🔥'bout to dine on what I know is mine🔥

asshole!sukuna can’t help but crack a smile. he’d had about ten girls come and slap the fuck outta him today. they were all old flings desperate to get their get-back, but that was hardly the point. you were this new thing entirely, a soft thing that seemed sweet regardless of if he was notorious for being a cunt or not. 

“what’s y’ name, sweetheart?” 

asshole!sukuna decided he wanted to see you again after that. you’d caught his interest, which doesn’t happen often. he asks for your number. your instagram, your snapchat, everything. it was kinda pathetic how eager he was to get to know you, but you handed them all over anyway. your friends warn you after the fact that he’s definitely not good news, but you can’t help but want to see where this goes after only dating squares for most of your life. 

asshole!sukuna takes you on a date the very next day, and you were pleasantly surprised at how chivalrous he was. he pulled out your chair at the small hole-in-the-wall restaurant he took you to, he paid for everything, and even more surprisingly, made you feel comfortable. you talked for hours about everything and anything. 

you learned that asshole!sukuna had a lot of hobbies. he played guitar, drums, did a fair few building sketches in the art room with his friend geto when he had time, and had a real connection to film. all of which were things you found extremely attractive, and he could tell, because the next time you two went out he took you to his dorm and showed you his musical endeavors. 

“you’re like... super talented, it’s really attractive.” you smile gently, sitting at the foot of his bed, watching as he finishes up a love song he’d been learning for you. 

“yeah, y’ think so? gonna come to all my gigs when i’m a famous musician?” 

“will i get a backstage pass?” 

“oh, absolutely.” 

asshole!sukuna had officially swooned you after about five dates. he'd mustered up the courage to ask you to be his at that same restaurant he’d taken you to on that first date, and the rest was history. you and sukuna, the couple everyone of his mates envied due to how perfectly you two fit together. 

“how the hell did a guy like you bag a girl like her. yr' gonna destroy the poor thing.” geto teased while they were smoking up one night. 

asshole!sukuna could only reply with, “god, don’t you just hate jealous, hating ass motherfuckers?” 

asshole!sukuna loved to not so subtly brag about you to literally anyone he talked to. (which wasn’t many, but still.) 

“eugh, you’re buying lunch? my girlfriend made me food today, fucking loser.” he’d laugh at the dining hall when gojo and geto sat next to him with a greasy burger and fries. they just gave each other a look, smiled, and rolled their eyes. 

“hm? nah, can’t tonight. me and my girl are getting hot pot. have fun drinking your problems, tho.” he’d turn toji down, turning his nose up at the idea of bar hopping like he wasn’t the most frequent man along the strip a few months back. 

“a two man? i’m not bringing my girl around your little one and done situation, don’t ask me that shit again.” he’d laugh in jogo’s face, hating the idea of his precious baby being around a sleaze bag like him. 

asshole!sukuna always puts you first. his frat’s planning something big, another fundraising night where they really care about attendance, and he’s meant to be there early to help set up. but out of the blue, you’ll send him a text just to say that you've had a slightly shitty day, and boom, he’s suddenly nowhere to be found. his phone’s off, car’s out of the driveway, and he’s at your door with your favorite food and that pissed look, how dare the world have the nerve to bother you. 

asshole!sukuna likes to keep you very close to him when you’re out and about, with either an arm at your waist or his fingers intertwined with yours, he’s most comfortable when you’re right there where he can see you. that way, if anything were to happen, you’d be there for him to protect.

asshole!sukuna lets you get away with absolutely everything. 

“ryo, can i draw on you? like, draw on your back while we watch a show or something?” 

“sure, baby.” 

“ryooo, can i braid your hair?” 

“of course, love.” 

“hey, ryomen? could you drive me to my friend’s house? she lives on the other side of town, though.. it’s okay if you don’t want—” 

“no, no. let’s go, sweetness.” 

“ryo, you smell.” 

“shower with me then, baby.” 

with anyone else, asshole!sukuna would have either yelled or broken their jaw for even thinking they could ask him such questions. but with you? the princess gets what the princess wants or whatever the saying he made up in his head was.

asshole!sukuna fucking hates when people talk over you. it’s a common occurrence due to your soft-spoken nature, you’ll be in the middle of saying something, and someone’ll cut in with whatever thing they think is funnier or more worth listening to. sukuna never lets it slide. “she was talking, dickhead.” he’d scoff, shutting them up and earning a shy, thankful smile from you, as you continued with what you were saying, far more important than whatever that clown had to yap on about anyways. (in sukuna’s mind, at least.) 

asshole!sukuna spends a shit ton of money on you. you almost always go against the idea, but he just can’t help it... when he sees your eyes light up when you see something you like at the mall, he physically can’t resist. he’ll bookmark the product, then order it online to come to your apartment the next day. 

