HÊRO

At the mention of the lead singer, your head almost brutally whips to the side and nervously searches for the sight your best friend has just pointed out. And, as you let out a shaky sigh, you try to keep your composure as best as you can but just as usual, this turns out to be a bigger struggle than you make it to be.

However, despite the intensity of Kyoutani Kentarou’s dominant and strong aura, you can't stop yourself from letting your gaze subtly roam his tall figure.

His body is covered in dark leather from head to toe, the only colored part of his appearance being his freshly dyed pastel pink hair; tons of chains casually dangling from his waistband but also adorning his tattoo covered neck. Your eyes find their way to his strong hands, the dark lines on his tanned, veiny skin sending shivers down your spine and within a second, you catch yourself thinking about the mental image of having them wrapped around your throat.

You feel yourself getting flustered at the mere thought of doing such lewd things with the lead singer, yet every single night it’s him you think of when your hand finds its way into your drenched panties, regardless of how much he intimidates you.

A soft sigh falls past your lips when his strong scent, a mixture of cigarette smoke and citrus, hits your senses in the best way possible. However, that exact scent easily pulls you back into reality.

By the time you find your way out of your arousal filled haze, you’re quick to notice two pairs of eyes boring into you from the side.

“Why don’t you just take a p- ouch, Iwa!”, Oikawa’s soft voice breaks into a whine at his best friend’s elbow hitting his stomach in a rather harsh way and for the nth time within just an hour, you’re grateful for Iwaizumi’s presence and ability to keep the pretty guitarist in his lane.

“Sorry, little one”, Hajime mumbles and rolls his eyes, his fingers pulling the little cigarette from behind his ears before he gently lays it in between his lips and lights it right after, “he’s even more talkative than usual.”

“It’s okay-”, “I’m sorry for being late, guys, traffic was a pain in the ass as usual”, Kyoutani’s deep, raspy voice easily overtones your weak attempt at voicing out your gratitude towards Iwa and you hate, yet love the effect he has on you.

You don’t even care that he blatantly interrupted or hasn’t even made the effort to at least glance at you. Just the mere thought of his presence as close to you as possible is everything you need and want.

And you’re very much aware just how pathetic you are, but at this point you can’t bring yourself to deny anything regarding Kyoutani Kentarou anymore.

After knowing him for as long as you do, you’ve finally come to accept his rather negative or neutral, both equally bad, feelings towards you.

It’s been literal years since Iwaizumi, your childhood best friend and neighbor, had introduced you to his grumpy bandmate yet nothing has changed ever since.

Kyoutani’s never even tried to like or get to know you, despite the large amount of time you spent with him and the other guys.

In the beginning you struggled a lot with his distant attitude, your brain making sure to plant the thought of his distance towards you being your weight and your general physical appearance but as the years went by, you just grew used to it. Back then, he used to startle you whenever he started talking, whereas now you just enjoy the soothing sound of his raspy voice.

You can’t remember when exactly you had developed the huge and disgusting crush on the lead singer with the buzzcut, you just know that at one point you couldn’t stop thinking about him. It didn’t take long for you to realize just how bad you had fallen for him — a guy who made it seem like talking to or just looking at you was pure torture.

Iwa was also rather quick to notice your shy glances and dreamy stares towards his tattoo clad best friend.

But he waited until you came and talked to him about it, knowing you needed the time to process your own feelings before he got indirectly involved.

To his, and probably your own surprise too, you told him to never ever mention anything when Kyoutani is around. You simply didn’t and still don’t want him to know with the sole intentions of saving your own heart. You’ve had enough guys break your heart or take advantage of you because of your bigger body, you certainly don’t want to go through another one of those heartbreaks.

Because after everything, one thing won’t ever change — Kentarou doesn’t like you.

A harsh fact you’re very much aware of, which is why you definitely don’t need him to explicitly voice it out and make you feel even worse about yourself than you already do.

And you definitely like the little fake image of him, which you’ve created in your head over the past few years way too much to let go just yet.

So, just as usual, you calmly avert your gaze to the floor and let out a soft sigh before you let yourself get back to reality.

“Don’t worry about it”, Iwaizumi replies calmly, running one of his ring clad hands through his thick hair as he approaches the pink haired lead singer, “Tadashi’s sucking off Terushima in the storage room, so we can’t get started anyway”, he casually adds, eliciting a groan of annoyance from Kyoutani, but soft giggles from you.

“I woke up horny so I didn’t last as long as usual, big boy”, Terushima, the band’s drummer and Kyoutani’s best friend, suddenly exclaims as he strolls out of the door at the very back of the practice room, followed by his freckled boyfriend, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“We said no more blowjobs in the storage room, Teru”, Kentarou scolds the drummer, softly knocking the fake blonde’s head to the side as he comes to stand in front of him, “there are always cum stains everywhere and you never clean up after yourself, you fucking cunt.”

“Always with the swearing, I swear to God..”, Oikawa sighs and rolls his eyes as he puts his hair into a little bun before grabbing his guitar with care.

“Jokes on you, I cum in my bunny’s mouth, all the way down his pretty throat. He’s the one who likes to get messy”, Terushima shamelessly replies, his response making all of you let out growls of annoyance and slight disgust because of its lewdness.

“Yuuji!”, Tadashi finally intervenes, freckled cheeks tainted in the deepest shades of red as his boyfriend’s choice of words leaves him flustered.

“Was that TMI?”, this time he looks directly at you and without missing a beat, you nod.

“Of fucking course it was, you little piece of-”, “That’s enough, you little fuckers. Let’s just get started with practice already, we’ve got an important gig soon”, Iwaizumi is the one to take the lead; his naturally dominant aura making it way easier for him to handle two personalities as strong as theirs.

“Oh, my Goodness– yes! I just know this time we’re gonna get that producer to listen to our tracks and put us under his label and after that we’re going to get big. I can feel it in my cock”, Oikawa replies, his pretty eyes gleaming with excitement as he talks about his biggest dream.

You can’t help but smile at the way neither of the boys say anything, knowing all of them think- or hope for the exact same thing to happen. After all, they've been working towards this exact dream for literal years now.

And now that they’ve finally gotten such a good opportunity, it’s been a lot more stressful and nerve-wrecking than they had expected it to be. This isn’t the first time said producer’s going to watch the boys perform live, but this performance is going to be their last chance to show him their potential.

You don’t know what’s going on with Kyoutani but you know the other three boys are basically just piles of anxiety and nervousness after months of waiting for this day to come around.

“You’re right, Zumi”, Kyoutani sighs and takes off his heavy leather coat, exposing his toned body to your hungry eyes and without even hesitating, you let your eyes take in the sight of his black shirt basically clinging to his torso.

However, just when he’s about to keep talking, your eyes fall to his right hand and at the sudden sight of his bruised, partly even blood covered knuckles and fingers, you can’t help but let out an audible gasp.

“What?”, Terushima quickly reacts to you, his eyes roaming your face nervously before the other boys, including Kyoutani, turn their heads to look at you.

“Your uhm- your knuckles”, your voice is a mere whisper, the lead singer’s intimidating gaze making your heart pound against your rib cage, “you’re bleeding.”

Kyoutani tilts his head to the side before he lifts his right hand up, obviously not even remembering his little injury as he nods and just shrugs it off.

“What the fuck happened, Kenta?”, Iwaizumi hisses, approaching the younger one with concern-filled eyes before he comes to stand in front of him.

“It’s not a big deal”, said singer just replies, pulls himself out of his best friend’s grip and moves to grab one of the water bottles you had set on a random chair when you arrived, “I got into a fight with my...him. I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

You gulp harshly at his words; instant memories of Kyoutani’s current situation at home flashing up in your mind and easily sending shivers of discomfort down your spine.

He doesn’t talk about it with you, of course he doesn’t. But from what Hajime and Tooru have said, you know that Kyoutani has always been struggling with his family due to several reasons.

You don’t know as much as you’d like to, but you’d rather not dig further into something, especially if the possibility of Kyoutani getting mad at you knowing about his life is potentially high.

“Bro”, Terushima lets out a deep sigh, his pierced brows furrowed in anger and a soft blush grazing the apples of his cheeks as he takes his best friend’s face into his big hands, “you have to move out. Take your mother and the girls and get the fuck out of there or else he’s going to make you kill him.”

You attentively watch the way Kyoutani’s whole body tenses up at the drummer’s words, his hands balled into tight fists and his jaw visibly clenching.

The heavy tension in the air feels suffocating; breathing properly suddenly seems like a whole challenge and with one glance at Yamaguchi, you know you’re not the only one to feel that way.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that when he’s not letting them go, Teru? Every time I tell my mother to pack her and the girls’ fucking bags, he threatens her with some kind of shit and makes her back out of it”, Kyoutani presses through gritted teeth, the volume of his voice steadily growing the more the madness seems to take over him.

“And besides that”, he sighs, “it’s not like we have anywhere to go. Neither of you can take us in and I simply can’t get us a new apartment because I don’t have any money”, and suddenly, you feel your heartbeat picking up its pace with such intensity, you feel it thrumming in your throat.

It takes you a good minute to calm yourself down, the thoughts racing through your mind are easily sending you into a heavy bliss of anxiety and nervousness.

However, before any of the guys can say anything or you get the chance to overthink that one thought in your head, your body acts before your mind can follow.

“You could stay at my place”, you throw into the silence of the big practice room; your voice a lot steadier than you expected it to be, “my sibling just moved out and I have a spare room your mum and sisters could stay in”, you explain with your gaze falling to the floor when the fear of Kyoutani’s reaction overwhelms you.

“What? Are you serious? Don’t you dare fuck with me, Y/N”, he suddenly hisses; his brows furrowing even further and the way he comes closer to you has you gulping harshly.

It’s not even necessarily his choice of words but the general fact he’s even directly talking to you, which has your head spinning from the heaviness of your anxiety.

“Watch your language when you speak to her, Kenta”, Iwaizumi adds, quickly coming to stand next to you, knowing his other best friend has a tendency to let his emotions take over his rational thinking.

“Yes”, you say quickly, finally getting yourself to actually lift your head and meet his strong gaze, only to look away after a solid second because of the intensity of his stare, “I am either at work or campus most of the time and barely have anyone come over, so I don’t really mind having you guys there. And you don’t have to give me any money, either. My parents bought us the apartment before they passed away, so I don’t have to pay for rent anyway.”

Kyoutani listens to your every word, his eyes rapidly roaming your face as you speak before he lets out a loud sigh of relief, followed by his facial features softening in a way you’ve never experienced before.

“That’s uhm- that’s really kind. Thank you, Y/N”, he sighs and when his lips suddenly stretch into a genuine, sweet smile to the point that his dimples appear on each side of his cheeks, you can’t help but look at him in complete shock.

“Of…course”, you smile back awkwardly, pulling at your fingers and trying your best to calm your heart and mind down, “I know how it feels to live in an abusive household, so I’m always happy to help someone escape from one.”

In response to your words, silence fills the room.

And that’s when you realize that, different than usual, you actually mentioned something this significant about yourself to someone other than Iwaizumi.

You feel the anxiety crippling up your spine in the most disgusting way possible; a shaky exhale falling past your lips as your body desperately tries to calm your rushing mind down.

“Anyway”, you suddenly say, nervously scratching your neck while lifting your head to meet Kyoutani’s slightly overwhelmed gaze, “how about you tell your Mum to pack her stuff so we can pick her and the girls up and bring them to my flat? I’ll make sure to make them feel at home, I promise.”

You don’t really know why or how you managed to form all those sentences when Kyoutani Kentarou, the guy you’ve been hopelessly crushing on for years, is standing so close and is actually talking to you. However, you definitely like the warmth spreading in your chest and the pride filling your veins when you think about all those times you oh so desperately wanted to talk to him, but let your anxiety get the best of you.

But, none of that changes the fact that your heart is brutally slamming against your rib cage, thrumming in your ears with such high volume, you struggle to hear your own words properly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? My youngest sister is three years old and the other one just turned five, so I don’t know if you really want to deal with kids after such long days”, Kyoutani mumbles, running his tattooed hand over his freshly dyed buzz cut before he starts playing with the rings on his fingers.

You can’t help but smile at his behavior. The usually so cold and distant Mad Dog, a nickname Oikawa gave him years ago, turning into this sweet, flustered little puppy right in front of you is definitely not something you’ve expected to witness any time soon.

“I like children and they usually like me”, you smile encouragingly, “so yes, I am sure I’m okay with this. Give her a call and tell her we’ll be there after you guys finish practicing. We can grab some food on the way and maybe some snacks for the girls because I only have instant ramen noodles and two bananas in my kitchen right now”, you continue, earning a loud groan of disappointment from your best friend who loves to spend his time scolding you for your awful eating habits.

“Alright then, I’ll do that really quick and – thank you, Y/N. I appreciate this a lot”, Kyoutani gives you one last smile of gratitude before he pulls his phone out of his pocket, quickly sticking a cigarette in between his lips as he exits the practice room to talk to his mother.

And as soon as the pink haired lead singer disappears, you let go of the breath you’ve been holding subconsciously.

“Damn, little one”, Oikawa suddenly says, throwing his arm over your shoulder and casually pinching your chubby cheeks with his slim, ring clad fingers, “you’re finally gonna get a chance to suck his cock just like you’ve been imagining it.”

“Oh, fuck off, Tooru”, you hiss through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes at his words before you push him away from you.

“He’s kinda right, though”, this time it’s Yamaguchi’s soft voice which gently cuts through the silence in the practice room and with your eyebrows raised in utter shock, you turn to face the freckled boy, “don’t get me wrong, I am not saying you’re gonna jump his bones now. But you’re getting to spend some more time with him alone and at some point he won’t have a choice but to talk to you, so the two of you might get closer”, he explains, his words making it even easier for your brain to create a row of fake scenarios and without replying anything, you nod softly.

“Or you just tell him you want him to father your children and boom, case solved.”

At Yuuji’s take on the situation, the whole room grows silent, yet again. Only Tadashi reacts by giving him a soft kiss on the lips before the others continue to get their instruments ready.

“I’ve told you this a couple of times but he doesn’t hate you, I promise”, Iwa continues after a beat of silence had filled the room, “especially not after this, so stop being so fucking shy about it.”

At the persistent tone of his voice, you can’t help but look at Iwaizumi with furrowed brows since he’s never been like this when it came to your not so little crush on his bandmate.

But before you can even question it in any way, the front door is being opened again and you watch the front singer walk back inside.

When Kyoutani returns, a big smile is planted on his face and literal relief gleams in his usually so cold gaze, a sight you definitely could get used to. And for the first time in years, he looks you directly in the eyes and shoots you a wink; his change in demeanor leaving you completely overwhelmed. Yet you can’t help but feel your whole body growing hotter as your head repeats the beautiful image inside of your mind until it becomes the only thing up there.

Usually, practice goes by rather slowly. You enjoy spending time with your best friends and listening to their music; the general atmosphere in the practice room calms you down in a really different way which is why you even crave these kinda evenings after long, exhausting days.

However, this time the three hours of practice seem to fly by because by the time the boys start packing up again, you struggle to remember which songs they played and what they talked about in their short smoking breaks.

You know it’s because your body is still buzzing with anxiety at the thought of Kyoutani and his family staying at your house but for some reason you also can’t stop overthinking what your best friend had told you a couple of hours ago.

Iwaizumi isn’t the type of person to just say something without there being some kind of meaning to it, not even if it’s to calm you down, so now you’ve already come to the point where you can’t seem to stop yourself from reading more into his words than usual.

