kitty has shifted . . .

daytime pros

• usually sunny sky views.

• active trolley service (honeydukes express).

• chatty and playful environment.

• arcade room is open.

daytime cons

• sitting down in the chairs for long periods at a time can get uncomfortable.

• noisy.

• sleeping in the chairs are not that comfortable.

• recreational areas are overcrowded with excited 1st years.

nighttime pros

• quiet.

• views of the night time skies.

• you get to sleep.

• comfort enchanted beds.

nighttime cons

• not all of your friends’ parents will allow them to take the sleeper train.

• curfew for when you have to be in your cabin.

• leaving one day prior.

• not a lot of food accommodations considering they assume you will be sleeping the entire ride.

Somehow you were keeping the tears from streaming down your face, but perhaps that was more attributed to your body being in a total state of shock than any success on your part. In your mind you were wailing, in a state of total agony, wishing that you had more time, regretting every little thing that you didn’t get the chance to say or do, cursing your younger self for every insignificant argument that you ever picked with your dad. 

If only you had more time. 

“Come on.” Sukuna’s voice sounded distant, the feeling of his warm hand against yours barely registering as he tugged you off the motorbike, guiding you across the carpark and into the hospital. 

You were glad that he was here to do all the talking for you, because you were in no fit state to speak. You weren’t sure that you’d even be able to tell the nurse your own name and who you were here to see. 

And as Sukuna got you signed in as a guest, there was a large part of you that wanted to turn heel and run, go and throw up outside before disappearing to a place far away from that sad hospital. You could lock away this situation in some box in your mind, never to be opened again. 

You could live your life without confronting it.

But your father hadn’t raised a coward, and you weren’t about to destroy the values that he had so lovingly instilled in you. Not today. 

“I’ll be right out here, okay?” Sukuna’s words brought you back to reality for a moment, brows furrowing at the realisation that he seemed to be leaving you alone. 

“Huh?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion, eyes wide with fear. 

You were still clinging tightly to his hand, reluctant to part with the comfort that his warmth was providing you. 

“Sorry sweetheart, family only. Its policy.” The nurse gave you a sympathetic smile. 

“Please.” You looked up at Sukuna, feeling panic swell in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to be separated from him right now, you wanted him to keep you grounded, to stop you from spiraling totally out of control. 

He bit his lip, red eyes swirling with concern. Softly, he released your hand, wrapping his arms tightly around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pressed his lips against the top of your head, rubbing your back soothingly. 

“I can’t. But I’ll be right here.” He gestured to the near-empty waiting room. “If you need me, you can come out and I’ll be here. I promise.” 

The rational side of you understood that, knew that your father’s final moments were really for you and your aunt, not something that Sukuna should be privy to even with how well he knew the man. But that didn’t stop you from wanting him there, desperate to have something to hold onto. 

“He needs you right now, baby. You can do this, I know you can.” Pulling back a little, he leant down and planted a soft kiss on your lips before releasing you. He took a seat on one of the chairs, the one closest to the door. “Right here, see?” 

You stared at him for a moment, throat sticky with an unpleasant feeling that had you rendered silent. He didn’t push you for a verbal response, simply gazing up at you with a mixture of love and sympathy, open to whatever you wanted to do next. 

“Your father’s just down the hall, he’ll be so glad you made it.” 

Pulling your gaze away from Sukuna, you glanced up at the nurse. She was holding open one of the double doors leading into a long corridor, and once more that desperate feeling to flee made itself known, only sated by the feeling of Sukuna’s fingers brushing lightly against the back of your hand. 

“It's okay, baby. It’ll be okay.” 

It wouldn’t be, you both knew that. But what else was he supposed to say? He was just doing his best. 

This was hard on him too. You weren’t blind to the anxiety that he was masking - the dark shadows under his eyes combined with the general exhaustion in his expression gave it all away. He was desperately upset too, only hiding it for your sake. 

And if he was going to be strong for you, you needed to at least make an effort to do the same for him. 

Taking a deep breath, you took a step towards the hallway. 

“Room 14. It's just at the end of the hall. Your aunt is already in there.” The nurse’s voice was soothing, as if she’d done this millions of times before. You supposed that she probably had - the worst day of your life was just another day for her, another faceless family member of a patient losing everything.

A regular occurrence here. 

Even though the hallway was bright, filled with those horrible fluorescent lights that hospitals always have, it felt dark once the double doors swung shut behind you. The walls felt oppressive, pressing down on you as you shuffled towards your destination. 

It was slow progress, your feet unwilling to move as they usually would across the shiny floor. It felt like you were wading through treacle, every step a great effort, a weight pressing down harder on your chest with each heavy step. 

The silence didn’t help. 

Perhaps if it was daytime and these halls were bustling with doctors and visitors it wouldn’t have felt so terrible. But the sheer pressure of being there alone made everything feel different, like you were a protagonist of one of those terrible horror movies that Sukuna loved so much, marching towards an unavoidable and catastrophic fate. 

By the time you reached the right door your heart was practically in your throat, ready to jump straight out of your mouth and onto the floor. You stared down at the handle for longer than you should’ve, paralysed outside the room that would spell the end for a man that you loved so dearly. 

You needed to pull it together, needed to keep yourself calm when you went in there. Your dad had never liked it when you’d cry about anything, and he hated it when people would fuss over him. He wouldn’t want you to break down, it was selfish - you couldn’t do that in front of him. 

Just like you’d always told yourself, you needed to smile at him, to tell him how much you loved him. His send-off should be marked with happiness, a celebration of his life, not a lamentation of his death. 

There’d be plenty of time for sadness afterwards. His final moments didn’t need to be marred by it. 

Unfortunately, there was nothing that could’ve prepared you well enough for the sight that greeted you when you finally gathered up the courage to open that door. The brave smile that you’d planted on your face fading immediately as you looked upon him. 

He looked tiny in his hospital bed, fragile form sinking down into the blankets. Even though you’d only seen him mere days ago, he seemed to have aged significantly in that time - his eyes were hollow in their sockets, skin stretched out unnaturally around his bones. Most of his body was hidden from view, but what you could see was nothing short of skeletal. 

It had been hard to tell just how significant his weight loss had been before now. You knew he’d grown skinnier ever since he’d gotten ill, but he’d always wear lots of layers, hiding the severity of his condition from you. 

But now the evidence was laid out in front of you - his skin desperately pale, his lips a little parted, the whites of his eyes more yellowed than they’d been the last time you’d seen him. 

And the worst part of it all was that while you could barely recognise the man in the bed before you, he was still unquestionably your dad - him in all his warmth and strength hidden beneath layers of decay.

You wanted to throw up, your hand moving instinctively to your mouth in an attempt to hide the look of horror that no doubt sat upon your face. 

More than anything you wanted to look away, sickened by the idea that zombie movies you’d seen were so disgustingly accurate to the state of a human on the line between life and death. No one should have to see a person that they loved like this. 

It just wasn’t fair. 

Yet you forced yourself to look at him all the same. 

You didn’t want him to think that you were disgusted by him, didn’t want him to feel alone in his time of need, because that wasn’t fair either. 

“Hi, honey. Come and sit down.” Your aunt rose from the chair beside him, ushering you over. Her cheeks were red, streaked with tears. “He can’t talk much, but I know he’s glad you’re here.” 

You nodded, not even attempting to speak, fully aware of the way that your voice would crack and break. Tears were forming in the corners of your eyes, and you did your best to control your breathing and keep them at bay. But that was no easy task as you took the seat beside him, the horror of the situation hitting you with a greater magnitude now you were close to him. 

For a moment you weren’t sure if he even knew you were there, but very gradually he moved his head, eyes locked on yours. 

“Hey.” You breathed, a tear rolling down your cheek as soon as you spoke. 

Strength was out of the window, you supposed. 

You had never accounted for how hard this would be, how much his state would put you on the backfoot. Your aunt had told you on the phone that he’d had a few seizures, that the nurses believed he likely only had hours, maybe less if he had another episode. 

But part of you had thought he’d still be his old self, smiling and teasing you just like he always would. 

Not that he’d be looking at you with a gaze that felt like it went straight through you - like he wasn’t even really there. 

What were you even meant to say? 

Perhaps you should’ve given that more thought on the ride over - it would’ve been a better use of your time than heaping blame on yourself for things you didn’t do. At this rate, not having the right words in this moment was just going to be another regret once your father was gone. 

Your dad croaked out your name softly, brow creasing with effort. His speech was slurred and quiet, barely comprehensible. 

“I’m here.” You whispered, leaning closer to him. “I’m here for you.” 

His lips tilted up very slightly, his hand reaching weakly for yours. You took it without hesitation, startled by how clearly you could feel his bones through his skin, by how tiny and breakable his hand felt in yours. This was a man who had always been so strong and steady, you couldn’t ever have imagined a day where your roles would be reversed. 

“I’m here.” You mumbled again, caught in a loop.

What should you say? What were the right words?

“Don’t look so worried, sweetheart.” He murmured almost inaudibly. 

Your aunt sniffled from the other side of the room, taking a deep breath. You imagined that the last few hours had been harrowing for her, witnessing everything fall apart in real time. All while you were having a nice evening, watching movies and joking around with your boyfriend when you should’ve been here. 

“I am worried.” You whispered. “This is- you’re-”

Voice cracking, you faltered. It felt impossible to effectively form a sentence. All you really wanted to do was let him know that he was loved, that you were here and that you loved him. But the words felt sticky in your throat. 

Because if you said them out loud, it would be an admission that this was the end for him. 

It would be a goodbye. 

“I don’t want this.” You rasped, tears flowing freely down your cheeks now. “I want us all to go back to the bakery, and go on like normal. I- I want to tell you so many things, I want- want you to be there to see all the things I’ll do-” 

You weren’t quite sure if what you’d said was really cohesive, your mind jumbled with a mess of regrets and desires.

He squeezed your hand. 

“I’m just so tired.” He confessed. 

Your lips parted in surprise, heart constricting uncomfortably in your chest as you came face to face with your own selfishness. You wanted him to live for your sake, wanted him to be there to ease your own sadness. 

Meanwhile, you hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe every day that he kept going was an agony that he had to actively endure. 

“I know you’ll be okay without me.” He spoke. 

A dagger that pierced straight through your heart. 

“Please…I still need you.”

Your voice was small and timid, starting to understand where he was going with this but unwilling to let go so easily. He was tough, he could keep going even if he was tired, couldn’t he? It wasn’t fair, not on him, not on you. 

You were both still too young for this to be the end. 

He shook his head a little, sympathy glimmering in his kind eyes. “I wish I could see you live the amazing life I know you’ll live.” 

“You still can. Please.” 

“I’m so proud of you. You know that, don’t you?” He paused for a moment, turning his head away and coughing violently. 

You and your aunt shared a panicked look, and she took a step towards the door, ready to summon the nurse if needed. But the episode subsided quickly, and he turned back to you, taking a shuddering breath and forcing himself to smile.

“Even if my life has been cut short, I don’t have any regrets in the way that I lived. You lit up my whole existence, sweetheart. There’s nothing more precious in this world to me than you. You’re my pride and joy and watching you grow has been a pleasure.”

Breaths were leaving you in short gasps, vision blurry with tears as you clung to his hand desperately, hanging on his every word, trying to etch the sound of his voice permanently into your memory. 

You could hear the strain in his tone, how hard it was to tell you these things. But to him it was more important than anything else - a priority over his own comfort in his final moments. 

He’d always been making sacrifices for you. 

Right up to the end. 

“I hung on as long as I could for you.” He coughed again. “I wanted to make sure that you’d be okay when I was gone - I was scared of you being lonely. But I’m lucky Wasuke raised a good kid, huh? I know he’ll look after you.” 

Your lip trembled, thinking of all the times that your dad had not so subtly hinted at the idea that you and Sukuna would be a good match. You’d thought that he was primarily doing it because he found it amusing, but the reality was far more heart-wrenching. 

He’d been desperate for you to find someone who could offer you support, someone who could stop you from withdrawing into a spiral of isolated depression. 

Until he was certain that you’d found that support system, he’d clutched onto life, enduring all the chemo and pain, all for your sake. And he’d done it with a smile, still laughing and joking with you mere days ago, because he’d do anything to make sure that his little girl was happy. 

He was the best dad you could have asked for. 

“I love you.” You whispered, squeezing his hand tightly. “Thank you for everything.” 

“I love you too.” 

His gaze was soft, but his exhaustion was even more apparent now. It was as if he’d been holding onto his last shred of strength until you arrived, desperate to say what he needed to say before he was willing to let go.

Always thinking of you. 

The coughing started up again, and your aunt approached him, gently rubbing the upper part of his arm, trying to soothe him. 

“It's okay.” She murmured to him, mustering her best smile. “There’s nothing more to worry about. She made it here, we’re both here. You can let yourself rest now. We know how tired you are.” 

It felt wrong, and a part of you wanted to interrupt, to tell him to keep fighting. But that wasn’t what he needed. It wasn’t what he wanted. 

He’d decided that it was his time to go, and you needed to honor that in the best way that you could.

You’d stay there until the very end, tightly clasping his warm hand.

—

Sukuna had stayed awake for as long as he could, eager to be aware and ready for your eventual reappearance. But as minutes turned into hours, the incessant ticking from the clock on the wall a constant reminder of how long he’d been sitting in that chair, he began to drift off. 

Unsurprisingly, he dreamt of you - he’d been dreaming of you every night for weeks now. 

You were happy in the scenario that his subconscious had cooked up - settled in his lap, wearing one of his hoodies that looked so cute on you. You were smiling up at him, your fingers trailing gently along the tattoos lining his face. You brushed your lips softly against his nose, pressing more kisses methodically across his skin. 

A surprised giggle had been ripped from your throat when he lurched forward and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, burly arms holding you still in his grasp. When he’d pulled away breathless, you’d blinked up at him with wide eyes and he’d felt his heart squeeze with desire. 

It was a nice dream, one far from the reality that greeted him when his eyes finally fluttered open. 

You were silent, fingers tugging on his hoodie in an effort to wake him. His lips parted with concern at the sight of you - your eyes bloodshot, tears still drying on your flushed cheeks, lower lip trembling uncontrollably. 