“ryo... why do i have another package?” you whine over the phone, earning nothing but a chuckle from the other end. 

“could tell you wanted it, so just enjoy it, sweet thing. you deserve all the fruits of my labour.” 

“you don’t work? isn’t it your parents’ mon—” 

“semantics. just enjoy, baby.” and he hangs up the phone, grabbing his keys to drive to your place and see how you like the new gift. he thinks it was a new dress? couldn’t be sure, it was hard keeping up with the millions of notifications from the post office. 

asshole!sukuna remembers everything about his girl and makes sure you’re always getting exactly what you want. if he’s out getting dinner before driving to your place, he’ll stop at five different places if that meant getting your order perfectly correct. local maccas has a broken ice cream machine? he’s driving to the next location to try his luck there. one place doesn’t have the kind of noodles you like? he’s making his way to the closest chinese place to see if they do. he is the embodiment of “if he wanted to, he would,” and it’s all worth it seeing your face light up when he holds up the paper bag with a smile. 

“your favourite.” 

“oh my god? this is the place out of the city? how did you—” 

“don’t worry about it, angel.” 

and that was another thing, ashole!sukuna  didn’t let you worry about anything. your place felt too messy? he was over there turning on mlp equestria girls and helping you clean. you wanted a home cooked meal? he’s at the store buying the ingredients. you needed help with an assignment? he’s pushed back his own work to sit down and help you smash them out. 

asshole!sukuna is so overly territorial when it comes to functions. he doesn’t know, there’s just something about people drunk and horny all around you that ticks him off. he’ll always have you either sat next to or on his lap at frat parties. you stick to him regardless, but he has to make it obvious to all the fuckwits blatantly staring at you that you are indeed, his. 

if they don’t get the hint the first time and are still gawking after his mild pda, asshole!sukuna would up the ante. he’ll take you off to some hallway or, if the guys are being particularly sleazy, he’ll kiss you right there. his lips trailling up and down your neck while he stares them dead in the eye, challenging them to look away. 

“ryo... people are looking!” you whisper nervously. 

“let them, sweetheart. you’re too pretty not to stare at.” he grins against your neck, sucking and biting at your soft skin. 

by that point, they always look off. whether that be due to his death glare or the realisation that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon was beside the point. 

asshole!sukuna gets embarrassingly hard at the smallest little things with you. you’ll just be sitting on the couch together and you’ll start scratching his back or head, boom, hard. when you’re sitting next to him in the library and you’re biting your pen, boom, hard. even when you’re just laying in bed, tired from the day, he’ll lay next to you and just sigh. 

“how the fuck do you just look like that. you make it so hard to keep my shit to myself.” he groans as his arms snake around your waist. 

“jeez, i can feel that thing poking into my back... what did i do now?” you smile sleepily. 

“i wish i knew. seems like one look at you and i pop a boner.” he admits, a little embarrassed. 

“can i help you out?” 

asshole!sukuna loved how willing you were to service him, but preferred it the opposite way round. sukuna would spend hours between your pretty thighs if he could, sloppily kissing and sucking at your cunt with dazed eyes, loving nothing more than the pretty moans and groans he could pull from your throat. 

“fuck yeah, y’ like that, baby? you like my tongue, hm?” he’d tease with his mouth full, pumping two fingers in and out of your soaked pussy as he dragged you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

asshole!sukuna knew how wet his filthy words could get you, and he abused that knowledge each and every time he needed you prepped and ready for him. 

“y’ think you can take me, baby, yeah? think you can take this fat cock?” he’d taunt, slapping the thick head against your cunt as your slick coated the pink, glossy skin. “fuckkkk, pretty pussy’s beggin’ t’ get drilled.” 

“what’s that? you need me? well, isn’t that fuckin’ cute. beg a little more and maybe i’ll give you what you want.” 

“be a good girl n’ say please and it’s all yours, angel.” 

asshole!sukuna was massive, but you always took him so well. “you can do it, baby. i know you can.” he’d coo in your ear, lining up the monster of a thing. 

“one, two, fuckkk.” 

asshole!sukuna saw stars every time he’d push in, letting go of a long, pornographic moan as he began to thrust slowly in and out of your tight entrance. the look on your face as your eyes rolled back in pleasure made coming in less than a minute extremely hard, but the intense need to make you finish first overrode any sort of selfish desire to fill you up to the brim in the first few minutes. 

asshole!sukuna loved missionary the most because he could see your pretty face. he enjoyed a bunch of freaked-out positions, but nothing could beat watching your pupils dilate and your lips quiver the second you finally came, his name on your tongue as you let go of the tension building in your tummy. 

