#bnhacity

he doesn’t mean it. is what izuku tells you when he gets you both ready for bed at night, hybrids need special care and izuku likes to bathe you together— bakugou stares at your body hungrily like you’re a piece of meat. kacchan can play nice, he’s just a little rough sometimes. another excuse.

a little rough doesn’t even begin to cover it.

not when katsuki has you pinned to the bed by a strong arms, cruel smirk spread widely across his cherry lined lips while your precious, meaty thighs shake either side of his head. “look at’cha bunny, shakin’ like a fuckin’ leaf ‘n i ain’t even touched’ya yet,” bakugou growls with a yank of your fluffy rabbit tail. your sex spasms, arousal staining the surrounding areas and dripping heavily onto the cotton sheets of deku’s bed. “poor lil bunbun trapped in heat, ‘n i’m the only one left’ta deal with ya....”

lust is heavy in his tone, blood red eyes dilating while he watches your hips jump up in desperation for some kind of friction and touch. “kat...katsuki, please...it hurts,” and it does, more than any of the mean words he’d thrown at you before. there’s heat burning in your lower tummy, spreading through the blood in your veins as your hole clenches around nothing and leaks pathetically under bakugou’s watchful gaze.

the blonde makes a feral noise in the back of his throat, pointed puppy ears twitching at your needy sounds— the broken moans that bubble from chapped lips. “yeah bunny?” he says breathless, voice lowering deep and husky. “it hurts not ta ‘ave a cock in ya huh? reaching deep in that tight, dirty fuckin’, scratchin’ that itch that you’re fingers can’t reach...” katsuki mutters filthy words into the plains of your skin, tongue dragging along your thighs as he approaches your sex— marking and biting a pathway towards it. his sharp canines sink harshly into the flesh that he moulds between large hands.

your chest rises and falls with your rapid, beating bunny heart— fear consuming you as your innermost instincts have been switched on. katsuki is a dog and you’re merely his prey for the evening, a darling little toy for him to take advantage of in your time of need. “katsu—“ you beg him, twisting and writing against the bed once more.

“what?” he snaps, fangs and gums bared in an impatient growl. he’d waited too long to have you spread out beneath him like this, smelt the slick from your heat dripping down your thighs— tasted the want in the air as you tried to fuck that itch away from yourself with stupid toys and your useless hands. “can’t eat yer stupid lil hole out if y’keep makin’ me waste my breath talkin’ to ya, bunny. don’cha want me to make it go away? take away the pain with my fat cock?”

“katsuki please, make it go away, make it stop hurting,”

katsuki’s head dips lower and lower until his nose is pressed right up against your slit, breathing in your sweet scent until his eyes roll back in his skull and his brain becomes cloudy with ideas of how you might fuckin’ taste, how tight you must really fuckin’ be. god, he’d thought about taking your puckered hole for far too long, taking you on his dick until your bunny ears droop and you’re reduced to a puddle of tears. but now that he’s got you, nothing but sex on your mind while you ooze sweet honey from his proximity to your core, all bakugou can think about is lapping you up like the fuckin’ dog he is and slobbering all over the sweetness between your meaty thighs.

“like it when you beg like a little bunny bitch in heat fer my fuckin’ dick babe, but s’too fuckin’ bad. wanna eat ya instead.” bakugou snarls, tail thumping on the bed as he finally latches onto your sex with teeth and tongue and the taste of you on his fucking brain. when he glances up at you between your shaky legs and give another tug to the fluff of your tail, your cute nose twitches and your watery eyes cross— the pain in your belly ignites into a bright flame of pleasure as you finally get what you need for your heat to subside.

katsuki’s tongue runs laps across every inch of your sex, sucking on you, drinking up the evidence of your arousal before it has time to further dirty your thighs— your fingers push through his mass of blonde locks and tug at his puppy dog ears until he whimpers into your hole that he plunges his pink muscle in and out of. “look at’cha bunny, makin’ a mess in that damn deku’s bed. what’s he gonna say when he finds you cummin’ on this tongue of mine, his sweet little bun ain’t so innocent are they?” he teases, fingers coming up to prod and pull and pinch at your slick and intimate parts he also greedily feasts on.

“he—he wouldn’t, katsuki please don’t— oh fuck— i don’t want izu to see me like this,” you blubber with crossed eyes and skittering breath. the dog between your legs slots bites gently at your core, teeth grazing your intimate parts causing you to jump up and tug his hair closer to your needy, trembling body.

“bullshit, needy bitch.”

lewd sounds of your own sloppiness make your ears droop and cover your humiliated face, shame burning at the tips of your ears even worse than the hotness flashing through your body. you’re embarrassed, by your own dirtiness, by your desperation to be fucked by your owners awful companion. would izuku be disappointed in you? see you different from your usually shy and innocent self? you feel so much shame and yet you can’t feel yourself to pull away from the german shepard hybrid between your legs, sucking on you like you’re his last meal.

but you can’t bring yourself to feel shame, the thought of your precious owner walking in on you stretched over katsuki’s tongue and thick fingers— marked up and tainted, makes you gush and squirm. what would you do if his bright green eyes saw the sin his two darling hybrids were committing on his own bed? you’re naughty, bakugou’s made you naughty and that’s exactly what he wanted. to ruin you during your heat.

“you wanna cum, slutty bunny?” his tail thumps harder against the mattress, his hips grinding circles into the bed like his stuck in a rut, his own cock hard and heavy in his shorts while he makes you see stars and feel as if you’re on cloud nine. you nod and a dark chuckle reverberates through your body. “‘s too bad...” katsuki pulls away from you before you can tumble over the edge, sheen of your arousal painted across his chin— shining under dim light.

“k-katsuki?”

like a dirty dog, he wipes his mouth on his arm and smiles, mischief glinting in his eye. your heart rate spikes, nose and precious bunny earth twitching with nervousness and excitement.

“too bad, y’cum while ‘m breeding you on this cock, sort this heat out right.”

Yet he pushes against the metal door, welcomed by a shrill ring from the bell hug above him as he enters the store, slipping his sunglasses off to hang them on the v-neck of his shirt. With an aggravated sigh, Bakugou walks into the shop, vermillion eyes scanning the interior, hoping to catch sight of what brings him here to begin with.

The thrift shop isn’t the best in the neighborhood, or anywhere, really. Books that have been written in, with pages that are bent in, driving any sane person mad, stuffed animals that have lost half their stuffing, the fiber and cotton spilling out of their limbs and torsos, puzzles with one or two missing pieces, and mugs with chipped handles are all of what he could see, and the man has half a mind to just turn around and leave. Yet there’s this tiny nagging voice in the back of his mind

“Hey,” you called out to him in that sickening breathless voice, trying to catch up to him before he leaves as you hang up the phone. “Um, there’s this really vintage One Ok Rock t-shirt in that dingy thrift shop down the block you patrol, could you, maybe, please, get it for me on your way back?”

And what else would your hopelessly smitten, yet emotionally constipated, roommate say? “Fuck, no”

So why is he standing with his lonesome self, hands digging deep in his pocket as he shoulders his way away from people, trying to find the fucking stupid shirt you wanted.

“Fuckin’ finally.” the blond mumbles, recognizing the logo that you have showed him countless times when you shoved the phone in his face, gushing about a new song, or someone’s haircut and he just couldn’t really fucking focus with your tits spilling out of those low shirts, like can’t you just get yourself some proper-fitting shirts that, cover your boobs, it's like-

Okay, think of Deku, think of Sero and Kaminar doing farting contests, Kirishima trimming his ass hair… huh, that last one really works.

Bakugou shakes his head, disappointed in getting distracted by your boobs when they aren’t even there! He growls deep from his chest, upset with himself that because of them -it, you, because of you, and your poor choice of wardrobe around the apartment, he wasn’t even able to express his mutual fascination with the band and their work, rubbing the heel of his palm against his eye socket before reaching for the shirt hanging with many band t-shirts on the rack.

He could only chuckle to himself when he saw its size, knowing it would perfectly fit you, yet he stills, kicking himself internally for knowing what your size is, to begin with. Shaking his head to rid himself of any imagery of you in his favorite band’s T-shirt before he tugs at it, recoiling when it tugs him back.

“The fuck?” the blond breathes out, the shirt resisting against him, and he ponders for a second if he got his head injured during patrol for his mind to play tricks on him. But then he hears cursing from the other side of the full rack that obscured his vision, and he knows he isn’t going down without a fight.

Throwing a ‘cunt’ and ‘fucker’ with every forceful tug, a tear stops Bakugou in his tracks and rings in his ears, every snapping thread is deafening and suddenly, all he sees is red.

“The fuck is up yer ass?” his voice is so loud, so thunderous, that even he couldn’t concentrate on what he’s saying, spewing curse after another. Anger curls hot and unstoppable in his gut, like a blazing inferno that wants to burn him from the inside out, and the image of you pouting up at him when he comes back empty-handed is just making everything worse.

People emotionally allocate the people they care about to specific positions in their inner landscapes, but have they ever been questioned if that is a job they can fulfill? People often cause their own disappointment by placing those who are unworthy, but Katsuki doesn't want to be unfit; he wants to take on a commitment and fulfill it, punishing himself for any shortcomings through sabotage, self-denial, or even masochism, anything except abandoning you.

Yes, even for a fucking t-shirt. And so, with a forceful arm, Bakugou pushes the hangers filled with clothes to the side, wanting nothing but to tear this person a new one for ruining what he came here for. And who it is other than…

“Mindfuck?”

“Mindjack.” the other man scoffs, hand tousling his lavender hair while the other fists the -now ruined- t-shirt. “We’re off duty anyway Bakugou, so you can call me Shinsou.” He points out, eyeing his civilian attire. “Yeah, I’m stickin’ with mindfuck.”

Both men stand up straight, garnet and amethyst clashing as they stare each other down, oblivious to the curious stares they’re receiving that are slowly yet surely turning into those of recognition. One clenching the ripped shirt in his hand while the other is gripping whatever sanity he has left, anything but to obliterate the sleep-deprived fuck from existence.

“One Ok Rock fan?” Shinsou scratches the back of his neck, bored expression displayed yet worry lacing in his voice over the fact that it has been exactly three minutes and eighteen seconds and Bakugou still hasn't blinked. Could it be some sort of new record? He could only wonder as he tries to lead the nonexisting conversation.

