Call Me Missy

‘Let’s get cracking then, shall we?’

‘Are you leaving your hair down?’ It tumbles off your tongue too easily, almost betraying the desperation that lingers under the vowels.

‘Oh, shit.’ He flushes. ‘Forgot about that.’

Watching Kirishima do anything is a religious experience, but this, this is the most holy.

Stretching up enough to expose a slither of broad, hairy stomach Kirishima teases his hair up into a messy bun. His roots are growing through, staining his scalp a dark black that spreads from his crown and makes it’s way almost an inch through the otherwise red mane. Flashes of grey join the mix, spiralling from his temples and lacing their way through from his hair line. His mouth tugs down slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he concentrates, twisting his fingers and snapping a hairband into place. ‘There, that’s better, huh?’

You resist the urge to sigh, biting your tongue in favour of tossing him a smile. It's too early to come on strong yet. Men like Kirishima take time and care to seduce and you’ve already come too far to get over excited and ruin it now.Waiting patiently, you step aside clearing a path for him to get to the door.

‘What the fuck did you do to this?’ Straightening from his stoop by the lock, he steps back rubbing at the nape of his neck.

‘Is it that bad?’

‘Well a driver’s definitely not gonna fix it, that’s for sure.’

‘So what happens now?’

He chews the inside of his cheek and huffs. ‘Well I’m gonna have to replace the lock, that’s for sure… And I’m gonna insist that I make your replacement keys this time.'

You blink, lacing your hands together in front of you. ‘I thought you didn’t make the keys...’

‘I don’t. Boys in the shop usually handle that.’ He smiles. ‘But I’ll make an exception for you.’

Your cunt throbs. He’s going to be making a lot more exceptions today if you’ve anything to do with it, but this sure is a start. ‘You’re gonna make think I’m special if you carry on like that.’

He chuckles, something dark echoing in his eyes as he winks. ‘Wouldn’t want that now, would we?’

‘Course not.’ You pop a hip, eyes burring into the side of his head.

‘Right…’ He coughs, shaking the glowing redness from his cheeks. 'I'm gonna grab a drill and pop that lock off, get you back in where it's warm.'

Tongue flicking out to wet your lip, you try and rub your thighs together as subtly as possible while his back is turned. Just watching him has you wet, hopelessly soaking through the thin lace thong you'd slipped on before locking yourself out. The thrum of your heartbeat is steady as it descends to your cunt, making you clench around nothing when he returns, bicep straining as he takes the drill to the lock and pushes.

The lock breaks easily. In a matter of seconds, there's a hole in the metal and he's digging away with the screwdriver, scattering silver shavings onto the floor. In another few, the drill groans and he reels back, swiping at his brow before the door creaks open with a push. 'There you are...'

'You...' Slinking over to him, you make sure to press your whole palm to the back of his neck and rub your thumb over the artery while you purr a soft '...are my hero.' His pulse picks up under your touch, but you don't comment on it, or the flush back in his cheeks when you slip past the half-open door and totter towards the kitchen.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, you slip your hand under the lip of your skirt. As soon as the pad of your finger grazes your covered clit, you hiss. You're soaking and sensitive, almost mewling at the slightest pressure and you've not even got your hands on him yet. Taking a moment to breathe, you count to twenty and then breeze back down the hall.

Outside, Kirishima is on his knees, fiddling with the now broken lock. His eyes pick up when he hears you coming and trail up from your ankles to your hips, until they finally, finally settle on your face.

Being looked at by him feels good, even if he's still trying to dampen the excitement you know you see swimming in his smile. 'Want a cuppa?'

He hisses. ''M not gonna say no.'

Pausing, you smirk at him, enjoying how he looks on his knees in front of you. 'I know how you like it.'

Kirishima takes his tea milky, with no sugar and that's exactly how you make it. Stirring the liquid gently, you slip the cups, as well as a small plate of biscuits, onto the small kitchen table and lean on the door frame. 'Tea's ready...'

Poking his head in through the front door, his eyebrows knit on his forehead. All the other times he’s been called out to one of your, frankly a little worrying lock issues, you’ve brought his cup to him; usually accompanied by a biscuit or two. Still, he gets to his feet, jams the door shut and smooths down his jeans before stepping over the into the house all the same. ‘Guess I could do with a quick five minutes..

‘Course…’ You don’t stop the smile that rises to your lips when he slips onto one of the kitchen chairs. He looks good there, settled down with his meaty shoulders stretched back. ‘Been a busy day?’ You take a seat opposite him and wrap your hand around a cup of tea you know you won’t drink

‘Not too bad…’ He sighs, points at the small spread of biscuits you’d already laid out on the table. ‘These for me?

Shoving the plate towards him, you smirk. ‘Take anything you want…’

‘Too good to me, you are…’ Swiping a digestive from the plate, he crunches through it with ease, moaning around the mouthful. It’s almost domestic with you swapping mindless chatter as he watches your eyes rest on the bump of his lower lip when he talks. You probably think you’re being subtle. You’re not. No-one breaks their lock five times in the same month accidentally. Hell, the third time it had only been missing a screw. Not that any of that mattered. It’s not the first time some sweet, young thing has attempted to con him into bed, but he has to admit, he’s quite enjoyed being the object of your affections. Most take him for a nice guy, which he is, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid and he’s more than willing to play along with your silly little game for a bit longer, just to make you think you’ve really worked him over. Then, then he’ll show you who's really in control

Leaning your elbows on the table, you push out your tits. A warmth spreads through your stomach when you catch him looking, stirring up the already insatiable desire inside of you. ‘No such thing as too good for you…'

Bringing the cup to his lips, he take three, big swallows and pops it back onto the table. Maybe he was bored of waiting after all. The look of your tits pushed up, just begging to be groped and kneaded has him already filling his jeans and testing his patience. It’s time to see just how far you’re willing to go to keep him. ‘Right…’ Standing with a groan, he yanks at his belt making sure you can see the thick outline of his cock in his jeans. ‘Best get cracking then…’

You’re on your feet instantly, losing him now would be a slap in the face.. ‘You haven’t finished your tea.’

‘Don’t want to intrude…’ He bites back a smile.

‘You’re not… You could never -.’

‘It’s okay, love, honestly I -.’

‘Honestly…’ You croon and arc your eyebrows. Time for something a little more forward, then. ‘I don’t think you should be going anywhere with that.’ Letting your eyes sink down his body, you rest you gaze pointedly on his crotch.

Mustering his best fluster, he swallows thick before covering himself with a large palm. ‘I - uhh… I should -.’

‘I think,’ you purr. ‘That we should stop pretending.’

‘P-pretending?’

‘I’ve seen the way you look at me, Kirishima.’ You cock your head. ‘Seen the way you stare - you got hard just looking at my tits -.’

He lets his eyes flicker to the floor. 'I’m just going to leave. I can have someone else come look at your door for you.’ It’s a lie. He wouldn’t let anyone from the shop near you, least of all their other smith. He’s already had to threaten Bakugo to keep him away, but you don’t have to know any of that.

‘C’mon… Don’t you want to try…’ Your fingers slip down your thighs, tugging gently on the lip of your skin and dragging it up, up, up

He snaps before he gets the chance to see cunt. ‘No.’

Clenching your jaw, you haul in a breath. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be reduced to this, but he's so close you can almost taste him. ‘You...' Your bottom lip wobbles, eyes filling with crocodile tears as you toy with the hem of your shirt. 'You don't want me?'

'Oh, shit.' His eyes go wide immediately. Boy, he really was getting a show, wasn’t he? This might be his favourite one yet. You look adorable with those worry lines etched into the bridge of your nose, with the panic barely there in your voice. 'It's – don't, don't cry, you're too pretty to cry, c'mon.'

Sniffling, you chew gently on the side of your lip and stare at the floor for just long enough that your bottom lids are still full when you look at him. 'You think I'm pretty?'

A broken sigh leaves his throat as the muscle in his jaw ticks. 'You're beautiful...'

You swallow, batting your eyelashes. 'So - so why don't you want me then?'

Oh God, you are desperate aren’t you. His cock twitches, anxious to see just how desperate he can make you. Would you cry? You’d look so good with real tears glittering on your pretty little face, your lips rosy and kiss sore. Maybe you’d even beg… 'I -.'

Pushing forward, you press your tits to his chest finally bridging the gap between you. It feels good, to have him pressed against you like this. With a pout on your lips, you tilt your head, looking him dead in the eye. 'I want you…’ You lick you lips, tilt your head exposing the smooth stretch of your neck. 'Its not hard to tell that you want it, too...

'Sweetheart.' He grips your shoulders, but quickly lets his palms skate down your arms to wrap around your wrists. 'Listen, I -.

'You could have me. I'd let you. I'd let you do anything you wanted to...' You can see the moment his resolve crumbles, see the flash of something eclipse his face when he takes a steady breath and you know: you've won

'You're fucking killing me here, you know that, right?' Shaking his head, he lets his fingers slip into yours, locking you together.

'Oh.' You flick your tongue over your teeth, swallowing a gasp when you feel the hard bar of his cock press into your stomach. 'I know.' Pushing up on your tiptoes, you lean in taking the momentary lapse in his defences to catch his lips with yours. You wiggle one of your hands free and flatten it against his collarbone. His skin burns under yours as you let your palm skate over the plush fat of his pec. Groping at him, you smile against his lips when he gasps as the heel of your hand catches the pebbled round of his nipple. 'You want this... Want me so bad it hurts, doesn't it?'

Groaning into your mouth, he uses his now free hand to take a hold of the fat over your hip. He lets you lick into his mouth, moves with the sways of your body as you push him back, crowding him against the counter.

'C'mon...' You pull back, peppering his jaw with kisses that trail to his neck. Scraping your teeth across his skin, you nip the lobe of his ear. 'Let go.'

A chuckle bubbles in his throat, the grip on your hip tightening as he wrestles his other hand free to cup your cheek. 'You want me to let go?'

Nodding, you can feel your cunt drool, desperate for this new fire in his eyes. You kiss his jaw, licking up the muscle that ticks under your tongue. 'Want it... Want it bad, Kirishima.'