“Kawa picked you up, right?”, the sudden sound of Kyoutani’s voice filling the rather quiet practice room is the one to pull you out of your thoughts and without properly processing who actually asked you that question, you start nodding.

“Alright”, he adds and pushes his freshly rolled cigarette behind his ear, “then we won’t have to go in separate cars”, Kyoutani locks his phone and pushes it into his pocket before he looks up at you and then searches for a lighter.

You’re quick to hand him the one in the little front pocket of your bag which you carry around in case Iwaizumi or Oikawa happen to have lost theirs again.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence filling the empty space of the alleyway, making it a bit harder for you to maintain your composure and despite the cold weather, you can’t help but appreciate the fresh air filling your lungs.

“Kimiko and Koharu”, Kyoutani suddenly begins and places his cigarette between his plump lips, the names obviously making him smile and you can’t help but look at him with confusion written all over your face.

“The one who just turned five is Kimiko and the three year old’s name is Koharu”, he’s quick to explain it and as you realise that he’s talking about his little sisters, you understand his genuine and soft reaction.

As you watch the way Kyoutani takes a long drag from the deadly stick, you decide not to add anything to his words just yet because it feels like he has a little bit more to tell you about the two girls you’re about to meet.

And just as you expected, he continues to talk once he starts blowing the smoke out with a soft sigh.

“To keep it short: they’re basically like ‘Kawa and Zumi”, he explains to you and this time you can’t stop your lips from stretching into a wide smile at his words.

“Now I need you to elaborate on that, please”, after finally letting yourself calm down a little you manage to make a comment and when Kyoutani chuckles softly, the tension in your muscles finally seems to disappear.

You can hear the boys’ voices from inside the practice room and for a moment you feel the urge to frown because you won’t get to be alone with Kyoutani anymore but his voice quickly pulls your attention back to him.

“They fight and argue a lot because their personalities are so different but they also can’t live without each other”, Kyoutani runs a tattooed hand over his freshly dyed pink buzzcut, his eyes roaming your face attentively as you start nodding at his words with an approving smile on your lips.

You wonder what he thinks of you. There’s a part inside of you which wants to know whether or not he thinks you’re pretty or if he likes your eyes, your smile or your voice. You want to know whether or not he finds you attractive and maybe even sexy, your brain allowing you to ignore the possibility of him not being into bigger girls at all. But it doesn’t take long for you to get back to your usual way of thinking since you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not his type long ago and he probably doesn’t even care about what you look like because you’re not worth his time.

It takes you a good moment to shake off those annoying thoughts and in just that moment, Kyoutani decides to add something else to his explanation.

“They’re good kids. They’re well behaved and don’t really cause any problems or troubles. My Mom’s tried her best to give them what they need and their scumbag of a father treats them okay. He prefers to mentally and...physically abuse me and my Mom, just gets a little louder when they cry too much but that’s it”, Kyoutani’s words are carefully chosen; he takes his time to find the right ones and doesn’t rush himself in order to avoid any misunderstandings and it doesn’t take a psychologist to understand that he’s incredibly hesitant to open up about his family issues.

You can’t and wouldn’t blame him because you’re basically the same when it comes to these difficult topics yet you struggle to hide your reaction because after all this is the very first time he’s ever told you anything about himself.

“I think they’re both gonna like you a lot, but Koharu’s going to love you. She loves spending time with pretty girls and I honestly can’t blame her for that”, is the last thing Kyoutani casually adds and you know it’s to ease the tension in the air but as soon as your brain manages to process his words, you freeze.

You barely manage to react to Terushima’s unnecessary comments as the four boys come to join you two in front of the door and if it wasn’t for Oikawa almost brutally nudging your arm with his elbow, you wouldn’t have moved another inch for God knows how long.

Kyoutani Kentarou, the guy – your crush of several years who was basically unreachable for you up until an hour ago, told you that he considers you pretty or at least sees you as a part of the “pretty girls” and you absolutely hate the way your chest starts blossoming with this very special warmth.

“What’s wrong?”, this time it’s Iwaizumi's deep voice which brings you back to reality and when you lift your head to meet the comfort of his green eyes, you can’t help but let out a loud sigh of frustration.

“Absolutely fucking nothing”, you reply and throw your backpack over one shoulder before rolling your eyes at yourself, “and that’s the fucking problem.”

“You’re stressing me the fuck out, did you know that?”, Iwa shoots back with his eyebrows furrowed in irritation before he follows you to the cars and tells you to text him once you get home only for you to pout at him like a teenager.

Thankfully the ride to pick up Kyoutani’s Mom and sisters is a lot less stressful and nerve wrecking, mostly because you’re accompanied by Terushima and Yamaguchi but you also feel a little less tense and anxious for God knows what reason.

Something about Kentarou’s body language tells you that he seems just as nervous as you and you wonder if it’s because he’s scared of their reactions or if it’s because he’s going to stay in your apartment with them.

Neither one of you has bothered to mention it, but it seems like the only plausible option the whole plan comes with so you’ve been trying your very best to prepare yourself for the upcoming time. Of course there’s also the possibility that one of the boys takes Kyoutani in but you still like to keep your hopes up high.

You’re nervously pulling at your fingers as you calmly inhale the cold air of the night in hopes of making the waiting a little more bearable.

Kyoutani’s still talking to Terushima and Yamaguchi as they finish their cigarettes only to throw them away as soon as they hear the contagious chuckles of one of the two girls currently approaching the car alongside their mother.

You try your very best to stop yourself from staring but as you watch the girls pick up their pace just to jump into their older brother’s arms, you find yourself mesmerized by the heartwarming scenario in front of you.

It’s not difficult for you to tell the girls apart despite their similar facial features. They not only share the same hair color and style but their big smiles are almost identical and as you let your eyes roam their soft faces, you spot the little dimples on each of their chubby cheeks, the little detail basically emphasizing the family resemblance even more.

It takes the girls a good minute to shift their attention away from their older brother but as soon as their eyes meet yours, you can’t help but smile.

Yet, before you can actually greet them, you notice someone in the corner of your eye and without hesitation, you turn to face Kyoutani’s mother with a polite smile.

“Good evening, Ma’am”, you begin calmly, lifting your hand before you bow slightly, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

You feel your heartbeat fastening as you try your best to stop yourself from staring at her but there’s just something that makes this incredibly difficult, yet you can’t seem to point out what it actually is.

Her dark hair is put in a bun, a few strands falling into her rather young looking face and the second your eyes meet hers, you feel a sense of comfort and safety surround you like a capsule.

“The pleasure is mine, my Love”, she replies calmly before placing her delicate hands over yours, making the warmth of her skin meet yours, “thank you so much for this. You have absolutely no idea how much we needed this. I don’t know what Tani has told you already, but it’s been really bad lately and I know this is gonna do wonders for the girls.”

Her voice is soft, slightly hoarse yet oh so comforting and as you watch her speak, you can’t help but smile at her mentioning her nickname for the lead singer.

“I’m happy to be some kind of help, really. If he told me a little sooner, I would have made this offer a long time ago since I wasn’t gonna look for a roommate anyway”, you explain thoughtfully, genuinely enjoying the way Kyoutani’s mother is still holding onto your hands oh so dearly before she lets go and pushes a dark, curly strand behind her ear.

“You’ve got such a kind heart, I can tell by the way you’re looking at me. I hope your partner knows how lucky they are”, she breaks into a soft chuckle and at the mention of a lover, you can’t help but get flustered before joining her.

“I don’t have a partner”, you add quickly and shift your gaze to the floor, “but my boys appreciate me a lot so there’s no lack of that!”

Kyoutani’s mother smiles at your words, her gentle eyes slowly shift to the tall figure of her son who’s currently trying his best to balance both of his sisters on his back.

You wonder what she’s thinking about because there obviously seems to be something that’s occupying her mind yet you don’t find it in you to ask her about it just yet.

And you don’t even get another moment with her as loud cheers start ringing in your ears before you watch the way Terushima walks up to his best friend’s Mother and pulls her into a tight hug after bowing to her.

After about an hour, you find yourself cleaning up the kitchen while Kyoutani and his family get started with unpacking their things and although it’s been quite fun with the girls, you still feel this certain kind of tension lingering in your muscles.

It’s never been just you and Kentarou for longer than five minutes and now you’ve spent the last two hours casually talking to him, his sisters and his mother.

You lose yourself in your rather nerve wrecking train of thoughts and if it wasn’t for the sound of a door opening, you would have gone even deeper.

By the heavy steps and the sounds of dangling chains, followed by the familiar scent of cigarettes and vanilla you don’t even have to lift your head and finally meet the rather calming gaze of your new flatmate.

“The girls fell asleep and my mum’s in the shower”, Kyoutani whispers, the soft expression in his usually so tense and strict features suddenly making him look a lot younger than he is and you can’t help but love this side of him.

“Did you tell her about the towels I hung up for her and the girls?”

You try your best to stay calm and composed but just feeling his strong eyes roaming your body makes you nervous and all of a sudden you regret changing into your pajamas before making sure that everyone’s asleep.

In your defense: you genuinely didn’t expect to talk to any of them before heading to sleep which is why you’re now dressed in some random shorts and a really old shirt that barely leaves anything to anyone’s imagination.

And on top of it all, a wave of anxious thoughts about your body, your big thighs, your tummy and your big arms makes this whole situation a lot more difficult than it already is.

Kyoutani obviously notices the way you’re losing yourself in your train of thoughts, which is why he doesn’t hesitate much with his response.

“Mhm, I did”, he says and finally manages to make you look up at him again, “she probably hasn’t had a hot shower in weeks so I told her to take the time she needs, I hope that’s okay.”

Right before you properly process his words, you start nodding, just to stop mid-action when you realize what he had just told you.

“Wait…what do you mean she hasn't had a hot shower in weeks?”

A beat of complete silence follows your words and that’s how you know that this is one of those rather difficult topics for him.

To your surprise, Kentarou comes to sit down at the counter, nervously playing with the many rings on his fingers as he tries to find the right words.

“Her menace of a fucking husband doesn’t have a job so they can’t always pay the water and electric bills…Most of the time my money’s only enough for the rent and some groceries, so she’s been heating up water for the girls and opt to cold water for her own showers.”, Kyou’s tone shifts from angry to sad as soon as he stops talking about his mother’s partner and if it wasn’t for the weeks you’ve spent watching him and analyzing his body language, you wouldn't have noticed the way he started pulling on his fingers to calm himself down.

“My mother used to do that for us, too”, you say before you get a chance to overthink your words and you can’t help but tense up at the thought of opening up to Kentarou, someone you know but don’t actually know.

“And of course that’s absolutely okay. I want her to feel as comfortable and safe as possible; this is their home now, too”, to shift the attention away from your little slip into your own childhood, you try to wrap it up by responding to his previous question.

“Miko and Haru already love it so much, they don’t even mind sharing a bed for now”, Kyoutani continues and lets out a soft chuckle, his big hand reaches for one of the little water bottles on the counter and you can’t help but smile when you realize that he’s slowly getting more comfortable in your presence.

“Haru asked if she could sleep in my bed but your Mother intervened”, the memory of your conversation with the three year old has you smiling even bigger before you lift your head to look at him; your heart skipping a beat the moment your gazes meet, “I wouldn’t have minded that at all, though. She’s adorable and absolutely hilarious.”

And before you could even finish your little comment, Kyoutani Kenatrou throws his head back and lets out a genuine row of laughter, his reaction easily overwhelming you since you’ve literally never heard him laugh like this before. Not even with his boys.

You subconsciously start enjoying a sound so special and dear echoing through the silence of the night and you don’t even think about forgetting it ever again.

“She’s so unnecessarily funny for a three year old”, he says and rubs his chin, his eyes so much softer and calmer ever since you’ve arrived at your apartment and you can’t deny how much you like this new version of him.

“Anyway, I should get going, now that everyone’s safe and sound”, Kyoutani gets up from the chair and reaches for his jacket, doesn’t even give you enough time to register his words.

“What?”, you blurt out and look at him with confusion gleaming in your eyes, not even realising how loud your voice is.

“Huh? What do you mean? I’m leaving to stay at Teru’s”, Kyoutani explains and looks at you, adjusting his leather jacket and barely holding back his little smile in response to your outburst.

“Oh”, you sigh softly and try your very best to find the right words but you can’t avert your gaze from his strong body; basically devouring the poor guy alive and for a moment you lose absolute track, only to be pulled back into reality by the sound of Kentarou’s voice.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl”, his words hit you like a truck and if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re seated already, you would have lost your balance, “what was that ‘oh’ about, hm?”

“I – uhm – I wasn’t expecting you to leave”, you reply and try to maintain the last bit of your composure but the longer you look into his hungry eyes, the weaker your knees become and for a moment you feel yourself fall even deeper into the haze of your arousal.

Kentarou seems to enjoy your reaction to his choice of words and you hate how every bit of your body wants to give yourself to him, when this is probably just his casual way of talking to people he feels comfortable around.

“Really? You’d be okay with me staying here?”

Without even missing a beat, you start nodding.

It feels like your body is running on autopilot because of the sudden change of the tension between you two.

“Yes”, you say with a little more confidence, “I’m sure your mother would much rather have you here with us, too.”

Of course you’re not going to tell him about how you're absolutely desperate to spend even more one-on-one time with him; not any time soon, at least.

“My mother, huh?”, Kyoutani smirks and takes his jacket off again, making your heart skip a beat.

All you can do is nod. Your throat has already dried up and you feel like you’re going to pass out from the sudden heat overwhelming your body. You try your very best to keep your reactions down, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt and avoiding his gaze like he’s going to turn you into stone if you looked at him.

“Hey, what happened with you and your little puppy boy?”, Kentarou asks, his voice is a little less amused and there seems to be a sudden shift in his expression which you can’t exactly pinpoint.

It takes you a whole minute to understand who he’s talking about and as soon as you realise, you roll your eyes in annoyance. Not because of him, but because of the “puppy boy” in question.

“We broke up”, you begin and get up to get yourself and him something to drink, but mostly to hide from his strong gaze, “everything was going well at first but then he got all weird and kept doing and saying things which made me super uncomfortable. Whenever I tried to talk to him about it, he got unnecessarily defensive instead of respecting my boundaries, so I called things off.”

You let out a loud sigh at the memory of your ex-boyfriend, just the thought of him never failing to exhaust you.

“What kind of things are we talking about?”, Kentarou replies calmly, thanking you for the cup as he watches you turn on the kettle.

“Only if you’re comfortable answering that of course”, he quickly adds and makes you smile just like that, yet again.

“At first, my weight was never a topic in our conversations”, you say and feel a wave of disappointment hit you, “but the longer we were together, the more he started mentioning it. But…not in the way you might think. He didn’t tell me to lose weight or fat shamed me, he actually did quite the opposite but in the most uncomfortable way possible.”

There’s a beat of silence once you finish your sentence, your focus falling to the way Kyoutani is playing with his rings as you wait for the water to boil.

“This is gonna be quite TMI and I actually can’t believe I’m telling you this, of all people, but I’ve got nothing to lose so why not”, you warn him and fill up his cup before you do the same with your own and then come back to sit right across from him.

A weird kind of comfort fills your chest; something you haven’t felt with anyone in quite a while and you've never expected Kyoutani to be the reason for this.

“I’ll be okay, go ahead, pretty one”, his response is cool and calm, yet pushes you to the edge of your seat and you hate how much his words affect you.