“Baby…” He whispered. 

“He’s gone. He’s-” 

The words got caught in your throat, your hand moving up to your face in an attempt to wipe away the fresh tears spilling from your eyes. He didn’t need to hear any more, didn’t need you to elaborate any further on what he already understood. 

Instead he wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you close against his chest, letting you sob desperately into the fabric. His chest was tight, memories of the kindness that your father had shown him pushing into his mind, only for him to force them aside.

He needed to focus on you right now. 

“I’ve got you.” 

His chin was resting against the top of your head, keeping you as close as he possibly could. He could feel your heartbeat racing, your fingers tangling themselves into his hoodie, like you were doing your best to ground yourself in reality. 

This was completely untread territory for him. 

Having a girlfriend was already very new for him, but he at least somewhat knew what he was doing on that front. It was easy enough to copy the behaviour that he’d seen displayed by Choso and Jin with their various girlfriends over the years, and he had the physical side of things down. 

But comforting your girlfriend through grief? Comforting anyone through grief? He was at a total loss on how to act on that front. The last thing he wanted was to baby you too much, to make you feel like he was treating you like something fragile because of this, but he didn’t want to seem cold either. 

He just wanted you to be okay, but there were no words for a situation like this. It wasn’t like he could relate, he had absolutely no idea what it felt like. He didn’t want to stumble blindly and say the wrong thing - what if he made everything worse? 

For now he stayed quiet, rubbing your back soothingly, planting gentle kisses on the top of your head and hoping that he was doing enough. 

“I wanna go.” You mumbled, your voice almost inaudible. “Can we go?” 

He wasn’t really sure whether you could just go. Was there paperwork and stuff you needed to fill out? Or was everything just…over? 

“Please.” The desperation in your tone had the decision made for him. He wasn’t going to make you linger any longer than absolutely necessary. 

Considering that you’d come out here alone, he could only assume that your aunt was taking care of everything. She’d always been the type of woman who was good at holding herself together, she’d probably told you not to worry about a thing. 

That was for the best. 

You’d been practically zombie-like as he led you back out into the carpark. He’d kept his arm wrapped comfortingly around your waist, saying nothing as you walked close at his side. The sun was just starting to rise on the horizon, and the exhaustion on your face was even more apparent in the light of the dawn. 

He secured his helmet on your head and drove you back to his place, wishing for once that he had a car instead of a bike, because he didn’t really trust you to hold onto him properly in this state. 

The tears had dried up by the time you made it through the front door of Sukuna’s house. He’d considered taking you back to your place, but you hadn’t spent much time there since the incident with Hiromi, and dredging up those memories right now could potentially be catastrophic. 

“You should get a bit of sleep.” He said, noting the dark circles beneath your eyes. 

You’d been awake most of the night, and he knew you had to be exhausted. Even if it would potentially mess up your usual sleep schedule to go to bed now, it felt necessary. He doubted that your tired mind was helping you process this situation in a healthy way.

“I don’t think I can.”

“No?” He tilted his head at you sympathetically. 

“I just- I feel like I should be doing something. One minute he was alive and then he wasn’t and now I’m just here. Like it never even happened.” 

“What do you think you should be doing?” He asked. 

He could understand what you were trying to say, the idea that your father’s life would end on some insignificant day felt wrong. It was strange to go through something traumatic only to head back home like normal. 

But what were you meant to do? Wallow all day until you eventually passed out? 

You’d been fighting with grief the whole night and you were going to fight with it for the rest of your life. 

Might as well get some rest first. 

“I don’t…I don’t know.” You mumbled. 

His hand reached for yours, intertwining your fingers. “Well I do.” 

You looked up at him in surprise, waiting with baited breath for him to offer a solution to all your problems. 

“You’re gonna get some sleep.” 

Ever so slightly, your lips curved upwards as you let out a frustrated huff. It seemed like you were torn between staying serious in this dire situation and scolding him for tricking you in a way that was so obvious when your guard was down. 

But you didn’t fight him on his suggestion this time, letting him lead you up to his room. 

With the sun steadily rising, light shining through his curtains, he was already starting to overheat in his hoodie, and he could only assume that the same was true for you, based on the flush covering your face. 

Not that you seemed moved to actually do anything about it, standing almost zombie-like in the middle of the room, swaying on your feet as you stared intently at the wall. 

He shed his own clothes before helping you remove yours, scattering the garments over the floor and guiding you to the bed. He settled you both down easily, wrapping his larger body protectively around yours, tingling at the sensation of your warm skin pressed against his. 

One of his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, while the other threaded into your hair, stroking the strands softly and holding you close against his chest. He pressed a kiss against the top of your head in an attempt to soothe you, heart picking up at the feeling of your tears wetting his bare chest. 

There was nothing that he could think of that felt worth saying. He had no guidance or advice, all he could do was hold you and hope that was enough. 

“There were so many things I didn’t get to tell him.” You whispered, your voice small. “I’ll never be able to tell him anything ever again.” 

Sukuna stayed silent, burying his face into your hair. The thought of walking into the bakery without your dad’s bright smile to greet him was heart wrenching. He could only imagine how his own father was going to react when he heard the news. 

Your dad was a man whose presence was felt in whatever room he was in. And he would be sorely missed. 

“I want- wanted him to see me do something, y’know? I wanted him to watch me graduate, be proud of me for chasing my dreams, to walk me down the aisle one day.” You sniffled softly. “I’d always figured that one day I’d have kids and I could let them hang out with grandpa while I went off to work, and he’d spoil them rotten and- fuck.” 

Your voice cracked and you fell silent for a few moments, your smaller form quivering in his firm grip. 

“I have so much life left to live and he won’t be there to see any of it.” 

“No, he won’t.” Sukuna mumbled against your hair. “But I know he’d be proud of you anyway.”

—

When Sukuna awoke hours later, you were gone. Your clothes and backpack that had been strewn across his floor for weeks had disappeared, and there was a neatly written note on his bedside table.

Gone home. Sorry, I need some time alone.

He sighed, running an exasperated hand through his hair as he stared at your handwriting, his eyes still heavy with sleep. He didn’t really want you to be by yourself, not with your incessant and self-destructive tendency to try and solve all your problems alone, but he also didn’t want to disrespect your wishes. 

For now, it was probably better to let you come to him when you were ready. 

But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting like hell to wake up without your warmth beside him. It had come to be normal routine for him - his eyes fluttering open to find you huddled close against him, usually clutching his arm firmly like he was one of your silly stuffed animals.

Waking up with your side of the bed cold fucking sucked. 

He felt heavy as he lay there staring up at the ceiling, reluctant to move from his position in bed. His feeling of loss was nowhere near as profound as what you were no doubt experiencing right now, but he still felt devastated. 

Your father had been a constant in his life for a long time now - he’d been to that bakery more times than he could count. And no matter how the man was feeling, he’d always greet Sukuna with joy, taking the time out of his day to converse with him. There were plenty of times that Sukuna had wished that he had a dad like yours - one a little more understanding of him than Wasuke was. 

There wasn’t a time where he didn’t feel welcome - even when your father’s health started to decline, he never treated Sukuna’s presence as a nuisance, constantly going out of his way to ask him how he’d been doing. And when he wasn’t listening eagerly to Sukuna’s stories, he’d tell his own - making jokes and talking endlessly about his lovely daughter. 

Without your dad, he never would’ve ended up with you. The best thing that had ever happened to him only existed because of that man. 

For him to be gone for good was devastating. 

Sukuna would’ve loved for your dad to be his father-in-law one day. At the very least, he would’ve liked to have had that dinner with him as your boyfriend. 

He could understand why it was hard for you to look past regret. 

None of it was fair. 

For a long time he stayed in bed, eyes fixed on nothing in particular, contemplating his own feelings of grief for a while before trying to push it to the back of his mind. He needed to get up at some point, and he couldn’t allow himself to fall too far into a pit of sadness - not when he still needed to be strong for your sake. 

Fumbling about on his bedside table, he grabbed his phone, groaning at the realisation that it was 4pm and he’d slept away most of the day. It wasn’t the biggest deal since there were still a couple of weeks left of summer break, but he always found fixing his sleep schedule to be a nuisance. 

Scrolling through his notifications, he’d hoped to see something from you. Unfortunately, the only messages waiting for him were from his group chat, and he certainly didn’t like what he was seeing.

[toji]: someone needs to update the total on the ‘sukuna making girls cry’ tally [blue-eyed freak]: OOOOOOOOOH [blue-eyed freak]: yeah lemme get it up 🫡🫡 [sugu]: who?  [sugu]: yorozu again?? [toji]: nah his girl [suguru]: yikes 😬

He frowned as he tried to comprehend the exchange that had taken place a couple of hours ago. What the fuck was Toji even talking about? He hadn’t made any women cry in months, at least, as far as he was aware. 

And he was pretty damn certain that he hadn’t made you cry. 

Not that Toji would be aware even if he had. 

Unless…

“Hey, Toji?!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. 

“What?” His friend shouted back, voice muffled, evidently a couple of rooms away. 

He sighed, not bothering to respond as he stared down at the messages again. He could only assume that you’d run into his roommate on your way out of the house. Toji had probably seen your tearful expression and guessed that he was the cause of it, which wasn’t an insane conclusion to draw since Sukuna did have a track record. 

Not when it came to you though. He spent all his time trying to stop you from crying. 

What was Toji even doing back in the house anyway? He wasn’t supposed to be here just yet. 

Regardless, he wasn’t really in any mood to explain to his friends that you weren’t crying because of him. So instead he typed out his go-to response for when he didn’t want to deal with his friends’ bullshit. 

[Sukuna]: fuck off

He then muted the group chat for an hour, figuring that he had very little interest in whatever insights Satoru or Suguru might try to provide him with. 

The response had the opposite effect with Toji though, a bang sounding on Sukuna’s bedroom door not thirty seconds later, causing him to let out yet another sigh. This day had been deeply testing for him, even despite the fact he’d been asleep for most of it. 

“What?” He called out gruffly, glaring at his raven-haired friend who took that as an invitation to enter. 

“Lazy, much?” Toji asked, eyes scanning over Sukuna. He hadn’t moved from the bed yet, still shirtless and messy haired.

“Thought you weren’t back until next week.” 

“My plans changed.” Toji responded with a shrug, leaning back against the doorframe. “I put it in the group chat last night.” 

Right. The group chat that Sukuna had muted for a few hours yesterday afternoon because Satoru kept sending through blurry pictures of birds. That man had become obsessed with the idea of being a birder over the last few weeks thanks to some stupid documentary he’d seen, and now they all had to suffer. 

Who could’ve known that Toji would put something important in between all those stupid pictures. 

He fucking hated Satoru. 

“Oh, must’ve missed it.” Sukuna’s tone was dry. 

“You look like shit.” Toji commented. “Trouble in paradise?” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. 

“Didn’t even know you guys were actually a thing. Guess you fucked it up fast, huh? Did you tell her she was bad in bed or something? She was practically sobbing when she ran out of here.” 

“I didn’t fuck up anything.” He hissed. “I’d never say that shit to her.” 

Sure, he might’ve said that to other women he’d been with, but never you.

“Ooh, defensive much?” 

“She wasn’t crying because of me. Her dad just died, asshole.” 

Toji’s lips parted in surprise, his teasing expression suddenly turning more serious. “Oh shit- sorry. My bad, dude.” 

The crueller part of Sukuna desperately wanted to take a photo of Toji’s bashful expression right now, but he figured that would probably undercut the message and turn him back into being the bad guy. Mentally, he’d be holding on to that image for a long time though. 

Toji didn’t seem sure what to do, lingering in the doorway uncomfortably. He’d obviously been in the mood to poke fun at his friend, expecting the usual jovial atmosphere that generally existed between the two of them. He’d been caught off guard by this situation even more so than Sukuna had. 

“Wish she didn’t fuckin’ leave.” Sukuna grumbled, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to try and push stray strands out of his eyes. 

“Yeah?” Toji asked, green eyes watching him with interest. “She okay?” 

Sukuna shrugged. 

The answer was no, you definitely weren’t okay, but he couldn’t offer much insight beyond that. He had no real understanding of what was going on in your mind at all. Part of him hoped that you’d isolated yourself to try and sort out your head and heal, but he was almost certain that you were probably just self-destructing instead. 

And now you’d shut him out, which wasn’t ideal. 

Just when things had finally been looking up too. 

Toji wandered into the room, picking up and examining various trinkets on Sukuna’s desk. His hands eventually fell onto the tiger plushie that Sukuna had won for you, examining it for a moment before holding it up. “Seems a bit cutesy for your tastes.” 

“It's not mine.” 

That had Toji grinning like Sukuna had walked straight into a trap. 

“So I guess you guys got real close over the summer then.” 

“Something like that, yeah.” 

He wasn’t sure how much detail he wanted to go into on that front. The two of you hadn’t really discussed the idea of properly telling people, and he didn’t want to overstep by letting his friends know before consulting with you. 

“So like, shouldn’t you be with her right now? If her dad’s just died and you guys are close…”

Sukuna rolled his eyes in frustration. “You’d think so, yeah.” 

Maybe he was a little bitter that you’d just up and left. You could’ve at least woken him up to tell him personally that you were leaving. He would’ve liked to have kissed you goodbye or something. 

Not that it was fair for him to be mad at any of your actions right now. 

Toji hummed, thinking for a moment. “Never thought I’d see the day where you’d put up with something so inconvenient, you know.” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, she literally ran away when you kissed her for the first time and you had to win her back, and now you’re dealing with her grief and all that. Just never thought I’d see you putting in so much effort for a girl.” 

His pride had him wanting to argue, but that was a pointless endeavor. Toji was right - he’d never put any effort into a woman before. He’d generally only sleep with someone who was throwing themselves at him, which was easy because he was attractive, but still. 

He’d never really considered a relationship before you came along, but even if he had, he was certain that he would’ve only gone along with something that was convenient for him - someone he could fuck whenever he wanted who required his support as little as possible. 

Yet here he was, bending over backwards for you. 