'Oh...' His fingers scratch at your skin as he manoeuvrers you to face him, bumping your noses together. 'I know you do...' This time, it's Kirishima who leans in. He kisses you to bruise and tugs at your lip, pressing his cock firmly against your cunt before reeling back to smile at you. 'You've been wanting it so badly you've been making up reasons to get me to come back, haven't you Sweetheart?'

The air leaves your lungs, veins turning cold as you realise your game is up. 'You – you knew?'

'You're not the only pretty little thing that wants a piece of me.' He snickers pressing a single kiss to the turn of your jaw. 'And you haven't exactly been subtle.'

'I -.' You flush, scrutinised under his accusation. It sends you skittering for an excuse, makes you feel like a school girl caught in a lie and trying to cover it up.

He tuts. 'Don't lie. I've seen you...' Biting at the junction of your shoulder, he laps away the sting. 'Been hard not to.'

Swallowing hard, your head swims when he wraps his arms around you, large hands coming to cradle your ass as he hauls you up. A squeak escapes your throat.

'You want my cock here, or would you rather I fuck you stupid somewhere more comfortable?'

'Bed... Bedroom's upstairs on the left.' Your legs squeeze at his waist, knees digging into his ribs as he pecks your cheek and laughs, starting off back down the hall with you still wrapped around him.

There's a new edge to his voice now. A silky softness he reserves only for the likes of you. 'And here I was thinking you wouldn't wait. Thought I'd be bending you over that table with how desperate you've been acting...'

Something sears in your stomach. This is what you'd wanted: him. And yet, the sudden shift still has you in a tail spin, has you groping at his back and whining so pretty in his ear. The desperation that had driven you to break your own lock to see him again bubbles in your stomach, spilling over until you can feel it's burn in your throat. ''m not desperate.'

He stops, feet barely touching the bottom stair of the stair case. There's no hint of condescension to his tone when he speaks, just a deep rumbling chuckle that seeps underneath 'Okay.'

'You want me.' You pull back, lacing your hands behind his neck as you search for the shred of self-respect you'd lost with him calling you out in the kitchen. Maybe you're looking for a fight, a re-establishment of control, but as soon as you meet his eye, you know you're not going to get it. In fact, you're not sure you ever had it to begin with.

'I do.' He smiles, leaning in close before breathing across your cheeks. 'Doesn't make you any less desperate though.'

Whining you grind you cunt against him and bite your lip before accusing: 'You like it.'

Another smile. 'It looks good on you.'

There's something about the honesty in his voice that makes your cunt clench, makes your nails dig into his shoulders and a shiver break out down your spine. If he wants desperate, you'll give him desperate. You'd give him anything he wants. 'Kirishima...'

He presses a soft kiss to your lips and then, he's moving again and carrying you upstairs. Shouldering open the bedroom door, he sinks into the mattress and brings you down with him. With your legs now straddling his waist, your forced to feel the heat from his cock again. It presses to your clit, the rough denim of his jeans itching just enough to make you needy, but not enough to give you any friction.

Reaching up, he takes your chin in his hand. 'You gonna be good for me?'

You mewl, nodding – all evidence of your earlier confidence trickling from your body as you're held still with large hands.

'Say it for me. I need to know you mean it.'

''m gonna be good... I – I promise.' Rocking against him, you whine when he drops your chin in favour of gripping your hips and stopping your movements.

He hums, slipping your further off his lap until you're forced onto your knees on the floor. 'Think you should prove it to me.' There's a rough edge to his voice when he clears it, fixing you with a stare as he issues his first command. He pops the top button of your blouse. 'Off.’

Instantly, you’re stripping the offending article from your skin, anxious to feel the burn that you know will come with him looking at you.

‘Woah.’ Hands shooting out, he prises one of your hands from the material before letting out a soft: ‘slowly.’

Stomach clenching, you slow your movements. The last of the buttons on your shirt pop open easily, exposing a broad slither of your chest to him.

‘Pretty.’ He sighs under his breath. ‘Keep going.’

You do, slipping one shoulder out before peeling the garment from the other. Left bare as the blouse falls to the floor, you resist the urge to cover yourself already predicting the big hands that would come to pull you away.

Leaning forward, a finger slinks down your body, running between your collarbones and along your sternum before hooking under the front of your bra. ‘This too… Let me see.’

Reaching behind yourself, the clasp comes away easily letting the thing fall onto your knees.

He sucks air over his teeth and spreads his legs, shifting his hips on the bed. ‘Now. Take off my belt.’

It's sickening how quick you are to obey. You reach for him, anxious hands gripping the leather of the belt before you begin to gently unlatch it from his waist. As soon as the buckle falls open, you lift it from from his hips and deposit it onto the floor.

'Now my jeans.' Leaning further back, he rests his weight onto his arms. 'Quick, now.'

Saliva pools in your mouth as you get to work on the button of his jeans. It pops open under your fingers, the zip creaking down on it's own as the half-hard cock underneath is allowed to stretch out. You loop your fingers under the hem, waiting for him to lift his ass from the bed so you can rid him of the item entirely.

'Good girl...'

The praise makes your cunt flutter and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop the faint moan from leaking from your throat. From your seat between his thighs, you've got a perfect view of his cock. It strains his underwear, wetting the material where the tip leaks against it. Head dipping down, he doesn't stop you when you lick a single, long strip along his covered length.

His eyes bulge, chest heaving as a groan echoes in his throat. Shifting his hips, he searches for a new comfort on the mattress, but stops his wiggling when you slowly begin to peel his boxers down his legs.

You're barely able to get a clear peak of his cock, before he's wrapping his hands around your wrists to stop you.

'Not yet...' He huffs, dropping one of your wrists to cup your cheek. He draws a thumb to your lip, the heat from your skin radiating through his digit. Then, he grins, patting his thigh. 'Up here, c'mon.'

You stand on shaky legs and straddle his thigh, tucking your knees under yourself to allow you to hover centimetres over him. His hands fall back to your waist, rough palms pressing into your sides as they encourage you down. As soon as your cunt presses to his skin, you feel it. A buzz inches it's way up through your stomach and rests there, making your cunt pulse, anxious for the friction you hope comes next.

His lips ghost your neck. Nipping at your throat, he pulls you forward before his palm urges you back again. 'There you are... Look at you, huh? So pretty riding my thigh aren't you? Knew you'd look pretty like this from the moment I saw you.'

Slick soaks your underwear. Already wet lace becomes sodden, coating his skin, but it does little to stop him. Each urged thrust of your cunt against his thigh makes you keen. Your clit catches his skin, drags along the solid muscle and ignites a fire in your core so hot it hurts. ‘Kirishima - I - Ah.’

He soothes you with a kiss, devours your whimpers and lifts his thigh, pressing against your clit as he grinds you down ‘You gonna cum? Gonna cum on my thigh just like this?’ He smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Teetering on the edge, your head snaps back as the crest of your orgasm hits you. You’re limp, shaking as he takes full control and urges you over the thick muscle of his thigh a few more times, prolonging your high in every way he can.

He chuckles when you finally come down and rest your head in the crook of his neck. ‘Don’t tell me you’re done. I was just getting started… Or can’t you keep up with an old man like me, eh?’

You wriggle, grimacing at the wetness beneath you. Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your chest flush to his. ‘Want more.’

‘Yeah? You sure…’ His fingertips dance down your spine, tickling the skin just enough to make you arch into him. ‘Think you can take it?’

‘I - I can take it. Want it.’

‘Good.’ Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, he leaves you chasing him as he pulls back, wrapping his arms around you again to lift you up. When he drops you to the mattress, he comes down over the top of you and cages you in between thick arms.

‘Off.’ You reach up, clutch at the neck of his shirt and tug. He’s still far too dressed for your liking, and you want the heat of his chest pressed bare to yours.

He snickers, yanking the item off with a single hand gripping the back of his collar. ‘Better?’

You nod. ‘Better.’ Despite cumming only moments before, your whole body thrums for him. The idea of being filled, of having a cock obviously too large for you little cunt inched inside of you makes you want to scream. You’d pictured this. Pictured him fucking into you, pictured it so many times the real thing almost felt like a dream, but before you can slip from reality, he’s there pressing a kiss to your cheek. ‘Feel empty....’ You whine and wriggle your hips, trying desperately to rub yourself against his clothed cock. Every nerve in your body is screaming, tensed and burning with something close to insanity as you lift your hips and press in close. You manage two passes at most, catch you clit on his boxers for only a second before a large hand is pressing against your stomach and forcing you back down to the mattress.

He chuckles, eyes glossy and blown as he admires just how beautiful you look spread out under him. Usually, he doesn’t indulge in the sweet things that chase after him. He bores easily, but you, you were special. Leading him on, carefully crafting a little scheme to lure him into bed. It’s been a little while since he’s enjoyed the thrill of a little game like this, but now he has you: he’s going to ruin you for any other man you might try and lure in next. ‘What d’you want?’

You pout and try again to grind against him, seeking the friction you need.

‘C'mon, you where so persuasive before and now look at you... Can't even ask for my cock?’ Tone hard and unwavering, he slips your underwear and skirt from your legs before a pair of broad hands skim up the outside of your thighs, only to hook under your knees and push. He presses your legs back, gently testing the stretch as your knees brace your ears before focusing back on you. ‘Tell me what you want.'

Your heart hammers in your chest, ribs almost fractured under each heavy beat. ‘Fuck me... Please -.’

He snickers, licks his lips and rubs himself over your clit making you keen. Letting one of your legs rest back against a meaty shoulder, he frees one of his hands and toys with the lip of his underwear. With a smooth yank, he pulls down the elastic of his boxers letting his cock spring free as he tucks the material under his balls. His cock is thick, with a series of large purpling veins protruding from the tanned skin and a ticket of wiry, black hair at its base. The head is flushed, splayed wildly and an angry red that is just off set by the pearled white of the pre-cum leaking from it. Taking his cock in his hand, he grips the base and lines himself up to your entrance.