“He wasn’t the best with words – at all. However, his dirty talk was absolutely horrific”, you cringe at the memory of all those nights you had to listen to your past lover say things you would have never expected to hear from anyone with an ounce of decency, “he always included my weight and when we first started dating, i thought he was worshipping or like – appreciating me, but boy was I wrong.”

Kyoutani looks at you with furrowed brows and you can tell from his body language how he’s slowly beginning to despise someone he has met exactly once before in his life.

And for some reason, you like his reactions, but then again, you’re head over heels in love with him so that’s not surprising you in the slightest.

“Long story short, I dumped him after he kept calling me his…fat bitch while we were having sex”, you come straight to the point, not wanting to do this to yourself and Kyoutani any longer.

And once those words pass your lips, the lead singer’s jaw literally drops.

You try to play it cool to hide your embarrassment, taking a little sip from your tea and looking up at him through your lashes.

“Please, tell me he at least made you cum”, Kentarou suddenly whisper-growls, his dark eyes roaming your features attentively and taking in the way you gulp harshly in response to his intimate question.

“No”, you simply reply and shrug, “I didn’t get intimate with him that much, so he didn’t have that many chances but the ones he had, he actually missed.”

Kyoutani seems shocked, to say the least.

His eyes are focusing you as he tries to wrap his around the loser of a man you used to date.

“I’m glad you dumped his fucking ass”, is the first thing he says after his initial, wordless reaction, “you deserve so much better.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that”, you chuckle and scratch your neck, “I think I’m gonna take a break from seeing anyone. Being a fetish or the wannabe “success” story of people is quite draining so I’ve decided to just drop it, you know?”, you explain to him, your eyes softly meeting his gaze before they drop to his mouth and you feel your body literally aching for his soft lips on your skin, something you can only ever dream of.

Kyoutani wants to say something, anything. There are so many things on his mind, yet he falls completely silent in front of you.

But how is he supposed to tell you how he’s what you deserve? How could he possibly explain to you that he’s wanted you to be with him since the very first time he’s laid his eyes on you?

He’s not even brave enough to show any kind of interest in you with his boys, his literal brothers, around. Where is he supposed to find the balls to tell you all of the things he’s thinking?

If you only knew how much he liked you, how much he wanted to be everything those guys failed to be – in every aspect possible.

“Oh, Goodness”, you suddenly say and pull Kentarou back into reality, far away from all of his thoughts and unsaid words, “it’s so late already and I’m rambling like a teenager to you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry about that, Y/N”, Kyoutani suddenly says and manages to smile up at you, “I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to talk to me like this. And thank you for answering my question so honestly”, he continues, yet never once looks away from your face until he watches the way you get up.

He can’t help but let his gaze roam over your curves, the thick flesh of your thighs and the way your shirt is hugging every part of your body just right never fails to leave him lightheaded. A sight he’s always had to admire from afar up until today. He could be less obvious about it, but he’s had to hide it for so long already, at this point he’s just tired.

“Thank you, Kyoutani”, you say and smile at him, “I’ll go get you a blanket and a pillow so you can get comfortable on the couch. I also don’t mind sleeping here if you wanna have some privacy.” All of a sudden, you feel way more nervous than just a few minutes ago and you hate how the feeling of his eyes on your body leaves you completely lightheaded. You’re surprised you’ve even managed to form a proper sentence, let alone offer your room to him.

“The couch is perfect”, Kyoutani says and gets up, coming to stand right in front of you – a lot closer than you could have ever imagined him to be.

“I know I’ve always been quite cold to you, pretty girl”, he suddenly whispers and gently caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers, knocking every bit of air out of your lungs almost brutally, “but I actually enjoy your company a lot. My distance is just a self defense mechanism.”

His sudden explanation leaves you confused and absolutely overwhelmed but does not fail to reassure you just the way you’ve been craving it.

“I – what do you – really?” You’re stumbling over your words like a toddler, your brain just struggling to process whatever is going on and still you manage to feel hope fill the emptiness in your chest after dreaming of moments like this for so long.

“Iwaizumi told me about your worries and how you think I hate you”, Kyoutani calmly continues, reaching for your wrist before he places your hand on his own cheek, “I’ve never hated you. How could I when you’ve been nothing but kind and understanding?”

You’re…shocked.

At least, that’s the only way for you to explain the way his words leave you completely overwhelmed.

Never in a million years did you expect something like this to happen between the two of you; every single one of your daydreams is currently a lot closer to reality than you would have ever dared to imagine and you simply don’t know how to handle it.

“And I promise you, I’m not saying these things because you’re giving me and my family such an amazing opportunity. I’m telling you these things because for the first time I feel…brave enough.”

Kyoutani seems to choose his words carefully, rethinks and reassigns them as he speaks to eliminate any sort of misunderstanding.

You’ve never seen him like this; so hesitant and calm, nervous even. And although it definitely surprises you, you have absolutely no idea what to expect so all you can do is wait for what you’re about to hear next on the other side.

“Say something, Baby”, he suddenly says, his voice is a lot raspier than just a second ago and the way his hot breath fans your skin sends goosebumps over your whole body, “I don’t care what you say, just something – anything.”

“My head is – I’m – I don’t know”, you whisper and subconsciously reach for the fabric of his shirt, gripping it a little tighter than intended, but also not realising how you’ve been pulling him even closer to yourself until you look up at him with needy eyes.

“Fuck, you’re cute”, Kyou replies and closes his eyes, smiling softly before he gently nudges your nose with his, “and so fucking pretty, too. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Please, don’t do this”, you gulp harshly and wait for him to look at you before you continue, “if you’re going to b-break my heart, I can’t – I can’t take it, Kentarou”, you’re aware just how desperate you sound, but the fear of having your dreams destroyed is just too big to consider your pride right now.

“No, no, no. Baby…I’ve wanted this for so long.”

The tension between the two of you is thick and heavy, enough to almost literally cut it in half and for a short moment, you feel your breath hitching in your throat as you struggle to gasp for air.

Your thoughts are rushing through your mind at the highest speed possible, your heart basically hammering against your rib cage and your panties slowly turning into a mess with every single one of his words.

“I’ve never had towels as soft as these! Might wanna show me where you’ve got these from so I can – oh, Goodness! I’m so sorry”, Kyoutani’s mother suddenly exclaims and her sudden appearance manages to have the two of you take two big steps away from each other, leaving some much needed distance inbetween and you feel the tiniest bit of embarrassment washing over your body as you look away from the sweet woman’s face.

“I didn’t mean to walk in on you like this, pardon my manners, my sweet Y/N”, she says and looks at you with apologetic eyes, not even caring a bit about her flustered mess of a son right next to you.

“No, no, it’s okay, Ma’am”, you reply quickly and scratch the back of your neck before you reach for your phone and finally dare to look at Kyoutani, “it’s no problem.”

“You know what? I’m just gonna go back to the room and head to sleep. Goodnight, sweet loves.”, is everything she says and basically speed runs into her shared bedroom with the girls, probably more than just aware of the awkwardness she’s put you in.

“She’s always had amazing timing”, Kyoutani mumbles and rubs his forehead before he scratches the back of his head and looks up at you.

“Did you see how she literally ran away?”, you chuckle and throw your head back, finally getting rid of some of the tension in your bones, especially once Kentarou calmly joins in on your amusement.

“How about we talk about this tomorrow morning, hm? Today was a big day for everyone so I think it's best if we call it a night for now”, all of a sudden you seem a lot more confident than just a few minutes earlier and you have absolutely no idea how to feel about it.

“You’re right, yeah”, is all Kyoutani says before he gets up again and takes another sip from his tea, yet doesn’t leave right away.

“Thank you for everything, pretty girl”, he mumbles and smiles softly, his eyes attentively roaming your features, “sweet dreams.”

Maybe it’s because of the exhaustion rushing through your veins or maybe because everything that has happened in the past few minutes has felt nothing but surreal, but if it wasn’t for the feeling of actual shivers running down your back, you probably wouldn’t have registered the feeling of Kentarou’s soft lips placing the softest kiss on your forehead.

By the time you find yourself lying in the comfort of your bedsheets, your heart is still brutally slamming against your ribcage and you have absolutely no idea how you’re supposed to sleep after a day like this one.

You try your very best to think of something – anything else, but Kyoutani Kentarou and his pretty face and his strong hands and how they might feel roaming your whole body in ways you’ve been craving it oh so badly, yet you seem to lose every single time to those exact thoughts.

The responsible part of your brain is already losing every bit of its patience, since sleep does not seem to be an option at all, despite the busy day you’ve got ahead, whereas your body has been enjoying all the little shivers and rushes of excitement you’ve been dealing with the past hour.

After a while, however, you simply can’t help yourself anymore. Your brain is basically stuffed with lewd images of Kyoutani touching you just how you like it and you’re way too tired to give it another thought.

The urge to just reach for your cute little toy and make yourself cum a couple of times to shut your brain out has your fingertips tingling in the best way possible, yet the possibility of someone hearing your silent noises of pleasure easily balances it out.

“Fucking…Kyoutani”, you mumble to yourself and let out a sigh of frustration, unable to control yourself any longer.

The decision might not be your best, but it’s definitely the one you prefer over staying up all night and basically torturing yourself in another way.

At this point, the way your hand finds its way into your panties is almost mechanical. Endless nights spent by yourself, taking care of your needs and your arousal in ways no man has ever managed to do.

You’re quick to bury your face in your pillow to muffle the desperate whimper you let out as soon as your fingers find your needy clit; the little bundle of nerves already swollen and way too sensitive from how worked up you’ve been all day.

As the memories of Kyoutani’s scent and the feeling of his soft lips on your skin fill your head, you start drawing firm circles into your clit, sighing every single time the motion sends a sweet sensation through your veins as you get closer and closer to your relief.

Maybe it’s the way arousal has already clouded your brain in the best way possible or maybe it’s the fact that you’re too close to pay attention to your surroundings but the second your door slowly opens, your heart basically drops to the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N?”, Kyoutani’s soft voice fills the empty space of your room in an instant and you can’t help but whimper as you quickly pull your hand out of your drenched panties, hoping he’s not aware what you’re up to.

“Yes–”, your response comes exactly a heartbeat later and you hate how tiny your voice is.

“Can I come in?”

Kentarou seems hesitant yet determined and something in the way his pretty eyes are hooked and way darker than an hour ago has your cunt clenching like crazy.

As soon as you start nodding, Kyoutani walks past your doorstep, closing and locking the door behind him, something you should have done, before he comes to stand next to you. His eyes are roaming your body, basically devouring you alive and leaving you breathless.

Nobody has ever looked at you like this.

And the fact it’s Kyoutani kentarou, of all people, just pushes you even closer to the limits of your sanity.

“Why didn’t you ask me?”, he whispers and kneels down next to your bed to be on eye level with you, making the whole situation a tad bit less awkward and as soon as you look at him, you feel your body loosening up.

“What..are you talking about, Kyoutani?”, you try your very best to stay composed but everything is overwhelming you right now and you have absolutely no idea what to think or how to feel.

“Why did you go and touch yourself when you could have just asked me instead?”

And with this one he finally manages to leave you completely speechless.

You stare at him with big eyes and your mouth open, your cunt reacting before the rest of your body has a chance and you hate yourself for being so weak in front of him.

“I don’t know what you’re–”, “Don’t lie to me, Baby”, he’s quick to interrupt you, gets on his feet again and wordlessly asks you to sit up as he reaches for your arm, “I’ve been watching you for so long, I know exactly how your body reacts when you’re getting needy. The sound of your voice changes and then your eyes…those God damn eyes of yours are the only reason for my sleepless nights.”

You’re listening to every single word he says without averting your gaze from his perfect face even once and with every single word your cunt starts clenching even harder.

Of course his sudden interest is surprising to you but you can’t hide just how much you enjoy it and if it wasn’t for the way he was gently caressing your arm, you would have thought of this as a dream.

“Do you really think, I don’t notice the way you press your thighs together whenever you stare at me for a little too long, hm?”

You know he’s teasing you, you know he’s enjoying the way you’re squirming underneath his strong gaze and you know – he won’t stop any time soon, yet as soon as your brain has processed his words, you let out the softest whimper.

“Now, now, cat got your tongue, Baby?” A soft chuckle follows his words and you feel your chest warming up at the sound, easily ignoring the situation you’re in.

You just can’t seem to focus, your brain finally shutting down, only for your body to take over and you are not quite sure if you like it as much as you expected to.

“Kenta…”, you finally manage to whisper, his first name feeling foreign on your tongue as you’ve gotten so used to being as formal with him as possible.

You’re hesitant, your voice is still tiny and a lot hoarser than just a few minutes ago, yet as soon as Kyoutani throws his head back with a moan that’s way too loud for this time of the night, you finally feel yourself letting go of every worry and doubt.

“There you go, that’s my good girl”, he’s quick to praise you for basically nothing, probably more than aware just how worked up he’s getting you.

“Tell me what you want, Baby. I promise I’m gonna do whatever it is. This is all about you.”

His offer sounds dreamy; something you’ve never heard before, something you’ve only had the courage to daydream about because asking for anything in your previous relationships felt uncomfortable.

You don’t even know why. Your ex boyfriends weren’t the best nor the worst lovers and now that you think back to it, you could have easily asked for what you want but your lack of self confidence made it difficult for you to think of yourself.

“Are you sure?”, you whisper, a wave of uncertainty hitting you the moment you think about your physical appearance. You subconsciously start pulling down your oversized shirt, trying your best to hide your big thighs and arms, way too scared of Kyoutani being disgusted by the sight of you.

“Stop that”, Kenta’s voice cuts through the tension in the air like a sharp knife and you can’t help but gasp, “of course I’m sure, Baby.”

A beat of silence follows his interruption before he places two of his tattoo clad fingers underneath your chin to push your head up and finally meet your gaze.

“I’ve wanted this – you for so long and I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. You’re perfect to me and I’m determined to show you. However, I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to. We can just kiss, cuddle or sleep next to each other. For fuck’s sake, we can just hold hands all night if that’s what you want. I want to…give you everything those little Losers couldn’t and I’m willing to wait for as long as you want me to. Got it, pretty girl?”

His words of reassurance leave you…flabbergasted.

There’s absolutely no other word to describe the way his sweet little speech has made you feel and after years of wishing for something like this – someone like him, you can’t help but get high on the addictive feeling of being wanted and desired.

“I want you, Kenta”, you reply softly, reaching for his face and gently placing your hand on his cheek, “I need you.”

And that’s exactly what he’s been waiting for.

Without missing another beat, he pushes your blanket away, revealing your pretty legs to his hungry eyes, a soft grunt escaping his throat the moment he realises you’ve gotten rid of your shorts from earlier.

“You’re so fucking hot”, he whispers and takes in the sight of your body, “please tell me what you want me to do to you or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Kyoutani reaches for your inner thighs, pushing his hand in between your legs and gently groping the soft flesh, kneading it and never once looking away from your face to make sure he can watch the way you melt for him even further.

“I want you to eat me out, Kenta”, this time you sound nothing but needy, something he’s wanted to hear for as long as he’s known you, “I want you to be the first one to make me cum like that.”

Kyoutani’s eyes physically perk up at your request and just when you’re about to regret what you said, he starts nodding as if it took him a good minute to process your words and yet again you find yourself surprised at his intense reaction to…you.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and sit on my face, hm? I’ve been thinking about this for God knows how long”, he confesses right after gently asking you for something you never thought you’d ever get asked in your lifetime.

Which is probably why you stare at him with big, almost fearful eyes.