“y’ gonna come, baby? y’ gonna come on this cock?” he’d grunt, slamming his member deeper and deeper the louder your cries got, faster and faster until— “fuck, ryo! m’ cumming!” you’d stutter, your insides spasming on his cock, drawing out his own orgasm with one final pound, filling you up with hot ropes of his seed. 

asshole!sukuna was the king of aftercare. words that were filthy before, now soft and caring. 

“you okay, baby? did i go too hard on ya?” he’d ask through tired pants, standing to grab the wet wipes in the side drawer to wash your messy parts off. 

“you want me to order something? anything you want, love. i’ll get you anything and everything.” 

“c’mon, sweetheart. drink some water.” 

asshole!sukuna never made you feel small after intimacy, in fact, sometimes you enjoyed the aftermath more than the mindblowing sex. 

“m’ okay, ryo. just wanna cuddle.” you’d admit shyly, reaching for him to come back to bed. 

his eyes would soften and he’d plop down next to you, pulling you into his lap. “anything for you, angel.” 

sure, sukuna was an asshole, but he couldn't even dream of mistreating you, his biggest exception.

“love you, baby.” 

“love you too, ryo.” 

a/n: i wrote this semi off my face so excuse any bad word or structural choices 💘

You and Bakugou had been together for almost a year already and it had been… fucking magical.

Yes, he will fucking describe it like that because, damn, you had shown him how good it feels to be loved and cherished, and fuck, he isn't a fucking coward, he will admit that he is head over heels in love with you. You both had been so enraptured inside a bubble of love, cutesy bullshit and all annoyingly gorgeous pink, that Bakugou really didn't see the big fucking storm coming.

His day began as hectic as any other day at his agency. But it was close to the afternoon, while he was revising a new case outside the city with Deku that he received that phone video call. It was from an unknown number. Normally, he would ignore it. But he accepted it this time, don’t ask him why.

The image that appeared on his phone's screen made him mad –real mad– and completely terrified at the same time.

You were kneeling on a dirty floor, tied up, hands and legs behind your back, tape over your mouth. You looked angry, with tears streaming down your face and sweaty. That infuriated Katsuki even more.

"If you want her back, you know what to do Dynamight," a fucking distorted voice said before ending the call.

It didn't take much for him and Deku to find the fucking bastards, hiding in an old abandoned factory not so far from the city. To summarize it, they were stupid brats beginning their careers as villains, now, of course, continuing it in jail. Dynamight had captured others from the same group when they attacked a technology corporation, so they wanted their stupid little friends free. That's why they kidnapped you.

The biggest fucking mistake they could ever have done.

After that, while you were being treated by the nursing team, Dynamight and Deku were watching the camera records around the place and at the entrance of the factory, and they were… impressed. They were watching how you gave them hell in trying to make you cooperate and enter the factory. You were kicking, screaming, scratching, insulting them with a colorful language that not even Katsuki knew you were able to speak. Even though you were Quirkless, damn, you did give them a fight. It was even clearer when you kicked one of them in the balls so hard that both heroes heard the painful kick.

Fucking ouch!

So, back to the present, he is very surprised as he looks at you entering the apartment with your head held high. Not one tear, no breakdown, no fear in your eyes. Just annoyance. You still sigh because it's been a hell of a tiring day.

"Do you… Do you need my help to…" He can't finish the sentence. What he means is if you need help to bathe or shower. You said on the car ride back home that you were going to get one as soon as you crossed the entrance door to the apartment.

It's not like he hasn't seen you naked already, you have had lots of fun already together, but he knows that during these events people tend to prefer privacy. Isolation even. But when he asked you in the car if you needed to be alone, you said you wanted him to stay with you. 

So he is gonna stay the night… and all nights you ask of him.

"I'm fine, Katsuki," you smile, so bright and so cute it's a harsh contrast to how messed up you look with your hair tangled, some cuts over your face, and some parts of your clothes torn.

It hurts his heart seeing you like this. A constant pressure over his chest he can't soothe away, no matter how many times he repeats in his head that you are safe.

He looks down at his hands as he says, "I'm sorry."

"What for?" You chuckle gently as you walk closer to him and grab one of his hands, fingers interlacing with his. "If I remember correctly, you saved me."

He exhales a small sarcastic snort through his nose, "The reason they fuckin’ got you in the first place was because of me."

You shake your head, still smiling and looking at him like he's the most perfect man on earth, which Katsuki knows he isn't.

You're looking into each other's eyes when you say, "You think I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I accepted that first date?"