The blond only scoffs as a reply, taking a threatening step forward, scowling deep when a step back isn’t reciprocated. “Listen here eyebags,” he takes a deep breath, a hushed ‘Dynamight’ reaching his ears and stiffening his back, fuck if he got his photo taken in the only place he told you he won’t be in. “Y’know what…” He growls deep from his chest, and Shinsou lazily smiles at him, knowing he’s held by a leash, unable to make a scene like he used to in his younger days.

So Bakugou does the only rational thing, he turns around and angrily makes his way out of the store, the scent of burnt caramel wafting after him confirming his identity.

Living with Bakugou Katsuki has always been… eventful, for the lack of a better term. You’re notified of his presence by the stomping of his feet, the ground below him begging for mercy as he nearly makes a hole in them with every loud thump.

“Welcome back.” you sing, laughing lightly when the sound of him clicking his tongue reaches you even with the door separating you two. The blond knocks, giving you a millisecond before he swings the door open.

“You know,” you start as you tighten your rope around you, assuring your decency. “I think you’re using this ‘no knocking habit’,” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly, lip tilting up in a grin, “as a way to be able to peep at my tits when you open my door.” You tease, relishing in the way his ears heat up, flashing red before he slams your door shut and you hear the floor creaking -well, screaming- as he makes his way to the kitchen.

You place your brushes on the vanity, getting up to follow him as he gulps down the bottle of water like a parched man.

“How was work?” You hum, leaning against the wall as you eye his flexing back, noticing the shirt tossed on the arm of the couch before focusing back on his glistening figure, blinking twice before your eyes -begrudgingly- trail back up to meet his when he faces you.

It has been this way since you moved in together, and you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. While the possibility of both of you being present in the apartment at the same time is slim, with him being a pro-hero and you being a nurse in the local hospital, you still enjoy the little time you do spend together when your days off line up.

It had almost been a year since you two met, brought to your ward on a stretcher, all bloody, broken, and bruised, yet still denying help. You remember being the only one out of your co-workers who had the balls - as Bakugou oh so politely put it - to talk to him, refusing to allow his requests for an early discharge.

He really had come at the right time, with you dumping your ex-partner and having to couch-surf at a few friends’ houses while you try and look for a decently priced apartment close to your workplace. You had been venting to him as you were checking up on his charts, clicking your pen aggressively in what he now knows as stress. Brows slightly twitching in annoyance, Bakugou tried to blink the haziness away from his sight, his tongue heavy as he barely uttered the words ‘move in with me’.

After the drug's effect wore off many hours later, you teased him about his delusional state, taunting him as you placed his lunch for the day on his bed, something about calling you pretty, something about your hair looking its best in a certain style, it was all jumbled together really but you still wanted to see the little tint of color at the top of his ears. But what you didn’t expect is him remembering his invite for you to move in with him. Which he insisted on every day until his discharge.

Bakugou to this day doesn’t know why he invited you, to begin with, not wanting to go back on his words -although given they were said while under the influence of the drugs- about providing you a place to stay, waving you off whenever you tell him that you’re only staying until you find a new place, and growling at you when you offer to pay rent.

“I ain’t takin’ charity, princess. So cut the crap,” he told you that one time you thought you were slick enough to hide the rent money in one of his jackets’ pockets. “I’ve been livin’ in here for months alone, I can afford it, alright? So don’t worry your little head about that.” You still don't mention how warm that made you feel, how you both looked at each other wide-eyed and stunned before both of you sprinted to your rooms with your tails between your legs.

And yet, for as long as you’ve known him, it has always been the same, you ask him about his escapades and he replies with, well, a grunt, a ‘good’ on his better days. But today? He just glares you down, a single drop of water dripping from his pouty lip and trailing on his chin, and the little demon whore in you urges you to step forward and wipe it off, with your tongue.

But you smack her on the back of her head and fix your posture, arching a brow when it has been a few seconds without either reply tossed your way. “You okay?”

“Why you got shit on yer face?” alright, maybe he should be the one smacked on the head.

“It's makeup you dipshit.” You huff, twirling around and making your way back to your room, “I didn’t ask what it was, I asked why you have it on, woman.” He trails behind you, stopping himself at your door frame as you plop back on your chair to continue with your makeup.

“Not that it’s any of your concern,” you turn to the side to watch him shuffle on his feet. “But I have a date, in…” you check your phone. “Oh boy, half an hour.” you panic slightly, hurriedly stumbling to the laundry room next door to steam your outfit. Hearing his stomps turn muted as he follows you like a lost puppy.

“You’re almost done,” he points out, not missing the way your hand trembles as you work the steamer across your clothes. “Thank you, detective, I wouldn’t have figured it out.” You mock, throwing a wink across your shoulder that melts the boulder surrounding his heart, feeling it erratically beat against his chest.

Yet all he does, all he allows himself to do, is let out a puff of hair, place his water bottle on the table, and tug at the steamer from your hand, cheeks warming when the contrast of your hands meet, where yours spoke of the kind of precision that only the love and focus of years may bring, while his spoke of destruction and chaos. He clears his throat, straightening out a wrinkle you couldn’t seem to unkink.

“Yer always late when we go out,” he looks up to see you fumbling your thumbs together, not finding something to occupy yourself with, and takes your silence as a sign to lay his speculation. “You’re nervous,” he hums, fingers tracing the fabric, calloused thumb catching a loose string and he leans down to cut it off.

“Well, yeah, uh, haven’t been on a date in, what, seven, maybe eight months?” You laugh to yourself. “God knows I need a way to destress,” Your face warms as you bow your head in humiliation, and for the life of him, Bakugou does not like the sound of that. “He’s a hero, though, so you don’t have to, um, worry.” You ramble, your eyes looking at nothing but the way his shoulder tighten with every pass of the device in his hand, and when is he gonna put a shirt on goddammit-

“Who said I was worried?” he ridicules, shaking his head as he starts working on the back of your garment, “I’m just saying, just because he’s a hero doesn’t mean he ain't a creep.” he all but barks at you, and you couldn’t help but be defensive when he uses that tone with you. “‘Takes one to know one, Dynamight.” boy, does he want to bend you over and have you screaming that name.

“Anyway,” you strain, not missing the way he counts to ten under his breath, and you could only assume it's to calm his anger, not the boner about to pitch a tent in his pants. “You going out?” you lean your head forward to meet his gaze. “I know you spend some weekends with your…” he side-eyes you as you ponder. “Friends?”

He only grunts in reply, handing you your clothes before following you to your room, back facing the ajar door as you change on the other side. “Cancelled, somethin about dunce face’s sister, or mom, fuckin whoever.” you let out an ‘ah’, checking yourself out in the mirror before you open the door, instantly turning your back to him. “Clasp this for me?”

And he does, ultimately failing in stopping himself from sniffing your hair, eyes fluttering closed as he catches a whiff of patchouli, immersed in vanilla, from what he knows as your ‘first date perfume’. He always teases you about it, but now just frowns that you never used it with him, deeming the countless ‘first’ dates you went on more deserving of using that perfume for.

He almost loses balance when you twirl for him, catching more of your godly scent, and he bites his tongue when the words ‘you look beautiful’ almost slip past his lips, allowing his hazy mind to utter what he can only assume is the next best thing.

“Yer really putting out, huh?” fuck…

“Am not!” you puff your cheeks in displeasure, pushing at his very, very built chest and making your way to pick your shoes. Rolling your eyes when you hear him still follow you, a lazy smirk dazzling his lips as he struts his way to you. He opens his mouth to toss another jab at you but swallows it when the doorbell rings.

“Oh my god,” you heave, throwing the window open to look down at the guest, squealing when you recognize him from his hair, even with the 70 feet height difference. “It's him, it's him, relax y/n, it's totally norma- what’re you doing? Buzz him in!” you flail your arm around, pointing to the direction of the telecom and jogging to your room to stuff your necessities in your purse.

With a newly found sense of protectiveness -who is he kidding? He's jealous for dick’s sake- Bakugou puffs his -still very much shirtless- chest and swings the door open when your date knocks, only to come face to face with...

“Mindfuck?”

“Jesus, what are you? Fucking Houdini?” the man sputters, brushing off some imaginary lint from his shoulders before eyeing the blond facing him, a damn barrier if he ever sees one, broad shoulders allowing no peeking privileges to the purple-haired hero, so he settles for shuffling on his feet, clearing his throat once or twice.

“Told you it’s Shinsou-”

“You’re her fucking date?” Bakugou is livid, you’re going out with him? “Well, yeah, It’s pretty obvious isn’t it.” He offers a tantalizing curve of lip, that accentuates when he sees the blond seething in his spot.

“She ain't goin.” He crosses his arms, using his height as an advantage to look down on the other man, who isn’t the least bit shaken up from the threatening posture of your roommate. “Yeah?” He taunts him, shifting the bag he was holding from one hand to the other, picking up his phone, nonchalantly looking at his notifications before pretending he was shocked about him still being present. “And who are you to deny her that?”

Oblivious to their exchange of death glares, you skip your way to the two men staring each other down, fixing your hair one more time before peeking at your date from the side of Bakugou’s shoulder.

“Hitoshi! Hi!” you say breathlessly, trying your best to trick him into thinking you weren’t hyperventilating about how the date is gonna go, especially after Bakugou’s… tasteful comment.

“Hey,” he greets back, voice hoarse and leaning to the side to catch your eyes, both completely disregarding the fuming blond between you two. “Uh, got you a little something,” he instinctively grabs at the back of his neck, extending his arm out to you with the gift bag. “Oh you really didn’t have to,” you squeak timidly, yet ecstatic as you open the bag to pull out what drops Bakugou’s heart to pummel the floor.

“Ah!” you squeal, jumping in place as you spread the t-shirt, not believing the sight in front of you. “You got me the One Ok Rock shirt.'’ You leap and wrap your arm around his neck, quickly jerking back when you realize your actions. Face warming as the tint in Hitoshi’s cheeks darken, and he chuckles, scratching his cheek sheepishly. “Uh, you told me that one time, that it was your favorite so uh I got you one,” he mumbles, laughing when he thinks you didn't hear a single word he said when you didn’t reply, your eyes are sparkling at the material in your hands.

“Huh, coulda sworn they didn’t have a rip in there.” You purse your lips, and miss the venomous grin stretched across Bakugou's face at Hitoshi’s crestfallen expression.