He’s so close you can feel his heat, feel just how close he is to filling you. Your cunt flutters in anticipation, but he doesn’t push in.

‘Beg for it.’ He locks eyes with you as he says it, using his weight to keep you pressed down.

Throwing pride to the wind, you arch your back babbling. ‘Please, need you, want your cock - Please...’ With each needy ‘please’ that falls from your lips, he pushes in slightly. The tip of his cock has barely breached your cunt before your clamping down, struggling with the stretch, but God it feels perfect.

‘You can do better than that. Come on.’ He stops, lets you whine and wriggle trying to fuck yourself on his length, but he’s pinning you down harder before you can get any real rhythm. ‘Beg for it. Or, you can watch me fuck my hand.’

‘Please...’ It’s almost a scream. Your cunt and throat spasm, nerves burning and needy. ‘Fuck me, fuck me - please. Need you so bad, need it, can’t - please... just want, want you. It hurts - it -.’ Tears prick your eyes, chest heaving as it all becomes too much.

He rocks against you, testing the resistance your body gives and then, bottoms out in one smooth, harsh thrust. ‘Good girl - Fuck. Sounds so pretty - so pretty…’

You swear you see God when he keeps his hips flush to yours forcing your body to submit to his size. The muscles in your legs tick, tensing and releasing as your whole body screams. He feels even bigger than he looks, and he’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever taken. ‘Big - too big. It’s -.’ Wriggling, you try and shift up the bed, but he's already there to stop you. 'It's – deep... I – Ah.'

‘Shh, I know Sweetheart. I know.’ He breathes it in your ear and kisses your cheek, a groan swelling in his chest as he tries to battle the pulsing of his balls that threatens an early end, but he doesn’t pull out, not even a little. You’re fluttering around him, struggling as he moulds your insides to fit. ‘Breathe for me… C’mon. You said you could take it...’

Sucking in a few shallow breaths, the dull pulsing of your cunt begins to ebb adjusting to his cock. 'I – Fuck.. I can, I -.'

Towering over you like this, with his cock buried deep inside of you he feels like a man possessed. You're, so pliable and easy for him, taking what is obviously too much cock for your little cunt. ‘That’s it… That’s my girl.’

Your eyes flutter shut, a moan tripping off your tongue as he grinds into you. Wiry hair rubs at your clit, sending shock waves of pleasure up your spine and you buck, catching yourself against him again and again.

He puts a stop to wriggling here too with a palm splayed on your stomach. A smirk pulls at his lip. Lifting one of your hands, he slips it down until your palm cups the bulge his own hand had covered moments before. 'Feel that?'

As soon as you feel it, your cunt clenches violently. The feel of him pressing up through your skin, stretching you so perfectly that even your own body has yielded to let him makes something burn fiercely inside of you. You gasp. 'Oh fuck...'

Humming, he rocks into you making his cock press up against your palm and groans. ‘Want it?’

You’re begging again before you can even comprehend what you’re doing. It falls from your mouth like a prayer, but it’s just as soon lodged back in your throat when he starts fucking into you. His hips piston against yours driving is cock even deeper inside of you and you’re cumming before you know it, but he doesn’t stop and he won’t. Not until your cunt is full and puffy, your voice sore and you can’t beg any more.

''m not pulling out.' He growls in your ear, hips still smacking against yours. Whatever consequences occur can be dealt with later, there's no chance he's missing the opportunity to feel you quake under him while he fills you with everything he has.

Your arms wrap his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as your body shudders under his. His words cause molten lava to pool in your stomach. The idea of him filling you makes your stomach twist into knots and you arc up, before letting a sharp gasp leave your chest.

'Aha. You like that? Like the idea of me cumming so deep you can taste it?' Each breath leaves his mouth on a ragged groan as his thrusts begin to stutter. He cums with a grunt. The muscle in his stomach tenses, twitching as his head falls to your shoulder and his cock begins to pulse.

It kicks inside of you, pulsing, painting your insides white and causes a warmth to spread through your stomach.

'Shit...' He stays sheathed inside of you while his cock gives a final twitch and presses a series of warm pecks to your cheeks before lazily pressing his lips to yours. After a moment, he slips out of you, falling on his haunches to watch as his cum trickles back out of you. 'So fucking pretty...' Thumbing at your lips, he stretches out your cunt, giving him at better view.

'Kirishima...' Something squirms in your stomach as you fall under his scrutiny, but this time, you aren't mean with a stern glare or a hash tone.

He smiles, hands slipping up your legs to massage at your sore muscles. 'I've got you...' Crawling from the bed, he hooks a thumb towards the small door in the corner of your room and cocks an eyebrow. 'En suit?'

You hum, it's all you can do as your limbs ache and your cunt continues to gush warm cum onto the mattress. To your left, you hear him climb off the bed, hear his footstep enter and exit the bathroom and then, the mattress is dipping again.

'Gonna clean you up okay?' He's meticulous in his cleaning, rubbing over every inch of your body with the towel until he's fluffing your pillow and tucking you in under a blanket; the soiled covers already balled up in the washing basket he'd found in the bathroom.

You sigh in the new warmth and curl up, relaxing into the palm that cups your cheek. Opening one eye, you blink up at him as he perches on the edge of the bed. 'Stay?

He leans down, presses a kiss to your cheek bone. 'Can't Sweetheart, I'm on the clock.'

Something sours in your stomach at the prospect of him leaving. Burying your face into your pillow, you squash the whine awaiting in your throat before it can even breach your lips.

Dragging a thumb across your skin he snickers before standing. 'Don't pout, I still gotta get that door fixed, remember?'

You mourn his warmth when he finally makes a move to go, but you don't make any more fuss about him leaving. Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to him pluck his clothes from the floor and shrug himself back into them. Turning, he blows you a kiss, whispering a soft: 'Night, Sweetheart' before the door clicks shut and he's gone.

Kirishima plucks the tools from his belt and whistles to himself as he reloads the van. His t-shirt is crumpled from being thrown to your bedroom floor, his cock throbs and his hair is a mess, but none of that seems to bother him as he slams shut the lid of the tool box and slips something smooth and shiny in his back pocket.

Later, when you descend the stairs, your muscles sore and your cunt aching, you notice a set of keys laying on your mat. Dipping you snatch them from the floor and turn them over in your hand. You frown. Usually, there are three spares on a new set of keys... But, this one only has two.

Kaminari finds his gaze drifting, naturally, until he finds you. He's just keeping an eye on you. Or, at least that's what he's telling himself. He can see Sero looking too, and the occasional glances Bakugo spares you before he's twirled away and forced to break his line of sight. Mina, as well, he's seen it and even though Kirishima thinks he's being subtle, he's not.

He wonders which of them you want. Which you'd let take you home and touch, delicate, against your skin. You could have any of them, that much is for sure, but that doesn't stop the acidic burn that washes his throat when he thinks about his own odds. With friends like his, Kaminari has long since come to terms with always being the last choice.

'Kami!' You slip into the booth ass first and almost, almost, lose an inch of your gin. Righting the glass, you tap your shoulder playfully against his, reveling in the way the muscle of his bicep twitches with the contact.

Kaminari sighs, running a finger around the lip of his glass. At this point, he figures it'll just be less painful to beat you to the punch. 'So go on.' He fixes his smile back into place, erasing the edges of a frown and looks out at the mess of people on the dance floor. 'Who's your type?'

'Huh?'

'Which one?' He pretends to have already suffocated the wisp of hope alight in his chest and forces a chuckle up his throat. He wiggles his eyebrows at you while almost white-knuckling his drink. 'Because Sero'll take you home like yesterday, but he's got metal in his... Y'know, so if that's not your bag you might want to try one of the other two... Maybe, both?' He cocks his head, smirks without the mirth. 'Or, fuck, do you want Mina's number?' His intonation spikes towards the end, curiosity and panic bleeding into his tone.

'I don't want any of them...' You frown and shake your head, moving to lay a hand on his shoulder, but just before your fingers can play against the cuff of his t-shirt, he moves.

'C'mon. You don't have to play coy with me.' Shoulders tensing, he tries to steady the beating of his heart. The small fire in his chest is still kindling, burning hope bright and sure. Best not to let you touch him until it's extinguished then - he'd only be letting himself get the wrong idea. 'I am supposed to be the wingman and all that...'

'Kaminari.' His ignorance is endearing. There's a pinkness on his cheeks that makes you want to kiss them, but you'll have to get to the root of the reason he won't let you get close if you're looking to live out that fantasy.

Unperturbed, Kaminari continues on with each of his words stinging like small splinters wedged under his skin. It's not like he hasn't done this before, helped one of his friends hook up with the object of his desire, but you – you're different. He likes you. 'Personally, I'd say try your luck with Kirishima first if you're not up for handling a bit of a brat, Bakugo can be -.'

'Kaminari -.'

'And Mina! Well, Mina's...'

'Kaminari, I don't want any of them.'

Kaminari tenses. No. Don't do that. He doesn't want you to fan the flames, doesn't think he can take being swallowed alive by that fire tonight. The tone that lifts from his tongue is sharp, cracking like a whip between you. 'I said you don't have to do that -.'

It only makes you smile. 'Denki...' You coo. Then, when he tucks his chin to his chest, you lift it with a finger and force him to look: to see.

'Baby.'

'Huh?'

'I said.' You keep hold of his chin and make him watch your mouth as you speak, enunciating every word as clearly as you can. 'I don't want any of them...'

'Oh...' He nods despite having not digested any of your words. Until... His jaw drops, mouth rounding. 'Oh.'

The tip of his nose has pinkened, glowing soft in the dim lights of the club and his eyes are shining, golden half-moons bright as they flicker subconsciously from your eyes to your lips and then back again.

Cocking your head, you chuckle. 'You can't really expect me to buy that you don't know when you're being hit on?'

'I – Women don't usually...' He trails off as embarrassment coils low in his gut. Once upon a time, he'd fancied himself a ladies man, but by the end of high-school he'd been made aware that promiscuity was simply a dream for him. He'd been the last to lose his virginity and even then, he's pretty sure Camie fucked him out of pity. A familiar swirl of uneasiness whips around his stomach as the ever-present tendrils of insecurity wiggle and twist. 'I mean – Have you seen my friends?'