Bakugou Katsuki is out of words. He doesn't know how to answer back, because the only thing he wants to do is kiss you so strongly it might hurt you. Hug you so strongly that it may combine both bodies into one. So he stays still, holding back his need for you, while you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek before walking towards the bathroom. He takes a deep breath. Fuck. He loves you so fucking much its driving him insane.

He was going to talk to you, to make you see how dangerous it actually was to be with him. He was going to convince you to break up, for your safety. Fuck! If he had been two minutes late today, he doesn't want to think of what could have happened.

But he can’t. Bakugou Katsuki is such a selfish bastard that he can’t tell you to break up with him. He wants you. He needs you. Katsuki fucking loves you so much he can’t breathe without you. So he won’t.

Katsuki shuts his eyes.

This never should have happened. He should’ve seen it coming, yet he didn’t, and that scares him to death.

The thought of losing you makes his chest ache like it’s splitting open. 

So he makes a silent vow, a determined promise: Never again.

He’ll train harder. Watch closer. Be better. Protect you from everything and everyone.

No matter what it costs him, he’ll keep you safe.

Because you’re his entire world. Because he loves you with every fiber of his being, and he’s never giving up on you. Not to fear. Not to fate. Not to anyone.

He is so concentrated stirring the soup in the oven a couple of hours later, he doesn't hear you when you enter the kitchen. He realizes you're there when he sees you jump to sit over the counter through the peripheral vision of his eyes.

"That smells good," you comment, a soft and delicate curve of your mouth in the form of a smile that makes him go weak on the knees for you, as you move back and forth with your little bare feet. You're so freaking cute he wants to bite you.

He smirks when he finally sees how you're dressed. It's one of his t-shirts that are so big on you it functions more as a dress. He wonders if there's something else underneath. Or not. This last idea makes him hungry, and not specifically for food.

That's also when he notices the purple and reddish marks on the inside of your thighs and along your legs. He feels his blood boil like the soup he's done cooking. He should have killed those bastards.

Katsuki takes a deep breath before turning off the oven and walking til he's standing between your open legs. Your eyebrows are up, kind of surprised by the sudden proximity, but it is not unwelcome.

He doesn't say anything as he starts to drop down to the floor until he's kneeling, eyes still locked on yours. His mouth then starts a slow and gentle path from your shin, pecking your skin as he ascends to the inner side of your knee, coincidentally kissing around each mark this dreadful day has left on you. Always softly, doing his best in never putting too much pressure to make it hurt again, but enough for you to understand that he is sorry you got each and every one of them.

Your breathing quickens, eyes never leaving his face. A face that shows how concentrated he is now in his task, with his eyes closed as his mouth climbs towards your inner thighs. A small noise, almost like a breathed moan, leaves your mouth when his tongue touches your skin.

His breath brushes against your skin, warm and reverent, and the sound of it nearly undoes you. His hands, calloused but careful, anchor themselves at your hips as his lips reach the tender flesh of your inner thigh. There’s a tremble in his touch, but not from hesitation. You recognize it immediately. It’s restraint. Every part of him is tensed, like he is being extremely conscious of every move of his. You know then, he doesn’t want to scare you away, and that thought warms your heart.

“Katsuki…” Your voice is a breath, half plea, half warning, but he just shakes his head against you.

“I know, Firefly,” he murmurs, the rumble of his voice caresses your skin, softened by guilt and affection. “I know you’re hurt. I’m not gonna push. But let me take care of you, please…”

Bakugou Katsuki never begs. But he does. For you, only for you.

He leans in again kissing the spot just above the last bruise, and then another, slow and deliberate, as if he’s memorizing every mark this day has etched into your body. Every kiss is an apology, every breath he draws is laced with the fury he holds back. Not at you, never at you. But at the world that dared touch you like this.

You reach for him, threading your fingers through his messy hair, grounding both of you. He exhales, a low sound that vibrates against your thigh, as his eyes close for a moment. Enjoying your touch. Like your touch is all he needs to survive.

When he finally looks up, red eyes meeting yours, the heat there is unmistakable. But so is the tenderness, the love that rarely expresses out loud, yet it’s unquestionable that he feels for you.

“You tell me when to stop,” he says, voice thick. “I’ll go slow. I’ll stop. I’ll just hold you. Whatever you need me to. But I need to show you… Need you to feel it. That you’re still here, that I’ve got you.”

And with that, he travels back up your body, peppering kisses along the way until he’s hovering over you, foreheads touching, breath mingling. His hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing gently beneath your eye, and for a long moment, all he does is look at you. Eyes so focused on you, you can feel the burn, but his body still.

“Let me make you feel safe again, Firefly…”