“It’s, um, a special edition… grunge style.” He stammers, and Bakugou, almost, almost ruins his gesture, but he couldn't, not with how happy you were and frankly, he’d rather break off every bone in his body than burst the bubble you’re in. and oblivious to the buckets Hitoshi is sweating, you grin, thanking him again before running off to your room to toss it on your bed.

“Whattaya know,” Shinsou muses when he sees you retreating to your room. “The stone-hearted Dynamight doesn't wanna hurt little y/n’s feelings, how sweet.”

“Don’t push it asshole” Katsuki growls back at him, yet he's not fazed when he tassels his hair again, grinning lazily back at him, “guess I'm… winning whatever this is, huh?” Shinsou snickers, a tiny bit louder when the blond flares his nose back at him.

“Listen to me fuckface, because I ain't saying it twice. I. don't. Lose”

Both mean lean back from their stance when you approach them again, patting Bakugou’s bareback and waving him goodbye as you leave, arm wrapped around Shinsou’s.

Bakugou stops himself from slamming the door, breathing out harshly when he hears it click close, pressing the heels of his palms against his temples as the relentless pounding of his headache increases with every second.

He fetches his buzzing phone from the kitchen counter that he dropped when he went to get himself a drink, and looks at the text he received.

Kirishima: Hey, izakaya?

Katsuki: Go on without me, need rest.

You shush at your door lock when it clicks loud enough for your neighbors to hear, scared of waking bakugou up because of his light sleep. Taking your shoe off the minute you get in, padding your socks clad feet as you make it to the living room, stopping in place when you see bakugou sprawled on the sofa.

You take a minute to admire him, crossing your arms atop the cushions and resting your chin on top. Smiling to yourself when you see how calm and vulnerable he looks when he's resting, your lips quirk up when you notice how his lashes tickle the apples of his cheeks, right before eyeing how smooth his skin is, always admiring and complementing it whenever you had the chance, just because you felt like it - well, the fierce blush and ‘shut the fuck up’ are always a plus.

You blink back to reality, standing up straight and rounding the sofa, settling on the edge as you lightly shake him awake. “Hey, katsu,” you mumble, a yawn cutting you off when you try to call out his name again. “Gotta wake up, don't want you hurting your back and bitching about it tomorrow.” you giggle, leaning back when you realize how close your face is to his, vermillion eyes snapping open when you poke at his side to tickle him.

“Oi, the fuck you doin?” he rasps, and you swoon at his sleep induced voice, craving the way he sounds when he husks a good morning to you when you both have an early shift. Grunting a thanks when you hand him a mug of hot coffee the second he sits his ass on the chair.

“C’mon, you gotta sleep on the bed, your neck is all wonky,” you whine, tugging at his arm in an effort to pull him up, knowing no amount of strength of yours will budge the man. He sits up, making an effort to actually listen to you and move into the bed but something catches his eye. He stares at you, for a second, or a minute really, swallowing a few times before he parts his lips to speak, hooking his finger under your chin and lifting your head up, thumb sweeping around your lips.

“Lipstick’s all fucked up,” he whispers, and you almost miss the wince he lets out when the product is smudged on the pad of his finger. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, sight flickering from his left to his right eye when his grasp doesn't allow you to move your head away from him. “Uh, must’ve got messed up with, uh eating, you know.” you don’t know why you’re lying, maybe it's because of his broken expression, maybe it's because his eyes are watery, -granted its watery from yawning but still- maybe it's the heavy feeling of you always wanting him to think the best of you, which is why you took such an offensive about the whole putting out thing.

“You check yer lipstick every ten minutes y/n there’s no way you missed that.” it's both a deep growl and a broken whimper, and you lose your voice when you try to explain yourself, mouth gaping as words escape you.

Even if you find your voice to talk to him, he doesn’t let you, pushing at you -as lightly as he possibly could- away from him, away enough that he can’t be engulfed by your scent, the haunting vanilla that is masked by his stench. Moving swiftly away from you, you sat frozen, dreaded with no explanation behind it, only able to look back at him when he slams the door of his room shut

It's been a week since your date with Hitoshi, and from the minute he dropped you off at your apartment, you have been texting nonstop, finding it the best option to communicate, given your busy schedules. And as you try your best to hold your girlish giggles whenever he sends you something flirty, you can’t help when it escapes you once or twice, but that by itself really pushes Katsuki’s buttons.

Since the ‘fight’ you two had, it had been a bit awkward at first between you two, but you both had a morning shift two days ago and he made you breakfast, so you think this is as good as a truce is gonna get.

But now? Now, you’re just pissing him off, sprawled on your tummy on the couch, legs bent at the knee as you kick them absentmindedly, whatever pathetic attempts of holding your laughs failing as you cover your mouth, and he doesn't even need to look at your phone to know who you’re giggling at. So what does he do? Not talk about his feelings, that's for fucking sure, no he picks up the remote and proceeds to raise the volume of the tv, not even aware that the show he was watching was over thirteen minutes ago and he’s just staring mindlessly at a rerun of some cheesy rom-com.

He loves spending his weekends with you, no matter how many times he tells you how boring and pointless it is every single time, you’d still push at him, sitting him down to watch some of your favorite movies, dragging him with the intention of cooking together -which usually ends up with him kicking you out of the kitchen after fucking something up in the recipe- or even cleaning up the apartment together, a squeeze in his chest when you take the lead, dividing cleaning duty before marching up to do your part.

But now? You’re giggling on the phone with him. Making no effort to encourage Bakugou to spend time with you, not initiating any of the activities he secretly enjoys doing alongside you. And was he gonna take the initiative? Hell no.

So there you two are, silent -with the occasional giggles you let out that burn his entire body- and Katsuki’s heart all but leaps when you shuffle on the sofa, expecting you to tell him something, but god no. you turn to lay on your back, lifting up your phone to take selfies of yourself to send to the fuckass, and what were you wearing? Oh, yeah. That fucking shirt.

The blond doesn’t miss the way you shift your eyesight to him, almost to see if he's watching you and he quickly snaps his eyes back to the tv, holding his breath and waiting for you to ask him what's wrong. But you don't, you look back at your phone, lifting it higher and tilting it. Bunching the cotton material up to discreetly show some more of your skin.

Katsuki doesn't see this detail; he can't since he's too busy wallowing in his own rage. The way he lets his grasp on the remote turn to steel, hearing it crack under it, is quiet and deafening all at once. He claws so deeply into the armrest that his hand shakes violently.

It's all confusing, whatever hell he’s living in, yet he never racked his brain for a firm explanation once, because he doesn’t want to reach a hard-to-swallow conclusion. Because even thinking about it is allowing a part of him to crumble and fall.

He doesn’t wanna deal with it yet; this petty fight he has with himself every time about you, maybe even never wanting to deal with it. It's so much easier to ignore and swallow those feelings than to let them resurface and drown him whole. He doesn’t even know when he started feeling this way towards you, it happened so suddenly, one minute you were the nurse that took care of him and he wanted to do the same.

But unexpectedly, your voice started sounding more appealing, your laughs igniting a fire in his soul, and the bitter taste of coffee oh so sugar-sweet when your wishes of a good morning were whispered along with it.

The camera shutter scares you both, yet your reaction is more exaggerated when you squeal, dropping your phone on your face while the blond calms himself down, only turning his head to look at you.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah, whoops.”

A heavy silence falls on you, aside from the now overbearing loud sound of some lame perfume commercial. Both of you are shifting uncomfortably, the thought of you fucking up something as simple as taking a selfie utterly embarrassing.

After a few awkward moments, you lift your phone up, adamant to take at least one decent photo to send to your… date? No need to label things and confuse yourself, y/n. And with your undivided attention on picking the best angle and filter that best compliments you, you miss the way Bakugou shuffles on the couch, once, twice, thrice.

If you had been paying more attention to the flaming ball of rage, you would have noticed how his legs shake as he calmly -well, as calmly as he could given the circumstances he’s in- places the remote on the coffee table in front of him.

Before he springs off of the sofa like his ass is on fire, marching up to you and snatching your phone away.

“H-hey! What do you think you’re doing?” you screech, leaping to your feet and getting on the couch, taking advantage of the added height to try and grasp the phone he’s raising up above his head and failing miserably.

“Fucking, Katsuki gimme my phone!” God, your pleading sounds so fucking desperate, a string of repeated 'please' following after that claws at his heart, and it isn't because of how pathetic you sound. No, it's because you're sinking so low for him of all people. Nah, fuck that.

“Fuck off for a minute, y/n.” You scoff so loud at his audacity that his shoulder catches some of the debris. With a final attempt at retrieving your phone, you climb on his bulging back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as you extend your arms to snatch what belongs to you, whining loud when the realization of having shorter arms than his strikes you.

And when he finally tosses it back to you, you’re both well aware of how you two are positioned. His very, very muscular naked back is pressing against your chest -braless chest, mind you- and if he focuses hard enough, he could almost feel your nipples through the shirt, and if that wasn’t already sending all his pumping blood straight to his cock, the fact that you have your legs wrapped around him, with you basically humping his back, definitely will.

Katsuki fights with himself way for way too long before shrugging you off, hearing your feet plant themselves on the ground before an agitated ‘ugh’ echoes in the room when you take a look at what he has done.

Y/N: Fuck off mindfuck she ain’t interested.

And your heart sinks to the bottomless pits of the earth.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you scream, eyes not even giving him any attention as your hands shake, trying to find any excuse to not sound that either you or your roommate are crazy. Throwing a dirty look amongst your panic when you hear him chuckle.

“What? Didn’t say shit.” He shrugs, a sick mischievous grin curling his lips, despite the bang in his chest that you’re that worried over the fuckass’s reaction to whatever he said. But he still struts over to you, leaning over your hunched form on the seat.

You’re frantically typing, something about how this is some sort of sick joke of Katsuki’s -or as you wrote very elegantly, ‘Bakushit’- and just apologizing profusely. And while Katsuki thinks that his gesture is enough for Shinsou to back off, the little gasp and breath of relief you let out prove him wrong.

Hitoshi: What was that Bakugou? I’m too busy mind fucking your cute ass roomie over here.

“Fuckin’ cunt,” he charges for your phone again, as if he has any right to, and you lock it quickly, stretching your arm back to keep it out of reach, only for him to grip your wrists together in one hand whilst the other grabbed at the phone.