“No, you’re not too big and to be honest I absolutely don’t give a fuck about it anyway, I just want you to cum all over my face”, he’s quick to reassure you yet again and this time you finally push yourself to just stop worrying and nod in response to his sweet words.

Kenta’s pretty lips stretch into the sweetest smile, deep dimples appearing on each side and you feel yourself falling for him all over again.

“I’m gonna take my shirt off, okay? If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to do it, Baby, I just want to make you feel good.” As he speaks, his hands find the hem of his shirt before he pulls it over his head and finally reveals his toned, tattoo covered torso to your needy eyes.

“Please”, is the only thing you can get out before you sit up on your knees and place both of your hands flat against his strong chest, gulping harshly at the feeling of his rapid heartbeat underneath your palm.

“Open your mouth, angel”, he whispers after waiting a few seconds to give you your time, “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You have absolutely no idea what he wants to do, your head spinning way too fast from all the arousal and adrenaline rushing through your veins, yet your body reacts to his words before you can realise it.

Kyoutani nods appreciatively as you part your soft lips and look at him with curious eyes, knocking the breath out of his lungs with just one single stare.

And as you try your best not to whimper when he pushes his hand into your panties, easily finding your cute little clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, Kyoutani puckers his lips and lets a thick drop of his spit fall onto the back of your tongue.

The feeling of his saliva slowly coating the hot muscle in your mouth has your cunt clenching even harder and you can’t help but thrust your hips into his grip even further.

“Look at how needy my little princess is”, Kyoutani teases and runs his strong fingers up and down your drenched slit, “you’ve made a mess of your panties, Baby. What a good girl you are.”

All you can do is listen and nod, your mouth still wide open, his spit sits on your tongue as your body waits for any sort of command from the lead singer in front of you.

“Swallow.”

With the word falling past his lips, Kyou wraps his hand around your throat and growls as soon as he feels the way you swallow every bit of his spit just like that.

Before you can think another thought, he pulls you into a needy kiss, pushing you even deeper into the haze of your arousal as he pushes his tongue into your mouth and gives you exactly what you’ve been craving for so, so long

You shamelessly moan into his mouth, barely able to keep up with his fast pace from how much your head is spinning yet with every single kiss you feel your body getting hotter.

“That’s my good girl. Now, if you keep doing so well for me, I’m gonna give you my cock, too. You want that, don’t you?”, Kyoutani nods along with you, his soft lips pouting slightly as he takes a step back and looks at you.

The two of you switch places, whereas you struggle to stay still from how bad your legs are already shaking as you take off your ruined panties, but as soon as Kentarou places his head on your soft pillow, you crawl back onto the bed, loving the way his hand never once stops touching any part of your body.

After taking another breath of courage, you sit yourself up and finally spread your legs over his perfect face, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you once you realise just how wet you are.

“Look at this perfect cunt”, but with just a few words, Kyoutani wipes away all your doubts.

"Fuck", you whimper as soon as Kenta’s hot breath meets your hot flesh, his face so incredibly close to your cunt, it you simply can’t help but whimper.

“Look at my sweet, sweet girl", he whispers and slowly collects your arousal ok his pretty fingers before he pushes them into his mouth with his powerful gaze focused on your face, “mhm..just as sweet as I thought", he adds with a little smile.

Your fingers instantly wrap around the headboard of your bed the second his digits find your sensitive clit. Kyoutani doesn't even give you the time to get used to the feeling of his fingers against your flesh as he licks a long stripe over your drenched pussy. You throw your head back almost brutally, your hips moving against his skilled tongue the second he starts thrusting the muscle inside of your sensitive hole.

Kyoutani eats you out like a man starved, loud slurping noises, deep grunts and heavy moans as well as your high pitched whines and the pathetic attempts of saying his name being the only noises to fill the silence of your room.

Your hips seem to have a life of their own as they grind against his mouth in hopes of reaching your oh so desperately needed high. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, your orgasm so close you can literally taste it on the tip of your tongue and when he decides to insert two of his strong fingers, you know you're going to stumble over the edge head first.

Your cunt starts spasming around his digits every time Kenta grunts against you. As your moans get louder, your whimpers a lot needier and the grip on the headboard tighter, you slap a hand of yours over your mouth to muffle your noises.

You look down between your legs, his beautiful eyes focused on you and just as your lids are about to flutter shut, Kyoutani lifts your hips away from his mouth, leaving you high and dry just like that.

A loud whimper leaves your lips, your heart thrumming in your throat with your cunt clenching around nothing, the sudden ache in combination with the frustration literally sending tears into your eyes.

You press your thighs together with quiet sobs, "w-why?", you ask him with your voice dripping in arousal and just as you're about to bury your face in your arm to silence yourself, Kenta grabs your waist again, and pulls you onto his naked lap, his hard erection laying flat against his toned stomach; precum already staining the tanned skin of his stomach.

“I'm sorry, Baby", Kyoutani says and caresses your sides softly, "I need to be inside of you, pretty girl", he whispers and gently moves your hips to rub your cunt against his sensitive tip.

As soon as you feel his pulsing cock against your sensitive flesh, you bury your face in his neck and try your best to muffle your high pitched moans.

It’s then that Kyoutani sits up with you in his arms before he takes your face into his big hands and finally pulls you into a needy kiss before he places a soft one on your forehead and then pushes you on the other side of your bed.

“Gotta make sure you stay quiet, Baby”, he whispers right into your ear and moving his hips in between your spread legs and gently slapping his cock against your cunt. You can tell how much he’s holding himself back from the thin layer of sweat covering his skin and his strong grip on your waist.

Your brain is so clouded by your arousal, you barely register his words, only remembering that he had said something when he suddenly pulls away and comes to sit on his knees with his pretty fingers firmly wrapped around his cock.

“You’re – big”, you whisper and stare up at him, subconsciously pushing your shirt up and groping your tits as the arousal completely overwhelms you. With anybody else, you would have never done something so lewd and brave but with Kentarou, everything just feels natural.

“I know, Baby”, he responds and teases your sopping wet hole with his leaking tip, looking up at you with flushed cheeks and needy eyes, “I haven’t been with anybody in months, I promise. Please tell me you’re on the pill.”

“Yes, yes, I am – please just fuck me already”, your words are basically slurred and rushed, not an ounce of composure left as you look at him.

Kyoutani is quick to spit on your drenched cunt, his hot saliva slowly dripping down your folds before he aligns himself up with your clenching hole, yet only pushes the tip in.

“Kenta”, you start whining way too loud, not even realising and caring even less, just wanting to feel what you’ve been dreaming about for literal years.

Kyoutani however just takes a deep breath, obviously trying his very best to calm himself down and not just ram the whole of his length inside of you because he knows how careful he has to be.

It doesn’t take him too long to regain his composure and place his big hand over your mouth after bending down to be as close to your face as possible.

“Look at, princess”, he whispers and gives you another forehead kiss, slowly pushing his cock a tad bit deeper inside of you and without even realising, your eyes roll into the back of your head, “come on, Baby, look at your boy, hm? Be good for me, look in my eyes when you take my cock.”

How could you ever deny him a request as sweet as this one?

Without missing another beat, your gaze meets his and just when you’re about to whimper from how soft the moment feels, Kyoutani thrusts his hips in just the right way, pushing almost his whole length into your sensitive cunt.

No matter how good you’ve made yourself feel before this, nothing comes even close to the feeling of his tip grazing your sensitive walls, leaving a trail of precum inside of you and pushing you closer to the edge every time he twitches in response to your body’s reactions.

A row of muffled moans and grunts fills the silence in your room and you both try to take in the overwhelming feeling of being as close as never before, something you would have never imagined to become reality, which is probably why you feel yourself growing slightly lightheaded.

“Good girl”, Kyoutani growls softly, bottoming out inside of you and letting out a guttural moan at the feeling of his tip grazing the entrance to your womb.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight", he hisses through gritted teeth, giving you the time to adjust to his impressive size, your breaths hitching in your throat because of the amount of pleasure rushing through your veins.

“That’s my good little slut, you’re taking my cock so well, Baby. I’m so proud of you”, Kyoutani mumbles against your cheeks before he starts slowly moving his hips.

“More, Kenta, I want – ngh, fuck – need more", you whine and scratch your nails over the skin of his broad back when his movements start picking up pace.

His long and sensually slow strokes against the sensitive walls of your cunt give you a hard time focusing on anything else but him and his cock.

Kyou hums in satisfaction at your words, his thrusts even deeper than just a second prior and the way he pulls all the way out only to thrust into you with full force leaves you dizzy.

Your mouth falls open as his harsh pounding elicits loud (yet still muffled) whimpers from you with every single thrust and at this point, you’re way too far gone to realise how loud you’re being.

Kyou fucks you just how you needed it: edging you multiple times as he brings you close to your orgasm, only to pull away when you're about to let go.

Your cunt firmly clenched around his thick cock like a god damn vice, your whole body on fire with sweat dripping down your temples and your own drool coating your chin because of your inability to close your mouth.

"P-Please, Kenta", you whimper with a tiny voice the second he lifts his hand from your mouth,the taste of your orgasm coating your tongue because of how close you are.

“You've been so good for me, Baby, so fucking good. Cum for me, show me how good I can make you feel", he orders and with the words leaving his beautiful lips, you finally stumble over the edge head first.

Waves of pleasure overwhelm your whole body, your sight turning blurry for a solid second as the intensity of your orgasm has you choking on your own breath.

You feel Kyou’s hungry gazes on you as he helps you ride out your orgasm. You take a deep breath after finally calming down again, your fingers finding his cheek before you look him in the eyes. A choked out moan leaves his lips before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering as you apply pressure,

"Fuck, I’m cumming", Kyoutani whispers, his voice is strained because of his heavy breathing and you can tell by his sloppy thrusts and soft whines he's about to reach his high.

“Do it, Kenta, need you to fill me up", you whisper into his open mouth, your lips connecting as you start swallowing his beautiful noises and with one last thrust, Kyou’s whole body tenses up before he cums inside of you, painting your cunt in the prettiest shades of white with the thick spurts.

Kyoutani throws his head back with a sharp inhale once he’s pulled out before his gaze shifts back between your legs and attentively observes the way his orgasm dribbles out of your tight cunt with his eyes gleaming in excitement.

You have absolutely no idea when or how you fall asleep, convinced Kyoutani has fucked you into the deepest sleep you’ve ever experienced. What you do know is the fact that Kyoutani was calmly sleeping next to you, just to wake up to him being long gone.

You try not to worry too much about it, knowing how busy he is at the moment and calming yourself down with a shower and some fresh clothes.

“Good morning, Ma’am”, you say and wave at the girls before you turn to their mother, smiling gently at her as you hope she slept through everything that had happened last night.

“Good morning, sweetness”, she smiles back and hands you a cup of coffee, “Tani’s left already. He told me he’s going to stay at Yuuji’s tonight so we won’t have to wait for him, I thought I’d let you know.”

And as she continues with her breakfast, you feel your heart sink into your stomach in the worst way possible when you manage to process her words.

“he is too,” you argue, furrowing your brows as you huff, “he’s probably one of the few men i’ve seen who make a man bun work. and i know he’s ripped under that sweater, he has to be. i saw him leave the gym the other day, and his arms were huge.”

“he’s probably just trying to get bitches,” shoko snorts, “i bet he’s a virgin.”

“shut up,” you laugh, and for a moment, your mind wanders to your stupidly handsome TA. 

you shouldn’t be thinking about him this way—fantasizing about anyone who grades your papers is a line you shouldn't really cross, but you can’t help it. your thoughts turn into what hearing his smooth, deep voice would be like if he moaned into your ear, or what his bangs would look like stuck to his sweaty forehead, or what his abs would look like clenching as he cums, or how breathless he’d sound as he whispers your name—

“wait, i just had an idea,” shoko interrupts your thinking with a gasp, making you shake out of your (very dirty) thoughts as you blink.

you clear your throat, trying your best not to sound flustered as you speak. “i’m scared to ask what the idea is—you’re not really known for having good ones,” you say warily. you can practically see her eyes roll without her being there with you—you’ve been friends with shoko long enough to know her like the back of your hand. and if you know her like you think you do, her idea is about to cause you a lot of stress.

“well, looks like i’m never trying to help you again,” she scoffs, “i could’ve written you a doctor’s note with a few of the copies i managed to snatch—but since you don’t want my help—”

“no, wait! you’re a genius,” you gasp happily, grinning wide as shoko huffs through the phone and mutters something faintly similar to ungrateful under her breath, “i could kiss you on the lips right now.”

“no thank you. you suck,” she hisses. you only giggle, relief flooding through your bones that maybe your grade is saved—and all thanks to having a friend who works in a doctor’s office. you silently send the universe your gratitude for having your best friend pursue a career in the medical field—the perks prove to be quite beneficial, it seems. 

“just send me a picture of it and make it seem like i’m too sick to work on the paper, and i’ll tell him i won’t finish in time. a one day extension should be enough.”

“where would you be without me,” she grumbles quietly, “i’ll send it to you in a second. now please let me finish my paper in peace.”

“okay. love you, you’re the best.”

“i hate you.” the line clicks and you giggle, happily celebrating that you most likely have a saved grade and a free night to yourself now that shoko has so kindly offered you a solution. and of course, you’ll take this as a learning curve and appropriately plan to give yourself enough time for the next paper.

it’s not long before your phone dings and shoko’s contact pops up on your screen with, sure enough, a doctor’s note with today’s date and reason for the visit. shoko has even taken the liberty to make you seem contagious—just so you can skip class tomorrow for good measure. beaming, you text a quick thanks bestie <;3 in response—too happy to even care that she sends you an emoji flipping you off. 

and it doesn’t take you long to craft the email either, making sure to properly address him with a greeting, adding apologies for the inconvenience—and as the icing on the cake, a promise that it won’t ever happen again in the future. you click the photo to upload the doctor’s note, and without even a second thought, you click send. 

and then within the split second that the email sends, and you realize just which photo you’ve accidentally clicked, your life flashes before your eyes. 

“no,” you mumble, “no no no,” you chant as you quickly open the email you’ve sent, eyes wide and throat dry. 

the photo is not the picture of the doctor’s note shoko sent—instead, it’s the picture right under it in your camera roll. the picture that’s not very suitable for sending your TA. the picture of your tits, just barely covering your nipples with your arm. the picture you took through giggles while changing after getting a little tipsy the night before (you’d felt just a tad bit sexy in your makeup.)

you sit in silent shock as you register that you just sent your TA your nudes—and just to make matters worse, he responds almost instantly, making your heart drop as you stare at his emailed reply with a shaky hand holding up your phone. 

please meet me in my office tomorrow before class so we can discuss the above email. 

suddenly, your worries are a lot more complicated than simply failing a class.

———————————————

you barely slept the night before, if at all, to be completely honest with yourself. the worst-case scenario runs through your head the entire time you toss and turn in bed. geto is probably going to report this, and then you’ll get expelled, and then you’ll never make it with a successful career, and then you’ll never be able to show your face to anyone you know again. 

your feet are as heavy as lead as they drag along the walk to his room, and you contemplate turning back and never showing up to his office, maybe simply even just refusing to ever return to campus at all. maybe you can move countries and start over somewhere else—maybe you can change your name and make a new life for yourself. 

but instead, you take a deep breath and knock on the door, waiting until you hear a soft come in before you enter. geto is seated at the desk, typing away at his laptop before meeting your eyes as you walk in.

“uh…hi,” you start, standing awkwardly by the door.

