarrassed.

"But you don't." The hand on your chest presses you closer and the one on your thigh squeezes the fat and muscle of you gently. "I love cumming. Cumming is awesome. The best, really-"

"-I mean, yeah-"

"-Not finished," he chides you. "Cumming feels really good. But this?" Rafayel's hand slides from your thigh to cup your pussy and the pressure of his touch alone makes you clench. You hear him smile.

"This is better than the best. This is a power trip." He spreads your lips with his fingers and you wiggle your hips with a soft sound that sounds suspiciously like a whine. "Knowing that I can break you down, knowing that no one else can open you up like I can- that my fingers in this pretty pussy alone are proof of just how good I can make you feel."

"Being able to fuck you open on my fingers and my tongue and my toys, and eventually my cock- it's like your body is giving itself to me," Rafayel says and you think you hear him getting embarrassed. "You're not mine because I got lucky. You're mine because I put in the effort make you feel good."

He presses a kiss to the back of your head and you feel him rest his cheek there. "Taking the time to prove myself to your body makes me feel like I deserve you."

he’s banned from the library.

you’re still not sure what the final straw was—vaping in the silent zone, hotboxing the stairwell, calling someone’s econ group “broke losers with no pussy”—but the front desk staff knows his face now. they don’t even give him a warning anymore. just glare at him through the glass if he so much as stands outside for too long. doesn’t stop him, though. never does.

because every night you study late, he’s there.

just loitering. half-slouched against the bike rack, hood up, headphones in, tapping the toe of his sneaker against the concrete like he’s counting down the seconds till you come outside. you pretend not to notice him. pretend your stomach doesn’t flip when you see him through the exit doors, arms crossed over his chest, mouth already twitching into that stupid little grin.

“took your sweet fucking time,” he says when you finally step out.

you don’t respond. just let him take your backpack without asking, like always, like it’s nothing. he slings it over one shoulder like it weighs nothing. it’s not chivalry. it’s just him. rude, smug, and territorial as fuck. walking you back to your dorm like he owns the sidewalk, like no one else on this campus is allowed to look at you for too long.

“why do you always act like you’re mad at me?” he asks, like he’s not texting you constantly. like he didn’t blow your phone up an hour ago with: u still in the library? and come outside i’m bored and i’m serious i’m gonna bark.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye. “i’m not mad.”

“you look mad.”

“you’re annoying.”

he laughs. loud enough that people turn to look. and then he nudges your shoulder with his arm and says, “yeah, but you like it.” and you don’t say anything, because he’s right. because even when he’s irritating, even when he gets you in trouble for sneaking past the front desk, you still wait for him to show up. still check your phone. still keep the sweater he left in your bed that smells like weed and cheap detergent and the skin behind his ear.

"well, hello to you, too."

"i'm serious," comes an awfully familiar, albeit abrasive, tone, the edges of which have been softened by sleep as it emanates from your phone's speakers. "it's 4 am."

you sniff, haphazardly propping the device even more upright against your mug of half-finished hot chocolate. you try to ignore the snarl that's now on full display in front of you. "i know what time it is, kats."

"i'm starting to think you don't. wait. is that—did you cook yourself a whole ass meal?"

you look down at what used to be a full plate of eggs and luncheon meat, then glance back up, wincing. you didn't realize it was caught in the frame. "i was hungry?"

"you could've just ordered takeout."

"i already had the rice cooking when i realized that, so."

a grunt. (weird. you guess he's too tired to argue.) "how's your cough?"

you sigh. "not getting any better. couldn't sleep—i just kept on hacking my lungs out. legitimately, i feel like my brain's gonna explode from all the coughing."

bakugou frowns. his room is dark—at least from what you can tell through the screen—save for the light emanating from his phone. he shifts on his back, eyes looking a tad bit more awake with concern. "you took your meds?"

"yep," you reply, and when he only nods in response, "you should really go back to sleep, kats."

"doubt i can. not after you tell me all this shit."

at that, you can't help but snort.

bakugou's frown deepens.

"sorry," you chuckle after a beat of silence, suddenly feeling guilty. "i guess i'm still new to this."

with not much to say, bakugou nods slowly, lips pulled into a thin line.

(he doesn't thank you for not spelling it out and sparing him the embarrassment. he wishes you could feel his gratitude, anyway.)

“We can stop any time you want, princess.”

There’s a trace of amusement in his voice when Bakugou leans in and whispers in your ear, thumb stroking your clit in time with the syllables that roll off of his tongue.

He says it so quietly, you know the cameras don’t pick it up.

But they do, undoubtedly, catch the way you hiccup and gasp, chest heaving and thighs trembling while you come for him. Hard.

Again.

For the fourth time.

(Or is it five? You’re losing count.)

The thing is—you’ve been doing this for a long time. This whole fucking people and looking pretty on camera thing. Orgasms have never come easy for you, but you’ve gotten damn good at faking them like a pro. All that really matters is what the audience thinks they’re seeing, after all.

But Bakugou—

You thought it was a fluke, the first time you filmed together. The way you went careening off the edge of a dizzying, gushing climax that took you completely by surprise. You wrote it off as being a little too pent up, an anomaly.

It’s probably your fault that you agreed to shoot something else with him when his agent personally reached out to yours to request you specifically. Your fault for breezing over the script and missing the fact that the whole plot revolves around a woman who’s never fully satisfied, no matter how many times she climaxes.

Now you’re too many real orgasms deep to count, your overstimulated, soaked cunt throbbing from being passed between Bakugou’s hands. His mouth. His cock.

His chin is still coated in your slick, still carries the remains of the way he palmed your ass and tongue-fucked you till you nearly cried, hips wildly bucking off of the mattress.

He pulls you into a new position this time, one that feels far more intimate than the rest when you find yourself straddling his lap, eyes already on the verge of rolling back into your head at the feeling of his thick cock stretching you open again.

“You know,” he starts, using his thighs to lift you just enough to start fucking up into you, slow and deep. “I think it’s funny.”

Lips parting on a moan that you can’t hold back, you card your fingers through his sweaty, mussed blond hair. He smiles a little when you pull on it. “What?”

He runs his thumb over one of your pebbled nipples, leans in to graze his teeth over it, his tongue. He sucks on it languidly, till your pussy is clenching down on him like a vice.

The sloppy, wet sound of his cock pumping into you echoes across the set. Someone off to your left adjusts a light ever so slightly.

Bakugou’s mouth trails up your chest, over your shoulder, up the side of your neck till his lips are hovering over yours. Light dances in his eyes.

“I’ve seen your work. You fake all of your orgasms,” he murmurs, one hand sliding to the small of your back. You can’t help the shiver than runs through you.

”But with me…” he thrusts up into you, particularly hard.

Your vision goes white, your cunt spasms.