And he didn’t even have a problem with it. He liked you, a lot. He wanted you to be happy and achieving that goal never felt like effort for him, because how you felt affected him deeply. 

Sure, you came with a whole lot of emotional baggage attached but Sukuna was more than happy to shoulder that weight. 

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I guess she’s just worth it.” 

And because you were worth it, for the next few days he gave you space just like you’d asked.

Even if it was killing him.  

He’d send you messages at least twice a day, always wishing you good morning and goodnight, and in between that he’d ask if you were doing okay, if you needed him for anything. 

The lack of meaningful responses that he’d receive in turn started to wear on him pretty fast. 

You’d generally only reply to his questions with one word, occasionally reading his messages only to avoid replying altogether. He tried to be patient though - he understood that you were going through something that he couldn’t possibly understand, that you had bigger things occupying your mind than replying to his messages. 

So he persisted, trying to be positive whilst offering you the space that you’d asked for. 

But as a whole week passed by without seeing you, without even so much as a phone call, he decided that enough was enough. 

Giving you space was one thing, but he’d witnessed first hand over the last few months that you had a tendency to withdraw yourself and self-immolate in an attempt not to inconvenience others. He wasn’t going to let you do that this time, not when he was so willing to stay at your side through this whole thing. 

If you were lost within the throes of despair, he was going to pull you out. No matter how much you wanted to wallow in your own grief. 

—

You’d been having easily the worst week of your life. 

Things had spiralled wildly out of control since you’d parted with Sukuna - a fact that didn’t come as much of a surprise to you. You’d fled from his house because you couldn’t hold it together anymore and you didn’t want him to see you in your lowest state. 

That wasn’t a fair ask of someone who you’d only just begun a relationship with. 

So you shut yourself off, heart seizing anytime your phone would light up with a message from him, unable to quite find the will to respond. Everything just felt too overwhelming right now. 

He wasn’t the only person that you were shutting out. 

You had dozens of messages from your mom, aunt and various other family members trying to check up on you, all left unread. Your aunt had even swung by at some point, talking to you through the door when you didn’t open up, too lost in your own grief to talk to anyone face to face. All you could do was curl up in a ball against the front door and listen to her soothing voice try to offer you comfort. 

Even Nanami had tried dropping by, slipping a note under the door offering you his condolences and reminding you that he was there to talk if you needed any support. You assumed that your mother must’ve told his family about the whole situation, since she’d been close with his parents when you were young. 

You guessed that also meant that all your friends knew now. A thought that had your chest twisting uncomfortably. You didn’t want all the attention or pity that this would bring, didn’t want to receive special treatment in the form of everyone sending you sad little messages. 

For that reason, you quickly swiped away any notifications you received, leaving your phone on do not disturb most of the time. The only person receiving any response from you at all was Sukuna, and that was only because you’d feel guilty if you didn’t give him something. 

You knew that the way you’d left his house while he slept was wrong. It was reminiscent of when you’d run out on him the first time that you’d kissed - a shitty thing to do. And for that reason you’d at least try to answer his questions, no matter how dry the response. 

When you weren’t trying to ignore the onslaught of messages, your time was spent in general misery. 

You’d spend hours frozen, sitting on the floor with your knees pulled to your chest, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Your mind would plague you with a non-stop show reel of memories, both good and bad. 

You weren’t sure which was more painful for you to witness. 

The good memories offered you a sense of peace, a vision of all the pleasant days that you’d had with your father, only to leave you sobbing at the realisation that you’d never have any of that ever again - no more christmases, no more days out at summer festivals, no more hours spent laughing together in the bakery. 

It was almost pleasant that the bad memories didn’t lead you into a false sense of security, didn’t leave you in pieces over things you’d never live again. But they scared you in a different way. Your recollection of time that you missed with your father, moments where you’d yelled at him as a kid, times when you’d rolled your eyes at something he was asking you to do - they all swirled together into a storm of guilt and self-hatred. 

You knew that those things didn’t matter, that your father loved you ceaselessly. But your mind had never been your friend during times of trauma, and you found yourself being convinced of that guilt the more you thought about it. 

It grew from something tiny into something massive, the belief that you could’ve done better, should’ve done more before his death, forming itself into the prevalent emotion in your mind, the manifestation of your grief. 

And it had you paralysed. 

For days, you barely moved from your spot on the living room floor. Outside of pulling out photo albums of you and your father to wallow further in your grief, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, completely forgetting how to even really function as a human being. 

It was impossible for you to really sleep, tortured by thoughts whenever you tried, only getting hours in here and there when your body would pass out from exhaustion. You’d only eat the bare minimum, ordering take-out or grocery deliveries knowing that you didn’t have the energy to cook for yourself. 

Hell, you didn’t even have the energy to change the clothes you were wearing, practically stewing in your own filth as you tried to force down food that you didn’t want to eat. 

That became your whole world. A life of solitude, stuck in one place, drowning in your own guilt and loss while wondering if you’d feel this way for the rest of your life. 

You didn’t flinch when the doorbell rang around a week after your father’s death, assuming that it was just your aunt again. The last thing that you wanted was for anyone to see you in this state, your energy at an all time low. As long as you stayed silent they’d leave in a while, that’s what always happened. 

“I’m not leaving until you open up. I know you’re in there.” You glanced over at the door, heart stirred by the sound of Sukuna’s voice coming from the other side. 

You didn’t want him to see you like this. It was pathetic. He’d think you were pathetic and then you’d really have nothing. 

“Please, baby? I just wanna see you. I’ll wait here all day if I have to.” 

His tone was desperate, pleading - and you’d never been great at denying him anything. 

Your heart fluttered as you pulled open the door, greeted by the sight of your boyfriend, looking handsome as ever. It made you feel a little self-conscious, because you hadn’t showered since before your dad had passed away, and the clothes you were wearing were old and stained.

He was frowning with concern as he stared down at you, maroon eyes taking in your disheveled appearance. A little bit of shame began to swirl in your chest at the idea he’d be repulsed by the lack of care that you’d taken of yourself over the last few days. 

“Hey.” You mumbled. 

“Morning, baby. Can I come in?” 

Taking a glance behind you, you hesitated for a second. You knew for a fact that the place was a tip - dishes and takeout boxes piling up in the kitchen, various sentimental items related to your father strewn out all over the place. You didn’t really want Sukuna to think you were a total slob, but you supposed there was no helping it now. 

Stepping aside, you let him enter your house, closing the door carefully behind him. It felt a little awkward between you as you both stood there in the hallway. Since he was the one that had come to visit you, it felt like he should speak first, but it was clear he hadn’t prepared anything in advance. 

“How are you doing?” He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth, aware that it was currently a pointless question to ask. 

“You know.” You said with a shrug, gesturing to yourself and your messy surroundings. It was enough of an answer. 

“Yeah, right.” He clicked his tongue. 

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, averting your gaze to your feet. You weren’t sure how to deal with being around Sukuna at the moment. You were falling apart at the seams and it felt wrong for anyone to see you like that. He’d already taken on so much of your emotional baggage, he shouldn’t have to take on more. 

Not when your relationship was still so new. 

This was meant to be the part where you were having fun, not the bit where he was trying to support you through your grief. 

“Look, I don’t know the right words and stuff so I’m just gonna cut to the chase and say what I feel.” Sukuna said.

You glanced up at him with surprise, caught off guard by the sudden shift of tone. He wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed walking on eggshells and watching every word that he said, you knew that, but with how he’d been acting lately you’d kind of assumed that he’d made an exception for you. 

It made you feel a little happy that wasn’t the case, that he was still willing to treat you as normal rather than someone he had to tip-toe around. 

Because all the pity just made everything worse. It just reminded you that you’d lost something significant, and strengthened that internal feeling of guilt that was already threatening to consume you. 

“You can’t just shut me out. I know that’s your go-to tactic the second something goes wrong for you, but you really need to cut that shit out.” 

Your lips parted with shock, not prepared for the harsher approach. For a moment you felt a sense of clarity, because of course he was right. Shutting down had never been the right thing to do, you’d learnt that already with the whole Hiromi debacle. Things were better when you’d leant on Sukuna for support. 

You knew that. 

But nature was a tough thing to change. 

“I know you said you needed space, and I think I’ve done a good job at giving you that, but I don’t think that space is actually the thing you need or want. I think you just wanted to run off and do what was familiar to you.” 

He took a step forward, eyes roaming over your unkept appearance. His fingers reached out, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The action felt uncharacteristically gentle when compared to the sharp edge of his words. 

“Look at you, baby. This isn’t okay, you’re not doing okay.” 

“I know that.” You hissed, the statement coming out a little more defensive than you’d intended. Tears threatened at the corner of your eyes, because even though Sukuna was just stating facts, you didn’t want your lack of ability to cope laid out to you. 

You wanted everyone else to think that you were holding it together, you didn’t want anyone seeing you like this. 

Sukuna looked a little startled at your response, red eyes wide at the idea that you’d actually bit back at him. The feeling of guilt was instant. You didn’t mean to get frustrated with him - he was just trying to help you. But the fact that you’d barely slept in the last five days was making it hard to keep your emotions in check. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I just- I thought it would be easier this way. I didn’t wanna make everything your problem.” 

Sukuna’s fingers fell down to your arm, softly tracing along the exposed skin. There was no judgement in his gaze as he stared evenly at you. “I know. But I need you to understand that I want to be here for you. So please let me. You don’t have to deal with this all alone.” 

Silent tears fell down your cheeks. You were tired of crying at this point, your eyes permanently red, your head aching from non-stop bouts of sobbing for the last few days. That didn’t mean that you were capable of stopping though. 

Taking your response as an opportunity, Sukuna wrapped you up in a firm embrace, his chin finding its way to the top of your head just like always. He breathed out a sigh of relief, keeping you wrapped up in his warmth for a few minutes, waiting until your quiet sobs had subsided a little before pulling back. 

“Can you do that for me? Let me look after you?” 

You gave him a little nod, heart picking up in your chest. 

Sometimes you couldn’t understand him, couldn’t comprehend why he’d try so hard for you. You weren’t an easy person to cope with, and considering that you were still in the early days of your relationship he could so easily walk away or keep his distance. 

Yet that seemed unfathomable to him. 

Considering how much bad luck you’d encountered in your life, you’d never be able to understand how you got so lucky with him. 

“Good. Now how about we get you in the shower? I think that would help a lot right now.”

You didn’t bother protesting, because he was definitely right. You’d been neglecting your wellbeing on all fronts and you hated to think about how bad you might smell right now. Luckily, Sukuna didn’t directly comment on that, steering you towards the bathroom and turning on the shower. 

He left you sitting on the closed toilet lid while the water heated up, disappearing off into your room for a minute before returning with a set of clean clothes in his arms, placing them down on the side. 

“Come here.” He said, beckoning you over to him. 

A light blush summoned itself onto your face as he pulled off your shirt, but for the most part you didn’t have the energy to really feel shy or embarrassed about the whole ordeal. Your thoughts felt far too fuzzy for that right now. Besides, he’d already seen you naked, it wasn’t like there was anything to feel insecure about. 

Although, even in your hazy mind you were still able to identify that this situation felt strangely intimate, in a way that differed from undressing to have sex. 

Sukuna removed your sweats, throwing them into the laundry hamper before removing his own clothes and leading you into the shower, his hands never leaving your skin. Even in this situation, you still found yourself momentarily captivated at the sight of his body, your gaze running over his toned abs as rivulets of water cascaded down his abdomen. 

He was careful maneuvering you beneath the water stream, wetting your body and hair, his hands steady on your arms. That was probably for the best - you’d been swaying on your feet since he’d arrived, and you really felt like you might just pass out at any moment. 

The two of you were silent for a little while. Not because you didn’t want to speak to him, but because you didn’t have the energy to do anything but stare blankly at the tiled wall in front of you, blurry patterns swirling in your vision from exhaustion. Maybe now that Sukuna was here you’d be able to get some sleep - his presence might stop you from getting out of bed and doomscrolling the second your thoughts came to torment you. 

Sukuna released you from his grip for just a moment, picking up the bottle of shampoo and lathering it over your hair, careful not to let any fall in your eyes. The sensation of his fingers massaging against your scalp had you feeling more relaxed than you had in a while, a soft sigh falling from your chapped lips. 

His fingers stalled for a moment at the sound, as if considering whether he should say something, only for him to start up again. He was meticulous in his actions, rinsing you off and making sure that he was satisfied with the cleanliness of your hair before moving on to your body. 

Your eyes closed, basking in the feeling of Sukuna’s fingers working on your skin. It felt pleasant to have him touch you like this, almost grounding - a reminder that you weren’t alone right now, that you didn’t have to cope with everything on your own. 

Relaxing your shoulders you found yourself slumping forward a little, Sukuna’s large hands coming up to keep you steady. Your eyes fluttered open as he pulled you into an embrace, keeping you close against him beneath the flow of the warm water. 

“I’ve got you.” He murmured. 

It felt a little weird to be naked and pressed up together like this outside of a sexual context, but you didn’t dislike it. 

Instead you clung desperately to him, your arms draping over his shoulders. You were trying not to start crying again, overwhelmed by the warmth and care that he was displaying right now. 

He didn’t need to do any of this for you, but he was anyway. 

Did you really deserve this? 

After all your failings with your father - all your failings in your life, were you honestly worthy of Sukuna’s affection? 

The thoughts that had been momentarily stalled by your boyfriend’s appearance reared their heads once more. The echoes in your mind of missed opportunities, of all the ways you could’ve done more, coming to eat away at your sanity. 

“I should’ve been better.” You mumbled, your words so quiet that he barely caught them. 

“What?” 

His voice was soft, maroon eyes peering down at you with concern. It only made you feel worse, because who were you to have something so good in your life when your father was laying dead?

“I should’ve been a better daughter, I should’ve done more for him, I-” 

"Don't be stupid.” He cut you off, and you looked at him wide eyed, struggling to comprehend that those were the words he’d chosen.

He looked sure of himself though, unwavering. There was no scramble to take back his words, just pity in his gaze as he stared down at you. 