“hello,” he says, eyeing you slightly before looking back at his screen. if he has any ill feelings about last night, he does a good job of hiding it—you can’t read a single emotion on his face. somehow, that makes things worse. “have a seat,” he gestures at the chair across from him on the other side of the desk, waiting for you to seat yourself nervously in front of him. 

you sit down, watching as he opens his mouth to start—but you begin speaking before he can. “look, i know that email was really inappropriate, and i’m really sorry—it was an accident, i swear! i meant to click on the picture above it, and i didn’t realize—”

“i understand,” he cuts you off as he holds a hand up, offering you a kind smile that makes you tilt your head in confusion, “it’s fine.” fine. fine? he’s…just fine with it? he’s just willing to let you off the hook? “i’m not much older than you,” he chuckles, “i’m not foreign to these things. i’m sure you’re active in…that aspect of your life.”

oh god—why you? why of all people did this have to be you? why is the world so hellbent on making your life miserable in every aspect?

you eye the coiled wires of the phone on his desk, and you contemplate strangling yourself with them before he can say something anymore embarrassing. but, you have to admit—this is far better than being told you’ve been reported to the dean for misconduct.

“i’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” you fiddle with your fingers as you avoid his gaze, “i really did mean to send you a doctor’s note. i just didn’t realize i hit the picture under it.”

“like i said, it’s okay,” he reassures. calm. he’s almost too calm about this. too okay with it. almost like…like he didn’t mind at all in the first place.“but i wanted to make sure you’re aware of how fragile photos like that are.”

“huh?” you raise a brow. now, this is not where you expected the conversation to steer. you expected a lecture on how sending an educator your explicit photos is highly unprofessional, that it’s unacceptable and suggests other things—things that are completely against the rules and completely out of question to even consider. 

“i mean, photos like those getting into the wrong hands can lead to really bad predicaments,” geto continues, clearing his throat as he closes his laptop and meets your gaze. he looks you dead in the eye as he speaks his next words, “and i wouldn’t want sensitive content of you circulating around campus.”

“right,” you nod slowly, “it’s not like i send them around, or anything. i was just a bit drunk that night, and i was in my room bored, and my makeup was cute so i was feeling good about myself…and…and…yeah…” you trail off. 

why are you even explaining this to him in such detail? you silently curse yourself in your head, beating yourself up for running your mouth so much. 

“oh, that’s good to know,” he nods, “i’m glad to hear that. no one else has possession of these photos?”

you eye him slowly, “nope,” you confirm. “just you—by accident, of course.”

you’re not sure if you imagine it, or if the situation as a whole is making you overinterpret everything that’s happening—but you’re almost certain you hear his breath hitch a little. he’s no longer looking at you, no longer burning you under his gaze like he was just a minute ago.

“right, by accident,” he repeats. it’s slow, like he’s reminding himself, like he has to speak slowly to process the information. “well, i hope this serves as a lesson for being more careful next time. you don’t want young men to save such pictures of yourself for ulterior motives.”

geto suguru, your teacher’s assistant for intro to literature 1301, seems to be rather invested in your well-being—more than a TA really should be. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost disappointed that you sent him a significantly revealing photo of yourself by accident instead of intentionally. and, if you squint just a little, it almost seems like he doesn’t want anyone else to have the pictures. not because he’s concerned for you—but rather, because he wants to be the only one who’s seen them. 

your thoughts from last night come flooding back, how he’s probably well built under his shirt, how shoko thinks he’s still a virgin, and especially how he probably looks and sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. and geto suguru might think he has you cornered like a cat would a mouse, but what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been the serpent the whole time, fangs ready to sink into him and devour him whole. 

“you know, you seem like you speak from experience,” you can’t help but grin slightly. 

now, logically speaking, this is wrong—this is pushing the kindness he so graciously showed you. by now, you should be fighting back tears as you figure out a way to break the news to everyone you know that you’ve had to receive an expulsion for sending your TA nudes. by now, your life should’ve been at an all time low, so you really shouldn’t be testing your luck. 

but geto has practically seen your tits, so you’re not really sure there’s any point in acting like an angel around him—and he’s so incredibly hot in that button up shirt of his, sleeves rolled halfway up his arm. plus, the thought of him being your inexperienced TA, one who lets you strip him of his innocence as you slowly taint his purity—it excites you a little more than it really should.

he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. this time, yours bore into him through a searing gaze that almost makes him shift uncomfortably. 

“well, like i said, i am around your age, so i know how men’s minds work when it comes to these things—”

“so then tell me,” you raise a brow, smirking slightly as his jaw clenches, “is it because your mind works the same way?”

“now—”

“did you save my tit pics to your phone?” you ask bluntly. he hides the choked cough through a clearing of his throat—bingo, you think. almost instantly, the room shifts to him being nervous under your gaze as you eye him smugly. 

something about sweet, kind, successful geto suguru, young and ambitious with a perfect gpa and a flawless resume, being hot and bothered by your breasts makes you swell with pride—and you think maybe…maybe giving him a blow job might not be such an outlandish thought after all. 

maybe he wants it to be a reality just as badly as you do. 

“w-what are you implying—”

“did they turn you on?” you interrupt, watching as his cheeks heat up a slight flush of pink, “did you wish i’d moved my arm down so you could get the full view?” he clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. “was that the first nude you’ve ever been sent?”

“i think that’s enough,” he says sternly, but his voice is slightly higher in pitch—which tells you everything you need to know. and you’re enthused. “keep in mind, i could have every intention to notify the dean of these—”

“but suguru,” you pout, rolling his first name off your tongue so sweetly, he can’t help but be hungry for another taste of something so decadent, “if you tattle on me, you’ll never get a chance to actually see my nipples this time,” you giggle, “isn’t that what you want?”

“i—”

“i wonder,” you grin wickedly, “did you act like every other guy our age and jack off to a random girl’s tits?” 

you must hit close to home because he lets out a shaky exhale, jaw tight and fists clenched as his knuckles turn pale. he swallows thickly before finally meeting your eyes, face a deep shade of crimson as you grin at him widely. 

“i…i’m not…immune to things of that nature,” he finally admits, voice strained as your grin widens. almost instantly, you’re standing up, locking the door behind you and making your way over to his side of the desk without hesitation. the cards have been dealt in your hand, all that’s left is to play them—and you’re pleased to say that the game is heavily leaning in your favor. 

“wanna show me?” you ask with a sultry voice, “wanna show me how you fucked your fist last night? i’ll even let you see my nipples this time around,” you murmur as you seat yourself on his lap. 

geto scoots his chair back and makes room for you, breathing heavily as his pants strain with the tent already forming in them. his breath hitches when your hand rubs over his erection—and he curses himself for being so pathetic as to let a few words from you let him get riled up like this. but you’re so pretty—always have been. 

you sit in class and chew on the top of your pen, making it hard to avert his attention from your mouth. you tilt your head and furrow your brows so cutely when you’re confused, making it hard for him to concentrate on what he’s teaching. you laugh so sweetly out of glee when you do something correctly, and your voice shoots right through his heart—and sometimes, as ashamed as he is to admit it, straight to his dick too. 

and he’s well aware of how bad of an idea this is, but this is everything he’s ever dreamt about—right here under the palm of his hands. literally. so he grips your hips tightly, bringing you to rub over him through your own pants. the friction makes him throw his head back, moaning quietly as your clothed cunt drags along his length. you chuckle, palms gliding over his chest through his shirt and feeling the firm muscle under your hands. 

“does that feel good?” you ask, making him stifle a whimper as you glide over his nipples through his shirt.

your hands move to unzip his pants—and the best part? he lets you. he sits back and lets you free his aching cock from its confinements, he lets you wrap your fingers around his thick girth and squeeze gently, and he lets you pull the soft, low moans you’ve fantasized of hearing from his lips as you smear his pre cum along his shaft and stroke him slowly. 

“f-fuck,” he grunts, hips bucking into your hand, lips tugging between his teeth as he pants harshly with every squeeze at the base of his cock. and because you really can’t help it, you lean down to kiss along his jaw, making your way to his neck and nibbling at his skin. he groans, whispering your name—it makes your thighs squeeze together as a dull ache forms between your own legs. “feels…feels so good,” he mumbles breathlessly, “so different when you do it.”

you giggle, watching him carefully so as not to miss a single reaction. “oh yeah? you know, shoko said you were probably a virgin,” you purr against his ear, making his hands clutch onto your hips tighter, “you seem to be proving that theory right.”

“d-don’t stop,” he pleads when your hand slows, making his hips thrust sloppily into your fist and try to keep your earlier pace going. but you’re mean—just a tad bit cruel, and you wanna see him ooze with shame. so you squeeze on his cock, stilling the movement and making him rasp as he buries his head into your neck with a whine. 

“are you a virgin, suguru?” you hum, stroking his hair soothingly—but it contradicts the teasing tone of your voice. 

his face burns in your neck, “yes,” he mumbles quietly, like the admission stings. 

“how cute,” you pout, “so no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” he shakes his head slowly into the crook of your neck—but it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s hiding, so you pull his face away despite his initial protesting. “i want to hear it,” you say firmly. 

“fuck—no,” he groans, his face an even deeper shade of red than you thought was possible, “no, no one has ever…you know…”

“sucked your dick?” you grin.

“stop,” he whines. you chuckle quietly before climbing off his lap and sinking down to your knees before him, looking up at his shocked face with a smirk. 

“wanna know something?” you hum, “i’ve thought about sucking your dick.” 

“thinking about you TA like that?” he huffs a chuckle—but whatever semblance of composure he had, he loses as soon as you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his flushed cock, reddened and swollen at the head as beads of pre cum leak from the slit. 

“just like you jack off to your student,” you shoot back, “you want it, suguru? do you want me to make you feel good?”

“god—yes,” he hisses, “get on with it,” he says as he’s throwing you a glare when you snicker up at him from in between his legs. you run your tongue along the tip, humming as you take in the taste of him before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down your throat. 

the reaction is instant—geto slumps back against his chair, gasping as you swallow around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. you loosen your jaw, fucking him with your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein running across the underside of his cock. his hand falls to the top of your head while the other grips the armrest of his chair, skin turning white over his knuckles as he tightens his hold with each time the warmth of your mouth swallows around him. 

“oh—g-god, shit that’s it,” he grunts, hips bucking into your throat as you pick up your pace. “feels fuckin’ amazing—oh, fuck.”

your hand wraps around the base of his member, pumping what won’t fit in your mouth so no part of him is left neglected. and when your other hand reaches for his balls, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and squeezing gently, he rewards you with a whine, voice lilting off to a high pitched moan as his hips thrust up instinctively. your nose brushes against his pelvis, and with a few more swallows, you feel him twitch in your mouth. 

“fuck, fuck, ‘m c-close,” he pants, chest falling and rising erratically. you look up, watching through teary eyes as spit and pre cum dribble down your chin, taking in the pretty sight of his face flushed and his skin damp, bangs clinging to his forehead just like you imagined them to. “don’t stop—’m gonna cum…gonna…gonna make me cum,” he rasps. 

you moan around him, and the vibrations send him over the edge, hips raising as he groans loudly. hot, thick ropes of his cum paint your mouth, seeping past your lips and dripping down your chin as you try your best to swallow what you can. geto sounds better than you expected—voice deep and raspy, but still the same smoothness it always holds even through the cracks as he brokenly calls your name. 

the sound of his voice as he moans your name makes your walls clench around nothing and your clit throb. you let him fuck himself into your mouth through his high, riding out the last waves of his orgasm as pleasure burns through every nerve and every inch of him. when he finally slumps back into his chair, breathing harshly, you pull off of his cock, wiping the mess from your chin on your sleeve. and before you can open your mouth to tease him some more, you’re pulled back onto his lap, his mouth on yours, kissing you deep. 

“this’ll have to be a secret,” he mumbles, “for both of us.” 

for someone who’s never done anything like this before, geto rids you of your clothes almost expertly, lifting your shirt over your arms and sliding your pants off in an instant. he groans when his fingers trace over your clit—which you’re happy to know he can find—and feels the wetness of your slick drooling over the fabric. 

“c’mon, suguru,” you hum, voice edging on a little impatient, “go ahead and touch a pussy for the first time.”

he huffs, yanking the fabric to the side before sinking his ring and middle fingers into you, knuckle deep as this thumb runs circles along your clit. you whine, grinding your hips down on his hand, impatiently waiting for him to move. 

“for someone who’s experienced,” he grins, “you’re awfully impatient.” 

you open your mouth to respond, but as soon as you try to retort, his fingers thrust into you, hitting the sensitive spot of your walls with ease and making you cut yourself off with a moan. he scissors his fingers, stretching you open as your head falls to his shoulder with soft whimpers, feeling him curl his digits deep into you. you whine as your clit hits over his palm, feeling the slow build up of the coil in your belly reach the snapping point.

“keep going,” you encourage, “‘m close, k-keep going—fuck, suguru!” 

“god, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, watching as your head tips back and your mouth parts with a silent sob, watching as you break—all because of him. your walls spasm around his fingers as they bully into you and ride you through your orgasm, and your lips are slightly swollen from biting on them, eyes crinkled as you screw them shut, skin damp and glistening as sweat coats your forehead. 

perfect—you look perfect, and suguru has fantasized about this image in his head for so long, he can hardly believe it’s a reality before him. 

your hands find his long hair, tugging and twisting at the strands that slip between your fingers as the last few waves of your high crash over you. 

the rest is a blur—somewhere through rough and sloppy kisses, through rolled hips and soft groans as you grind against each other, geto has managed to unclasp your bra, letting your tits bounce freely. his hands immediately cup around them, squeezing gently before his lips pull away and his eyes fall to your chest. 

“fuck, they look better in person,” he grunts, rolling his thumbs over your pebbled nipples before pinching them lightly and rolling them between his fingers. you squeal, and your cunt is dripping—smearing your slick along his bare thigh as he teases over the sensitive skin. “feels good?” he mumbles.

“so good—don’t stop,” you moan, making his breath hitch in his throat. grinning, you open your eyes, hazy with lust, meeting his own unfocused gaze, “doing so well, suguru. making me feel so good.”

geto likes praise. you can tell that much alone from his hefty list of accomplishments on his resume. he’s beaming with pride the first day your professor introduces him in class while explaining how capable he is at his young age. he does a good job of staying humble, but you never fail to notice the twinge of excitement in his eyes when he’s praised for his impressive work ethic. 

there’s no exception now either—his eyes search yours for every hint he can find that he’s doing a good job, that he’s doing well and giving you exactly what you want. you swear his cock twitches when you say the word good—and he seems to notice it too because there’s a shaky breath against your neck as he groans. 

“fuck,” he breathes, hands falling to your hips and gripping tightly, desperately, when your hand grabs his throbbing cock, still hard and leaking pre cum from the reddened tip. “want to feel you,” he groans, “please.”

it’s all it takes for you to sink down on him, forehead pressing to his as you both moan against each other’s mouths. he’s big—long and thick, curved at an angle that makes him sink against your sweet spot almost perfectly, almost like he was made for you. it’s a shame he’s your TA, a small part of you almost feels a twinge of disappointment he can’t fully be yours. 

“fuck, suguru,” you gasp, “so big, feels so good.”

he whines, helping lift your hips up and guide you down on his cock, your hips rolling against his, the sound of your moans and the slapping of skin filling up the small office. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear and figure out what’s going on—but it only thrills you more, making you slam down on him faster. 