You snort, refusing to give him an inch. 'Have you seen yourself?'

You laugh and Kaminari thinks he'll never have to listen to music again. 'I don't – I'm not.'

Shaking your head, you press a finger to his lips and smirk. 'Mr. If I hear one more stupid thing fall out of your mouth I'm gonna have to kiss it.'

He chuffs before he's able to stop it, one million dull insults swelling in his chest. He never was good at saying the right thing and people have always been too keen to point it out. 'Gonna be kissing me a lot then.'

'Yeah?' A pleasant warmth spreads through your chest at the thought of stealing multiple of his kisses. It makes your shoulders tight and your stomach feel light.

Kaminari nods. 'They don't call me Dunce Face for -.'

You cut him off with a kiss. Just as you'd promised. It's a soft thing, a barely-there graze of lips, but he reels back from it almost breath-taken. Reaching up, you play with a strand of blond falling from his fringe and wait, patiently for his brain to catch up with the situation. Truth be told, you've had your eye on Kaminari for a while, but when even your blatant flirting at the last squad BBQ hadn't been enough to convince him of your interest, you'd decided to take more divisive measures.

An airy chuckle breaks Kaminari's lips. 'I might have to say stupid stuff more often, because – mmhmph.'

You kiss him again.

'I don't just get kisses when I say something stupid though, do I -.'

And again.

This time, he lets himself sink. He's still not really sure what's going on. Maybe one of the others put you up to this, to make this night one to remember – but, as your mouth migrates from his lips to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, and neck, he struggles to dwell on whatever scheme has lead to him being here. A dull pressure slips easily up his thigh, skating over the ripped denim of his jeans until he can feel your fingers curl at the join of his thigh. Spit sticks in his throat, his hands instinctively reaching out to touch, to curl around your arm and hip. 'I -.' He reels back with a heaving chest. The words tumbling from his mouth before he can catch them. 'I can't – don't – I don't want...'

You flinch back as if burnt.

The absence of your body crowding against his makes his entire chest feel cold, but he pushes on, tripping over his thoughts as he goes. 'I – fuck – Okay. So I think, I think you're... I think you're so fucking pretty, like wow, like holy shit you're – you're incredible, okay, but I don't... I can't, if you...' He looks down, then back up at where Sero is standing at the bar.

The other man looks at him, cocks an eyebrow and smirks, just enough to still seem nonchalant.

'If you're looking for a one night stand or something, then – then you're better off taking Sero home.' Squeezing an eye shut, he braces for impact – ignoring the pain that flares in his chest when he thinks of you slipping back out of the booth. He's gotten a taste now. He's not sure how he's supposed to ever forget about that.

'Kaminari, you fucking moron.' You blink and shake your head, ignoring the flittering anger that bubbles steady in your chest.

'Huh?' Cocking his head, Kaminari is almost wounded by the idea that – should he not feel as though he's just stumbled into something remarkably more serious – he'd be getting a kiss for whatever idiocy has just fallen out of his mouth.

You shove him. 'Who said I was just trying to fuck you – you -.'

'But -.'

'Do I really need to say it out loud? Do you want me to write it down? Text it to you?'

Kaminari feels something close to panic flood his veins as he watches disbelief wash clean over your features. 'I don't – When...'

'I could not have been any more obvious. I was practically falling over you at the barbecue. Kirishima's mums wouldn't stop saying how much of a cute couple we where...' Shaking your head, you widen your eyes and shout even louder over the music. '… You went along with it! I asked you to be my date to Bakugo's fucking award show last fucking week... I thought you -' A dizziness plants itself at the base of your skull. Honestly, you'd thought you'd been playing the long game. Convincing him of his worthiness, of your interest, but now... Now you're starting to think all of that energy might have gone to waste.

Kaminari blinks. 'You weren't just...' He swallows as something squirms in his stomach. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd misunderstood someone's intentions. Fuck, his and Momo's entire friendship is built off of the fact that he thought she'd been flirting with him and not just adopting him as some kind of awkward best-friend, who she could gossip with and put make-up on when she got bored. That had been one Hell of an awkward conversation. He can still remember how sweet she'd been when he'd slipped a hand onto her knee, how she'd cooed at him and apologised for giving him the wrong impression. It had been humiliating. Even if he did manage to swing a pretty amazing friend out of it.

'Just what?'

'Just being nice.'

You shake your head, still somewhat perplexed. 'No, Denki, I'm not just being nice. You ever see me pull that shit with anyone else?'

It feels as though someone has just doused gasoline onto the fire in his chest. Hope wraps itself around his lungs and squeezes until he has no other option other than to haul in a shallow breath. 'No.'

Huffing, you chew on your lip and fix him with a stare, eyebrows raising on your forehead. 'Exactly, and if I have my way, I'll be one Hell of a lot nicer.'

With his tongue stuck to the basin of his mouth, Kaminari summons the strength to mutter a soft: 'Really?' Already his body has broken out in a chill. Anticipation uses his spine as a ladder, causing the muscle of his back to tense and straighten his posture.

'Mmmhmm.' Leaning forward, you plant your elbows on the table and push your tits together. You don't miss how his Adam's apple bobs, or the way he finds himself unable to drag his eyes back up from your cleavage. 'So... You gonna let me be nicer to you, Kaminari?'

'It's – it's a bit of a mess, I – uh...'

You barely allow Kaminari to shut the door before you have him pressed against it. Your hands reach out to cup his face, fingers touching soft as they curl around the back of his neck and thread softly into the hair at the base of his skull. 'I don't care that you haven't cleaned up, Denki.'

He chuckles, disbelief and excitement mixing together in the basin of his throat as he his hands ball to fists at his sides. Static fills his joints. There's so much energy bubbling up inside of him that he doesn't quite know what to do with it. It zips through him, paralysing and energising in equal measure as he loses himself to your touch.

'I...' Swallowing, he leans forward until his forehead touches against yours. It grounds him, combines with the dull scratching of your nails on his scalp and lets him breathe. 'I really – Fuck, I can't believe this is happening.'

You laugh, eyes fluttering shut for a second as you bask in his gaze. You're not sure if he knows he's doing it, but Kaminari looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world. Large, luminescent irises highlight his adoration, spotlighting every inch of you as his eyes flicker from yours, to your lips, to the dip of your collarbones. 'Yeah...' You huff. 'Well best start believing.'

It's a messy stumble to his bedroom, a mix of uncoordinated limbs and hot, open-mouthed kisses. His hands are everywhere and greedy, grabbing at anything he can: the small of your back, your waist, your ass.

'Oh, shit...' He mumbles against your lips, already drunk and pulls back just enough to catch your eye. 'Is that...' Licking his lips he raises a hand to his own mouth and tests the stickiness there. 'Is that strawberry?'

Nodding, you subconsciously let your tongue dart out to taste. The gloss is barely tacky, almost gone from Denki's assault. Instead, you can see it on his lips – the faint shimmering of pale pink that glitters in the low light. If you kissed him again now, you're sure you'd be able to taste it too.

'It's nice.' He chuckles, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

Humming, you wrap a palm around the back of his neck and pull him in close, feeling his breath on your cheeks. 'Yeah?' It feels juvenile, getting butterflies over the evidence of your kiss, but there's no denying the pins and needles that perforate the insides of your lungs.

'Yeah....' There's a smile tugging at his lip. The steadily darkening of his cheeks suits him, makes the cool gold in his eyes stand out, alive and clear, against the burning plain of his features. What starts out as a small fire ignited on the high of his cheek bones is soon scorched earth across much of his nose, reaching to the peak of his chin. The joy makes him look boyish. Distractingly handsome as he erupts into another foray of half-digested laughter.

Leaning in, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and taste strawberries. It mixes with something harsher, the spirit he had been so easily tipping down his throat back in the club; but underneath the tart and fruit mixture all you can taste is undeniably: him.

It's a stray trainer and the edge of Denki's oddly coloured purple mattress that is your eventual undoing. You'd been too lost in each other to notice that the slow push of small steps backwards had run it's course, leaving little room for anything other than a fall.

You go down hard.

Denki hits the mattress first, his back concave, arms stretching up to pull you close before you'd even managed to feel the bite of the connection. He reaches up, brushing his fingers across your cheeks as if to check for injuries he knows you don't have.

'Isn't this the part where you ask me if it hurt when I fell?' You have to purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, but it doesn't work.

The noise is infectious, making him break out too. 'I don't know about you, but it fucking hurt me.'

Kissing his nose, you carefully spread your legs to bracket his hips and push up, until you can hover over him with your hands denting the mattress at either side of his head. 'Always knew you'd fall for me, eventually.'

He rolls his eyes, but blushes deeper. Cupping your chin, he rubs a thumb across your jaw. 'I never thought you'd fall too, though.'

'Less of that.' Sitting up, you playfully slap at his shoulder before letting your hands skate down the sides of his arms. When you reach his wrists, you take hold of him and list, encouraging his palms to find a place on your thighs. Shivering at his touch, you swallow a smile.

'Touch me.'

As soon as the hold on his wrists loosens, his hands start to shake. Left to his own devices he finds himself torn, eyes eating away greedily at your body as he decides just where to lay his hands first. 'Can I...' His voice shakes, nerves soaking into the back of his tongue as he hooks a finger around the top of your dress. 'Can I take this off?'

Rolling your shoulders, you nod. You can feel the flex of his stomach muscles underneath you as he curls himself into a half-crunch to reach you. His hands skate across your shoulders, fingers catching on the thin material of the straps as he gently, slowly, encourages them down your arms.

There's something caught in his throat as he watches the material slide. It slinks down your skin, stretching around the width of your shoulders before coming back together when you pinch your elbows in towards your core.

You let the material bunch around your waist, exposing your chest to the air as you perch In his lap. Already, the cold has your nipples pebbling, rising to the air as the faint buzz of arousal continues to make a mockery of your nervous system.