“I’ve never seen someone try so hard at everything, in my entire life. If you wanna know what a bad son looks like, it's me. I got dozens of tattoos at eighteen and my dad has to practically threaten me to get me on a phone call. Meanwhile you went out of your way to spend time with your dad, to look out for him while he was ill. So don’t even go thinking that shit about yourself.” 

You were caught off guard, your spiral of worries failing in the face of Sukuna’s logic. 

“You literally did the most you possibly could’ve done, baby.” He soothed, a calloused hand brushing your cheek. “When I first met you, you were falling apart from all the stress you were under trying to balance things, all because you wanted to make life easier for him. You couldn’t have physically done more.” 

“It still wasn’t enough.” You insisted, voice cracking with frustration. “These last few weeks I spent all my time with you. I was having fun while he was dying, and that makes me the worst daughter imaginable.”

He scoffed, and you stared up at him incredulously, your brows tightly knit in confusion at his reaction. 

“You did what he wanted you to do.” Sukuna said firmly. “All he ever wanted was for you to be happy, I know that because it was all he ever talked about.” 

“But-” 

“You know that, baby. Somewhere in your heart, you understand. Hell, I bet he even told you that shit on his death bed.” 

Your gaze lowered down to the floor, watching the water disappear down the drain. It was almost annoying how perceptive Sukuna tended to be. 

“I know it's not your fault.” He lowered his tone. “I know that for some reason your mind always drives you into believing that you have to feel guilty about everything. But your dad wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for anything.” 

He pulled you against him once more, bringing your face to his chest, allowing the two of you to keep warm under the steady stream of water flowing over you. 

“It's okay to be upset, to miss him. But you shouldn’t get caught up in regret or self-hatred. He loved you more than anything, I mean, he never shut up about how proud he was of you.” 

You let out a sound that was something between a laugh and a sob, thinking about Sukuna being held captive in the bakery while your father regaled him with endless tales of your achievements. It had almost irritated you back then, the way that he’d always share embarrassing stories about you with a big, stupid smile on his face. 

He always had been so proud of you, he’d said it himself. 

You’d give anything for him to tell just one more embarrassing story about you. 

“I miss him.” You whispered against Sukuna’s chest. 

“I know, baby. So do I.” 

next chapter

a/n: I'm very sorry to do this to you all. reader's dad really did deserve better :(

as someone who's experienced grief very recently this chapter holds a lot of personal significance for me and I hope that it can provide some comfort or resonate with any of you out there who have been unfortunate enough to experience something similar <3

I've already written most of the next chapter so that should hopefully be with you in the next week or so!

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed this chapter - reblogs and comments are appreciated, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic! <3

taglist (open!): @call-me-nyxx @mad-katsuki @ilovesmolkittycats @cupidxml @solarlovesxyz @serenadesvt @fushiguroooozzz @surgikull @yuujispinkhair @himezoro @etsuniiru @lkukaknka @svnarxnn @chaos-4baby @rinofcike @eepydeepysleepy @linaaeatsfamilies @tisuruxx @grimm3r @minasuniverse @sail0rpluto @beereadzzz @00frenchfries00 @sukubusss @poopooindamouf @himbosexual @yatsuyu @thejujvtsupost @shewhoscreamssilently @kalulakunundrum @xxkay15xx @madison777x @thoreeo @saltypuffin1040 @t4ters @sugarysc @sussiesushi @silviscosplay @inthedarkshadows000 @jellybellyconnoisseur @p1nkfl0wers @philiasoul @emochosoluvr @tweetybomb @ynishalee @camsdrzd @jupitereleven @anguuubb @lily-bisque @christinezz33

you scoot closer to him so your knee is touching his side and you can flatten your hand on his collarbone. you watch as his breath hitches at your touch, his eyes staying on your face and not dropping to the tiny piece of fabric between your thighs or your chest.

“i wanna know more about you,” you say, lifting up his black lenses sunglasses off his nose bridge just to check he’s looking at you. he is. two shiny rubies glittering. then you drop the glasses back onto his nose.

you feel his whole body hum, “can say the same about you.”

bakugou is brave when he places a hand on your bare thigh. your eyes widen just a smidge before biting down on your lip. fuck, it is way too early to feel this much sexual tension. you want to drag him into the hideaway and push him down onto the mattress.

politely, you take your hand off his collarbone and his hand off your thigh. “sorry, i can’t think straight with the touching,” you blink a few times like you’re clearing your head, adjusting your posture and stretching your fingers, “i’m serious. i wanna know about your family, your friends on the outside. what’s your usual morning routine… what’s the day in the life with katsuki. what about your last name?”

apparently, you don’t need to have him touch you to feel aroused, his smile can do it for you. the corners of his lips reach up, revealing bright white straight teeth and a gold tooth on his canine. how’d be get that? why? you need to know everything. he adjusts the waistband of his black swim trunks.

“fuck, you’re adorable. one by one, yeah? and then you answer the same question.” his hands are back on his own chest, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you. even the urge to look between your legs, your cute thighs and that tiny strip of fabric hiding nothing.

you nod, adjusting your hair because you want to look perfect in front of him even though he’s seen how you look when you wake up.

“i usually go to the gym every morning.”

your face scrunches. unimpressed, confused, icked out… katsuki doesn’t get it.

he frowns back at you, “what’s wrong with that?”

“every morning?”

“yeah, gotta stay ready for my work. part of my routine.”

you pout, looking away. you don’t mean to but you run the tip of your finger down the vein in his forearm.

“i need cuddles in the morning if i’m waking up beside my man. i’d hate waking up beside an empty spot all the time in a relationship.”

bakugou lets every word sink into his skin like the sunscreen he slapped on earlier.

“i’d adjust for my girlfriend.” in other words he’d adjust for you. “i’d probably wanna do a lil more than cuddle in the mornin’.” if i woke up beside you.

that gets you staring at his lips. pink and in a small smirk. he has to be an eater. you want to run your tongue along the scar on his cheek. feel his hands back on your body.

“that’s good to know, katsuki. really good to know.”

you’re trying to be serious but the giggles spill out of you faster than you can catch.

“is it too early to say i’ve never felt tension like this before? if we weren’t in here….,” you trail off, you know exactly what you want to say.

“no i get it. fuckin’ magnetic,” then he wipes under his nose. he’s eager for any piece of you you’re willing to give. if it’s a touch, a thought, a look. anything. “if we weren’t here what?”

he’s so naturally flirtatious. you don’t think he even means to be. he’s cutely bad at eye contact sometimes, like your presence overwhelms him. then other times, like when it’s just you and him, it feels you’re the only one in the villa, actually the whole planet.

you lean in closer to his face, nose to nose, “i’m not telling you yet.” then you’re back sitting up straight.

“fine, princess. what’s your morning like?”

“well, mr pro hero, i always wanna be in bed as long as possible. cuddles in bed, morning sex, breakfast in bed, some shitty tv. on the weekend at least.”

bakugou raises his eyebrows, “just the weekend? we can stretch that midweek too, i think.”

you’re trying to hide your smile, biting it down, “and then after i’m happy and fed, you can do whatever you do in the gym.”

“fucked and fed.”

you slap his arm, “katsuki!”

he grabs your hand in the air and shrugs his shoulders. then sweetest, he loops his fingers with yours, “‘m not wrong.”

it’s the demons that push you to ask your next question. you’re supposed to find out about his family, his background, there’s so many questions you can ask about his job.

“what’s your favourite position?”

you wish you were wearing sunglasses right now, so you can subtly stare at his abdomen and all the scars that run over it.

bakugou’s laugh is short and huffy, like he wasn’t expecting that question but he’ll entertain you with an answer.

“i hope you know that even though i’ve never had a girlfriend, it doesn’t mean i fuck around.”

ah yes. this gorgeous prohero has never been locked down. it’s a fact he said a few days ago at the firepit. you’re not sure whether to take it as a red flag or not.

you’ve got no reason to assume he’s lying to you yet so you nod.

“okay! now answer me.”

he squeezes your hand in his, now resting your hands on his stomach. katsuki’s really thinking about this question, scrunching his nose and then releasing.

“this isn’t a cop out, but i love missionary where i have my partner folded,” then he flickers his gaze over to you, “y’know. like her knees to her ears. get to see her face and go deep.”

fuck, fuck, fuck. fuck.

“that’s like equally romantic, equally dirty.” you’re so turned on you hope it isn’t obvious. has anyone gone to the hideaway during the day?

bakugou shrugs. he wonders how you’d sound moaning his name. “i like knowin’ for sure i’m makin’ them feel good. tell me yours.”

with your other hand, you can’t help it, you’re back to drawing shapes on his chest. his other hand is back on your thigh, “i like when the guy is sitting and i’m sitting on top of him. the lotus position? that one is insane.”

“you’re just like me. you love some eye contact and feelin’ it deep, huh?”

you’re smiling at him, “and we can kiss while i cockwarm you.”

you both never realise when you switch to making it personal. like you know someday in the future you both will be doing this.

“cockwarm?” he pushes his sunglasses up his nose. squeezes your thigh.

“if your dick was inside me but not moving or thrusting. thats cockwarming.”

bakugou stares at your lips when you talk, how they curl and go into o shapes.

“oh fuck,” he breathes, tapping your thigh with two fingers, “yeah, that’s sexy.”

“hm,” you mumble, adjusting to now lay slightly on top of him. you stretch your legs out beside his, your arm across his chest and your head just under his.

there’s a few seconds of silence, choosing what’s the best decision to take next that doesn’t include having sex with you somewhere.

“we gotta talk about somethin’ else before i drag you into that fuckin’ hideaway at god knows what time it is.” he grunts, pulling at his shorts and adjusting his body on the bed. katsuki pulls off his sunglasses to rub a palm down his face.

“okay, okay!” you perch your head on his chest and his hand drifts down to your lower back. “when did you move here? you grew up in japan, right?”

he leaves his glasses off now, “yeah i did, i moved here about five years ago? i live in the south now.”

“i live near there too! about an hour drive,” something in common. “so, you must know some japanese.”

he chuckles and you feel his body shake under you, “it’s my native language so i know pretty much everythin’, babe.”

katsuki’s fascinated at how easy this is with you. that apparently it just took him to go in a dating show to find a woman he wants to keep forever.

you sit up on his chest slightly, tits now in his face and lips so reachable. his cock aches just a little.

“say something.”

“what should i say?”

“anything.”

bakugou thinks for a seconds then grins. he says a sentence and you only recognise one word.

“matcha? did you say matcha?” you pout, “you sound so sexy.”

you didn’t think he could get sexier. his voice is deeper in japanese, heck, it’s husky and intimate.

“i did,” he says in english, “any guesses?”

“something about me with my matcha?”

“close. i said ‘you want head first, matcha second in the morning’.”

you burst into giggles at that, your forehead flopping onto his shoulder. bakugou feels his heart swell at making you laugh.

“you’re so stupid,” you grin, “i know how to say hello and thank you.”

nearly everybody knows how to say that in japanese but bakugou thinks you’re incredibly cute. especially because you look so proud at your knowledge.

“go on then.”

“konnichiwa ! and arigato !”

bakugou thinks he’s going to die. especially, when he doesn’t say a word and your smile slowly drops into confusion.

“was that wrong? did i pronounce those wrong?”

“no, no, no. you’re perfect, just real fuckin’ cute, baby.”

“okay, good. arigato katsuki!”

“no problem, princess. now tell me about your family. who do i have to look out for?”

katsuki shoves his hands in his pockets, it’s going to ruin the pleats down his trouser legs but he’s not sure if his telltale sign for lying is his sweatier than usual palms so they have to stay hidden.

“a work thing. it’s for charity.”

mitsuki hums as kenji’s hands sink into her blonde and grey fluffy locks. she’s already suspicious, squinting one eye like there’s something else.

“ma.” katsuki whines, taking his fingers through his hair, then realising he might have messed it up so he fluffs out the section again. his mother laughs. “why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

“why couldn’t yn look after kenji this evening?”

bakugou scoffs, shifts on one leg. then his other. “i don’t know? ask her.”

“mama buy new dress. shiny!”

bakugou’s eyes are the shape of golf balls as he looks at kenji, now fiddling with the pearls around mitsuki’s neck. he’s never told his son to shut up before but the urge overwhelms him deeply.

“is that so, kenji? mama bought a new dress and papa is in a ferdinand giovanni suit. an expensive suit with a new haircut. huh.” mitsuki tilts her head, brushing her thumb against katsuki’s forehead to catch a few cut hairs. katsuki knows he can just spin around and go. kenji is in safe hands here but—, “you’re taking yn aren’t you! you guys are finally trying dating!”

katsuki starts to back away slowly, a fuck is at the tip of his tongue but (yn colour eyes) are staring back at him. he holds his hands up in defense because his mother is attacking him. “no, no we aren’t. don’t put stupid stuff in kenji’s head. i mean it, ma.”

“yes, of course. for kenji.” but mitsuki has a smile akin to the cheshire cat. she too, is trying not to swear, a bouquet of fuck yeses needing to escape her. though she holds it in for the sake of kenji in her arms, “buy her flowers! she’d appreciate them.”

katsuki finally turns, running his palm down his face in exasperation, “bye kenj!”

“looks like we’re adding another chair to the table at christmas!”

“ma! i’m serious, nothin’ around kenji!”

it’s normal to be nervous before a first date, bakugou knows it’s normal but now his palms are sweaty for a whole new reason and the pleats in his slacks are going to flatten. he cares about these pleats way too goddamn much.

he can practically smell the sweet sweaty scent brewing from him and the extra spritz of cologne he gave himself in the car… now he’s unsure if he smells sickly. maybe the roses he’s holding can be a neutraliser. do you even fucking like roses?

three knocks. just like his usual ones when he drops off kenji. there’s a shuffle on the other side of the door, most likely you trying to get to the handle of whatever the hell you’re wearing. mentally preparing himself for what you’re going to look like isn’t enough, maybe if he pricks himself with a rose thorn he will snap out of his nervousness. then a clatter of metal to the floor and a little, “oh shit!”

“baby. it’s me,” bakugou says, fixing his shirt collar and standing up straight. everyone says his posture is terrible, today it won’t be.