“so tight,” he grunts, “g-god, so fucking tight, i can’t—” 

his hands are everywhere, they dig into your hips, glide up to cup your tits, and find the back of your neck to pull you close and meet your lips. he’s panting, sweat making strands of hair cling to his forehead as his skin flushes a deep shade of crimson. his hips buck up into you, meeting you halfway with desperate thrusts, trying to feel you deeper. 

your head is spinning—not just from the way his thick girth splits you open, or from the way his tip slams against your spot so perfectly, but from the way his touch seems to light your skin up with every drag of his fingertips. and then he brings one hand down between your bodies, rubbing his thumb against your clit in harsh circles. 

“are you gonna cum, suguru? cause i am,” you moan, “wanna be good and cum with me? fill me up nice and full?”

“sh-shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. he does want to fill you up—wants to cum deep into you so you’re dripping as you walk out of his office. so that when you sit in class and stare at him as he teaches class, you can’t help but think of the way he was buried to the hilt inside you just hours ago. “yeah…yeah, ‘m gonna cum. gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, “stuff you full of my cum. want it?”

“wan’ it so bad, suguru,” you whine, “look so pretty when you cum, wanna see it again.” 

and with a few more rolls of your hips, the squelching sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you all but drowned out but your pants, you fall off the edge—geto not far behind. you can feel his cock twitch as he shoots rope after rope of his thick cum into you, angling his hips up to fuck it deep into your pussy. it’s a mess, your slick mixed with his seed dripping along your thighs and coating your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care. and you also can’t find it in you to care that you’ll have to leave after this and see him again as you sit through his class. and you certainly don’t have it in you to care that you could both get in serious trouble if anyone realized this was happening.

instead, you cup his cheeks with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch in his throat with a strangled whine, and you kiss him, hard and deep. 

“f-fuck, fuck—ngh, shit,” he gasps, against your mouth in labored pants. it’s never felt like this—cumming into his fist is one thing, but cumming into your tight walls, feeling them squeeze around him in sync with his high is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. he thinks you’ve ruined touching himself for him, thinks he’ll never be able to go back to being fine with just his hand to keep him company when he’s aching between his legs.

after this, geto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to just forget this happened—or about you. his hands don’t stop guiding you onto his cock, hips not ceasing to fuck up into you until you’re both whimpering from sensitivity.

it’s too much—but somehow, it’ll never be enough.

you slump over him when he finally slows down to a stop, bodies a sweaty heap against each other on his chair as his arms wrap around you and his lips find your damp forehead for a soft kiss. you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw in return.

“so,” you wriggle your brows, “can this count as extra credit?” you ask cheekily, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle as he pulls you tighter against his chest.

“sure. i’ll even give you enough extra credit opportunities to be top of the class,” he grins.

The meetings weren't of any real importance, all managerial but necessary he supposed. The agency was going through a reshuffle of staff, ranging from heroes who worked underneath Shoto, all the way down to the janitors. He doesn't know exactly why he was asked to attend the meetings but he didn't put up a fight, he didn't have anything else to do anyway.

His head of two-tone hair hits the headrest, eyes staring up, bored, at the plain ceiling. Maybe he could just go and change into his hero suit, and go on a short patrol. At least then he'll have something to do, something to occupy his mind outside of the meaningless paper that sat strewn across his dress.

With a new goal in mind, Shoto nods and stands. Long arms stretched above his head, the seams of his white dress shirt threatening to burst when his biceps involuntarily tense up with the stretch. He's hardly one step around the desk when his work phone rings, and he pouts a little. It's a childish thing to be pouting at the fact they might be keeping him in the building for longer, but he relents. Picking up the phone, a monotone "Shoto here—".

"Sir, there's a disturbance in the parking lot at the back of the agency." comes the voice of his assistant, sounding rather out of breath like he had to run.

"A disturbance? Can't someone else—" Shoto tries, running a hand over his face at the idea of dealing with something like a fight in the car park of all places.

His assistant huffs, not seeming to have the time for Shoto's ability to brush everything off. "No," the man nearly hisses, "Apparently there's someone down there with a weapon, people are scared." and now Shoto is frowning, a weapon, really?

Shoto sighs, running that same hand back up his face and through his hair, before he's swiping up the fancy black suit jacket off the back of his chair and shouldering it on, phone held between his shoulder and ear whilst he pulls it up. "Fine, I'll be there soon." and he hangs up, his assistant just heard sighing in what sounded like relief.

He doesn't waste time then, just in case it is an actual villain who somehow managed to worm their way through his security and into the parking lot. His sidekicks give him side glances as he makes his way out of the office floor in long fast strides, fixing the collar of his jacket when he rounds the stairwell that leads directly to the parking lot.

As he grows closer and closer, he can hear the sound of something. It's pretty loud considering he's still in the stairwell, but he's certain it sounds like something is being broken. A quick shove of the door that leads outwards makes the sound ten times louder, and now he can definitely hear the sound of glass being hit with something hard, and repeatedly.

He's running now, seeing a crowd just at the corner as they gossip and gasp with each.. grunt? can he hear someone grunting? His eyebrows furrow, not able to picture just what's going on until he rounds the corner and makes his way past the crowd that all wordlessly part for the tall Todoroki.

Shoto can't quite believe what he's seeing, eyes owlishly blinking and lips slightly agape at the scene in front of him. Right before him is a woman in just a pair of leggings and a baggy-looking hoodie, a baseball bat wrapped up tightly in two hands before it's being brought down with such force on the black sleek car that the bonnet dents, the windshield has been absolutely destroyed. Multiple holes from where the bat has made contact. There's glass everywhere, shattered into what must be millions of pieces and he's pretty sure that's a wing mirror on the floor—

Wait.

That's his car.

That's a woman, destroying his brand new imported black Mercedes-Benz.

He's absolutely stumped, muscles locking into place as he tries to take in the whole thing. He definitely doesn't know this woman, he knows he hasn't done anything to piss someone off this bad. But he can't fucking help his eyes from drifting from the damage to his car and locking onto her face, she was so beautiful. Even with the nasty scowl on her face, eyes wide with vivid rage and hair messy beyond belief from the exertion it's taking to destroy his car.

A loud gasp catches his attention again, the sound of the car beeping finally reaching his ears and he's pushing forward until he's crunching on the glass. His hands untuck from his pockets, not yet activated with his quirk but ready just in case this goes south.

The sound of crunching catches your attention, your head snapping up and your eyes take a second to focus on the red and white blur in front of you until you register his mouth is moving, and those mismatched eyes are just as wide as your own.

"...What?" you ask, hands wringing against the metal of the bat in your hands when you squint a little at the man, who registers belatedly that he is in fact Pro Hero: Shoto, No. 3.

"I said, put the weapon down and no one has to get hurt," Shoto repeats, calmly, and his palms open in front of him to prove that he's not going to use his quirk on you if you just hand it over. He can see the debate behind your eyes, the way you glance at the destruction that lays just in front of you before your eyes meet his again. His muscles tense up, locking up and ready to pounce—

The clanging of the metal bat bouncing off of the floor and rolling along the floor makes his stance relax just slightly, he makes his way around to the bat and rolls it off somewhere behind him with his foot whilst his eyes never once leave your face. Your eyes are all puffy like you'd been crying for hours.

He casts a glance over towards the crowd, who all make themselves scarce at the frown he gives them at wasting time on the clock before he looks back at you and tilts his head with a question. "Want to explain to me why you did that?" he makes sure to keep his tone calm, and impassive, he doesn't want to make you feel worse than you already do.

You sniffle, rubbing a fist over your nose as you meet his gaze, quickly darting it down and at the destroyed car. "Asshole fucked over my best friend," you finally admit, and Shoto is once again confused. Did he fuck someone over? Is he the asshole here?

Then you say the name of one of his sidekicks, and he almost wants to sigh a breath of relief. So he wasn't the cause of this apparently 'well-deserved' outrage, so you say.

"—then when I found out he was just some sleazy sidekick working under a big shot hero," you stop yourself mid-sentence, seeming to remember that you're ranting to that same 'big shot hero'. You sheepishly glance at Shoto, who just has an eyebrow arched at you for a second as he debates on what to say.

He sighs, "I'm sure it was well deserved. It's a shame that's not his car," he supplies, shrugging a little when you go wide-eyed and gawping like a fish out of water at the realisation that you destroyed some random persons car.

"It's mine."

And it's almost comical the way the blood drains from your face, how you look almost like you've seen a ghost as you stare up at him with glassy wide eyes. He waits for a moment, to see if you'd make a move. He expects you to try and make a run from the crime scene, but instead, you start crying. Big, fat tears that are streaking down your already sodden cheeks, and you're heaving in heavy breaths.

"I-I'm so.. s-sorry!" you try to breathe out, eyes barely open as the tears just come and it makes Shoto uncomfortable, but not in the way most would think. It makes him uncomfortable because he can feel the tightness of his pants worsen a little more at the indecent thought that passes through his brain at lightspeed, a thought of what you'd look like if you were crying whilst bouncing on his cock, begging him to make you cum after he denied it so many times.

It's a perverted thought, downright disgusting but he can't help but entertain it a little when you sniffle and rub again at your nose, now facing him and you're pleading about something, blubbering about you'll repay him back—he knows you can't afford it—but he lets you cry about it.

He wonders what it'd be like having you pleading for his cock.

Your movement snaps him from the thoughts fogging his mind, you're digging around in a bag that he didn't even notice you had. His eyebrows furrow until you try pulling out your purse and he frowns. You really were going to try and pay him off, he doesn't even care about the destruction of his car. It's not like he's lacking in money, and even if he was he's sure he could pull the youngest child string on his father and get a brand new one.

"Don't worry about it," he lays a cold hand directly on top of yours as you try to pull out what looks like hardly 13,000¥. You freeze at the contact on your hand, marvelling for a second at how his hand feels like it's been dunked inside of an ice bath. "You can repay me by letting me take you for dinner tonight."

You blink up at him, big and owlish, trying to process the words that he had just said. His face is giving away nothing, it's hard to tell if he's joking or being genuine but the way his eyebrow furrows just slightly and his lips flatten into a line tells you he's expecting an answer. You fumble for a second, hands stuffing the money back into your purse and you miss the look on his face at the loss of contact when you look down to zip up your bag.

"You're serious?" you question, and he nods in return. "Oh. Uh, well, sure?" he sees you're hesitant, he doesn't blame you for thinking that it's a prank or a trap of some kind. Any normal person would've had you arrested for the destruction of property and demanded you pay up.

He licks his lips, eyes finally darting away from you and towards his car. His hand that was once in contact with your own curls into a tight fist at his side when he speaks again, "Give me your number," he contains the wince at how blunt he's being, he remembers the speech Izuku gave him about being so straight forward towards women in the past but he can't help it, he's just met you and he wants to have you pinned beneath him already.

You don't hesitate in pulling out your phone, and offer it up to him once you unlock it. His fingers brush against your own, a shiver subtly shooting up along your spine. Once the details are exchanged, he doesn't say much else other than telling you he'd text you when he's going to be picking you up and a quick "Dress nice." before he's turning away and disappearing behind the door that leads upstairs.

...

Shoto: Just wear something nice, it doesn't matter too much. It's just dinner.

A single text message that had been haunting your mind the entire evening as you prepared to meet with Shoto again, he really gave you no time to even really think about it or find something "nice" for this supposed "just dinner", you felt horribly underdressed. Having a few dresses for going out was one thing but having to dress up for a pro hero, the number three at that, was an entirely different issue. He was rich, everyone knew that and if that fancy car that you trashed this morning was anything to go by - it'd be safe to say he was rolling in it.

So here you were, standing in front of your apartment building looking like an idiot. The area you lived in wasn't a bad one compared to others but you still stood out like a sore thumb, you had pulled out one of the "nicer" dresses you owned, in truth you had only really ever worn it when you went out with your friends on nights out. It stopped around midthigh, tight around your waistline and accented your cleavage but you still felt like some two-bit hooker stood out in front of your building whilst you waited for the pro to arrive.

Pulling your phone from the small purse you had brought, you swiped through it absentmindedly, going through text messages to ensure you were actually the one on time - you were, Shoto was just taking his time. You pursed your lips a little, lip gloss shining in the pale light that was coming from the overhead street light before you felt a rumble in your chest, it made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck and goosebumps ran wild along your arms as you lifted your head up from the screen that was illuminating your face.

Your eyes watched as a black, clearly very expensive, sports car rolled up in front of your apartment, the engine roaring as it rolled to a stop just in front of you revealing Shoto who was quick to get out of the driver's side. His hands came to his jacket as he buttoned up a single button and made his way around the front of the car, white and red hairs swept back beautifully with gel. You could tell just by the stitching on the suit that it cost more than your yearly pay grade, he looked handsome.

He finally came to a stop in front of you, his lips filling with a smile as he looked down at your dress. He couldn't help the thoughts that floated through his mind, the way your legs were mostly exposed and how good your breasts looked. You'd be the death of him tonight. "You look beautiful," he offers finally, words coming from his mouth so easily it surprises you. You couldn't stop the heat that rose to your cheeks at the compliment, he said it in such a soft and slightly lower tone, his eyes were drinking up your form completely.

Your eyebrows shoot up, giving yourself a glance down before looking back up to meet his gaze. "Thank you, you don't look half bad yourself." you smile gently, a gentle chuckle coming from somewhere deep in Shoto's chest.

He let his fingers wrap around your hand softly, guiding you a few steps back towards the car since you were still frozen in the spot. You subconsciously squeezed your fingers against his hand as he came to a stop and stood with you at the door of his car, he leaned in a little close which made your breath hitch until you heard the click of the car door, opening it up for you.

You let your hand drop from his own, still blushing and hoping he couldn't see how his words and actions were affecting you. You slipped into the car, letting the soft plush leather of the seats melt against your exposed skin as you watched him close the door and walk around the front of the car, the headlights highlighting his suit and the glint of a very expensive-looking watch on his wrist as he adjusted his suit jacket once again.

Shoto relaxed into the seat next to you, his hands barely moving against the steering wheel as he started to drive so effortlessly like he could shut off his brain completely and be fine with it. Your eyes narrowed slightly to the now visible wristwatch since his jacket sleeves were slightly pulled up from him holding onto the steering wheel, your eyes slowly wandered along his suit then, admiring the stitching, the colours, everything. He was exquisite, you could see exactly now why the magazines fawned over him so much.

"So about that sidekick," he started, eyes meeting yours for a split second before he continued to focus on the road. You blinked out of the very obvious staring stupor you were in, your eyes quickly darting to look forward at the road. "I spoke with management, we're pretty happy with dropping him from the agency. We don't need someone like him on our team. Apparently, we'd had a few reports about his behaviour in the last couple of years but no one had ever brought it up to me."

Your silence prompted him to look at you once again when he stopped at a redlight, eyebrow arched at your wide eyes and slightly parted lips before they curled into a gentle smile. "Thank you." was your reply, meeting his gaze again and Shoto swore his heart began to beat faster, fluttering in his chest at the sight of such a pretty smile directed towards him.

His fingers tightened around the leather of the steering wheel, his mind at war for a second as he soaked in the gentle look you were giving him. He wanted to devour you. The flickering of red to green snaps his eyes back to the road, and his foot presses firmer on the pedal. He can't stop the raise in temperature of the car when his minds flicker to the dress you're wearing, how good it would look with it all bunched up at your hips whilst you ride him—

"Shoto?" you break his train of thought, and he blinks in surprise to find he drove completely on autopilot to the restaurant parking lot. It wasn't overly populated, being that it was still the middle of the week. You say his name again and he finally glances at you, swallowing hard when he realises you have a slight sheen to your skin now from the temperature of the car, he wants to lick it off your skin.