'Sh – Shit.' He breathes. His hands twitch into the air automatically, rising to hover over the ruched material of your dress. There's a desperation in his fingertips, a burning itch that has his ligaments twitching as he attempts to commit every inch of your body to memory.

'Hey...' Huffing air out of your nose, you press your palms to his. His fingers slot between yours easily, allowing you to squeeze tightly once before retracting your touch. Tensing your fingers, you don't have to encourage him much before he's taking a firm hold of your chest and smoothing his thumbs across the apex of your tits.

A shaky breath bullies it's way from Kaminari's mouth, the dull click of his throat audible as he swallows down the groan vibrating through his chest. 'You're... Why're you, so – so soft?..'

You chuckle, the noise bouncing your chest in his hands as he continues to slowly explore your skin. 'I moisturise.'

At that, a laugh breaks through the lull. It's full bodied and high, a giggle born from pure amusement that makes the apples of his cheeks glow. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah...' You repeat and take his hands once more, encouraging him to take a rougher grip of you. ''m soft here.' Pressing his palms up, you let your chest spill into his hands, but before he can even think about taking a hold of you, you're moving him on. '...And here.'

Next, you skate his hands down your sides making him feel the swell of your curves as your waist gives way to the shape of your hips. 'But...' Biting your lip, you hook your thumbs below his palms and lift, forcing him to venture across the bunched material of your dress until you can nestle one of his hands against your thigh and the other, square over the mound of your cunt. 'I think I'm the softest here.'

Denki moans. Even through the sheer lace of your underwear he can feel how wet you are. It warms the pad of his thumb, making his skin tingle as he presses just so against the raw bud of your clit.

You jolt, even the gentle touch of his thumb making your cunt clench with anticipation. Humming under your breath, you let go of his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt. 'Off... C'mon, it's not fair.' You're whining now, hips moving in the smallest circles you can manage against his stationary pressure.

'Hmm?' Mesmerised by your sudden neediness, he has to shake his head to bring his brain back online for long enough to process your request; but as soon as he does, he's sitting up and almost unseating you in his haste to get rid of his shirt. He yanks at the back of the material, hoisting it over his head and tossing it as far as he can manage. Curling his spine, he blinks up at you with hazy golden eyes and offers you an expectant smile. It twitches the corner of his mouth, pulling his lips into an expression that almost shows his teeth.

'That better?'

You nod and lift your hands to his shoulders. His skin, now bare, is warm under your palms. The lean muscle tangled over his bones is firm and yet, soft; moving delicately under your touch with each of his unsteady inhales. Your eyes eat at him greedily, at the surprising broadness of his shoulders, the cleft of his chest and the neat rolls of his stomach as he bends.

Shifting, he feels chews on the edge of his lip. 'W- What?'

'Nothing...' You smile, pulling your eyes back up to his. 'Just looking at you.'

'Why?'

Lifting a hand, you smooth your knuckles down his cheek. 'Because you're pretty...'

He blushes. Bright red blooms on the tips of his cheek bones and runs like a river down his face until almost his entire chest is flushed.

'… And,' you smirk. 'I think you're going to look even prettier when you're inside me.'

A strangled whimper leaves his throat. It catches behind his Adam's apple, clicking audibly in the new dull silence of the room. His hands lift, fingers digging crescents into the fat of your thighs as he tries to stop his hips from rutting up and into the softness of your cunt.

'You like the idea of that?' Using your thumb, you pull down his lip, exposing gum. 'Like the idea of being inside of me. You wanna fill me up, huh?'

He nods.

'Words.'

'Y – Yeah. Fuck, yeah... Wanna, wanna fuck you.' His grip tightens, eyes unable to be torn away from yours. Grinding down, he shifts his ass further into the mattress, trying and failing to slink away from your heat.

'Good boy.' You kiss him softly, letting him whine into your mouth, but before he can lurch forward and deepen the kiss, you're pulling back and shimmying off of his lap.

For a moment, he attempts to move with you. His head follows, lips still pursed and searching even as you almost clear his knees, but all too soon there's the obvious indents of your fingers in his chest stopping him.

Your hands fiddle with the button of his jeans, making quick work until you're able to slip your hands under the waistband. 'Lift your hips.'

He does, complying easily as you rid him of the offending material. Resting himself on his elbows, he watches as you drop the clothing off the end of the bed and lean back just enough to snake your way out of your dress. He licks his lips. Your body twists, exposing the rough curves of your hips as you shimmy to reposition yourself on the bed. The plush fat of your breast swaying, nipples flat in a way that makes him want to taste them, to feel them plump on his tongue.

Holding onto the small amount of cognition that he still possesses, he uses it to drink in the sight of you perching over his hips.

Lowering yourself onto your elbows at either side of pelvis, you feel your skin prickle under his gaze. Burning suns threaten to scorch your skin as he devours you, eyes everywhere, committing even your most unattractive details to memory. It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable and powerful, having him so captivated without even a touch. Shivering against his gaze, you dip your head and, while keeping your eyes on his, lick a long, thick stripe across the hardness straining against his boxers.

It's like he's just been shocked. Two million vaults course up through his legs with a violence that makes his eyes roll. His cock twitches, jumping against your touch even as you pull away. 'Not... Fuck, that's not fair.'

'No?' You cock your head and purse your lips, pressing the softest of kisses to his covered head.

'No: fuck.' Stretching out his shoulders, he tries to loosen the tension quickly building in his stomach. The last thing he wants is to paint the insides of his boxers and become the latest laughing stock of your friends. Clamping shut his eyes, he breathes deep, but his breathe is stolen again too soon when he feels your tongue press hard against his cock again. Reaching down, he catches hold of the front of your throat.

'That's not going to make me stop, baby.' You laugh, lowering your head again and pushing your throat against his palm. 'If anything, it's going to make me tease you more.'

The rough pads of his fingers dig in for a moment, half-crescents threatening to mark your throat as he tests his grip before releasing you. Rocking his head back onto the pillow, he feels the elastic of his boxers pull from his hips and slip until it's nestled below his balls.

As soon as it's released from its confines, Denki's cock snaps back against his stomach. It's a pretty thing. Slight in it's length, with a girth that is comfortable enough to sit perfectly in your palm and a soft rose to the skin; just looking at him makes you want to swallow him down. His head is darker, a deep red where it peaks from underneath his foreskin and weeps pearled white over his shaft where it races its way to the thick copse of dirty blonde hair that gathers around the base. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you suck ever so softly.

Denki whimpers. Reaching up, he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stem the onslaught of stimulus threatening to reduce him to a premature end. His breath stutters in his chest, caught somewhere underneath his diaphragm as he feels your tongue slip over his head and inch beneath the stretch of his foreskin.

Moaning, you bob slowly on his cock swallowing barely an inch before he's pushing his ass into the mattress and trying to scramble away.

'Shit. Hang on, hang on...' Hand shooting down, he grips the base of his cock with an almost bruising pressure while still wriggling backwards. 'Don't wanna... I don't -.' His breath comes out in pants, his chest caving in with each shaky inhale as he prays for his body not to betray him.

'Are you okay?' Wiping your lip, you sit up and cock your head. You're about to reach for him voice dripping with concern when he peaks open an eye to stare at you.

A dull laugh skips from his tongue when he takes in the confusion lacing your features, allowing him enough air to splutter out a broken: 'Was... Fuck, wasn't going to last.'

'I barely touched you -.'

'Guess I just find you that hot, huh?' With his pulse steadying, he chances a steady stroke of his cock gathering both pre-cum and spit in the twist of his fist. 'You, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?'

Settling back over his hips, you reach for the hand not wrapped around his cock and interlace your fingers before guiding him to your hip. It takes a simple hook of your finger before the heat of your cunt is exposed, underwear unceremoniously tugged aside to allow you to reposition Denki's hand beneath you. 'You have no idea, either.'

The first grind of your cunt across his knuckles has him sucking in breath. Each bone catches against your clit, coating him in your arousal as soft moans begin to leak from your mouth. It makes his stomach twist, his cock twitching in his hand as he feels your need grow large enough to match his own. 'I – I think I'm getting one.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' He swallows. The edges of his vision swim, growing blurry as he struggles to comprehend you grinding on his hand and soaking his lap. Even with the tension still around the base of his cock, he can feel it twitch in his hand, desperate to feel the sweet recess of your cunt. 'I'm... Fuck, I'm not gonna...'

You cock your head, a smile playing at your lip as he trips over his words. 'C'mon, use your words.'

Groaning, he rocks his head back on his shoulders before fixing you with a needy gaze. He speaks quickly, with barely a breath between words as if there isn't even enough time for him to finish his sentence. 'If... Fuck, if you're serious about wanting to sit on my cock, you're going to have to do it soon because just looking at you has me nearly -.'

You cut him off with a kiss. It's immediately deep, needy in its pace and leaves both of you panting when you finally pull away. Resting your nose against his, you whisper into the slither of space between you. 'You want me to fuck you, baby?'

He nods.

'Words.'

'Fuck, yeah. Yeah. I want you – shit, want you so bad.' Twisting his palm, he uses his thumb to gently tap at the hood of your clit. With each subtle moan he earns from your chest, his taps become longer, harsher, causing you to bite your lip and grind down onto him.

Nodding, you cover his hand with yours to inch him away. A smile twitches at the corner of your mouth as he whimpers, chest hollowing at the idea of being parted from you for even a moment.

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose before reaching between your own thighs and taking hold of his cock.

He releases himself as soon as he feels your fingers close around his shaft. His cock pulses, twitching into your hold as you give him a single cursory stroke, spreading the pre-cum leaking down over his skin from tip to root. Flicking your eyes back up to his, you feel the dull thrum of arousal beating in your cunt as you watch his lips drop open even with the little friction you've allowed him. 'Look at you... You're almost as wet as me.'

A blush blooms high on his cheeks, his eyes blowing almost black; turning his eyes into a solar eclipse. His mouth moves, but the words stick in his throat – leaving nothing but a moan able to escape as he nods in agreement.