“sorry! i’m coming, i’m coming,”

three steps and the door swings open. it’s as if someone has slid behind bakugou and put damp cloth under his nose to make him pass out. he’s got to grip the door frame as he stares at you from top to bottom, bottom to top.

“wow. fuck. you look… fuckin’ wow.”

your face is all made up, pretty, sexy. dewy skin, with dark pink blush, these fluttering eyelashes and dark eyeliner. bakugou can’t name the black stuff you put on the inside of your eyeline or if that’s different to the stuff you put around your eyes but everything inside him is twitching to find out. to find out more. to kiss it off you and sneak under your dress.

you’ve got a black bodycon dress on— floor length and it’s covered in tiny sparkles that practically wink at katsuki. every time he glances away from your hip, there’s glitter at your breast, your side, your thighs. it’s strapless, mesh around your stomach and he wants to grab you, squeeze you. fuck, he really wants to dip under your dress right now.

what doesn’t help at all is how your palm is splayed against your chest, holding the dress to your body as you’re still yet to zip up the back. about to expose the full expanse of your back, bakugou’s a revving motor dying to get started, to feel, to taste but he’s holding himself back from dragging you to your bedroom and having his way with you.

“you didn’t have to get me roses!” you giggle and he can tell you’re feeling a little overwhelmed. your eyes are a little wider than usual, he notices the goosebumps across your forearms. though you’re not nervous, about to pass out like he is. you lightly peck his cheek then swipe away the gloss residue with the pad of your thumb. bakugou’s cheeks flush like you pressed a button, way too close for him to even pretend to act normal. he’s grateful when you finally swipe the rose bouquet out of his damn hands though when you turn to make your way to your kitchen, the back of your dress unzipped, bakugou hardens immediately.

the beautiful slope of your back. smooth skin, the top of your ass just before it curves. he can see every mark, the clasp of your necklace hanging at your shoulders. fuck. he follows you like you’re a mermaid luring him into the sea with your song.

“oh, err… thought it would be nice?” he mumbles, staring at you with one hand, bop around the kitchen to fill up a vase with water and stuffing the roses inside.

then when you’re done, as if the roses were just a shield covering him from your inspection, you step up close to katsuki, so close you hear his breath hitch. that gives you a kick of confidence, something you’ll keep in your back pocket.

“they are nice. i’ve never been given roses before,” you mumble, biting down on your lip. you still haven’t asked him to do up your dress like you asked in the text. bakugou feels like a deer in headlights, waiting for your next move. you won’t take your focus off his face and he can feel your stare at every part of him. his neatly plucked eyebrows, he was getting a bit of a unibrow before… he’s got on lip balm and it’s making his lips shine cutely. the scar on his face is freshly moisturised, eyelashes kissing his cheekbones and he is the one who looks pretty here.

“you’ve only dated losers before me,” he grunts, satisfied when you laugh, even rolling your eyes at him. now not with anything to hold, bakugou’s hands are plastered to his sides, unlike last time when you were together when he was all over you. fuck, you’re so beautiful, it’s intimidating.

“you look so gorgeous. this suit…,” you run the tip of your finger across the lapel of his suit jacket. you can tell it’s expensive, it sits full of shape across his shoulders, unbuttoned because it’s bakugou katsuki you’re dealing with here. “sexy and you’ve got a haircut!” a manicured hand cradles bakugou’s neck, fingers lightly brushing the hair on the back of his head. your thumb presses down on a vein on his neck.

“don’t say that shit to me. not when you look like a fuckin’ doll,” it’s all whispers from him, every inhale and he’s swallowing your perfume, sweet, citrus, cinnamon. he wants to eat you up, every part of you. “you look f-fuckin’ insane, baby.”

your smile glows, white teeth revealing like you’re trying to seduce him and bakugou might die, here and now. he grips your kitchen table top. “i can tell you’re nervous, ‘ki.”

shiny lips curving to call him out. fuck.

bakugou stands up straighter, already managing to slouch within that time, “the fuck? no i’m not.”

“you’re not touching me. usually i’m dragging your hands off me. and i can feel your pulse, it feels like 120 per minute.”

downsides of dating a doctor.

your thumb moves from his vein, hand clutching at the front of his neck, slightly pressing down on his wind pipe. you study as bakugou’s eyes laze from the pressure, ruby eyes half lidded but never leaving your face.

he doesn’t scoff like usual at your comment though red paints across the apples of his cheeks, a deeper maroon than before. “i wanna get this right. need this date to go right for us,” then he inhales, “can i touch you?”

your apartment is pin drop silent, aside from bakugou’s heavy breaths. you meant it earlier, he does look gorgeous. his hair is cut shorter than the last time you saw him, freshly done like he got it done only this morning. he smells delectable, a different cologne than his everyday one, more amber, woody. his eyebrows are neatly trimmed and his skin is glowing, his stupid quirk working overtime. it’s the scar across his cheek that you particularly love but you can’t take your hand off his neck.

it’s as if he’s at your mercy, watching your every move like you’re in control here. bakugou’s never been submissive in the times you’ve been intimate with him. hell, you don't think he ever lets anyone take the reins in any decisions in his life. you press down on his throat and his eyes drop down to your lips.

“only if you zip up my dress. i tried to use a crochet hook but it didn’t work.”

bakugou gives a strong nod, “spin ‘round for me.”

you press your stomach into your kitchen counter, palm still holding up the front of your dress to your breasts. bakugou’s presence is heavy behind you, warming you up just from his body heat. you’ve given him permission to touch you, you’re about to turn to look at him when instead of zipping up your dress, two paw-like hands use your clothing malfunction to his advantage.

bakugou wipes his sweaty hands on his slacks before sliding them onto your bare waist.

you gasp at his touch, “katsuki!”

“you said i can touch, right?” he whispers, hand dragging over to your stomach, a finger running down your spine. “is this okay, baby?”

your breath hitches, stickiness forming between your legs at the harsh timbre of his voice. you were not prepared for this right now, this tiny stupid thong you’re wearing wasn’t made for you to soak through it during the first half hour of wear. though you lean back into bakugou, the top of your ass pressing right onto his stiff cock.

you’re about to question him on it, ask him when the hell did this happen, when his lips press onto your neck, fingers brushing over your bare nipples.

he’s going to play you like a toy.

“i need to eat you out, babygirl. you’ve gotta let me. please,” he moans against your skin, teeth nipping on your shoulder ever so lightly. “just need a taste, have you come on my tongue before we go. i need it.”

you’re blinking rapidly, shocked at the pure seeping desperation in his voice. every word is like syrup, pouring into your head and heating right at your pussy. your clit throbs, especially when he pinches your nipple and massages your tit right after.

you don’t have the words yet, barely holding up your dress as you back up into him, cock cradled by your ass. arousal that was only creeping up inside of you before, rushes in like a storm. this muscled man who doesn’t lose against the world’s strongest is begging you for a taste, politely asking like he couldn’t just flip you over knowing you’d let him.

“fuck me instead. right here,” you say, a moan slipping past your lips when bakugou uses the body butter you lathered on your chest earlier to properly massage your breasts. each one with equal attention. your back arches over your kitchen island, standing on your tiptoes for the best position for bakugou to slide right into you. all of a sudden you feel like a dog in heat, ready to pant and grind to feel satisfied.

“no, i can’t,” he strains, palms beginning to get sweaty, rolling back into your ass like his words are unable to match his actions, “fuck. i need to fuck you in a bed, properly. not your fuckin’ kitchen.”

you look back at him, hair whipping around as you do. you level him with a frown, hips rubbing into him. you feel delirious, frustrated, your dress is thin but it’s tight and he either needs to pull it up or off so you can feel him.

“you know where my bedroom is,” you push, lifting yourself up to press your back against his chest and laying your head on his shoulder.

bakugou groans like you’re causing him pain, a knife in his chest and slowly twisting. he’s so hard, all the blood is rushing to his cock instead of his head, “i’m not fuckin’ you. i need to do this right. you don’t do that on a first date.”

the logic is stupid. you’re not teenagers, why are you abiding by these rules that don't mean anything? you’ve had a baby with this man, for fucks sake.

“what are you even on about? that doesn’t matter.” you let go of the front of your dress, letting it fall down. the bodycon of the skirt is stays tight around your hips.

“fuck, i know. i know it doesn’t but i’m not. n-not the first date.” bakugou grits his teeth, forcing himself to step away from his dick imprinting into your ass. “now let me fuckin’ eat you.”

that causes you to laugh, your whole body hot like a furnace from words and fondling. “your logic makes no sense. who knew you were such a horny romantic.”

you spin around to lean against the counter top, your chest on full display. his hands gravitate back onto your body like magnets and bakugou hopes he’s not dribbling right now.

“i’m gonna fuckin’ explode. say yes or no to me.”

pent up is the wrong word for whatever bakugou katsuki is right now. there’s the vein popping out his forehead. he’s all suited, black shirt buttoned up to the top, black tie perfect around his neck. if you just saw his body he’d look professional, ready for royalty. but he’s all twitchy for a release. you can smell his caramel sweat in the air and he keeps gnawing on his lip like he needs his mouth to be doing something else.

what makes you laugh the most is, after all of this he’s not even going to come, he just wants you to.

“fine. on your knees then.”

if you want to speak to him like that, that’s okay. two hands on your hips spin you back around so you’re facing the counter top and he bends you over, having you lay flat so your legs dangle ever so slightly off the edge.

“katsuki! i’m off the ground!”

you feel his fingertips at your ankle as he pulls the fabric of your dress up past your knees, your thighs and gathering it all to sit at your chest like a pillow. then he adjusts you again, perfectly placing you so your ass and pussy are hanging just off the counter top with easy access for him to sink right into.

first, your tiny light pink thong. bakugou adjusts himself in his slacks before he kneels, “what the fuck is the point of wearin’ this?”

he pings the string against your hip. it goes right back between your ass cheeks, your pussy dampening the thin fabric, eating it up.

“i don’t want panty lines,” you moan, eyes falling shut when he spreads apart your ass, massaging each globe and spreading again. “do something, katsuki. i’m going to die.”

always so dramatic, but he’d be an idiot not to listen. he’s quick to pull off your thong, gather spit in his mouth and release it all in between your cheeks. he can smell whatever vanilla coconut cream you’ve rubbed into your skin and it only makes his mouth water more.

you gasp, “oh my god.” you’re jolting all over the place, legs trailing around and bakugou pinches your thigh.

“stop fuckin’ movin’,” he mumbles before sinking into your ass and licking around your hole. teeth sink into your right cheek and another moan bubbles from you. you’ve never had anyone eat your ass and you definitely didn’t think your baby daddy would be the one to do it. it’s messy, it’s loud, it feels like sweet sweet pleasure bursting through you like you’re a flower bed being picked.

“i’m so wet, ‘ki. this feels so good,” you’re all muffled from the counter top, trying to grind back into his face but he’s holding you down. “more, i need more.”

you’re a raging nerve and if you were any more conscious you’d be embarrassed by how wet you are, you can feel come seeping out of your hole, over your lips. instead, you’re still shuffling to get closer to him, squeaks and mewls brushing out.

bakugou is on his own timing and once he deems that he’s teased you enough, that he can see his spit slick and shining all over you, he licks across your slit.

a moan rumbles through him, thumbs pulling you apart so he can see your honey practically coated and dripping from you. you’re whining like a desperate puppy, “more, more, ‘ki.”

bakugou stuffs his face into you like it’s his last meal. you smell good, delicious, like you but raw and wet and he has to press his palm over his groin for a moment of release. he’s licking every part of you, stuffing his tongue in your hole, cleaning you up and sucking on your clit.

“oh fuck, oh fuck,” you’re eternally grateful. you’re going to be praying at the temples later because you’re so lucky you bagged yourself an eater. there’s nothing to grip onto minus your dress and you don’t want to mess up your makeup by pressing your face on the counter.

you’re all slack jawed, barely sentient, unable to reach behind you to touch his hair.

“did you buy this dress?” his lips brush against yours when he talks. you can’t help but shiver.

your lower half is burning tight with desire, rope thinning about to snap, “w-what?”

“i told you i’d buy you a new dress,” he massages at your ass again, nose nudging between your legs, “and you went and bought one. i wanted to buy it for you.”

you can barely understand what he’s saying, brain fuddled and fogged. “it doesn’t matter. i-it was a treat for myself. i wanna come, baby.”

you’ve never called him baby before. your legs are kicking around again, hole quivering like it’s begging to be filled.

“how much was the dress, hm?” bakugou coos and to your delight, he rubs his thumb over your clit, quickly licking at the sticky white that oozes from you.

“i dunno, it was on sale,” you moan, biting down on your lip. you’re going to have to touch up your face. are you going to be late to this gala? pleasure blossoms through you, sweat now film on your forehead.

“i need a number, sweetheart. pissed me off that you bought one,”

three hundred and fifty? three hundred and seventy five? you just wanted a dress as pretty and luxurious as everyone else that’s going to be there. you can’t show up as your pro hero baby father’s date in a random dress not looking the part. how embarrassing.

he’s back to lapping you up like he’s unable to stay away. every kiss and suck is loud, his breaths heavy like he’s trying to smell and eat you at the same time.

“three hundred and fifty,” you breathe, “three fifty!”

bakugou huffs, the joy of satisfying you over run by his annoyance, “i’ll send you that.”

you don’t have it in you to reply because bakugou rolls you onto your back with his hands on your waist. you can see him now, perfect wheat blonde tufts though his scarlet eyes are dim, devilish.

two fingers slide into you with a squelch and you lift your thigh onto his shoulder, your whole body feels like dough that just needs kneading. “you’re so good at this.”

it’s like he knows you too well. every part to press, which part of you to focus on. bakugou curls his fingers to rub against your walls, a small grin from your compliment. “you wouldn’t have me if i wasn’t.”

you’re floating on cloud nine when his lips suction over your clit and then you’re a snowball tumbling down a mountain, white flashing behind your eyes. your hips are jolting, bouncing and bakugou presses his palm into your lower stomach, making your orgasm ten times harder.

more honey comes from you, bakugou’s chin wet, nose stuffed in the hair at your mound. he vibrates when your fingers pull at his hair, a loud whine falling from your lips. you’ve never been this loud before.