"Are you o—" your squeak of surprise is muffled by the pro hero who seemed to lunge himself across the middle console, lips pressing hard against your own and you're frozen for a moment like a deer in headlights. But the second a cold hand lays on the side of your neck, long fingers curling into the hair at the base of your skull has you melting into the kiss completely. Lips parting in response to his movements, his tongue brushing against your own in a few delicate kisses before the hand tightens in the hair he was previously holding. You gasp, the sudden small shot of pain that danced its way down your spine and directly between your thighs had you completely pliant in Shoto's hands.

He was just hovering by your lips, huffing heavy hot breaths against your mouth as his heavy-lidded eyes scanned over your own. "Tell me this is okay," he pleads, almost a whine in his voice when he continues "If not, I'll stop right now and take you home." but the thought of being taken home, all horny and needy sounded like the worst possible idea.

"I want this," you breathe back, eyes rolling back when his lips drag along your own and down to your jawline. "Please, I want you so bad." and he smiles against your cheek, pecking a soft kiss against the fat of it before leaning back so he was once again at eye level with you. The slightly glassy look in your eye was making it impossible for him to control his thoughts, making it hard to hear the small voice in the back of his mind telling him to slow down. He just met you. But that all went down the drain when you moaned, it was quiet and breathy, but it was enough to make his stomach tighten and his mind shut off.

It all happened in one smooth succession, he leaned back just enough to pull on something so his seat shifted backwards and then he was pulling you over the console and into his lap. Both of your thighs were on either side of his own, your dress straining against the stretch but it was giving Shoto the perfect little sneak peek of what could be lying beneath. His hands stroked along your sides, marvelling in the difference in your size and his hands as his hands moved over the dips and curves of your body. He thought you were beautiful, a goddess he had managed to wrangle into his lap.

"God, you're so pretty," he muttered more so to himself, admiring the way your skin was pliant under his firm grip, squeezing in places to watch you writhe naturally down into his lap. "I want to fuck you." and the way he says it so bluntly, so straight to the point it has you clenching around nothing, dripping at the idea of having this man buried between your thighs. "Will you be a good girl and let me?"

Your eyelashes flutter, your gaze hazy at the sight of the man who's beneath you. The praise that rolled off of his tongue was so effortless, that you supposed made sense, everyone always said Shoto Todoroki was such a gentleman. With great effort, you manage to nod through the lust-filled fog settling heavily on your mind, but Shoto just clicks his tongue and a cold hand is spanking the side of your thigh.

"Words, sweetheart. I know you can use them." It should've been condescending, the tone he used, but it just made you even needier for the man.

"Please," you start, leaning forward so your lips brush against his own. "Please, Shoto, I'll be a good girl." and you're nodding as if to make your words more believable, and he does believe you. He knows you'll be a good girl for him if the way you're throbbing against his thighs is any indicator. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when you take the initiative to duck your head to the side, nipping and kissing along his sharp jawline and down along the pulse point in his throat.

His hips jerked upwards on instinct, rolling against the exposed expanse of the lace panties you wore and pulling one of the sweetest noises he had heard all night from your pretty lips. Your hands travelled the expanse of his chest, undoing the button of his suit jacket before your hands pressed hard against the muscles beneath his shirt. Your nails curling naturally against the prominent six pack you could feel, and Shoto couldn't control the shiver that rolled over his body nor the more harsh jerk of his hips upwards.

And finally, your hands landed on the bulge between his legs, delicate fingertips brushing along the hard length that was being painfully compressed in his trousers. He hissed at the way you pressed a little firmer against the vein leading all the way to the tip of his cock, making his hips jerk involuntarily once again. Shoto cracked open his eyes to meet your hazy eyes, and the smirk on your lips was enough to know you were having far too much fun teasing him.

But before he could air his minor annoyance at being toyed with, you were untucking the bottom of his once crisp dress shirt and undoing the thick leather belt, all whilst keeping your eyes locked with his mismatched ones. It was like he was entranced, letting your hands manipulate his trousers until they were open and your warm hand wrapped around his cock had him groaning deep in his chest.

He couldn't stop his head from hitting the headrest harshly when you broke eye contact to glance down at his cock, it was unbelievably pretty—the mushroom head an angry red from the harsh restraints and teasing, it was flushed a light pink all the way down to the mixture of red and white pubes that trailed up into a pretty happy trail. Of course, Shoto Todoroki, the most eligible bachelor in all of Japan would have the prettiest cock you had ever had the pleasure of holding.

The slither of spit that leaked from your lips and made contact with the tip of his cock made Shoto moan, actually moan, the contrasting difference between the white-hot skin and your cool spit. Then the way your palm covered the head of his cock, thoroughly spreading your saliva along his cock until you were jerking him gently, yet quickly. His eyes were locked with your own, his eyebrows pulled together in what would look like he was in pain but he felt euphoric. It wasn't often that Shoto got the chance to divulge his fantasies, never one to sleep around with the plethora of girls who threw themselves at his feet.

He wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste.

So he slipped his hands along your thighs, fingertips digging harshly into the plushness of your thighs until the dress you were wearing was hiked up over your hips and he got a full view of the pretty lacy panties you were wearing. His hands automatically went to them, running his fingers down and around until he grasped the globes of your ass. "You wear these for me?"

You've pulled your lip between your teeth, and the gaze you're giving him through his eyelashes is enough of a confirmation. You wanted to be fucked. His hand left your ass for a second before you were pressing forward into his chest, hand halting on his cock as you gasped loudly at the sharp pain that radiated along the skin of your ass cheek before a cool hand was smoothing over it, instantly cooling the skin off from the harsh slap. "You're a secret little slut, aren't you?" he mumbles against your temple, taking a deep inhale of that sweet perfume you wore for him. For him, he realises, you did it all for him.

His fingers stroked along your hips again until one slipped between your thighs, gliding hot fingers against the wetness that had been sticking to your lips for a while now. He groaned alongside your soft moan when he found your clit, rubbing tight slow circles against it through the soiled material of your panties. "You're soaked baby, you must be so desperate.. hm?"

It's a rhetorical question, you know that, but you can't stop the pitiful nod of your head and the needy pout you give him when he continues to tease you through the outside of your panties. He must take pity on the way you're looking at him because those same fingers dip to the side and pull your panties out of the way, revealing the hot stickiness of your lips to the air. Shoto wastes no time in dipping those same fingers down through your wet heat, dragging the slick back and forth until it was stringy when he pulled his fingers back to tap at your clit.

"So needy." he chuckles softly at the way you writhe, trying to seek out his hand again that pulls away to cover your own that's still been tightly wrapped around his cock this whole time. "Don't worry, I got you.." is all he says before angling the tip of his cock between your thighs, the thick head spreading your lips apart effortlessly to coat himself in your fluids.

Your hand that was once occupied by his cock presses against his chest, curling into the material when he finally shifts just a little lower until he's breaching the tight ring of muscle that has you gasping, tensing your thighs up on instinct. Shoto struggles to choke down the groan at the sudden tightness wrapped around the tip of his dick, his spare hand coming down to rub a warm soothing finger against your clit to entice you into relaxing. "Relax sweetheart, promise it'll feel good if you just relax."

"Hurts, Sho'." you sniffle, and his eyes instantly dart up from between your legs and to your face to see the hot tears bubbling at your eye line. Your nose is scrunched up a little at the clear pain of next to no prep, but you're not giving up with the way you roll your hips subtly to help with inching him further into your pussy. "'s too much."

And fuck if you don't sound even better than how he imagined that very morning when meeting you when you were blubbering about paying for his car. He can't stop the way he bucks his hips up, burying the rest of his length deep inside of you with a deep groan. Your hands are curling painfully against his pecs, nails somehow digging into his skin enough to draw out thick red lines beneath the shirt.

He lets you settle on his lap, quivering against his chest with the odd sniffle as you just let him stretch you out. It feels like he's in fucking heaven, and all he wants to do is grab your hips and fuck up into you until you're creaming on his cock.

"Move, Sho'," you mumble against the dewy skin of his throat after a moment of relaxing around his girth, giving your own experimental roll of your hips which earned you a pretty moan from Shoto. His hands readjusted on your hips, thick long fingers hooking just under the crease of your butt to hoist you up enough so just the tip of his cock was buried in your plush heat.

And then he let go of the restraints, thrusting his hips upwards to meet your downward thrusts at a pace that was far from slow, far from gentle. The sound of his thighs meeting yours was loud, and you were aware somewhere in the back of your mind that the car was most definitely bouncing from the force of his thrusts.

"Oh, oh my god," you moan in total abandon, eyes fluttering as you try to focus on the man who is mere inches away from your face. Both of his arms have snaked around you, pulling you hard into his chest as he leans fully back into the seat that must've been laid further back at some point. His large palms are splayed out along your spine and shoulderblades, pinning you to his sweaty body as he pounds deep and fast into you.

Shoto is struggling to keep his own eyes open, his mixture of grey and blue eyes meeting yours despite the way you're being jostled on his lap. "So fuckin' tight, you feel s'good baby." he manages to get out between his heavy panting, hissing at the way you clench around his cock at the pet name. "You like that? You like me calling you baby?"

He thinks you're nodding, it's hard to tell with how hard he's drilling into you but you keep clenching around him, moaning when he hisses the pet name when you arch your back a little more and bounce your hips of your own volition. "'m close, g'nna cum f' you." you sound utterly fucked out already, cock drunk from the way the tip of his cock keeps ploughing without mercy against the squishy soft spot deep inside of you and making your hips twitch as you get closer and closer to your slice of heaven.

"Be a good girl and cum for me," he brushes a hand along your cheek, moving the hair away from your eyes and holding your gaze. He never believed you would be capable of becoming somehow even more beautiful, but here you were; drool-covered lips, flushed features and glassy eyes from the tears that haven't stopped rolling down your cheeks from his vicious pace. You were a piece of art, and all because of him.

You're writhing against him, and he tilts his head a little to slot his lips just against your own. Not quite kissing you just yet, not until after he mutters a "Cum," against your lips. He occupies every part of your mind, swallowing you whole with the way he kisses you and the way he continues to seamlessly fuck up into you when your orgasm hits hard. You moan loud and long against his mouth, muffled with each peck of his lips.

Shoto is the first to break off, leaning his head back to admire the sight before him. You're bouncing on his cock just from the power of his own hips, your dress had long been moved from your chest from the way he had been fucking you. Then his eyes shifted down to the loud wet squelching noises coming from between your legs, a white ring formed around the base of his cock and melting into the coarse hair there.

"Such a good girl, you did so well for me sweetheart." he's rubbing soothing circles against your hips, letting you roll them gracefully against his own to let you come down from the orgasm that you hit you hard. You hum in response to his words, eyes closed as you keep your forehead pressed hard against his shoulder.

He lets you do this for a few more minutes, just gently coming down whilst he embraces you, a cold hand hooked on the back of your neck beneath your ruined hair to try and help cool you down faster. "You okay?" he mumbles against your hairline, rocking his hips with your own when you start to pick up the pace just a little bit more.

"Yeah, yeah," you whisper, planting a kiss against his throat before you lean back some to meet his gaze. "Wanna make you cum too," you smile, biting your lip gently when he thrusts his hips up again into you. "Want you to use me to cum, Sho'." and you giggle at the deep sultry groan that bubbles deep in his chest, rumbling against your hands that are pressed against you.

"You might regret that," is all he says before he's spreading his legs just a little bit more, as much as he can in a car anyway, his hands instantly latching onto your ass and throwing you up a little more over his body so your tits are directly in his face. And then he's thrusting up into you again, whilst his lips latch onto the nipple that slipped from the confines of the dress.

The vigorous pace was back, the pro displaying his stamina beautifully with the way he's effortlessly holding you up for him to fuck up into you with such force it's making your eyes cross and your stomach tighten again as the familiar white-hot heat flushes over you from head to toe. He nips and bites along your chest, moving between your nipples to make sure they're all fluffy and sore from his ministrations. You must be close again because he twitches deep inside of you mid-thrust when you clamp down around him, velvet walls squeezing him for all his worth as he tries to bully his way through the sudden tightness.

"Please," you mumble, and he doesn't even know what you're begging for but he's happy to try and meet your pleas with his even rougher thrusts, throwing his hips harshly up into yours as you drop down just as hard. "Oh, fuck, fuck." is the only warning he gets before your entire body ceases up, your muscles locking you into place and Shoto can't stop the loud moan that escapes his lips from the intense way you're clenching around him.

He doesn't stop, however, still doing his best to thrust up into you as he cums deep inside of you, unable to stop himself or even ask if he was allowed to. But fuck it felt so fucking good, your pussy was practically massaging it out of him with the rhythmic twitches of your walls.

Slowly he begins to slow down his thrusts, letting you relax on his lap with his cock still buried deep inside of you as both of your essences begin to spill from the tight confines of your pussy. He lays kisses against your shoulder, up along your neck to your ear as you heave out deep breaths, trying to refocus your mind after he fucked your brains out.

"Fuck." Shoto is the first to speak, muscles slowly relaxing and melting into the leather of his car. You laugh breathlessly, the warmth blooming against his exposed collarbones before you lean back some to meet his gaze. "I really didn't plan to have this happen so soon."

You arch an eyebrow, a playful smile on your lips. "'So soon'? so you were planning on it happening at some point?" and Shoto somehow has it in him to look bashful, heat painting his pretty cheeks as he narrows his eyes to look out of the window. That's all you needed as your answer, as you leaned forward and laid a delicate kiss against his cheek before shifting up and off of him, both of you hissing at the sudden loss of heat.

"You think we'll still have our reservation?" you ask once settled back into your seat, sorting out your dress the best you could but it was really no use, he'd fucked you within an inch of your life in the thing. Shoto laughs, a low barely audible thing but it's beautiful nonetheless as he meets your eyes.

"No, I don't think so." he relaxes into his seat after tucking himself away, running a sweaty hand through his hair to try and keep it out of his eyes. "But I could always take you back to my place? Maybe try doing the whole thing the correct way this time."

And you hum as if in thought, "Sounds good." you smile, and he offers you one in return at the relief that washes over him at you accepting his offer to try and fix his fuck up of being unable to control himself before he even had the chance to take you to dinner.

But you both know deep down inside, that he's going to end up fucking you the second you step inside of his apartment, and again for many nights after that.

oh my god i didn't realise just how much i had written until after lmao, anyway hope you enjoyed :) lowkey this was a bit of a mess but i tried to give some plot to build towards my horny thoughts

↳ [masterlist]

When he loves someone, his affection comes in odd ways. Sometimes it’s a flick to the forehead, other times it’s a teasing remark, and today, it’s him asking you if he could stay with you while you shower.

It’s not necessary the worst request, but when you consider the fact that he’s asking to sit on a stool and talk to you while you bathe, you find it a bit strange.

“Why would you even want that?” You ask him, all while you get ready for your nighttime shower.

“I just wanna be there.”

You shrug, tell him “sure”, and move on with your day. He sits on the toilet seat as you shower, recounting his day and all the small things that ticked him off.

“I never knew you could talk this much,” you laugh. He’s not necessarily the most quiet partner, but words are often few when it comes to your Kei. He’s more of a listener than anything, telling you how much he likes to hear your voice when you “bitch about everything.” (His words, not yours.)

-

Once you spend enough time with Tsukishima, though, you learn that he’s not evasive, just caring. He cares for you in ways you’ve never been loved before.

He shows you this when you feel as if you’re looking the Grim Reaper in the eyes, period cramps eating you away, and laying in your shared bed.