Wiggling your hips, you shift back and line him up. You're dripping, skin shining with slick as you slowly, slowly, lower yourself down onto his cock.

Immediately, his hands clamp solid around your waist. His eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering as he huffs. You feel divine, hot and wet and squeezing him so tightly that it's hard for him to focus. The edges of his vision blur, his head swimming even though you've barely taken an inch of him. 'Shit, shit... Fuck -.'

'You feel so good.' You finish his sentence for him. His cock forces you to stretch around him, opening you up as you continue to sink down onto him. It's a mild presence, but one that manages to press up on every single nerve inside of you making you want to cry out. Your thighs shake, hands reaching forward to splay over his chest to steady yourself as you finally bottom him out. The nest of blond pubic hair at his base tickles against your clit, causing you to gasp and roll your hips, searching for more.

'I -.' Trying to pull his head from the pillow, Denki stares through the haze of his eyes. 'I'm not gonna last.' His grip tightens on your waist, a new desperation crawling into his voice as he almost whispers... 'Wanna – fuck, wanna make you feel good though.'

'Yeah?' Lifting yourself, you sink back down onto him with ease and shiver against the flare of pleasure that twists your stomach up into knots.

'Please...' Denki's throat is raw, tightening around his plea.

Desperation fills his chest as he watches the point at which you're joined. His eyes fixate on it. On where your body stretches for him, cunt open and drooling as you take him with ease; the flushed bud of your clit twitching each time you manage to impale yourself just right. 'Please...' He tries again, voice still warbling. 'Please, cum on my cock. Please – I wanna, wanna see, wanna feel – please...'

You chuckle, lifting one of your hands from his wrists to stroke your knuckles down his cheek. 'Look at you, begging so pretty...'

'Please -.'

Nodding, you straighten up and roll your shoulders back. For a moment you stay still, letting the taught pleasure simmer inside you until it settles. Your cunt has slicked his skin, making the soft rose flesh shine in the low light of his bedroom. The sight does something funny to your stomach, making it twist and bubble. Clenching your hands, you beckon him to hold you.

There's something impossibly grounding about the way you lace your fingers with his. His palms face upwards, providing a platform for you to press against and he's forced to tense his biceps as you use him as leverage to bounce. 'Oh, shit.' Pleasure flares through his body like wild-fire, making him cling to your hands and his clamp shut his eyes.

'Look at me.' Your voice is soft, although, if he were to listen close, he'd be able to hear a similar desperation to the one that infests his own. 'D-Denki, look at me.'

He obeys immediately. His gaze is hazy. His focus shattered as he looks from your eyes, to your lips, to where your cunt swallows him and back again.

'Want you to watch.' You whisper, causing his eyes to widen.

Nodding, he lifts his hips, fucking up into you just enough to have you teetering on the edge of bliss. He can feel it, how close you are. It's in the tightness, in the way your cunt squeezes him and pulses. You look like a vision, your skin flushed, with sweat beginning to dew along the line of your collarbones and your eyebrows drawn up making your features stretch with pleasure. His heart stutters in his chest, betraying the swirling emotions that threaten to make this mean a whole lot more than just sex.

''m close.' You stutter over your words, so close to your own end that you can almost taste it, but it isn't until you see the soft mouthing of Kaminari's continued begging that you finally feel yourself hit free-fall. His eyes are glued to yours, making you feel observed and worshipped all at once as the entirety of your body lights up like a sparkler.

Kaminari has seen a lot of great things in his middling twenty-seven years on this planet, but watching you come undone on top of him drops itself clear at the top. Ignoring his own nearing end, he attempts to commit every inch of you to memory as he feels you tumble over the end, once and for all.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your cunt pulses, thighs and stomach tensing violently as each wave of pleasure threatens to black out your vision. With each ebb, another dull thrust of Kaminari's cock brings back that same crashing pleasure. You're not sure if you cry out, not sure if you call his name – your ears are full of static, your eyes clouded as you remain air born into bliss.

'Did -.' Swallowing around the spit pooled in his mouth, Kaminari still can't pull his eyes away from you. 'Did I do good? Did I?'

Coming back to your body feels strange. There's a lightness in your bones and a burn in your muscles that screams satisfaction, but that still doesn't stop the fire churning in your stomach once your eyes clear enough to see him. He's close to tears, flushed and needy with his hips still grinding up unable to stop as your cunt continues to milk him. Biting into your lip, you reduce yourself to your elbows beside his head and press your chest to his. 'Cum for me... Want you to use me.'

There's no need to tell him twice. Electricity flashes in his eyes as he lifts himself enough to plant his feet square on the mattress and begin fucking up into you. It's desperate, the pace he sets, as is the series of moans that leak from his mouth as he loses himself to the feel of your cunt. 'Feels, fuck – fuck.'

'That's it, baby.' You coo, pressing an uncoordinated kiss just south of his mouth. Overstimulation bites at your insides making your stomach tense as his cock continues to press square over your G-spot, but there's no mistaking the hum of pleasure it continues to force through your body.

It takes barely a handful of stuttering thrusts before there's a gasping 'Where... Fuck, tell me where now Princess, or I'm gonna -.'

'Inside.' You moan, the idea alone making your mind reel. 'Please, fuck. Cum inside me, please.'

'Yeah...' He nods, huffing. 'Yeah, shit, okay.' His hands find their way down to the small of your back when he cums. His palms spread there, pressing down to ensure he's as deep as possible when he finally begins to fill you. Thick and white, he spills inside you, his cock pulsing as he quakes through the last of his orgasm.

Lifting your head, you blink at him as he slowly comes back to himself. There's a warmth floating in your stomach and a subtle ache in your muscles that you're sure will only feel better in the morning, but that matters a lot less when you lock eyes with him again.

He blinks, disbelief and joy mixing on his features as he mumbles: 'You let me cum inside you.'

'I did.'

'You -.'

'Yeah.'

'Holy shit.'

'You liked it?'

'No-one has never, no-one has...'

You hum and lean in to press only the softest of kisses to his cheek. ''m glad I did. You did so well...' Sitting up, you let your hands roam over your stomach and the fat that lives there. 'Filled me so good.'

Many things flicker through his mind then, none of them savoury. The way you're sat, straight with a subtle curve to your spine, makes your stomach stick out slightly. So much so, that if he where to squint and let his mind wander, he could almost believe that you were... Kaminari's cock twitches.

'Are you getting hard again?' You cock an eyebrow.

He swallows. 'Maybe?'

'Because of?..'

This time, he has the decency to blush, but he doesn't dare lie. He nods, biting down on his lower lip. 'I think I just discovered a new kink?'

'Hmm.' Purring, you rock your hips against him and feel his cock give another valiant twitch. 'Maybe you should breed me again, just to make sure it took, then?'

Kaminari short circuits. His eyes shimmer in the dark, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he tries to calm himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders just what the Hell he did to ever catch your eye.

'Would you like that?'

Sitting up, he wraps his arms around you before twisting and tossing you back to the mattress. He looms over you, an elbow beside your shoulder as his other hand travels down your body and graces the mound of your cunt to play with your clit. Lingering there for a moment, he slips lower and collects the spend that has leaked from you with his fingers before gently pushing it back inside you. 'Yeah...'

Curling his fingers, he makes you arc off the bed as he rubs at your G-spot. 'I'd like that a lot.'

Denki rubs the sleep from his eyes and yawns. There's a pleasant ache in his limbs when he stretches his arms above his head, his toes pointing underneath the duvet as he rocks his head back on his pillow.

His movement jostles you, causing you to open your eyes and squint against his smile.

'You're still here.' He beams.

You respond as if it's obvious, as if there wasn't any remote possibility of you leaving in the middle of the night. 'I am.' Wriggling closer to him, you ignore the dampness still lingering between your thighs from an entire night spent together and lift your leg over his knee.

It still feels surreal as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and uses his thumb to stroke at the skin there, carving unknowable shapes into your muscle. He's longed for this, for you, for longer than he can remember and yet, if he had only seen past his own insecurity... Who knows how long he could have indulged in your body for? How long he could have made you moan and made you breakfast and seen what you looked like at seven in the morning when the sun was in your eyes?

'So, do you believe me now?' You blink at him and smile, resting your head against the turn of his collarbone.

'What?'

Running a finger down the cleft of his chest, you tap out a tune against his sternum. 'That I only want you, silly.'

There's no evidence of yesterday's former ignorance lingering on his features when he stares back at you, only the something close to happiness and the faint shimmer of mischief. 'Eh...' Taking your hand from his chest, he lifts it to his mouth and presses a series of kisses across your knuckles.

The gesture makes you giggle, but before you can lose yourself to his sweetness, he's twisting your hand and pressing your palm to his skin once more. You let him guide you, letting him encourage you down over his chest and past his stomach. You let him push onward, even when you already know exactly where he's heading.

'I think I might need more evidence.' He mumbles as your fingers slip through his pubic hair and make his skin tingle. Already his cock his half hard and swelling fast, just at the mere thought of your hand wrapping around it.

'Yeah, you think so, huh?' Biting your lip, you wait until the breath catches in the back of his throat to stop his onward march.

He swallows.

Sitting up on an elbow, you tilt your head and press a kiss to his mouth, before whispering against his lips. 'Then, maybe my mouth will be better at convincing you...'

Another eye roll is tossed in his direction and you fold your arms over your chest.

“I told you not to li-,” he cuts you off by clearing his throat and you realize at that moment he’s telling the truth. “I would never lie about something as serious as tits.”

Still taken aback by his assertion, you awkwardly lift the beer bottle back to your lips and take a small swig. His thumb runs across a particularly tender part of your foot and you hiss, clutching the bottle tightly between your fingers.

“Sorry,” he offers, moving to begin rubbing another spot as you remain a bit too silent for comfort.

“I, uh….fuck. I made it awkward, didn’t I?”

You shake your head and tuck your beer in the crook of your elbow, reaching out for his hand which he takes. His free thumb brushes your knuckles. He will never do that for anyone else.

“No, no,” you insist, brows furrowing slightly as your eyes dart away from his face. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that, that’s all.”