“fuck, baby,” you grunt, back arching off the table. it’s unlike you all of this. you don’t think you’ve ever received head like this, “i’m going to die. oh my god. s-so good, baby.”

bakugou feels starstruck by you, eyes laser focused on every bodily reaction, every movement you make. he knows what it means when your palm sleepily pushes at his forehead and you’re dead weight on your counter top.

one last kiss to your twitching clit and bakugou remembers to stuff your thong into his inside blazer pocket. he rises to his feet slowly, sucking you off his fingers and wiping his face with his hand.

“you good, babygirl? you did so well there.” he rubs your thigh soothingly as you slowly nod. he’s mindful to grab some facial tissue you have on the counter top to lightly wipe you down before shoving your dress over your ass.

he remembers how much you craved his touch last time, a hug, arms around his body, so he lifts your limp body and hugs you, happy when you snuggle into him.

“we need to do that everyday. maybe over the washing machine next,”

bakugou chuckles, carefully zipping up the back of your dress.

you pull off him, arms hanging off his shoulders, legs on either side of his hips.

“you’ve not kissed me yet,” you slightly pout, staring at his lips then flickering up to your eyes.

bakugou’s lips are parted, watching you like you’re a goddess incarnate. it feels like his mind is racing a million miles per hour, what else can he do to pleasure you, make you happy?

“didn’t wanna mess up your face. looks like you’ve spent time on it,” every word comes from the back of his throat, a rumbled whisper in your kitchen.

you shrug, “it’s fine. have to do touch ups anyway now.”

bakugou katsuki isn’t a delicate person by nature. he’s rough, he’s fast. when he cooks at home it’s with skill and precision. nothing about it is delicate. when he’s at work he’s strength and power. with his son, he’s honest and patient. but with you, he’s conscious about being delicate. still partly refusing to touch your face even though there’s a demon at the back of his head wanting to mess it up completely by throwing you on your bed just the room over. but he slides his hands on your waist and pecks you sweetly.

you press back eagerly, then again, holding his body to yours so there’s no room for him to escape.

“you look so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, “i’m gonna look like a fuckin’ idiot beside you.”

your giggle can make flowers bloom, tilting your head to insert your tongue inside his mouth. he tastes like you and the sparemint gum he chewed in the car ride over. your tongues swirl, brushing against each other until you decide to suck on his, causing a deep carnal growl to burst out of bakugou. his grip on your waist gets rougher, tighter, blunt finger nails over the mesh of your dress. you decide to finish off with biting down on his lip, tugging it and letting go.

“how’d you know this wasn’t an old dress? i took the tags off?”

you can see the arousal swimming in bakugou’s eyes, delicate grip disappearing with a blink of an eye. “kenji told me.” is all he can mumble, “i’m gonna pay for it.”

you don’t mind if he does. you felt bad asking him even though he offered before but he’s got a fight in him like he’s not going to let you say no. “okay. are we going to be late?”

once you know your legs won’t crumble when you stand, you tap bakugou’s bicep for him to move over but instead he lifts you to the ground like a princess. you bite away the adoration.

“nah. these things go on until the early morning. just wanted to see how you were feeling before we head over,” bakugou fixes his cufflinks and smooths out the creases on his suit arms.

“do you want me to help you out?”

“with what?”

bakugou makes a strained gasp, body hunching over. it becomes a grunty moan that blends into a pleasured sigh. rubbing bakugou’s hardened dick over his slacks makes you want to laugh, especially as his eyes flutter shut and he grips on the counter top for stability.

“that feels… your hands are so much smaller than mine.”

“think i can make you come like this?”

bakugou’s eyes snap open, sending you a glare, “fuck no, i’m not stainin’ anythin’.”

you pout, mumbling to yourself, “that would be sexy though.”

when your fingers begin fiddling with the button and zip of his slacks, his hands fly to yours, “it’s okay, sweetheart.”

you pause, “but—,”

“promise, it’s all good.”

“in the car then.”

“baby.”

“aha! you didn’t say no there!”

overwhelmed was an understatement. even after another fondle and makeup check in bakugou’s porsche, you still feel completely out of place. for one, everyone is either beautiful or rich or beautiful and rich. pro heroes practically dance around the room, muscled and long limbs with luxury skincare routines you know they must do. there’s governors and people from the hero commission along with sponsors chatting to each other and all you can do is clutch onto bakugou’s bicep.

since he decided to come through the back entrance, nobody has noticed you both yet. you’re stood in the shadows by the fire exit, observing the scene.

“you good?”

bakugou’s concerned. his eyebrows have these little creases in between and lips turning into a pout. that snaps you out of it, this is not who you’re going to be tonight.

you stand up straight, do a deep inhale and a long exhale. you tighten your purse in your grip and plaster a grin over your face. bakugou’s amazed by you all the time. for simple things like how you’re able to look good in socks with crocs and complex things like how you’re able to get kenji ready in ten minutes when usually it takes him twenty. he’s also amazed at you now, highly terrified a moment ago and you’ve calmed yourself, prepped for the event.

“yeah! panicked for a bit there but i’m excited.”

“did you learn that through those self regulating toddler videos?”

“no!” you say a little quickly. you did, you’d admit. it just takes a few deep breaths and everyone’s ready to go, under fives and everyone above.

“okay, baby,” he laughs, pecking the top of your head, “if anyone bothers you or you don’t wanna talk to those old geezers just look at me, i’ll come save you.”

you give your baby father a salute, “yes sir!”

the grin bakugou’s got is slow and sexy, “is it stupid that i wish we just stayed home and fuh—,”

“dynamight! what are you doing hiding back here?”

hawks, the president of the hero commission walks over. you gasp at the sigh of him, thick fluffy eyebrows and curled dark blonde locks. you won’t admit it but he looks better in real life than he does on the tv. he’s shorter than bakugou, aged beautifully from when you used to be obsessed with him as a teen. your grip tightens around bakugou’s bicep and he quirks a brow at you.

“oh you brought a date tonight. that’s a first.”

you don’t mean to flush hot, look to the ground, and giggle a little. bakugou’s stare becomes confused, you don’t even get like that around him. do you?

“yeah, this is yn. kenji’s ma.” bakugou likes hawks most of the time. he’s known him for years, his whole hero career and time before that when he was a student. he likes how hawks always agrees with his points during meetings and is lenient when a civilian wants to sue him for damages. what he doesn’t like is how he winks at you and you’re unable to make eye contact, leaning into bakugou like you want to hide behind him.

you wave shyly, “hey, yep that’s me.”

“you must be something special if you got him to come to one of these things.” and his smile makes yours even bigger, “i’ll see you both around.”

he gives a half wave, stuffing his hands back in his pockets and strolling off with easy nonchalance bakugou doesn’t even know if he can possess.

bakugou’s about to blurt out something stupid, something unbelievably jealous but you’re quicker.

“i completely forgot you must work with him. he was my favourite hero when i was a kid, wow. i hate that he lost his quirk.”

bakugou chews the inside of his cheek, walking forward with you towards the main hall where everybody is, “i died the day he lost his quirk and edgeshot helped bring me back to life.”

you wave your hand in dismissal, “i’m gonna tell my friends i met hawks. thee hawks. wow.”

he’s definitely going to bring this up to you later.

once you’re in the hall, you’re mesmerised. the stage has scarlet red velvet curtains with golden tassels at the top and bottom. there’s circular tables dotted around the room with white table cloths and silver cutlery. every table has a fancy glass dome with a terrarium inside. you have half the mind to swipe one before you go and you know bakugou would approve. there’s even waiters in suits floating around, holding trays of champagne flutes.

“dynamight. for you and your guest.”

“thanks,” bakugou grunts, taking both flutes and handing one to you.

“do you still not drink?”

you remember from the night at the party when you first met. he was cradling a single beer the whole night whilst you were throwing back shots like no tomorrow. you’re a heavy weight…. sometimes.

“not really. not at these events, gotta be on form.” he clinks his glass with yours, bending his arm for you to hold his bicep again, “this can be your next one.”

“katsuki! we’re over here.”

you turn like it was your name that was called, throwing back the sparkling champagne because you’re going to need it for this much socialisation with a group of people you’ve never met. you place the empty flute on a tray walking by and bakugou automatically hands you the next one.

“lemme know when you wanna get outta here.” he whispers into the shell of your ear.

you hum in response, but you’re very quickly enveloped in joyful conversation and your baby daddy in a scene you’ve never seen him in. he’s the same yet different. replying in half-hearted grunts and witty comebacks to these people he’ll deny loving. he crosses his arms across his chest when he leans against the wall, staring over at you every sixty seconds to make sure you’re good.

this is the bakugou katsuki that his friends know. you’re surprised they know you too but just as much as bakugou allows them to.

“kenji definitely gets all his cuteness from you,” red riot, kirishima jokes and you can tell bakugou loves him because he doesn’t even roll his eyes. he’s got a matching suit to bakugou but instead of a black tie, he’s got on a red one, matching his hair. kirishima is handsome, not as much as your katsuki, but enough that you’d turn if you saw him walking down the street. it’s even more endearing that bakugou’s looking at him fondly, until, “happy he finally took you out on a date, it was killin’ me hearin’ about you all the time.”

“do you wanna shut the fuck up or?” bakugou threatens, then checks your expression. you’re not creeped out or embarrassed by him. you just join in the laughter.

“oh i don’t doubt it. i think i know when he started.” you’re assuming when you said no the first time after he came back from his mission.

you’ve met kaminari once back in bakugou’s office, so you’re grateful for a somewhat familiar face. he doesn’t help bakugou’s case though, “you defo do not.”

kirishima shakes his head, vermillion locks blocking his vision as he does. “you’re strong to keep saying no for two years, i would have—,”

bakugou slaps his hand on kirishima’s shoulder, levelling with a stare and they’re having a whole conversation with just their eyes. there’s an argument, swearing, kirishima laughing back. “bro seriously? anythin’ else we can talk about?” he says through gritted teeth.

you don’t have time to digest the fact bakugou’s wanted you for years because bouncy candyfloss pink hair comes rushing over to you, gripping her sage green gown so she doesn’t trip.

“oh my gosh! yn!”

you’ve met mina once when you dropped kenji over to bakugou’s and she was all over you. compliments and questions and you never did that catch up she offered. mina looks the part, with her beautiful gown and toned biceps. she navigates the room with ease, waving hello to the three men before giving all her attention to you.

“mina! hey! nice to see you again!"

you’re pulled in a massive hug and when she lets go, she holds you at arms length. “so happy you guys have finally got together! such a sexy couple—,”

you laugh awkwardly, adjusting your bracelets, “oh we aren’t a couple, just dating?”

mina’s features drop into a frown, but it’s not directed at you, but the blonde behind you. “why haven’t you asked her yet, kacchan! what the fuck!”

“what we’re doin’ is new! this is our first date!” bakugou exclaims, cheeks flushing berry red. you bite away a laugh because you definitely didn’t expect all this attention, nor bakugou to be so on edge.

“a hero gala for your first date? the next one better be something romantic!” mina argues, then looks over at you in sympathy, “he’s definitely a better father than boyfriend.”

“tellin’ yn how shit i am, isn’t exactly helpin’ my case here!”

mina shrugs, “i never said i was your wingwoman. i did that enough in high school.” then she nudges you, “he was terrible at talking to girls then.”

giggles bubble up inside of you, the champagne hitting the exact right spot. you’re having much more fun than you expected in his little friendship group. you thought bakugou would be groaning away at that revelation being exposed to you, pulling you away from her but he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room. the smile on his face is small but to anyone minus you it’s a revelation to even see something other than a smirk.

your hand drifts to his forearm at the attention and without thinking, he scoops you into him by the waist. it’s another smile from you, hands on his chest as he gazes down.

“oh wow, you two are actually sickeningly cute,” mina takes a sip of her champagne that magically found its way into her hand, “i’ve never seen him like this.”

bakugou’s eyes drop, “we fuckin’ get it. i like yn that’s why she’s my fuckin’ date tonight—,”

a short lady comes over, dressed in a black suit with a name badge on. you recognise the logo on the badge to match the charity. “sorry to bother, but can i have you four up at the front for promotional bits?”

the four heroes nod, bakugou sighing in annoyance. “sorry, gotta do this. i’ll be back as soon as.”

the pout he’s got is adorable, has you wanting to make a scene in front of everybody by shoving him against the wall and unbuttoning his shirt. “no, take your time, hero! i’ll busy myself at the bar and i have to check on kenji.”

bakugou leaves last behind the three regretfully. it takes a moment for you to snap out of the fact you’re still in the same position, just stuck staring at his back. you adore how he looms over everyone else, how wide his shoulders are and even how you can tell his friends are bothering him as they walk to the front. little shoves as he rakes his hands through his hair, before turning around to look at you.

you send him a grin, then make your way to the bar with a pep in your step. you wave over for another champagne and pull out your phone. the first being a text from bakugou’s mother.

it’s a photo of kenji in his high chair, rice stuck to his hands and a plastic knife next to poorly cut chunks of cucumber. mitsuki has him making vegetable sushi again.

Hope you’re having fun tonight, honey!

does she know you’re with her son tonight? you can see bakugou’s blonde head at the front by the stage, shaking hands with other men in suits. posing deadpan for a photo.

you’re sure bakugou mitsuki knows you’re out with her son tonight.

tell kenji to save some for me!

and i am!

that’s all you can manage, stuffing your phone back into your clutch to scan the room. you feel a presence beside you, it’s an older man, white short hair and beard. he’s got a suit on also and you’re softened when he apologises.

“sorry for sitting here, at my age i get tired from standing too much and the alcohol doesn’t help.”

you shake your head, “no it’s okay! are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

the man chuckles, grateful when a glass of water is poured for him by the bartender, “i’ve been to so many of these that they all blend into one but they’re necessary for the cause. these events bring in more money than anything else we do.”

you nod slowly, “what is it that you do?”

the man blinks at you in shock, but it wipes away, “i’m the founder of the charity. started it back in the eighties.”