“Unlock the shit,” he growls, holding the phone to your face, trying to activate the Face ID while you flail, shaking your head violently, not risking the chance of the phone to recognize your features. “What, you just gonna let’m talk about me like that?” Whatever efforts Katsuki is putting into opening your phone are suddenly thrown out the window, dropping it and using his unoccupied hand to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to look up at him. “You Shtarted it!” you growl right back at him, kicking at your legs that have started losing circulation from his weight on them.

And for a second, both of you stop resisting, your eyes widened in shock while his are looking intensely at you, blown-out pupils that swallow out the vermillion in his eyes, his lids fluttering when his sight is shifted to your pouty lips.

“Get off.” it's all a mere whisper, and Katsuki almost moans loudly at the whimper laced in it, the words sounding more of a plea rather than the demand you thought you were voicing out. “Why should I, ha?” He breathes slowly, sending a shiver down your spine when his warm breath reaches you, tickling the apple of your cheek with every word he enunciates. “You don’t want me to, don't you.” it’s nowhere near being a question, it's more of a certainty, like laying out a well-known fact, and something in you -maybe it's that little demon whore you grew to despise and love all at once- agree with him, all too eagerly.

“He, he doesn’t get to have you. No one-” you’re strangely enamored by the amount of sweat he’s producing, is it really that warm? “No one gets to have you, gets to have what's mine, alright?”

“Doesn’t fuckin matter who it is, they ain't me.” He’s making no effort to get off, and he could tell you stopped resisting long ago, noticing the way your body is slumped under his, your doe eyes looking nowhere other than directly back at his.

“No one wakes up at the crack ass of dawn with ya, no one knows how you like yer breakfast in the mornin', how that fucking acidic bitter coffee tastes like fuckin' candy when ya make it-” your brows twitch once, confused about the change of conversation. “How you always smell fuckin' amazing, how you like your hair styled a certain way based on the fuckin' day of the week like some weirdo, how you can’t for the life of ya steam your goddamn clothes and end up with one side totally fucked. How-” Why is his vision hazy? Why is he pouring his heart out now of all times? Now, when he knows you’re gonna be swept off of your feet by someone else. Like a goddamn toddler that cries about a fucking toy that he dropped hours ago, just because some other brat took it.

“How ya suck at doing the most mundane things. It's still funny to me to think you help save people’s lives.” It’s the most empty laugh that he forces out of him and you’re so sorrowful at his broken expression you can't force yourself to laugh back. “How ya helped save my life.”

It takes you long to react, something in your head not clicking when he speaks those words to you, something warm and soft yet scary all mingling together in your guts, hyper-focusing on the way his calloused fingertips press against your cheeks, digging in and pulling out a tiny wince from your lips, fully aware of the poking action happening to your abdominal, you don’t know how to feel, you don’t know what to do or say, slouched under his body with a dry throat that can’t utter a single syllable.

You blink up at him and do the first thing that comes to your mind, something you don’t think you’ll ever do, yet wouldn’t stop thinking about, something that doesn’t seem so scary now that he’s right here in front of you, so close for you to grasp,

You urge your body against his restraints, arching your back and pushing yourself up to press your lips against him, but fall back in a flop when you don't think of how much weight you’re actually trying to push against.

With a flump, your body heats up in self-consciousness, shifting your sight away from him when his eyes glint deviously, and you don’t dare question the reasoning. You’re not even given time to retaliate or even explain yourself.

Because he’s pressing his lips against you in the most ferocious kiss you ever had, all teeth crashing together in a way that's too harsh, too painful, too fierce, exactly everything you know Katsuki to be.

He’s overbearing, he’s aggressive, but he gets a little soft when you don’t push him away, when you’re not overwhelmed by the storm that is Bakugou Katsuki, the hero Dynamight, with the bad public reputation and anger issues. No, you welcome all of it, all of him, melting into his warmth and overtaken by the scent of burnt caramel that reminds you of nothing short of the comfort and safety of home.

The way you’re wrapping your arms around his neck to push him even closer to you has him groaning against your mouth, quick to force his tongue between your lips as his hips rut against your thigh. You don’t utter a single word, but every action, every movement, every effort to bring him that much closer to you speaks volumes to him.

Alas, he’s the one to pull away, teeth tugging at your lower lip, eyes lustful as he watches it bounce back into place when he lets go, a smirk all but stretches across his face when you mewl at him, surging forward to chase after him.

He’s quick to lay you down on the sofa, wedging between the meat of your thighs before he drops his weight on you, chuckling lowly at the way his body urges you to inhale a breath of fresh air, that gets caught in your throat when he dives in to sink his teeth into your neck.

“So fuckin’ eager ain'tcha?” His voice is rasped, muffled as he busies himself with sucking every inch of skin under your jaw. “All f’me, hm?” It's the way you’re claimed as his that has your head spinning, tugging at the roots of his hair as his hands squeeze the fat of your thighs, inching up and sliding under your shirt, grinning against your skin when you writhe under him.

He groans loud against your ear when his thumbs brush over the pebbled skin of your nipples, biting at your earlobe as his fingers reach to pinch at the bud. Quick to messily bunch up the material to get an eyeful of your tits. Something feral reverberating from deep within his throat when you make an effort to cross your arms against them.

“Fuck, not gonna lemme see?” He taunts, biting at the skin of your forearms, earning a low hiss before you slap at his bicep. “Hurts you fucker.” You pout, only for your lips to be pressed against his again, your wrists firmly pressed against the armrest. “Shaddap, wanna fuckin’ see you, baby.” Your body shivers on instinct, your hands flying down to tug your shirt off the minute he lets go of them, more focused on your tits as his hands trail over the supple skin, on your nipple as he leans down to bite at it, to wrap his lips around it, suckling harshly on it while his hand twists the other between his fingers, humming lowly around it when you whine and tug at the roots of his hair.

“No, no, keep it on, fuck, keep it on.” He muffles around your skin, rutting his hips against the seat before his mouth moves on to your other nipple, resulting in you whining at the sudden cold breeze hitting your wet skin. His hands travel down to your shorts, quick to make their way under the elastic and biting at your bud when his fingers press directly against your slit, not realizing you weren’t wearing any panties until his finger is covered in your slick.

“Fuck,” he pulls himself up to tug your shorts off, lowering himself and spreading your thighs, with more strength when he feels you resisting. “Prancin' around the place practically naked, ha? Just beggin' for me to fuck you dumb.'' His palms are sweaty and hot, almost uncomfortably so, even with your body several degrees warmer with the amount of desire and lust swirling inside you, evident by the glistening sheen of slick over your labia.

His fingers are sprawled against the meat of your thighs, squeezing tight as if you’re gonna slip away from between his fingers, rasping an ‘atta girl’ when you stop resisting, allowing him to fully see you, and what a fucking sight it is. “Atta fuckin’ girl, that's it.” he groans, pressing his thumb against your slit, peppering soft -as soft as he could get given his desire- kisses along your thighs and abdominal, sighing against your skin when you fully relax under his touch.

His eyes flicker between your heaving chest and your glistening folds, biting as his lip when his thumb nudges at your clit before pressing against it, moving in slow circles as you keen at his touch. “Wanna stuff this fuckin’ pussy so full,” he mutters against your thigh, breathing heavily when his words alone get your walls to clench around nothing.

All too sudden, his thumb retreats, and before you even open your mouth to utter a sound, his lips replace its place, and your mouth opens for a whole different reason. He licks, sucks, and slurps all too lewdly for your own sanity, his hand making its way to push your leg up to rest against the headrest, grinning when there’s more of you to revel in.

He's eating you out sloppily, feral as he ravishes you, the thought of ever getting sick of the way you taste is absolutely impossible to him. The way he has you jolting brings pride to him, feeding into his ego the more he notices how obedient you are to him, your leg still unmoving from where he placed it. He notices how hard he has to suck to get your voice to reach a higher octave, and abuses the fact that he got you where he wants you, a moaning mess right under him.

He prods a finger at your slit, coating itself in your slick before pushing in, the stretch from its thickness burning as your fingers run through his hair and tug, harsher the more the stretch burns. He’s moving slow, way too slow, he has you thrashing your head while still not all the way in, waiting for you to beg for more, for more of it, for more of him.

“Kats-, yes!” a needy moan escapes you when he starts pumping his single digit, his mouth breathing heavily right above your clit instead of just pressing it against the fucking-

“Yea? Ya like it?” you yelp out a few ‘yeah’s, rocking your hips up to get his mouth on your neglected nub. “Use yer words,” he murmurs, his hand pressing your hips down against the sofa, his calloused fingers curve, and your high-pitched cry is all the noise he needs to hear. “What do ya want, hmm? C'mon, tell me.”

“M-more, want more, ah, fuck!” It's all in a desperate, filthy noise, and it’s so broken it gets you exactly what you’re asking for. Katsuki pushes another finger, and the way your pussy clenches around his digits has him grinding his hips into the sofa, his angry growl vibrating against your sensitive cunt as he finally lowers his head down again to lick and suck at your neglected clit.

His calloused fingers curve again, just like the first time that had you seeing stars and beckon you to cum, while his lips suck at your swollen puffy clit. He grunts into your pussy, wanting you to release all over his fingers, his wrist, his tongue, all over him.

He finds new angles to press his fingers against you, pulling out strangled sobs and needy whines you didn't know you were capable of. And he targets them more vigorously, narrow-minded in getting you to cum and drip all over him.

He’s cruel when he toys with you, his fingers stilling when your hips jerk or your body jolts, waiting for you to settle down before continuing his ministration on you, and your body shivers as waves of heat wash over you, needy in breaking the tight knot deep within you.

You’re a mess when he looks back at you, your tits spilling out of the shirt, head thrown back with your tongue lolling out, mouth open in a drawn-out moan. He can’t stop himself from slapping your thigh, wanting you to pay attention to him as much as he’s paying it to you.

Your body jerks up in pain, pulling a hiss from your bitten lips as you drag your head forward to meet his eyes with your lustful ones. All of you, all that has become to be you, is his, all fucking his.

“C’mon princess,” he grunts against you amidst the slurping and the squelching of his pumping fingers in you, strings of your slick and his saliva keeping his lips attached to your pussy. “Wanna see you fall apart for me, cum f'me.” It’s all muffled against your cunt, your body reacts to it, either way, feeling every breath and every whisper against it. “C’mon, fuck.”