“Get up,” he whispers, careful to not yell for he knows how much you hate loud noises.

“Don’t talk to me.”

He knows it’s the cramps talking, so he only responds with a roll of his eyes.

“Okay,” he says, and begins to lift you off the bed. You nearly scream in shock, hitting his chest lightly.

“Put me down!” You kick your legs as he carries you bridal-style towards the bathroom. You know what he’s doing, trying to motivate you to not wallow in your pain, but you’re far too stubborn and in too much pain to care.

“Don’t ignore me!”

“You told me not to talk to you,” he retorts, gently placing you on the closed toilet seat and kneeling in front of you. “I ran a bath for you.”

You stare at him, head tilted to the side, and you wonder how you got so damn lucky.

“You want me to strip you, or?” He speaks up in the midst of your silence.

“Don’t be an ass.”

Katsuki stands. Loudly. “I need a drink.” Then he stomps off, ignoring the snickering. Well… trying to. Sero and his stupid square teeth are gonna be the bane of his existence tonight, all because you weaselled your way into family dinner.

Since graduating college, Kirishima has been making the hulking effort of trying to keep his little gang of friends together, and over the past few years, it’s been fine. Monthly bar meets turned into drinking nights at houses, which again morphed— because of scheduling and tolerances— into dinner and board games nights. Sometimes not everyone could make it, and that was fine, but when Kirishima started seeing Momo, she began showing interest in the catch-ups as well, then Denki hooked back up with Jirou, and it became this whole thing.

So now Ochako and Deku and you are here by proxy, and if Katsuki complains about it, he’s gonna be labelled the little bitch.

He decides against the kitchen, and instead heads down to where Kirishima and Momo are canoodling in the Man Cave. Eiji’s Man Cave, to be exact. That’s what it says on the big, wooden plaque hanging on the door, anyways. Fucking domestic son of a bitch.

“… because I told you it would make her uncomfortable, and you still— Katsuki!” Momo gasps as she notices him heading down the stairs, her back straightening instantly, those feline eyes of hers widening as if she’d been caught stealing the Declaration of Independence. Kirishima on the other hand, looks relaxed as he sits at his bar, even swings on his bar stool and laughs a little when he meets his friend’s eyes.

“Can’t go in the kitchen, can’t come down here; fuck, where can I go?” Katsuki grumbles, skulking past them to open the bar fridge, taking a bottle of jack and coke by the neck.

“That bad up there?”

“Eijorou.” Momo hisses.

“What?”

“Nah, he’s right; I shoulda just not come.” He slams the fridge door and takes a step towards the bar, pops the lid off the bottle on the edge of the countertop, and takes a swig. “Are you two down here talking shit about me too?”

“Nah, Momo’s worried about Mina.”

“Oh, she’s a no-show?”

“Yeah, apparently she and Jirou—“

“Eijirou!”

“Who’s Kats gonna tell?” The redhead shrugs, and Katsuki isn’t sure if he should be honoured or offended at the face Momo makes as she processes the question.

So, the blonde breaks the silence. “Mina and Jirou?”

“Yeah.” Kirishima nods, clearly seeing the funny side of the situation.

“Damn.”

“Yep.” The redhead swigs his beer.

Momo sighs, fretting. “And now you’re uncomfortable because Ochako invited—“

“Nah, it’s whatever.” Katsuki shrugs. “I can be a big boy when I need to be.”

Kirishima laughs. “Wouldn’t be family dinner without my best friend.”

“That’s my cue to leave.” Momo almost clicks her tongue, but there’s a bit of a cheeky grin beneath that roll of her eyes.

“Aw, baby—”

“Knock, knock…” your voice calls from the top of the stairs, knuckles rap on the dense doorframe.

Katsuki and Kirishima exchange a look, Momo catches it, but calls you down anyway, “We’re here! Come on down.”

Your heels clack on the wooden stairs, and when you finally make it into the basement— according to Katsuki, anyways— your big smile lights up the room. “This is where the cool kids are hiding, huh?”

“Not anymore,” Katsuki grumbles, glare fixed on you.

There’s a moment that hangs heavy in the air when you meet his stare, but to his surprise, you don’t seem affected by him. “Mean,” you grin. “Still so mean, Bakugo.”

“Nah, not really,” Kirishima slides from his seat, wraps an arm around Momo. “Promise he’s a little mellowed out since college.”

Your brows shoot up a little, then you’re chuckling. “I don’t know, I’d have to see it to believe it.” You press, poking the proverbial bear. Katsuki doesn’t have time to snark back, though, because you keep talking. “Dinner’s ready, but it feels weird to start eating without the hosts, y’know?”

“Oh, gosh!” Momo almost jumps out of her skin, wriggling out of Kirishima’s grip to wrap a hand around his thick wrist, tugging him towards the stairs. “No, no, of course; we’re coming up now, c’mon you two.”

But Katsuki gruffly stands his ground, “I’ll be up in a sec; eat without me.” Momo and Kirishima give him a look, but disappear up the stairs anyway. “Still can’t take a hint, huh?” He grumbles, blood pressure rising with each step you take towards the bar, towards him.

“Mm, pretty sure that’s you,”

“You’re still shit at assumptions too; go figure.”

You snort laughter, “Promise I’m good at other things.”

The innuendo isn’t lost on him, nor is the flutter of your lashes, the swing of your hips. He takes a swig of Jack and hates himself for dragging his heavy stare down your body.

Ugh, you’re still his type, too. Or maybe his type is just whatever you are.

“Don’t think Iida will be too impressed about you cornering me in someone else’s basement.” He snips, keeping the bar between you.

Your nose crinkles. “Pass me a drink?” You ask, shimmying up to sit on the stool Kirishima was sitting on. He doesn’t ask what you want, already knows your preference. “Thanks,” you smile when he hands it to you. “Iida and I aren’t like that, by the way; we just live in the same apartment complex.”

“Didn’t ask.” He huffs back.

“Mm, you kinda did though?”

“Go back upstairs.”

“But you’re down here.”

“That’s the reason you need to go back upstairs.”

“But I came here to see you.” The cheekiness in your quips are gone now, eyes on the bottle resting between your hands on the bar in front of you.

He sighs, watching you fiddle with the label on the bottle as he takes another sip. “I’ll come up later.”

Your frown is acidic when you glare back up at him. “It took me a lot of courage to come down here and talk to you, and you’re just gonna push me away?”

A scoff. “Courage?”

Another glare. “Yes, courage. You’re not an easy person to approach, Katsuki.” Katsuki. Your eyes are back on the bottle, fingers peeling the label from the glass slowly, your nervous energy wafting off you in waves now that your bravado is gone. “I’ll always be so stupid when it comes to you, won’t I?”

His heart breaks a little then, because he’s not being honest, and you are. He’s hiding and avoidant, while you’re seeking him out, trying. You were always trying, even back then. Why can’t he just talk to you? What’s so hard about being honest about wanting something; about wanting you?

“I won’t come again, don’t worry.” You mumble, sliding from the stool. “God, you’re such an ass, you know that?”

“Why then?” He snaps, jaw clenching. You blink at him, shocked at his outburst. “Why me? You’re so… so much better than me.” He admits, throat tightening up. Which you are. You’re the full moon at midnight, the sun high in the sky at midday; a beacon of light and love and happiness despite everything you’ve been through. Too good for him; his darkness threatened to swallow you up. “We didn’t make sense then, and we won’t make sense now.”

He’s not looking at you— he can’t— but he knows you haven’t left, can sense you standing there on the other side of the bar. His heart races, fists and teeth clenching, as he breathes slowly through his nose, trying to regulate his emotions, doing his goddamn best to stay in control of himself. You don’t know how much you haunt him, how much he wishes he could touch you, smell you, hear you sing all of those stupid fucking songs you used to sing.

You’re the reason he hates Spotify.

“That’s it?” You ask softly. He can hear how choked up you are, knows you’re trying to keep it together. You’re emotional about everything; the last time he saw you in person you were crying. “We don’t make sense? What makes sense in your head, Katsuki? Who do you wanna be with? And if you say no one, I swear to god, I’m gonna punch you in the face.”

He opens his mouth to yell something back, but there’s a click at the top of the stairs— the door closing. It scares you, has you twisting around, taking a few steps towards the staircase and ducking your head to look up for the noise. He watches you as you stand up straight, as you fix your hair, fold your arms.

“Even they think we need to sort our shit out.” You sound calmer, maybe a little embarrassed, but more put together. Maybe you weren’t gonna cry after all.

Katsuki finishes his drink, walks a few steps to the recycling box and places his bottle in, then heads to the fridge for another. “You up?”

You don’t answer him right away, but when you do, you’re sliding back onto the barstool. “Sure.”

This is good, better. If you were to have had this conversation a couple of years ago, he’s sure it’d be a screaming match.

He pops the lid off his bottle, then yours, rounds the counter to take the seat next to you. “Here,” he mutters, sliding it into your waiting hands.

“Thanks,” you whisper, unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t wanna fight, I just—“

“No, I know.” He says, probably a little too loudly. “I know; it’s okay.”

Then you sit in silence for a while; drinking and being in each other’s space. Katsuki would be lying if he said he hated the quiet, but he also needs to step up, needs to explain himself to you and lay all of his cards out on the table.

You seemed to have the same idea. “Katsuki—“

“I’m too messed up to make you happy.” He admits, cutting you off. He turns to you, resists the urge to grab onto you; your hand, your thigh, your shoulder. “The sludge villain, the league, Shigaraki, AFO— I don’t want you living your life on eggshells, you know? I have nightmares, paranoia, I’m a fucking asshole. You’re too bright for me, princess.” The pet name slips out, and your bottom lip trembles.

“You told me you didn’t have time for me.” You recall, watery stare locked on him. “You said you were busy, and you needed to focus on your career, and you couldn’t with me around. That I’m annoying.”

“I didn’t say you’re annoying.” He can’t help the way his eyes roll.

You’re adamant. “Yes you did.”

“I said it’s annoying when you cry—“

“I have feelings, Katsuki—“

“I had to push you away, or you’d waste yourself on me.” He spits, running a hand over his face. He can feel the raised scar on his cheek, the scratch of stubble on his jaw. He’s not what he used to be, who he used to be; but you? You’re perfect to him. Lovely. “All of this, all of you… it’s wasted on a guy like me.”

“Kiss me.” You demand, dead serious.

“Hah?” He gawks, spinning his stool to face you.

“Kiss me, and if you still feel like you don’t want me, I’ll leave you alone.” You’re determined; determined, and gorgeous, and ridiculous.

“It’s not that—“

“If you can push me away, I’ll let you. I’ll let you, okay? I promise.” You’re sliding from your stool, hands on his knees, bracing yourself to attack.

He blushes. “S-stupid, I said—“

But you’re already snaking between his legs, already pushing up and knocking your nose against his, your eyes positively sparkling before they flutter closed, before your lips ghost his, and your fingers bunch in his t-shirt. His internal struggle ceases the instant you hum your content against his mouth, his heart prevailing over his brain, selfishness winning out. If this is what you want: broken, desperate, hopeless him; then, that’s what you’re gonna get.

He pulls you impossibly closer, his hands meeting behind your back, pushing at the fabric of your sweater to get to warm skin, to feel your softness against his fingertips. Tongues meet tentatively, before the languidness loses out to desperation and your fingers are in his hair, tugging him closer, pushing your chests together, and his hands are travelling north, unclasping your bra, pushing that sweater up, up, up.

He breaks the kiss, stands and lifts you onto the bar by your thighs, lips finding the skin of your jaw, teeth nipping the thin skin of your neck. “You’re impossible,” he breathes, watching with hungry eyes as your flushed face breaks into the most perfect smile he’s ever seen.

The power you hold over him is ridiculous.

“Katsuki, c’mere,” you whisper, suddenly sultry, siren eyes tempting him through thick lashes.

Hesitation gone, he presses his forehead against yours, grips the hem of that sweater and searches your eyes for any signs of uncertainty before pulling it over your head, bra going with it. You gasp and cover yourself, laughing, before he gently pries your hands away, intertwines your fingers and kisses you again. More slowly this time, more surely; grips your hands and maps out your lips, your jawline, earlobes, the column of your neck.

You squirm as the cotton of his shirt rubs against your chest, as he takes his time relearning your skin, getting used to your taste, revelling in being with you like this.

“‘S is embarrassing…” you whine, unable to move, unable to cover up.

“This is what you signed up for, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your skin, feeling you, tasting you.

Finally.

“But this isn’t really… where, y’know?” You breathe, not wanting to be the voice of reason, but needing to be.

Oh, right, the dinner party.

“Lemme just—“ he lets your fingers go, runs his hands up your sides and presses into the softness of your breasts, watching you watch his fingers as they tease your nipples, as they sink into flesh. You writhe and whimper, and he kisses you quiet, but it’s not enough. He needs to feel you more carnally, wants to draw out all of the sounds he used to, wants to discover more; needs to show you how much he wants you, how much he needs you.

But now’s not the time, and his impatience is a blooming rose in his chest: beautiful but full of thorns.

Your hands find his wrists, stopping him. “This means you’re taking me back, right? I’m not imagining this, am I?” Your eyes shine with unshed tears and he wonders how he was ever strong enough to push you away, to deny you anything.

“If you’re sure you want this, it’s yours.” The sincerity in his voice even shocks him, and your eyes wide at his admission.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You nod, gripping his face like he might disappear, before wrapping your arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest. “I’m more than sure.”

“Then I’ll be in your care.” He whispers, kissing your hair, soothing his hands down your back and once again desperately admitting you to memory.

He’s not sure just how long he just stands like that, how long he holds you against his chest and pets at your skin, your hair; but soon, there’s a knock at the door, and Kirishima’s calling out a tentative, “Hello?”

You prickle against his skin, terrified eyes stare up at him.

Then its a panicked scramble to get your bra back on, your sweater pulled over your head.

“I’ve been sent down to referee this meeting,” he calls loudly, heavy feet descending the staircase slowly. “Though, it was kinda a hung parliament. You know the rule: we don’t talk about fight club.” He laughs at his own joke, but is silenced by the scene he finally walks in on. You’re both sitting on stools again, nursing your drinks, looking over your shoulders at him, as if you’re surprised to see him in his own den.

“Hey, Eiji,” you smile, face suddenly falling. “Oh, dinner.” You slap Katsuki on the arm gently, as if it’s his fault the two of you aren’t up there. Which… kinda is, kinda isn’t. “Let’s go.” You grab your drink and slide off your stool, but Katsuki stops you, gently pulls the neck of your sweater up to cover your bra strap.

The intimacy would be impossible to miss.

“Th-thanks,” you flush, holding his stare for a moment, before he lets you go, and you’re scurrying past Kirishima like a mouse escaping a cat.

Katsuki waits until he can’t hear your footsteps anymore before actually turning to his friend. “We had an adult conversation.” He admits, trying not to seem too pleased with himself.

Kirishima regards him with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve got lipstick on your fang.” The redhead laughs as Katsuki blushes, as he scrubs at his teeth with his tongue, then a finger. “I was kidding; c’mon, I saved you a seat and forbade anyone to talk about this at the dinner table.”

Katsuki grabs his drink, meets Kirishima at the bottom of the stairs. “You forbade them?”

He shrugs, “Momo did; I just like the word.”

“We kissed.” Katsuki blurts, face hot.

Kirishima’s eyes bug out of his skull, before he claps him on the shoulder, and beams down at him. “You good?”

He he breathes for a moment, calms his hammering heart. “Yeah, perfect.”

“Hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Good.”