“oh! oh, i’m here with my boyfriend tonight. he’s one of the heroes. he knew that i’d be passionate about this cause because i work in hospitals.” you ramble, slightly embarrassed you didn’t know the man, confused even more at how easy it was to refer to bakugou as your boyfriend. you take a sip of your champagne.

“the local hospitals? are you a doctor?”

you nod, “yeah! i get lots of kids coming in all the time, more now than ever.”

the man introduces himself as kent and easily you both get swept up in conversation. he tells you a little about his childhood and his brother that died as a teen. you tell him about the children that come through your wards and the effects unsafe streets are also bringing to the parents.

“you should be at the front taking photos with the heroes!”

“i can say the exact same to you with all the work you do,” kent laughs though he’s got a somber look of understanding, “they’re probably wondering where i’ve been.”

it’s the same shirt lady in a suit coming over to usher kent away, “mr kent! there you are! we need you at the front again, then we can get you a chair.”

“yeah yeah, i’m coming.” he slowly climbs off the stool but not before turning back to you, “yn, i’m going to get my team in contact with you. get some more sponsors for the hospital, okay? set up that youth club you mentioned.”

you nod gleefully, eyes glowing, “yes, of course! lovely talking to you!”

he takes both your hands in his with a shake, “you too miss, keep up the good work. we can all make the world a better place.”

with that he’s off with the lady, looping his arm with hers as they make their way to the front.

warmth spreads inside of you like a fireplace on a winters night. the smile won’t leave your cheeks at the conversation and outcome. the kids are going to love it, your nurses and the doctors are going to be shocked you even got this funding.

you hop out of your seat, walking towards the band playing smooth blues. there’s a few people crowded around dancing together, laughing and twirling. the energy is infectious, even swaying your hips as you hold your champagne glass.

you’re barely alone for a few minutes before you feel a presence behind you, then a hand lightly on your tricep. you want to throw your arms around the neck of whoever’s behind you, kiss him in front of everybody and tell him how much you’re enjoying tonight.

“did you see who i—,”

you pause. it is not your baby father.

however you do recognise him. pro hero grand, otherwise known as shindou yo. you only know his real name because your best friend in university had a thing for him, all his merch and would go to his meet and greets. she’d probably murder you if she knew he was standing before you right now.

“hey, i saw you dancing alone here. i was wondering if i could join you?”

his voice is smooth, attractive, a smirk on his face which isn’t cocky but gives off the impression as if he knows you’d say yes. his playboy image has always been a massive part of his brand as the vibration hero. saving civilians during the day and out with ladies during the night. he’s in a navy suit, not as pristine as bakugou’s but nice all the same. white shirt with a matching navy tie. his midnight black hair is shorter than you remember it being on posters a few years ago and his teeth are so white to the point of being fake. he might have been on a electric toothbrush advertisement recently?

“oh, erm sure? i’m just waiting for someone to finish up.” you pop the p at the end, scanning the room for bakugou. you can’t find him, probably been pulled away in a back room for more photos and statements.

shindou grins, swiping your half finished champagne glass out of your hand to place on a waiter's plate then interlocking his hand with yours and sliding a hand on your waist.

your glass is gone before you can speak, his hands on your body before you have a chance to choose. you don’t want to make a scene, especially in case things get back to bakugou and it embarrasses him somehow. you’re in his world here.

“sorry, you just looked so beautiful and i couldn’t leave you up here on your own,” he flirts, voice hitting every pleasure centre inside you but going dull at the end. you know you look good. you’ve seen yourself in the mirror and bakugou’s confirmed it multiple times for you back home.

though you slap on a polite smile, careful to not step on his feet. he’s adjusting your body like a puppet, moving on his timing, his pace. you exhale, unsure if it’s annoyance or alcohol buzzing in your head, “thank you. i appreciate it. i’m here with ka—,"

“how come i’ve never seen you around before? are you a rookie or with the charity?” he interrupts, abruptly letting go of your waist to twirl you around. your head is spinning once you’re back in his arms, one hand on his chest to stabilise yourself.

“s-sorry what did you ask?” you clarify, disoriented and tipsy.

where the hell is katsuki? or at least his friends?

“nothing, never mind. i can tell you’re nervous tonight, you really shouldn’t be looking like that.” he flicks his eyes up and down your body, particularly focusing on the mesh fabric around your stomach and then your lips. that comment bites you though, has your nose crinkling, top lip curled. “what’s your name, princess?”

he smirks in means to seduce you, pull you into the nearest bathroom and sink onto your knees for him. you laugh internally at the fact bakugou still has your underwear in his blazer pocket at this very moment.

“i’m not nervous at all actually. i think my friends are waiting for me, i’m going to—,”

“get the fuck off her.”

finally, it’s your golden hero, appearing beside you like your grimace was a beck and call. a little late but still here. everything in you gravitates to him though shindou’s hands stay stuck to your waist.

bakugou grinds on his teeth, jaw moving like a machine, eyes fixated to the hands on you. you notice a touch of powder on his nose, probably from the photos he was forced to take but it’s all oxymoronic as his stare looks villainous, like he’s a second away from blasting shindou into the ground. his black tie is loosened, blazer buttons unpopped and it all has you crooning to be back in his arms, rub your cheek against his like a dog in heat.

“seriously, bakugou? you still don't know how to talk to women?” shindou yo scoffs, turning back to you like he assumes you’d be laughing. you press a hand in his chest to pull him off you and he does let go reluctantly, looking more confused than you when you have to parallel park.

“he’s my boyfriend. what the hell are you on about?” you blurt, hands in the air like you just touched something disgusting. you guess you did with this irritating guy before you.

this is bakugou’s cue to cuss the guy like he usually does, threatening to kill him because the jealousy inside him was turning his blood into green goo. though that’s completely cleared up because you said boyfriend. not baby father but boyfriend.

shindou’s face twists into a grimace, “what?. i never knew that. she never told me that? why’d you let me dance with you?!”

bakugou yanks you under his arm, hand curving at your waist, “you didn’t give her the chance, you dickhead. if we weren’t here right now, i would have blasted you into a wall and watched your head bleed out. you’re the one with no game, fuckin’ prick.”

your mouth gapes open at bakugou’s snarl, how he towers over shindou yo with energy despite being the exact same height. you clutch onto his shirt beneath his jacket and bakugou takes that to assume you’re scared, that you’ve never seen him so violent. you’re anything but.

“go fuck yourself, bakugou.” shindou mutters, but there’s barely enough bite to his words, no threat like bakugou’s. there’s truly power in being the number four hero compared to his measly thirty fourth.

“kill yourself, dickhead.”

bakugou doesn’t bother, swooping you away from the situation, passing his friends and out of the hall.

“wait, where are we going?”

bakugou shoves a door open with his shoulder, cautiously pushing you inside and closing it behind him. you’re consumed by darkness, barely able to make out the shape of the large man beside you.

“w-where are we?” you hook your finger in his belt loop, “katsuki!”

“hold on, baby.”

a click and two lamps turn on. he’s shoved you inside a mini library. there’s a leather aubergine sofa in the centre of the room, books surrounding you along the walls, piles by each lamp and an old mahogany desk in the corner. you want to explore, brush your finger against the spines of these old dusty books and pretend to read one on that gorgeous sofa.

“i’m fuckin’ sorry. i saw you talkin’ to him but i didn't wanna intrude like those bastards who don’t like their girls talkin’ to other men,” he grunts, rubbing his hand roughly against his forehead, “but i think i’m exactly like those goddamn idiots. i wanted to kill that asshole.”

you don’t know if the temperature in the room increases for only you. bakugou’s not touching you again, leaning against the nearest wall with regret deep in his pores. he’s not looking at you out of shame, like he acted like a neanderthal that gave into his primal desires.

“i wasn’t seein’ shit though, right? you looked uncomfortable and i hated the way he spun you. wasn’t careful with you,” bakugou spits, looking at the floor.

“oh katsuki,” you coo, slotting yourself between his legs as he slouches against the wall. your hands are on his cheeks, his hair, down his chest. your body is a furnace, humming with heat and longing. he, the man that just threatened to kill a guy, is so adorable to you. you can tell where your son gets his pitiful pout from.

his tongue jabs inside his cheek, staring down at you with a tiny frown. never at you, always at himself. “what?”

your smile feels like a short death, an undoing of everything that makes him him, into something shaped exactly for you.

“thank you for saving me. i fucking hated him too,” you whisper, going down an octave as you fix his shirt collar, “didn’t like how he took my drink or touched me and when he said you can’t talk to women. i think you can talk to one.”

“yeah?” bakugou chuckles lowly, but he’s still strung up from what just happened, about this possibility of reading you wrong. he’s elated he didn’t. “you called me your boyfriend.”

that slaps you in your face, turning your gaze away from the smirk that’s slowly sneaking up his face. you read the book spines next to bakugou’s head, “did i? i don’t think i remember that.”

it’s like you’re in his office again, pretending you couldn’t remember the first time you slept together. “first date and i’m already gettin’ proposed to. i think i’m doing somethin’ good.”

you slap his chest but he’s quick to grab your hand, looping your fingers with his. “he was being rude to you and he doesn’t even know me. i had to say something.”

another piece of thread undoing from bakugou, his lungs from his chest in a splat to the floor. his heart will be next. people don’t need to stick up for him. they know he doesn’t care, can fight for himself with his mouth or fists. but you, you wanted to do it for him, even if it included fabricating a little lie.

he kisses your neck and you squirm, stuffing your body right up against his.

“you drive me goddamn crazy. you know that, don’t you? can’t handle you away from me, can’t handle you mad at me, can’t handle men talkin’ you. i can’t even handle touchin’ you.” he runs his nose up your neck and then he’s back against the wall.

but you’ve been riled up since he cursed at shindou, threatening to have his brains spilling on the floor. you’re pulling his shirt from where it’s tucked in his slacks, body alight, needing a touch, needing something. where's better than this pretty library?

“what’re you doin’?”

you exhale shakily, a tremor in your palms and bakugou still doesn’t get it. why your skin is so hot and your eyes so wide. he can only assume you’re fussing with him as a distraction.

“i’m sorry about what i said to him earlier, yn. i shouldn’t have said that around you. that must have sounded deranged, fuckin’ insane to you.”

you tut, so overwhelmed with your own desire your mind is on one track. either he’s naked or you, it doesn’t matter at this point. you lay his blazer collar flat, neatening him out, “i don’t care about that, katsuki.”

bakugou doesn’t know what to make of you, especially when you push off him to walk around the library for a breather. you’re clearly distracted but pretending you aren’t. staring at the green, gold and red vintage books along the wall. tilting your head to read the spines of some. you run your finger along a shelf and release a small sigh.

the man stalks over to you, a little frown on his features. one hand on a shelf and another drifting to your waist. “no? you sure?”

you purse your lips, then roll them, flicking your eyes over to him for a second then back to the books. he’s too close again. it feels like a glowing burning orb is settling in your lower stomach and you need to calm down. you could shove him on this gorgeous sofa and beg him to take you. would he let you? earlier he was saying he has to fuck you in a bed but in this library?

“baby, talk to me. i can see you’re overthinkin’ here. please,” he sighs, the guilt is so clear it could be stamped on his forehead.

though it’s all for the wrong reasons.

the noise from the main hall is a low buzz compared to the ticking grandfather clock in the corner of the room. every second becomes a trail of sweat trickling down your spine, wetness spreading between your thighs without any underwear on and your fingers twitching from pure arousal.

“are you too much of a gentleman to fuck me here?”

you ask him the same way you would if he wants a coffee or a tea. cats or dogs. fuck me here or fuck me back home?

bakugou splutters, lifting off the books to stand up straight. he can see all the signs now. it’s not fear, it's an uncontained need for him. “oh shit. i completely fuckin’ misread you here. i thought you were—,”

you place a hand back on his throat and it hushes him immediately. “katsuki, baby. answer my question?” you push, tucking your hair out of your face.

you’re shorter than him, smaller than him. you’re definitely not as strong as him but in this moment bakugou’s under your spell. he feels as if he’s a fool to think he ever had a footing dating you. you’ve always been in control, for when things start and end. for what he needs to do and when. he was strong to deny you earlier when you wanted him in his kitchen, but he’s not as strong now.

everything about you is soft, your face, your hands but your biceps tense when you push him towards the leather sofa. he lets you manoeuvre him, all he can do is hold your hips as you do so.

his knees bend and he’s seated as you stand.

“y-yeah. yes. fuck, you’re so…,” you wait for him to finish, your eyes running along his body. the fabric is taut against his thighs, chunky and thick as they spread. you want to ride one, bite one and his chest is so wide you’d love to rip his shirt open, have the buttons fly around everywhere. you’re ravished with thrill. “you can take anything from me, yn.”

you’re fascinated to see how easily you affect him. he was worried for you a mere minute ago and now he completely matches you, riled up by you being turned on by him.

your top teeth sink into your bottom lip, you’ve not touched him yet. his hands are flat on the sofa either side of him, eyes hooded as he lays his head back. he’s sinking into the furniture, getting comfortable so you’ll be comfortable on top of him.

“did you lock the door?” you ask.

he nods, “as soon as i got in here.”

your eyes narrow, “have you fucked in here before?”

bakugou smirks, “do you not wanna fuck if i have?”

you snarl, “no, what the—,”

he grabs your hand to drag you forward between his legs. your dress is too long and tight to straddle his lap, so he works on shimming your dress up to your ass. shiny legs revealing inch by inch and bakugou’s pants tighten, a harsh exhale out of his nose.

“i love when you’re jealous, baby. makes me know you want me,” he coos whilst you pout, “i usually sit in here when it gets too much out there.”

he’s listening to his dick when he does this, not his brain and he knows he won’t be able to handle what you’re going to do to him. now and life with you after. but for now he wants to see, he knows your panties are in his pocket so it’s going to be messy. bakugou holds all the fabric of your dress, resting it above your hips.

bakugou’s moan is guttural, coming from the depths of his chest like a caged animal let out into the wild. there’s shine along your inner thighs and he can smell how much you want him. he wants to throw you down on the sofa, have another taste, have you come on his tongue. or he can hold you as he sits on the sofa, pussy in his face, you clutching onto his hair.

he swears he doesn’t mean to, but he’s in the exact position for it. a hand curling around your thigh to pull you closer to him. bakugou leans into you, pressing his cheek into your thigh, nose at your mound, inhaling right between your legs. he’s warm, holding onto you like you’re a life support. you brush your hand through his hair, dragging it all off his forehead.

you let him stay because it’s perhaps one of the sexiest things you’ve seen. the blonde looks inebriated, drunk off the look and smell of you. his eyes flutter shut, grip almost rough on your thigh as he squeezes. like he can’t help it.