Your body is on fire, whining and crying out the faster he works against you, impatient to see you fall apart for him when you reach your climax. Your lungs burn, and you breathe in with a struggle, only for you to choke on it when your orgasm hits you so suddenly, it has your entire body shaking, a loud wail of his name the only thing you’re uttering when the knot in your abdominal breaks, and your head presses against the headrest when you gush around his relentlessly moving fingers.

He eventually starts slowing down, when your squirming gets too much for his liking, his garnet eyes glinting in delight at the sight of your spent body, working to get you to come down from your high.

And with a last strangled sob that has your tears cascading down your temples, he finally pulls them out, only for them to press against your lolled-out tongue.

“Ka-Katshu—” you choke out, needy and satisfied all at once as you wrap your lips around them when he presses further, almost getting you to gag on them when he pushes them in. and when you lick them clean does he move up to admire the mess he made of you.

His body hovers over yours, your chest pressing against his with every deep exhale you take, whimpering softly as reach up to pull his face to yours, vision clouded with unshed tears and you flutter your eyelids close when he slips his tongue between your already awaiting parted lips.

“So beautiful, so fuckin beautiful,” he whispers against your lips, dragging his lips to press kiss after kiss against your jaw as you catch your breath. “Look at you, already a fuckin mess and I still haven’t wrecked you with my cock.” You don’t register his words, so drunk on the feel of his lips against your body, both neglective of the way he’s smearing your juices against your lips at first, drowning you in your flavor before leaving a trail of it behind every kiss.

“Fuck…” Katsuki hisses when his cock makes contact with the cool air after taking his pants off, thick shaft bobbing up against his abdomen, exposing his pretty pink tip dribbling with pre.

“See what you fuckin’ do to me, baby?” He sighs, running his fingers along the apples of your cheeks, biting his lip as he looks down at you. “Yeah,” you gulp. “Like knowing that I have that effect on you.” you can’t help but stare at him, lustful eyes at the way it looks bigger than you expected -and only then do you realized that you’ve actually fantasized about it- in terms of length of course, but how thick it is has your head spinning of scenarios of you not being able to take all of him.

It doesn’t take much for him to start easing himself in you, thumb pulling at your labia to admire the way you take him in, the way you suck him in, even with you whining and whimpering about how big he is, he just couldn’t stray his eyes from the glorious sight of your cunt swallowing all of him.

“Ka- it hurts, s’big Katsu.” you cry, clawing at his back when he lowers himself, body engulfing yours when he settles atop you, holding his weight on his forearms on either side of your head. “Fuck, I know, I know, it -fuck- it’ll feel better, feel so, so fuckin’ good,” he whines against your ear, nose pressing against your cheek as he speaks, before he kisses at your temples, chuckling at your cursing when he started licking at them, using your momentary distraction to push more of his girth between your cushiony walls.

And when another sob racks your body, he shushes you gently, restraining against his better judgment to force all of him in by pressing more kisses against your face as his finger traced down to draw soft slow circles against your clit. “Shh, it’s alright, you got it, there you go, that’s it, that’s my fuckin’ girl.” he praises against your lips softly, pressing kisses against your eyelids when your brows stopped twitching in pain, your pained whimpers turning into those of pleasure.

“Mhm,” you hum aloud, fluttering your eyes open to stare at his blown-out pupils, mouth ajar in a silent moan, gasping when he pouts his lips to spit down your throat, both of you groaning loud when he bottoms out, his tip twitching against your gummy walls.

It's obvious how pussy drunk Katsuki gets because if you focus hard enough, you can see he looks even more of a mess when he’s finally balls deep in the warmth of your cunt, his feral growls and rough rasps are more whiney and desperate with every grind inside you.

Katsuki vows that your pussy is the closest thing he would ever get to meeting god, while you swear that you hear angels sing every time he fills you to the brim with his girth, both of you so intoxicated with the feeling of the other.

“Katsuki—” You call out his name in ecstasy, coming out as depraved pleads, higher and louder with every harder thrust, every deeper thrust, his hips snapping against yours and you wail when the sound of his balls smacking against the curve of your ass echo in the quiet room.

“That’s right, say my name, say my fuckin’ name.” His words are as rough as his thrusts, cursing as he sheathes in your cunt, savoring the way your walls pulsate around him every time his tip twitches inside, massaging his cock, and savoring the feeling of his size in you.

The hands that have been roaming your body are coming down to hold your hips and draw vigorous circles over your clit. “Y’wanna cum for me?” he taunts, moving slower when you don’t reply immediately, wanting to hear your voice talk to him, begging for him. “Y-yes, wanna cum, m’so fucking close.” you cry, and he takes it as an invite to rub more rapidly, snap his hips more aggressively, grunting praise after the other between his panting breath.

“Fuck, squeezing me s’good princess, you gonna cum, huh? Gonna cum on my fucking cock baby? Wanna see you make a fuckin’ mess, cum f’me baby girl”

His face contouring into an expression of pure euphoria, sinking down to swallow your cries with his mouth over yours, bodies sticking together because of the sweating. His jaw falls open when your walls clench even more around him, praises dying in his throat at the sight under him.

Him, all of him, has you falling off the edge, has you sobbing as scalding heatwaves wash over your entire body, your body shakes as your back arches, wailing when he rests his head near your ear, pushing at your body down flat against the sofa, panting and moaning softly, doing his best to keep a quick pace. Your cunt squelching with his cum makes him whine desperately, his thrusts getting a little rougher.

Now he's the one whining all pathetically, letting out soft ‘hah’s when he takes in the white film of cum coating the base of his cock. “Fuck, fuck, baby,” strained cries coming out of him, leaning down to press his lips against yours needly, begging for something to hold him down, not wanting to lose it just yet. His hands grab at the fat of your thighs, gripping the back of your knees to fold them against your chest, and you prepare yourself for the deeper thrusts that are gonna be pressing into you.

But he pulls out, so suddenly that he pulls out a loud desperate cry from you, reaching up at him when he sits back, only for him to stand back up, he pumps the thick shaft of his cock, tip fiery red with the orgasm denial. He grinds his teeth together as his eyes rake your body, hyper-focusing on the way your cunt clenches over nothing, your clit is so puffy it's driving him crazy.

But he's a man on a mission and he keeps one hand wrapped around his girth while the other fetches your phone, holding it to your drunken expression to unlock it.

Before you question his actions when he brings the phone up, the sofa dips as he sits on his knees in front of you again, he hums in thought, grabbing the base of his cock to smack his tip against your clit, chuckling when you whimper and jump.

Katsuki growls deeply behind the phone, leaning down to spit harshly against your cunt, grabbing the base of his cock and sliding the head across your hole. He trails one hand up to flick his thumb against your clit, his other hand aiming the phone closer to where you’re connected, leaning in close, easily sliding his entire length into your cunt, groaning loudly at the way you desperately clench and adjust to his size.

“Yer cunts lockin me in so tight, ya want me to fill you baby?” he groans loud, holding one leg up to get a better angle while thrusting and filming, and you’re filled with so much pleasure that you don’t even try and take your phone back from him, relishing in the way he fills you up over and over and over again.

“Gonna cum in this pussy. you're gonna let me fill this pussy up, yeah? Gonna lemme fuck it up?” he’s whining as the phone shakes in his hand, yet still determined to record the whole thing, the way your tits bounce harder with every harsh thrust, whispers of ‘atta girl’ and ‘take this cock’ are all you hear besides the constant moan slipping past your lips. His sweat is dripping down his forehead, bangs sticking to it as he pants harder and louder, his voice getting higher the closer he is to his orgasm.

“Say my name, say my fucking name,” he’s feral, his hips having a mind of their own as he rocks you against the sofa, you whine loud in pain as your head pounds against the armrest, yet the headache doesn’t matter to whats pounding into your cunt.

“Katsuki—” he doesn’t care about anything, if he even loses his hearing right after hearing you cry out his name like that, he wouldn't have it any other way. Because to him, this is all that fucking matters in the world, you milking his cock for all its worth and him panting like a bitch in heat right on top of you, claiming everything that made you into who you are, as his.

Katsuki’s head falls back as he cums, thick sticky seed coating your walls and dribbling out to coat his cock. He pants gruffly as he fucks his cum into you, thumb finding your clit to rub messy circles into it and chuckling deeply.

He throws your phone behind his back, and you hear it plop against one of the cushions as he flops atop of you, still buried to the hilt as he presses kiss after kiss against your lips, cheeks, eyes, pulling out and watching his cum drip out of you, only to scoop it out and press it right back in, leaning down to worship your entire body with praises and soft, feather-like kisses against you.

“Hey,” you whisper to him after a while, both of you cuddled up on the sofa, glistening bodies sticking together as he hides his face in your neck, traces the bruises on it with his nose, kissing your jaw and the back of your ear every few seconds.

“Hmm?” he leans away to stare at you, lids droopy as he smiles lazily at you, nuzzling his nose to yours as his hands roamed your body, squeezing at your ass before diving under your shirt to run his blunt nails against your back.

“What was the video for?” you play with his hair, the question not really needing an answer, seeing as it was in your phone and you could delete it any minute. It was really hot at the moment and he probably just did it on the spur of the moment, no harm no foul, right?

Right?

Wrong.

Because what Shinsou watches on his screen is something he never thought he would, the video playing on loop, there was so much of you and so, so much of him.

Y/N: fuckin’ my roomie, hah? well then what’s this shit for brains, ‘m balls deep inside your bitch ‘n there’s shit you can do about it

Everyone knew college was stressful. Deadlines nearly every single week, assignments and essays, not to mention attending classes brought a whole new wave of anxieties for students every single day. Sometimes that stress was either doubled or relieved by having a partner for a project or two. Luckily for you, you and your old high school classmate Katsuki Bakugou were paired up for a project for one of your Quirk Law classes. It was a research project, one that required a forty slide presentation. You were headed on your way to Katsuki’s dorm today to work on it at the time you agreed upon: 5pm. Then you two would study together for upcoming midterms. It was all planned out down to a tee. So at around 3:50pm, Katsuki knew he had time. He figured he needed a break from his Rescue Tactics Indoors II class, otherwise his brain would begin oozing from his ears.