Natsuo laughs. The sound is familiar, akin to a soft pattering rain on the roof. You giggle back and shake your head, confident he’s about to tell you that he’s joking.

“I tried,” he starts, gulping in small breaths as his laughing subsides. “Couldn’t get hard.”

Your cheeks puff with air as you laugh. Natsuo takes in your features and thinks of how they’ve only made you more beautiful with the time that has passed. He listens as you sigh sweetly and squeeze his hand.

“That has never been a problem for you before.”

Natsuo drops your foot gently and reaches for his beer, taking a drink and considering the right thing to say next. He is telling you nothing but the truth. He spent four years after the divorce trying to date and it was miserable. Every second was torture because all he could think about is how none of it felt like you. Not your soft hips or your perfume or your favorite dish at your favorite restaurant. He hated it.

“Not with you but then again, not everyone is you.”

Feeling heat creep up your neck and into your face, you look down and try to bite back a smile. Feeling his palm pressed tightly against yours, you’re content to hold his hand for a moment.

It reminds you of those first precious dates, those first few months as newlyweds and new parents. It’s the closest you’ll ever be to a true home.

“There was never anyone else for me, either.”

He knows but still nods, appreciating your honesty. Your children lamented often about how annoying you are because you don’t date. He wouldn’t tell you that, though.

“Let me guess, too many men to pick from?”

Squeezing his hand, you unconsciously scoot closer until you’re nearly touching his torso and his hand quickly untangles from yours and drapes around your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your temple. Chaste and appropriate.

You squirm with the heat that simmers between your thighs.

“Didn’t want to have to let them down gently because they weren’t you.”

A smug half smile creeps across Natsuo’s face but you don’t mention it, looking away to give yourself a moment to keep from admitting everything you’ve wanted to tell him over the years.

The routine is easy as ever; you bring alcohol he likes and you tolerate, he wrinkles his nose at your choice of pizza toppings but orders it the way you ask for (he always fights a smile when you kiss his cheek as a thank you), and you both pick a movie.

But you’re too pretty tonight, he has one too many drinks, and the glimmer of cinnamon sugar from the dessert on your lips is all too tempting.

You’re in the kitchen when he kisses you. Well, when he tries to.

He leans into you, heart aching at the domesticity of you knowing your way around his apartment, but you turn your face. Bakugou’s lips graze your ear as he leans his weight onto you, the two of you end up with your faces pressed cheek to cheek.

“What are you…?” you let him press you against a counter, his hands finding your sides.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Bakugou mumbles.

“Katsuki,” you sigh, voice tinged with something he can’t place.

He wishes he had figured out his feelings for you before some other guy asked you out, he has no one to blame but his own emotional constipation. It's only been a few months but your new boyfriend is smitten, he doesn’t blame the guy. And Bakugou can see why you like him, sort of. He’s cookie-cutter handsome, nice to the point that it’s annoying, and Bakugou hates him.

He still wishes, wants, waits. He’s been waiting, and the wanting and wishing have grown into a dull ache that swells each time he sees you.

“Do you really like him?” the question tastes bitter in his mouth, the only thing that might be worse is if you say yes.

In the following silence he takes his answer, finding the courage to lift his head and kiss you. He knows this is bad— but fuck, you kiss him like you want him too, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him close. Your tongue glides against his own and he groans into your mouth, blood singing in his veins like this is the first time he’s truly come alive. 

You pull back suddenly, panting like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, “Wait, Bakugou—”

His body pressed against yours feels right, both of you seem to slot together perfectly, “I like you.”

“Katsuki,” you say again, his name sounds best when you say it, “Don’t say that.”

He doesn’t speak, but he presses his lips to the hinge of your jaw, light and sweet. He wishes he could say he loves you.

“We can’t,” you whisper, voice wobbling ever so slightly.

He waits, breathing you in. You don’t move away.

Bakugou has to dig deep to find it in himself to take a step back. Then another, again and again until there’s respectable distance between you two. When your eyes meet, his stomach twists with shame.

Your expression softens after a moment, “I should go.”

Bakugou makes a noise that’s closer to a growl than he’d like to admit, but it makes you laugh, the tension in the room slightly eased. You pat his cheek on your way past him, lifting up on your toes to kiss him quick, then you’re out the door. The press of your lips is chaste and fleeting, but it’s more than he expected. 

It’s been a short while since you’d seen each other, even your text conversations have dwindled to almost nothing. The morning after the… incident, he’d texted you something apologetic and vague, never working up the nerve to double down on his feelings. You’d sent him back something sweet and placid, something that made him wonder if you’d be so forgiving if he’d ever kiss you again.

Despite his text, he’s not sorry in the slightest. He got to kiss you, hold you, even for a short while. 

At least a few times a week Bakugou finds his cock leaking and stubbornly hard in his hand when his thoughts drift to the feel of your lips on his, your soft little moan when he’d slid his tongue along yours. He has to dig his teeth into his pillow so his neighbors won’t hear him groaning out your name in the dead of night, making a mess all over his stomach and hand.

Having the same circle of friends makes seeing each other again inevitable. Especially when Mina is hosting, something festive and autumnal fit for a mid October party. And she expects everyone to be there— to be fair, her parties are worth it. 

Seeing your boyfriend’s arm around your waist for hours though? Definitely not worth the free booze and food. It’s infuriating, and it doesn’t help that you look damn good tonight. Jeans on the right side of too tight, lips shiny with something sparkly— he isn’t drunk enough to deal with this.

Your boyfriend ducks down for a kiss but you full on dodge, his lips don’t even have the chance to graze your cheek. Bakugou has to bite his tongue to not bark out a laugh.

My gloss, he reads your lips and knows your voice is whiny even though he can’t hear it. If he was your boyfriend right now, he’d kiss you until your stupid gloss disintegrated. 

He stares down into his beer when he hears the tinkling of your laughter across the room. There's no way your boyfriend is that funny. Frustration begins to bubble into irritation and Bakugou realizes he doesn’t have it in him to pretend to be cordial tonight, he hopes the walk home will cool him down. Bakugou downs the rest of his drink and tells Kirishima not to wait up, then he’s out the door.

He doesn’t make it more than a block before he hears your voice calling out for him.

It takes two shouts of his name for him to finally turn, hands in his jacket pockets and the best surly expression he can muster as you approach, a half jog that is slightly slowed by your heavy boots.

“Katsuki,” the way you’re panting reminds him of the last time he saw you, breathing nearly as heavily with his hands on your hips— “What the hell? You left without saying bye.”

He has to turn his head to the side to rip his eyes away from your parted lips, “Don’t feel good. ‘M goin’ home.”

You finally catch up to him, coming in close to put your hand on his bicep and search under his bangs for his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

Something electric passes through him at the point of contact and he tries not to think so hard about how much time has passed since you’d last touched.

His lips twitch into a smile at your worry, “Go back to the party, have some fun.”

You huff, “I didn’t even get to talk to you.”

He gives you a look, brows furrowed.

“I came tonight to…” 

To see you, hangs heavy in the air. The long eye contact touches on awkward, heated, your hand is still on his arm.

“Can I walk you to your place?” he spits out, fumbling to fix himself he hurriedly adds, “Unless, uh, your boyfriend minds.”

“He’s getting a cab.”

“So?”

“So walk me home.”

The curve of your smile is sweet and easy but your eyes have glint in them that’s far too knowing. Something flutters in his stomach, he nods, “C’mon.”

You kissed him. Bakugou is sure of that. Mostly sure, anyway.

He’d walked you home as promised, no funny business. Both of you platonically catching up, until you invite him in— want a drink, Katsuki? with that same sweet smile— and now he’s got his hands up your shirt and your tongue in his mouth. Your tacky gloss smears onto his lips, something tinged with artificial sweetness that spreads over his tongue like cheap candy.

“Does it feel this good when he kisses you?”

His question goes ignored as you chase his lips with a groan of frustration when he doesn’t give you what you want. You huff and grab the front of his shirt, holding him steady as you pout up at him.

“Does it matter?”

Bakugou grins, that’s all the answer he needs.

“Nah,” he concedes as he unclasps your bra, “It doesn’t.”

The only other question he asks is if it’s alright to take off your underwear, his grin growing wider when you give him an enthusiastic yes.

You make a noise in your throat, something close to a whimper when his fingers pet down your slit, “Fuck, Katsuki, what are we doing?”

Bakugou almost laughs at your tone. Guilt. Guilty but not showing signs of wanting to stop his fingers pumping in and out of you. Guilty, but your cunt gets wetter when he thumbs at your clit.

Not guilty enough, maybe not guilty at all.

Guilt or lack thereof becomes the least of his worries when you start to beg for his mouth on your cunt. The moment he drops to the floor he’s sure his knees will bruise but can’t find it in himself to care. Bakugou turns his face to bite at the softness of your thighs, groaning at the warmth of your body. You whine for him, his tongue, and your hands are in his hair, tugging insistently.

As much as he wants to get you off, he needs to memorize you first. He leaves sloppy kisses down your leg until his face is pressed against the seam of your thigh and hip. Bakugou can’t help it, he sucks in a deep breath, the heady scent of you makes his eyes roll back.

You squirm and pull his hair again, “Come on, perv,” but your tone is affectionate.

He gives in, adjusting so your thighs press around his ears as he licks a fat stripe up your pussy. The taste of you is sweet and bitter and better than all of his fantasies because it’s you. You’re soaking his face and he loves it, he can’t help but touch himself as he laves his tongue over your clit, following the rhythm of your rolling hips. 

Bakugou honest to God moans at the way your pussy twitches when you cum, his cock throbbing as he wonders what it would feel like to have you cumming around him. When he finally recognizes your moans aren’t wordless, his balls tighten and twitch— he’s cumming because you’re moaning his name.

Your moans quickly become overstimulated whines when Bakugou redoubles his efforts, arms curling around your thighs as he works his mouth over your cunt. He needs to make you cum again, he just has to, he might never get to feel your twitching clit on his tongue again. Your hands in his hair turn painful but he likes it, loves the feel of you shuddering as your first orgasm rolls into the next, your taste and moans even sweeter the second time.