“f-fuck, if i knew you were like this…”

you poke his forehead with your pointer finger, stopping him from coming any closer. his lips are parted like he’s about to eat you alive. he just needs to stick out his tongue to lick your inner thigh, “you’ve already done that, ‘tsuki.”

the nickname has him twitching, nobody’s called him that before.

“you want me to fuck you. here,” he grumbles, resuming to lay back on the sofa though he doesn’t take his eyes off the spot between your legs. he wanted a bed but fine, “c’mon then. take what you want.”

your giggle is soft, girly. a knee sinks into the sofa beside his thigh, then your other. your hands are all over his belt buckle, the clang of the metal making you whine with impatience and bakugou chuckles. he helps lift his hips as you pull down his slacks and underwear. you press your breasts against his chest, no air able to slip between your bodies. you’re careful not to sit on him yet because since he’s wearing all black, you definitely don’t want to stain anything.

“i’m so wet,” you whine, voice like silk as you suck bakugou’s left earlobe. you’re desperate to grind on something, some friction, “been thinking about you as soon as you left my side.”

bakugou strokes himself twice, squeezing the base of his cock for just some release, to prepare him for you. you watch the movement between your bodies. you’re mesmerised, so unbelievably aroused you feel like you’re close to passing out. his cock head is a mauve colour, fat and rounded. there’s precome dribbling out, down his shaft and hand. you want to lick it, taste him.

“katsuki,” you moan, as if you’re close to tears, hormones and endorphins bursting through your body.

“you’re going to kill me. c-can’t believe i’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, taking his middle and forefinger to circle around your clit. you’re bucking in his hand, your thighs unstable to hold yourself up.

you hang your head forward, pleasure fluttering through you like a butterfly in your rib cage. “condom. get a condom,” you breathe and bakugou stops. you flick your head up at him, impatience burning through you.

“i-i don’t have one, i didn’t fuckin’ bring one, i thought—,”

you’re about to growl and bakugou can tell, irritation swirling in your eyes at anything stopping you from coming. come leaks from his cock.

you reach over for your clutch, left forgotten in the corner of the sofa. bakugou runs his hands over your ass as you pull out a strip of four, ripping one and stuffing the other three back in your bag.

“if i wasn’t so horny right now, i’d assume you wanna get me pregnant again,” you say and bakugou could draw your lips with his eyes closed from how much he’s staring at them. your white canine pops out, tearing open the square foiled packet to reveal the latex.

bakugou chuckles, he doesn’t think he’s felt like this in his life. his whole body is a beating pulse, “promise i’m not. just didn’t think you’d be beggin’ to get fucked in here.”

you roll your eyes, dragging the condom over his cock. bakugou bites his own words immediately, staring at your smaller hands around him. he doesn’t think he’s ever been so painfully hard in his life.

“if only you could see yourself, ‘tsuki. if i said no right now, you’d be on your knees begging me for a taste,” you settle yourself above him, his cock almost slipping into your hole. “i only asked you once.”

he’s twitching like an addict, breath hitching. you’re both half dressed, sweaty with the gala going on outside. you’ve never had sex so publicly before, where anyone can knock on the door, ask where your golden baby father has gone.

his smile causes a sudden gush through you, gold tooth shining under warm lamp light. he can’t believe he’s got you here, after two years. in his space, his arms, on top of his cock.

“i’ve been beggin’ you for years, sweetness. you just haven’t noticed.”

you drop onto his cock, sinking and sucking him into your walls completely. you sit flush, inescapable, overwhelmed. satisfaction buzzes from the top of your head to the tips of your toes like lightning. you throw your head back in a gasp, clothed breasts in bakugou’s face without meaning to. his cock is thick and large, one of the biggest you’ve ever dealt with.

you’re lucky he’s teased you for so long, no matter how accidental it was because there’s only a tinge of pain, one that burns out to hot raging pleasure.

“oh, you feel so good inside me, ‘tsuki. can feel you in my stomach, baby,” you mewl, lips wet against his neck, nibbling the skin lightly. it’s as if you’ve lost control of your features, face going limp and lewd.

bakugou feels as if he’s about to explode into you already. you made him come earlier in the car as a thank you for doing the same back at your home. but that’s not enough, nothing with you is ever enough.

his whole body is tense, reminding himself to breathe so this isn’t the shortest sex of his life. you’re about to lift your hips for some movement, but bakugou holds you down with gritted teeth.

“don’t move. i’m gonna fuckin’ come, give me a second,” this is why he should of ate you out again, should have done something before going straight in. he should have known that having you like this with him will be his greatest gift, the undoing of the string that keeps bakugou katsuki together. he pulls down the front of your dress in a rush, sucking on one of your nipples.

you’re laughing at him again, despite your nipple pebbling under his ministrations. he’s impatient, needy, your floral sweet perfume suffocating in a way he can only be grateful for. you cradle the back of his head, a moan bursting out when he sucks harshly. “i wanna come too, baby. let me grind on you.”

he runs his teeth over your perked nipple, moving over to kiss your other. “slowly. i’m not lastin’ a second with you. i’ve waited for you for too fuckin’ long to come so goddamn quick.”

with his permission, you roll your hips like a dancer. rocking back and forth, feeling every vein of his shaft rub against your walls. the delight is immense, throwing your head back with sudden gasps, your eyes scrunching shut and widening on impact. is as if you’re moulding to the shape of him, contorting your body to feel as much of him as possible. he’s deepest in this position, prodding the most tender parts of you. the glide is easy, friction smooth from your own slick and you can barely hold yourself together.

“fuck, ‘tsuki baby,” you’re leaning into him, arrogance from affecting him so easily only increasing your pleasure. the pace of your hips speed up, wet pat pat pats of your ass against his balls. you want to touch him, rip his shirt off but you still have to go back out there later. instead your hands sneak up his shirt, hot hands on warmer skin. your nails scratch against his skin without meaning to, feeling his abdominals contract with every breath. bakugou grumbles into you, sucking air between his teeth when you clench around him.

“i can’t fuckin’ take this, oh god,” he grunts as you smush your lips to his, wet tongues and a mountain of moans. you can barely tell where he starts and you end. without much fight, bakugou takes control, licking around your tender mouth before sucking on your tongue.

he finishes you by reaching between your bodies to touch at your clit. using your wetness that’s gushing out and coating along his shaft to rub two fingers in clockwise circles. every part of you is being stimulated, a game to push you to come first. he’s edging your orgasm out of you bit by bit, making you think of nothing but him.

bakugou feels as if he’s going to burst, his failing heart beating out syllables of your name. you’re snug, balmy around him and if this is where he dies tonight in a dingy old library with you on top of him, so fucking be it.

“you’re so perfect, baby,” he kisses into the corner of your mouth, squelches where you’re intimate louder than his voice, “so pretty grindin’ on me like this.”

that’s when you start bouncing on your baby father. ignoring the burn in your thighs as you lift and drop on his cock. bakugou can barely contain himself, your slick warmth hugging him tightly making it unable for him to leave even if he wanted to. every huff is loud and open mouthed, fingertips sinking into the fat of your hips. bakugou tries to guide you, chewing down on his bottom lip with an animalistic groan but he’s weakened by you, veins pulsing at his forehead.

“do i feel good, ‘tsuki?” your voice is sultry, purposeful. your tits recoil with every rise and fall of your body. bakugou can’t take his eyes off you. “i want you to come with me. you’re doing so good, baby.”

nobody has ever said that to him before during sex, nobody would have thought to reassure bakugou during sex. it’s a mimic of him earlier at your apartment but it being directed to him, only creates a newfound kink for him. bakugou katsuki enjoys being spoken to sweetly by you.

bakugou’s chuckle is raw, rubs across his throat with choked arousal, “yeah? i’m doin’ good? fuckin’ hope so.”

you adore the flush on his cheeks, knowing for a fact he’s exactly where you are. chest heaving, tie haphazardly flung across his chest, random buttons of his shirt undone and lifted to reveal his golden skin.

your giggle bubbles out of you, delirious as bakugou flicks his hips into you. “you close? you look like it,” you whisper against his lips and bakugou’s sure that if it wasn’t for the fact you keep randomly tugging at his hair every time his cockhead brushes against a particularly soft part of you, he would have passed out by now.

your makeup around your eyes has smudged, black streaks onto your eyelids and your lips are bare, either on his lips or neck. the shiny film of sweat across your collarbones, your breasts all makes bakugou sigh, weakened by you. he’s completely finished.

“you first,” he grunts, exhaling shakily. his ruby eyes are a second away from rolling out of his skull, “i’ll be fuckin’ damned if i come before you.”

bakugou’s aches, there’s nothing more he wants to do than let go, but his pride is bigger than his wants. especially… no, he’s fucked.

two hands slide to hold your back as bakugou swings you around for you to lay on back on the sofa. he stays inside you the entire time and he loves the way you marvel at his strength, ogling his clothed biceps with hooded eyes.

then you pout, clenching around him just so he jolts forward, inhaling sharply, “fuck baby.”

“come with me, okay. wanna see you fall apart,” you whisper and it’s a green light for bakugou to start thrusting, picking up the pace fast and unbelievably skilled. the new position reaches sweeter points than before, the slap of your skin is all inappropriate and sticky. you feel how heavy bakugou’s dick is, how pent up, as he rams against your favourite spots without fail.

your thighs ache from his grip, pressing down so your knees are by your ears. he ruts into you with a hysteric pace and his hair that was pushed back, falls forward clumped with sweat, “you feel like fuckin’ heaven, baby. so sweet, not gonna be able to leave you.”

you’re so close, dragging his neck to your face so you feel his breath against your lips. you’re keeping him alive, breathing life into him and you can tell when his eyes begin to flutter shut that he’s about to come.

it feels as if he’s knocking against your lungs, your body burning hot, everything inside you tangling tight about to snap. your dopamine is about to hit its peak, body about to spasm from delight.

“i’m… fuck, baby,” it’s a deep exhale, lips pressing against yours in a shaky puff.

it’s a bundle of groans and moans. white flashing behind your eyes as your back arches and legs jerk, tensing in the air. you can’t tell who comes first, bakugou’s mangled, “motherfucker,” as his hips bury into you with sudden jolts, plugging you so tightly that you’re thankful you brought condoms tonight.

he’s babbling, words barely coherent but coated in desperation, “you’re everythin’. oh, f-fuck, need you f-forever,” he stuffs his face into your neck, shaky kisses littering the spot. his thrusts become weaker than the last, rhythm now a broken song as you tremble against him. a harsh, exhausted sigh, “oh baby.”

“k-katsuki, oh my god,” you squeak as your orgasm ripples through you like a storm on a coast, all consuming and intense. you gush white, leaking over the latex and his adonis belt. if you were somewhat responsive you’d be mindful of staining his shirt but you’re somewhere between earth and another realm. the sounds you make are spiritual, make bakugou stare at you enchanted, wondering if you’re even human the same way he is. you shake violently, before falling still, exhausted and numb.

kisses start down your neck as you calm down. bakugou moves slow and heavy, weak and jelly limbed. he’s mindful to not have all his body weight on you, leaning on his side as you return to your body beside him.

“was it that good?” you hear beside you and you fight the grin off your face.

“shut up katsuki,” you smile, slowly opening your eyes to see the beautiful hero beside you. all teeth showing, dark eyelashes tapping against his flushed cheeks. he rests his head on on his palm as he stares down at you. you can’t mistake his glare for anything but adoration, inching towards love. “we’re gonna have to go back out there now, aren’t we?”

bakugou quirks his upper lip, he wants to tease you but he feels the exact same. he touches his forehead with yours, a quick tap like it puts you both on the same wavelength, “nah, i can say bye to them lot if we pass them but i can drop you home if you want?”

there’s those big newborn blinks he’s got, the same blinks kenji does when he wants something that he thinks you’ll say no to. currently, his father has the same look when he wants you to invite him back to your home.

you stroke his face tenderly, cheeks rising as he pecks your lips and he disposes of the condom in a bin across the room. you try not to think about the poor person that finds that. he’s eager to be close again, ruby eyes hazy and sleepy from orgasm. bakugou’s close to devoting his life to you along with kenji but he thinks he’s already scared you enough tonight. instead, he kneels at your feet like he would an altar, waiting on your next word.

“if you want to come back to mine, ask me. you’re a big boy.” you say adjusting your dress to cover your breasts and reaching into your bag for some wipes.

bakugou wants to comment on how prepared you were, how it turns him on that you planned to have sex tonight with him. he sighs lowly, tucking his shirt back in his trousers and sliding his hand onto your bare thigh.

“y’gonna let me go back to yours? we had fun tonight?”

he doesn’t look you in the eyes when he says it. an awkward statement turned into a question. he curses internally because bakugou katsuki isn’t like this, perhaps in his youth where he was too emotional with his own shit to deal with girls. but before a woman like you, his place in your life is up to you. he’s out of control because you hold all that he is in your hands.

the burly blonde man takes the wipe from you and cleans your thighs himself, careful when he gets closer to your middle. bakugou ducks down to kiss your knee and that, among multiple other things tonight, does it for you.

“i think you can come with me.”

bakugou shuffles your dress down with a nod, the smile on his face soft and real. you want to take him home with you and kiss him to sleep.

“tell me what the old man was sayin’ to you. he’s the founder of the charity right? you were so fuckin’ smiley i thought he was gonna take you from me.”

you slap his shoulder in jest, a laugh brewing inside you, “no! i’ll tell you in the car. let’s go.”

PART 6 / BABY DADDY MASTERLIST / SOMETHING ELSE

MASTERLIST

likes don’t do anything on tumblr! but reblogs, comments and asks mean the world! i delete comments asking for the next part. thanks xox