Pushing aside his overpriced textbook, he rolled his shoulders back, hearing the cracks of his stiff muscles while he stretched at his desk. He let out a sigh, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through his socials. Mina had posted a Throwback Thursday post, an old one of him and you back in your freshman year of college. His nose twitched in annoyance as he recalled the parties, more specifically Denki Kaminari’s birthday party, where he had gotten so drunk that the walls melted and bent before him. Katsuki’s expression changed however, as he swiped through the collection of photos to stumble across an image of you and him. Have you always worn dresses that tight? You practically had your ass out from how short your garment had been cut, tits threatening to spill out of your low hanging neckline. Not only that, but Katsuki had an arm slung around your shoulder. His smile was stretched wide due in part to the alcohol in his system, but also because you were standing next to him. You were laughing at something Mina had said behind the camera, your hand tossed against the slightly unbuttoned shirt Katsuki had worn that night. Your fingers had brushed against his toned chest and he scoffed at the thought. Slowly but surely, memories of that party flooded back to Katsuki in waves.

They were mostly recounts from Kirishima and Mina, but apparently you two had made out in front of everyone that night. He swiped left again, swallowing dryly as he saw just that. Your manicured fingers were wrapped tight around his party shirt, tongues in a deadly dance of want and desperation for each other. Katsuki’s eyes grew as he noticed that the photo hadn’t cut out the part where he had been kneading your ass through that skimpy dress of yours. Immediately, Katsuki went to Mina’s dms demanding to take down the photo. And she did, thank god, but not without sending Katsuki more than ten photos of you and him making out at the party. He clenched his jaw, anger and a low desire plaguing his conscience. Glancing to the top left corner of his phone, he noted the time. 4:10pm.

He had time.

Saving the photos to his gallery, he pushed his chair away from his desk to have some fucking breathing room. His eyes flitted down to his sweats and as he expected, there was a tent forming. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his palms off on his pant leg before languidly beginning to palm himself through his clothes. His breaths quickened, chest stuttering as he looked to his phone displaying the photos of you and him. There’s a faint recollection in the back of his head of how you taste. Like cherries from your glossy lips, like vodka from the shots you took off of Denki earlier that evening, how you moaned into his mouth the night you had drunkenly kissed.

Katsuki tugged the waistband of his sweats down, allowing his previously constrained cock to breathe. It slapped against his stomach, heavy and leaking. Shit, he didn’t remember being this horny at the beginning of this. Spitting into his palm, he lubed up his dick as best as he could on short notice. His eyelids drooped as he swiped through the pictures like a filmstrip, a montage of all the best moments he had with you at that party. You grinding on his lap, you whispering dirty ideas you wanted to do with him later, you, you, you…

Katsuki squeezed his aching shaft, fisting his cock as precum dribbled down his slippery head. His face was an uncanny shade of crimson, a testament to how horny he was all for a few old pictures of the two of you. “Y/n.” He swore he barely recognized his voice from how breathless and needy it was. He continued to pump his cock, the only thoughts replaying in his mind were perverted fantasies of you bouncing on his dick hard enough to hear the slap of your ass cheeks against his abs.

Tapping the screen of his phone twice to zoom in, he admired your curves with pursed lips. Fuck, you really were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a sinful nature he could never put his tongue on. You were tempting him, licking flames up his body with such intensity that made him shiver. He cursed, thumb drifting over his slit as he hissed. Fuck you for being as ravishing as you were that night, fuck you for making him feel so goddamn needy for your-

“Bakugou, I was about to text you but I remembered you were studying today, so I figured it would be okay if I came a bit...” your words trailed off. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to process the scene unfolding before you. Katsuki Bakugou, holding his dick in his hand, face on fire with a deep blush, his other free hand secure around his phone with- was that a picture of you from your freshman year of college? There was a beat of silence, Katsuki’s uneven breathing the only sound in the room aside from the low drawl of the ceiling fan over both of your heads. You gaped at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips upon realizing his hand hadn’t stopped moving. If anything, you saw his hand flex around his cock, further tightening his grip as you stood right in front of him.

“What the fuck-”

“What?” he beat you to the punch, his lips twitching into a devilish smile, “Don’t like what you see?” His confidence knocked the air out of you, your bewildered attitude showing true on your features. Your body feels warm, searing beneath his gaze. “Excuse me?” you squeaked out, overcome with both curiosity and a hint of lust for the ash blond.

“Are you gonna fucking help me or not?” His pride was refusing him to be flustered, not when he was this feverish for you. He needed the upper hand, he needed control over this situation. And it seemed by how you were shifting your weight from side to side, that it was happening just as he wanted. Who were you to refuse such an offer from Katsuki Bakugou?

And that’s how you ended up here, nestled between thick, muscled thighs with your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He had you spit over his dick, his entire shaft gleaming in all its glory as it stood to attention in your grasp. The flash of his camera burned your eyes as you suckled on his crown, hand continuously jerking his cock while he ravenously watched you through the screen. The guttural groan that escaped him was nothing short of music to your ears, your thighs tensing as the coils of heat continued to build and knot between your legs.

“Mm. Keep going like that, take it. All the way in now, like a good little slut,” Katsuki instructed, his voice slicing through the heavy atmosphere of desire. The words make you whimper, enveloping his sensitive head in vibrations while you lick around his slit. A large hand cupped your face, forcing you to make eye contact with the ash blond behind the camera. His black tank top truly had no confines over him, since it was tight enough to see the outlines of his pecs and ripped torso. Katsuki sure worked hard to maintain his appearance, but you knew he had the strength to back those muscles up. The thought of him completely dominating you, holding you with strong arms and pinning you down with his body made your pussy even more wet with your slick than it already was. Even from how you were on your knees, Katsuki possessed an unspoken will over you. You wanted to please him, make him feel good, make him have no good reason not to give you everything he had to offer.

You took your lips off of his head with a little ‘pop’, eyes wide and expectant as a string of drool connected your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Bakugou’s smile grew, making sure your face was completely in frame and in focus. “Dirty girl,” he hummed, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek before guiding your lips toward his twitching cock. You slowly kissed the vein on the side of it, mumbling out four words:

“Your dirty girl, daddy.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Katsuki let out a low, gravelly moan. It was as if a switch inside him had flipped. Without warning, he’s pulling you off the floor and sitting you down in his desk chair instead. He’s a bit rough, his vision clouded by the sheer want to fuck you until you were screaming his name, until his name was the only word your pretty little brain could recall. He abandoned his phone and instead had his hands drop to the armrests of his desk chair, encasing your body as he towered over you. Your skirt was immediately shucked up your waist and Katsuki’s hands went to work on your panties. He ripped them off completely, tossing them aside without a care as to where they went. He gazed down at you with fervour, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he coaxes with a grin, teeth shining. His hand slipped between your thighs, his index and middle finger tracing up and down your slit. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your thighs instinctively closing around his hand. Your face bloomed with warmth, eyes darting away from his cocky demeanour, “Baku—”

Your body jolted as a firm smack was delivered to your sensitive pussy, a wet, lewd sound meeting your ears as he did. It made a high pitched, whiny moan be pulled out from your throat.

Fuck.

“Try again,” he ordered, tone demanding and almost condescending. His lips ghosted yours yet he never had any intention of moving close enough to seal the gap between the two of you. You whimpered, eyes meeting the dark red irises that were staring straight through you.

“‘S yours, daddy.”

“Now that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

His lips found yours, teeth tugging at your bottom lip hard enough to make the warmth in your stomach double. The liquid heat had been building ever since you walked in, and you were fairly certain that you weren’t going to last much longer.

He hooked your knees over his elbows, biceps flexing as the muscles in his arms supported your full weight. He picked you up with such ease, your arms flying around his neck as you squeal, gasping at how little effort that took him. He was a pro-hero in training, of course he had practiced lifting people up no matter their body type or size. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He thought you looked rather angelic clinging onto him regardless. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat with his hands spreading your cheeks, grunting as he adjusted you in his arms. He slid slowly into your slick cunt inch by suffocating inch, your walls fluttering and enclosing around his throbbing cock. Katsuki’s breathing was unsteady, eyes watching your expression intently in hopes that this new position would give you as much pleasure as it was giving him. His ego was running rapant from how you were holding onto him for dear life. You were practically shaking in his grasp, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as all you could do was gape at how deep he reaches within you. You were keening, eyes hazed with lust and nails digging crescents into his shoulder blades hard enough to make him hiss.

When you finally catch your breath and adjust to his size, you give him a curt nod as an indication for him to start moving. Slowly, he lifted you up off his cock until his head kissed your entrance before allowing gravity to do most of the work. This position had his cock nudging your cervix and it made the knot in the pit of your stomach squeeze further, threatening to snap with every loud smack of his balls echoing through his dorm room. He pistoned into you like that, reaching deeper to rearrange your insides. It was like your entire body was being engulfed with pleasure and fire. He took in your face, how it scrunched in pleasure, hair sticking to your face as you mumble out how much you want to cum, how much you need to cum.

“Fuckin’ tight just for daddy, hah?” he cooed to you, “You wanna cum all over my cock like a little slut? You were watching me from the door jerking off for you. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Who’s making you feel good? Say it. Spit it out.”

“You!” you moaned, your head feeling light from the way the veins on the side of his cock rubbed your walls, “You, daddy. Please let me cum. I w- wanna cum!”

“I can’t hear you,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes steeled before you unmoving and unwilling to give you permission just yet. “Please!” you begged, “I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl, daddy! Please let me cum!” You were too engrossed in your pleasure to have any semblance of shame. Katsuki grinned. That’s what he wanted to hear. He let out a tiny ‘tch’ before uttering out, “Then cum, slut.”

Without another word, you let out a final wanton moan, gushing around him as the liquid heat finally expels from your body. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body quivering with each new sensation as you hold Katsuki’s cock within your cunt. Your nails leave angry red marks along Katsuki’s shoulders, ultimately sending him hurtling towards his own release.

Cum dripped down his twitching cock, your chest heaving as your legs feel like jelly. Tingles shot down your spine as Katsuki pumped rope after rope of his sticky cum well enough to paint your inner walls white. He helped you ride out your high, delivering harsh bitemarks to your neck to leave a mural of hickeys claiming you as his. The smile he gives you is cocky, prideful, and arrogant. He placed you back down on his desk chair, your thighs still going through the aftershocks of your high. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the app icon for his camera. He knelt down, chuckling as your fingers slid between your legs to spread your lower lips for him. His cum seeped out past your slit, leaking down to your puckered asshole.