He rests his forehead on your trembling thigh, eyes closed and trying to regain some composure while he catches his breath. He doesn’t know how he’s going to act as if he hadn’t just lived through one of his top three fantasies. Neither of you move for a long while, nothing but the sound of deep breaths and ambient noise from outside.

Eventually, his legs start getting pins and needles, so he finally rises. He thinks you’re asleep for a moment but you blink your eyes open, looking like it takes great effort to do so.

“Hey,” you whisper, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

He bends down to kiss you, breath catching when your tongue traces the seam of his lips, licking away the taste of you. Your smile doesn’t budge when he pulls away.

His voice is hoarse when he tells you, “I’m gonna head home,” even though all he wants to do is curl up beside you and sleep with you in his arms.

“No, hey, I’m—” you yawn long and hard enough for him to chuckle, “I’m up, I’m up.”

Bakugou nudges your cheek with his knuckles, “You’re gonna pass out any minute now.”

“Stay,” you whisper, pulling him to sit beside you on the bed.

“Sure,” he says easily, pleased you want to fall asleep with him there, “I’ll lock up on my way out.”

“No,” you protest, “Stay.”

“Oh.”

Bakugou swallows harshly, feels his brows furrow. This whole… hookup— affair? Can you call what just happened an affair? Whatever it was, it was a bad idea. He never wanted to make you a cheater.

His eyes trace over the curve of your hip, the empty space beside you on the bed, the look on your face that’s anything but regretful. 

“Yea, ‘course.”

Bakugou doesn’t know why he’s not really upset at being the other woman. Sure, you might have a boyfriend but you keep finding your way back to his place— finding your way underneath him. 

Sometimes, oftentimes, you have to reach over and silence your phone— both of you ignore the name on caller ID— and he tells himself that this guy is a temporary distraction for you, he’s got nothing on your ten years with him. Bakugou loved you first. Bakugou has loved you for longer. He’d let you shatter him into a million pieces just to feel your touch. He’d put himself back together just for the chance that you’d do it again.

It takes until mid-November for him to realize all the cliches and stereotypes are true, almost too movie-like. Late nights at work, lying by omission, sneaking out of parties (you go now, I’ll leave in ten minutes) to hook up in each other’s apartments or cars, hiding hickeys. He even finds himself cagey around his phone as if he’s the one with the boyfriend.

But beyond that he goes about his days like normal. Not an ounce of guilt as he waits for the next opportunity to see you. And somehow he doesn’t blame you. You’ll leave him soon, you told Bakugou yourself.

Somehow he doesn’t mind not being able to think clearly when you’re involved. He knows it’s fucked but can’t pretend to give a damn when your nails are scratching down his back and you’re moaning his name like he owns you.

There’s no way someone is knocking at his door at this hour. Bakugou burrows his face deeper into his pillow and ignores it. But the knocks come again, hurried and insistent. He groans and cracks an eye open to check his phone for the time.

2:54 AM

No notifications.

“Fuck,” he grumbles, determined to fall asleep again.

Another short burst of someone’s knuckles and he rises, trudging out of his bedroom with a scowl and determined to throttle whoever has woken him up. He rubs the heel of his palm into his eye as he opens the door, “Somebody better be fucking dead—”

He hardly has time to register that it’s you at his door before you’re kissing him. You’ve never kissed him out in the open like this, he doesn’t know what else to do besides kiss back, only pulling away when he remembers what time it is.

“Hey, what’s going—?”

“He dumped me,” you tell him. You’re grinning.

Bakugou sucks in a sharp breath then lets it out in a slow whisper, “Yea?”

Then you’re kissing him again, hands on his chest pushing him back into his apartment. The press of your lips holds a desperation he doesn’t remember being there before. He loves it.

The path to his bedroom is easy to follow, even in the dark, the two of you have done this dance more than enough times. Clothes fall by the wayside without so much as a word, you both know why you’re here. 

You’re where he likes you best; underneath him and waiting, wanting, wet because of him.

He needs to be inside you so badly, he can’t reach for a condom quickly enough. The bedside drawer is almost in reach but you grab his wrist and redirect it to your bare breasts, nipple hardening under his palm. Bakugou’s cock throbs when you shake your head at him, he thinks he might cum on the spot. 

“Gonna let me fuck you properly now?” he asks, voice steady like his desire for you isn’t strong enough to make even his bones ache.

“Yes,” you reply, and the word sounds a little bit like a sob.

He loses himself the moment he sinks his cock into the tight, wet clutch of you. Bare for the first time. You say something but he can’t hear it over his own heartbeat, too wrapped up in the way your cunt feels impossibly warm around him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, eyelids fluttering but not quite closing as he starts to move, “I missed you.”

You make a noise somewhere between a laugh and a moan, your tits moving attractively with each thrust, “Me or my pussy?”

Bakugou’s head hangs between his shoulders, hair falling into his eyes as he barks out a rough laugh, “Yes— both— dunno.”

It feels even better to have you like this. Fucking you without a condom, yes, but knowing you have no obligations to anyone else.

Bakugou holds himself above you with his forearms on either side of your head. Close enough for your breaths to mix, close enough to kiss you until his head spins. He almost keens when you nip his bottom lip, he takes the sting of your teeth with pride.

“You’re mine,” you tell him, your hand curving around his neck. You squeeze, nails digging into his pulse, and the headrush makes him moan.

“Uh-huh,” he replies through a smile, voice strained when your hand tightens minutely, “Yours. All yours, baby, fuck—”

You grin at that, pulling him down for a kiss and wrapping your arms around him. He lets himself be pressed close, needing to feel your heart close to his.

“You mine, baby?” he asks, turning his face to kiss your arm.

You nod enthusiastically, “Yes! Yes, please, I’m gonna—”

“C’mon,” he grunts between hard thrusts, eager to feel you cum around his cock, “Say it, say it back.”

But as you’re trying to pick you’re surprised by a text message from your boss, who rarely contacts you out of office hours.

Dynamight[8.16PM]: I’m not gonna be in early tomorrow, I’ve got a meeting with Cellophane.

You can’t help but smile down at the screen, even such a casual message about work has your heart fluttering as you text him back.

You[8.17PM]: Okay, have a good night!

Deciding that you can’t pick between the final two photographs as you click to send them both to your friend, forgetting that the last person you messaged was Bakugou, as you watch the pictures load on your screen. Eyes widening when the blue line reaches the end, and the little message below appears to indicate ‘sent’.

Oh shit.

Bakugou smiles down at his phone dopily when he reads your reply, telling him to have a good night as he lounges back against his cotton bedsheets. Bones aching from a long afternoon on patrol, the ache in his heart stronger for you today because he missed you at the office. The shrill buzz of his phone breaks him from his slumber as he lifts it to read the message, part of him thinking it’s Deku asking him to meet up again for the third time this week, but he’s surprised to see it’s you.

Opening the texts he almost chokes on his own spit.

You[8.29PM]: How are these?

Attached are two pictures of you kneeling in what he assumes is your bedroom. An ethereal glow illuminating your features as you hold the phone up towards the mirror to capture your reflection, your thighs peeking out from beneath an oversized— wait, is that a Dynamight shirt?

Fuck.

Bakugou feels more awake now as he pinches his screen to get a closer look, drinking in every inch of you as he admires at how soft and casual you look. So used to seeing you in those pretty office outfits, it makes his heart warm to see you wearing comfy clothes. Makes him wish he was there with you. The pictures aren’t even that sexual, you’re barely showing skin, and yet you have him hard as a rock. This is what you do to him.

But then he’s wondering why you’ve decided to send these pictures to him, you’ve never shown an interest in him before and suddenly after texting you he gets two selfies? It’s gotta be a mistake, he’s not a naive man by any means, but for a moment he lets himself believe they’re just for him.

His cock throbs beneath his grey sweats as he thinks about how pretty you’d look sitting on his lap in that same outfit, staring down at him with your warm eyes as you trail your hands along his skin. Groaning as he reaches a hand down to palm himself, his cock twitching with desire as he bites his bottom lip.

You[8.31PM]: Bakugou, I’m so sorry that wasn’t meant for you

You[8.31PM]: It won’t happen again sir.

Ugh, there you go again calling him sir. You had absolutely no idea what you do to him, did you? He rereads the text shamelessly as he recalls the saccharine sound of your voice when you call him ‘sir’ at work, squeezing the meat of his cock softly as he neglects to reply, instead going back to the pictures you sent. Imagining those same eyes staring up at him with your perfectly glossed lips wrapped around his length, burying your nose in the messy blond hairs at the base of his cock as he hears you gag around him. Or just having you stare down at him with those same pretty eyes as he lifts you up to sit on his face, your plush thighs squeezing each side of his head as his rough stubble tickles your skin. God, he wants you so bad.

Bakugou fucks his fist two times to your pictures that night. Leaving him in a mess of his own cum surrounded by soft sheets before he has to do it again in the shower, picturing your hand wrapped around him instead. It’s only when he’s changed and back beneath his sheets that he begins to regret his actions, the ache in his chest resumes and he’s reminded once again how alone he is. The bed cold against his bare skin as he begins to wonder who those pictures were for if they weren’t for him, thinking about who the lucky man in your life is if it’s not him.

Heaving out a sigh as he grabs his phone to unlock it, opening your messages again to save both of the photographs you sent to him. If he can’t have you, at least he can dream. Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to decide whether it’s too out of line as your boss to text you back, wondering whether you’d be upset with him or leave.

“Fuck it,”

Going against his better judgement, Bakugou begins to type a reply.

Dynamight[9.56PM]: You look pretty in both, but I like your eyes in the second.

Unbeknownst to you, Bakugou adds the photos to the album he has dedicated to you on his phone. It’s full of photographs that go back as far as when you first started working for him, images of things that remind him of you. The first coffee you shared together, the terrible birthday cake you made him, the stupid zoomed in selfie you took of him when he was in Uravity’s agency in the building across and you were in his. The flowers he’d sent to you on your birthday and hundreds of candid pictures of you.