“There we go. Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, hm?”

Tiredly, you nodded.

“‘M daddy’s good girl.”

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@lonleyweeb77 @cynthus-no @lonelyheart-cluband @smhhyung @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling @kirislilrock @baku-deku1 @hajisuu @damnitcrowley @foruthemoon @peaxhcringe @justanotheruselessextra @izukuuarchive @katsuki-kitten @shokoarashi sorry i couldn’t tag all of you!

- Size kink, major size kink. Loves when you whine about him being to big.

- Loves when you ride his face, grabs two handfuls of your ass and pushes you down harder.

- When he's had a real bad day he'll come home and just rail you. Face down ass up he's not stopping until you’re a overstimulated whimpering mess.

- this bitch loves having his dick sucked and yes he's a major head pusher, the messier the better.

- Please let him cum inside, the sight or your pretty little hole dripping with his cum fuels his ego to no end.

-Cock warming? Hell yeah, loves being buried in you, it keeps him calm when he's doing paperwork, lazy day off? You're hardly leaving his lap.

There’s an air vent right underneath the stove that blows directly onto your feet, and right now you’re more than grateful for the existence of slippers.

The ingredients for the Yakimeshi have finally been prepped, and you hiss at the loud sizzling they make when it all hits the wok.

It’s three in the morning; an ungodly hour to be awake at, and nobody else is up.

Nobody except for you, and apparently the tall, black haired now Pro-Hero who slaps a large hand onto your shoulder, causing you to jump and nearly sling the wok off of the hot burner.

“What’re you doin’ up this late?” Sero asks, walking to stand beside you and leaning up against the counter. He gives you a once over and then looks to the Yakimeshi, nodding with raised eyebrows in approval. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Getting scared shitless by one of my classmates, apparently,” you snark lightheartedly, earning you a giggle. “And why are you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sero replies simply.

You nod, turning back to the wok on the burner as you stir the rice. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence after that, with you stirring and Sero watching. He’s hunched over a little, watching your movement with an elbow on the counter and his hip jutted out.

After about another minute of stirring and flipping the rice, you elbow him softly in the ribs, “make yourself useful and get some bowls, will you?”

It’s his turn to narrow his eyes but he steps away from the counter anyway, turning around to grab two bowls from the cabinet.

You fall into a brief silence again as you turn the burner off, moving the Yakimeshi around in the wok one last time before splitting the dish into the bowls.

“We’re graduating soon,” Sero says suddenly, grabbing two pairs of chopsticks from the drawer and turning back to you. He holds one up in front of you and you take it up graciously, finally digging into the stir fry. “Are you nervous?”

“Ish dat why you canf shleep?” You question through a mouthful of rice. You chew for a couple seconds and then swallow, “you’re nervous?”

He laughs at the curious tilt of your head and the grains of rice at the corner of your mouth. Using his thumb, he wipes away the rice with a toothy grin, “kinda, I guess. We’re about to be real Pro-Heroes.”

You clear your throat, cheeks warm, “in that case, yeah, I’m a little nervous.”

His eyes widen just a hair before he nods in understanding, digging into his own bowl of Yakimeshi. You take the way he stuffs his mouth full of rice as a hint to continue,

“I don’t think we have to be nervous, though.”

There's a beat of silence before he swallows. “Why’s that?”

You take a second to think, setting your nearly finished bowl down onto the counter beside you.

“We’re strong.” Is what you settle on finally, straightening yourself up as you look him in the eyes. “We’re strong, and we have each other.”

Sero smiles, and nods again with a small laugh, “I can’t really argue with that.”

“You’re a great hero already, Sero,” you say, sliding your slipper-clad feet across the linoleum to stand beside him. You lean your head on his shoulder; he stiffens a little.

“How—,“ he takes a breath, “how do you know that?”

You laugh, and that’s when he finally relaxes. His shoulders soften and cushion your head much better now. He sets his bowl down on the counter beside him.

“Well, for one, you’re great with kids,” you start off honestly, “every good hero has to be great with kids.”

“You think so?” He asks softly, looking down at the top of your head on his shoulder.

“I know so.” You confirm for him. “You’re also strong. Physically, that is. You have really nice arms, Sero.”

He barks a laugh, a sound far too loud for this late at night when everyone else is asleep. You shush him, playfully hitting his arm as you break into a fit of quiet giggles yourself.

“Thank you,” he says once the two of you have quieted down. There's a confused pinch to your brows as you straighten up and place your chin on his shoulder to look up at him through your lashes. He meets your curious stare and smiles.

“Thanks for saying I’m a great hero, I mean,” he clarifies, clearing his throat. You smile up at him, a sight that makes him a little nervous. It makes his heart beat a little faster and his chest feel… funny. Funny is just about the only word he can use to describe it, he reckons.

“Of course,” you say earnestly. You step away for a brief moment, straightening yourself up beside him only to move towards the sink to clean up.

He doesn’t let you get too far.

Wrapping a large, warm hand around your wrist, he tugs you back to him gently until you’re face to face. He looks tired; there are faint dark circles under his eyes and they look a little bloodshot, too.

You whisper his name, your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you squeeze the hand that eventually slipped down to grasp your own. He says yours back with a smile.

“I like you— a lot, actually,” he says, bringing his free hand up to cup your cheek. “So please don’t become a stranger.”

His confession doesn’t necessarily surprise you, especially not with the way he looks at you right now, but your heart jolts despite everything.

You let go of his hand to wrap your arms around his neck. One of your hands finds its way into the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching softly. Sero shivers under your touch.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask him, laughing a little after his eyes widen at the question. He nods, a little excitedly, and tilts his head to the side to meet his lips with yours.

He smiles into the kiss, and you find it hard not to do the same. Large, warm hands make themselves at home at the curve of your waist, running slowly up and down. They move everywhere, from your lower back to the center of your spine, feeling as much of you as he can before he can’t feel you anymore, at least not for a while.

Your lips hover over each other for a second, at most a centimeter away, before they meet again. His tongue now pokes at your bottom lip, timidly asking for permission to go further and you comply, opening wider to let his tongue mingle with your own.

A surprised sound crawls its way up your throat and into Sero’s mouth when his hands grip your waist tighter, spinning the two of you around until it’s you who’s backed up against the counter. You shift and hop up onto the marble, nipping at Sero’s bottom lip as you wrap your legs around his hips, dragging him in closer to you.

He moans softly against your mouth, the movement of his hands and lips slowing to a halt before things could escalate. He pulls away then, taking in your pouted lips and hazy eyes. His mouth splits into a grin and he wiggles his eyebrows, chuckling at the way your palm hits his chest and the breathy ‘shut up’ that leaves your lips.

“I take it you like me back?” He teases, his grin turning into a full blown smile when you roll your eyes, trying to fight a smile of your own.

“No, actually,” you quip sarcastically, leaning up to press a kiss on his cheek, “I hate your guts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, squeezing your hips, “that why your tongue was down my throat two minutes ago?”

You’re the one that’s laughing now as you playfully shove him off of you, making your way to the sink to finally clean up. And to separate yourself from him so he can’t comment on the heat radiating from your cheeks.

His words from before hit you after you turn the water on and start rinsing the bowls out. A second passes before his arms wrap around your waist and his warm chest presses against your back. It’s almost natural, him up against you like this as you do the dishes; like you’ve both done it a thousand times.

Becoming strangers. What a funny possibility for two people like this, don’t you think? You can’t really imagine a time where you and Sero weren’t close. And now? His concern about you both drifting apart after UA seems like a drop in the bucket compared to the other things you both are bound to face within the next few years.

You smile to yourself. Growing up is scary, becoming a full fledged Pro-Hero is scary, but it’s comforting to know that you’re not alone. You will never be alone. Not in your anxieties, your fears, and even in your joys.

Sero leans down to place a soft kiss on your cheek.

you clutch the bouquet of flowers to your chest and smile at izuku. you have a saved image of him pictured into your mind at the very moment. soft brown peppery freckles, gentle bright smile, green shiny orbs… beautiful, you think. absolutely beautiful.

“do you remember our first date?” you begin. the surrounding noise around you is dull. “we were so awkward because we were both so nervous. you had to constantly ask if i was having fun and i tried my best to avoid holding hands because they were so sweaty.”

you recall the date with teary eyes and a soft smile.

“do you remember our first kiss? it was so romantic, even though we ended up bumping noses because we tilted our heads to the same side. it was straight out of a cheesy rom com: the kiss, awkwardness, and fireworks. i loved every moment i spent with you, and you always made our next kisses feel like the first.”

a sigh escapes your throat and you have to remind yourself to not clutch the bouquet too tightly else it breaks.

“do you remember when we both ended up proposing at the same time?” you let out a small giggle. “i would like to say that that was the best day of my life. we were on top of the highest building in japan, staring down at the city lights when we both felt like it was the right time. gosh… i want to relive that moment over and over again.”

a tear falls from your cheek. you can feel your throat knot up with all the emotions that've been bottled up inside of you, but izuku’s warmth reminds you that it’s okay. he’s there.

“i remember every bit of it, izuku. i’m so happy that you’re here with me at this very moment. i know you’ll forever be with me so,” you look down at the bouquet before lowering the chrysanthemums to the grave, “i will be forever devoted to you.”

you feel your heart squeeze when the image of izuku begins to fade.

“izuku,” you sob, “i wish i could say ‘do you remember the day of our wedding,’ but it never got to be written in our book for this lifetime.” you fall on your knees and stare at his name engraved on his stone. “do you remember the first time you told me you loved me? i remember. you were holding chrysanthemums… cheesy smile and red cheeks.” you bring your hand up and swipe the tears that are violently beginning to pour from your eyes. “i asked you why chrysanthemums and you told me i would know soon. i never really looked into it at the time.”

the bouquet of chrysanthemums that you placed ruffled when a gust of wind blew by.

“i know what it means now,” you whisper. “i love you, izuku. i will love you forever. i will never forget every moment we shared together. i hope you know that.” you close your eyes and exhale. “i hope you remember that.”

“Again.” Dabi almost yelled in the empty arena. Crimson flowed from his lip, gliding down his chin but he only wiped it off with a huff. He wanted, no he needed to get this technique right. The lives of his friends all depended on it. He couldn’t afford to be a failure, not again.

From the other side of the arena, you hesitated before putting yourself back into a fighting stance. Even though you were far away the outline of his chest heaving for breath was visible. There was no doubt he was pushing himself. You gulped at the way his eyes took on an animalistic gleam. It wasn’t that Dabi necessarily scared you because he saved your life on more than one occasion, but when he got like this there was no telling what he would do.

It reminded you of the way he was when you first met, he was brash, distant, and above all cruel. It took a lot of time, but he gained all of your trust and changed from the boy he used to be to the man he is now. 

Even though he was on your side, you were still hesitant towards him. You got along as well as expected considering you were a firebender and he was a waterbender who also happened to be the avatar. He made it known he didn’t like you and you weren’t about to go head to head with him. 

“Why don’t we take a break for now,” you tried to reason, rolling your shoulders. “I’m getting pretty tired and after we can train again, how’s that sound?” It wasn’t a complete lie, after all the two of you had to have been training for a few hours now. You wouldn’t mind being able to relax.

Taking his silence as agreement you turned your back and began to walk towards the stands, where the water pouch was. It wasn’t until you opened it and went to hand it to Dabi that you realized he didn’t follow you.

Turning back around, you noticed he was still rooted in place. “Hey man, you okay?”

No response. 

Slowly you began to approach him. You knew something must’ve happened to him in his childhood, having fire lord Enji as a dad of all people must’ve been more than difficult. He never told any of you what happened and you were fine with that: if he wanted to tell you that should be his choice.

Sometimes however, you wished you knew something other than the fact that the fire lord drove his wife to burn Shoto, the youngest. Part of you wished he was with you, he’d know what to do while you were left in the dark.

“Dabi,” you made sure to keep your voice even and soft. “Can you hear me?”

His head was facing the ground almost as if he wished it would swallow him up while his body trembled underneath the sun’s glare. You kept your distance, not wanting to startle him before you called his name again.

“You think I’m weak, don’t you?” He refused to look at you, his tone holding the same edge but there was a sense of vulnerability behind it. 

You stopped in your tracks. 

“What?” You choked out. Your eyes widening at his words. He wasn’t serious was he? Him, weak? There was no way.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He focused his gaze back on you and the sight made your heart drop. There were noticeable bags under his eyes as well as a scrape on his lower lip. He looked tired, defeated. 

Taking your silence as agreement, he scoffed, mumbling out a ‘forget it’ before he began to walk away. 

No no no no no no, you were just making progress too! Without hesitation you grasped his wrist. It wasn’t until he glared down at you that you realized what you did. He raised an eyebrow as you heard the sound of a nearby rock being lifted from the ground.

“Got it,” you said, “removing the hand, but that’s not it at all!” 

The two of you were basked in silence until he smirked.

“Well?” 

It wasn’t the same as his usual ones, but it was a start. You watched him for a second longer before he let out a sigh.

“I’m listening.”

“Oh,” you rubbed the back of your neck. “Right.”

He stood still, waiting for you to continue. On the outside you were completely composed, but on the inside you were internally screaming. Great, what were you supposed to do now? You better have one damn good speech if you want Dabi to stay.

Deciding to wing it, you began to say whatever came out of your mouth in hopes it would be the right call. You told him about the countless times he saved you, the way he’d encourage Keigo, how he always gave into Toga’s antics and made her feel better, how good he was with Shoto, all of it. How strong he really was, and how after everything you’ve gone through with him there was nothing you didn’t think he could do.

“That’s why,” you concluded with a smile on your face. “I know that you’ll be able to firebend, and not just be able to, you’ll fucking ace it.”

You were breathless after the long winded speech, satisfied until panic took over. You glanced up at Dabi with wide eyes. That was probably way too much, what if you just overwhelmed him? What if he thinks your weird now-or even worse what if he hates you again.

A sharp laugh broke you out of your thoughts. Dabi’s head was thrown back revealing his forehead. The sound was genuine and full of life. If you weren’t so shocked by it, you would’ve been in awe. Alas, you were still prepared for imminent doom.

Once he calmed down he could only shake his head at you. 

“You really are something.”

With that he started to walk away once more. Your expression fell. You must’ve messed up, until you heard the familiar nickname. ‘Cactus Juice.’

You gasped rushing after him. “That was one time!”

“Still counts!” He yelled, disappearing into the landscape. 

You looked around the area, the vibrant green making a home in your mind as you tried to find him. “We were in the desert and I was thirsty!”

“Still did it!”

“You weren’t even there!”

“Keigo told me.”

You groaned. Of course he did. He was the first to bring Dabi in with open arms, he was an optimist that way. He believed anybody could change if they really wanted to which is why he was the group’s heart.

The two of you continued to race after each other throughout the day until the sun began to set. Collapsing in the shade of a tree near the arena you attempted to catch your breath while your heart beat tirelessly against your chest. 

You focused on the way explosions of purples and blues and pinks as well as a vibrant orange colored the sky. It was beautiful.

Beside you, Dabi fell on his back, hitting the ground with a soft thud. You laughed slightly.

“Same,” was all you could say, but you knew he got the gist. 

You didn’t know how long you stayed there, under the summer breeze as the sun was replaced with glowing stars. You would’ve stayed there forever. It was warm and for one moment you wished you could stay in the moment forever. 

“Thank you,” Dabi’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You leaned up on your elbows and looked down at him. “For what?”

He gestured around, eyes still looking above him. “All of this, I haven’t uh-” he cut himself off with a cough. “I haven’t been this relaxed since I can’t remember when.”

Oh. You laid back down. “You’re welcome I guess, I mean I didn’t really do anything.” You laughed slightly.

“Believe me, you’ve done more than you give yourself credit for.”

Silence fell between the two of you like the summer breeze, only this time it was colder than before. Getting up the courage you turned to face him. His black hair was out of his face, an easy smile replaced the usual smirk. You gulped. 

“I can hear you thinking over there,” he cracked an eye open. “You can ask me about my childhood, I’m not going to crush you.”

You snorted, the tension leaving your shoulders. You took a deep breath before you spoke, “Why are you so afraid of fire?”

He looked away once more. “A good question, look I don’t know how much you know about my dad, but he wanted the avatar, or at least he wanted one of us to be it. I used to want to do anything to make him proud,” his voice contained nothing but sadness. 

You grasped his hand, your body moving on it’s own for the second time that day. You were about to remove it with an apology once more, but he beat you to it. He interlocked your fingers together. The small smile appeared once more.

He continued. “It wasn’t until Shoto had two quirks that my father believed he was the avatar, he tossed my sister, brother and I to the urb and began to “train” him. I couldn’t do anything, all I could do was listen to his cries and our mom screaming.” Tears began to fall from his face causing your heart to twist.

“Dabi-” You wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to continue, that you shouldn’t have asked, but he only shook his head.

“‘S okay. I want to tell you.”

With that you fell silent and instead opted to run your thumb over his in what you hoped were reassuring circles. He squeezed your hand in return.

“I remember being at the fountain, thinking I didn’t have any bending abilities, and that I was a failure just like the firelord said, but that’s when I realized I could bend water. I told my mom with a smile on my face thinking that I’d finally be worth something, but you should’ve seen the look on her face. She was terrified and told me to keep it a secret. I didn’t understand it at the time, but that decision saved my life. She saved my life.

Fast forward a bit and Shoto is still forced to train and one day the burns were so bad that I finally had enough,” his voice breaks. “I healed him, I didn’t know I could do it, but I just didn’t want to see him hurt anymore. Long story short the firelord found out and he knew it was Rei, he knew it was my mom who told me not to say anything and I-”

His body racked with sobs, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him to your chest. Tears of your own were falling, but you refused to let him go. He kept all of that to himself, while you were traveling and taking the fire nation down he was carrying that too. You wanted to take his pain away even though you knew it was impossible. You wanted to try even if all you could do was stand by and support him. How did somebody so strong think they were so weak?

Once his sobs turned into sniffles he pulled away and stared into your eyes. “He killed her. Right in front of us, so that night I took all of my siblings and fled. Natsuo and Fuyumi are taking refuge in the Earth kingdom while Shoto and I went where we could. We couldn’t stay in one place for too long or else they’d find us. They had spies everywhere, firebenders who wanted the bounty he put on our head, That’s why-”

“That’s why you didn’t trust me when we first met, isn’t it.”

The silence was enough of an answer.

“Do you want to know the real reason I’m afraid of fire?” 

You nodded.

“I’m afraid that when I wield it, it will bring nothing but pain and that I’ll be just like him.” His eyes held a familiar gleam to them. “I don’t want to be like him.”

“You won’t be.” 

You could tell by the way his eyes widened that those were the last words he thought you would say. Wiping away your eyes you shrugged. “What? It’s the truth. You don’t want to be like him so don’t. He only uses fire to bring pain use it for something else. Find your own meaning behind your fire.”

He spluttered on his words. “It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is, after all Shoto is a firebender and you don’t think he will turn evil, do you?”

He was about to speak before he closed his mouth once more, forming it into a pout. “No.”

“See! It’s easy,” you perked up and clapped your hands. “We’ve been going about this all wrong! Instead of training we should focus on what your fire means to you. Ooh, we can make a list or even brainstorm or-”

A splash of water snaps you out of your rambling. 

“Alright! That’s enough, geez I forgot how annoying you are sometimes.” You would’ve been insulted, but the words didn’t hold any mirth and his expression was back to peaceful, only this time it looked like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders.

“That’s fair.” 

“If you tell anybody what I said-”

“You’ll skin me alive?” You looked in his direction snorting at the way he instantly stopped what he was about to say. “I got it, besides what happens between us stays between us. Thank you,” he raises a questioning brow causing you to continue. “For trusting me I mean, that was a lot and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me.”

You didn’t miss the blush dusting across his cheeks as he turned away from you. “Don’t mention it.”

You might’ve been crazy, but you could’ve sworn you heard a faint. 

“Thank you for being somebody I could trust.”

-Bonus-

“So,” Keigo started with a grin at seeing the two of you come back to the site the four of you had set up. His blond hair was messy but blown back out of his face. He stood tall and from what you could tell was well rested. Good, he was going to need it for the ass kicking he was about to receive. “How was your field trip?”

He fixed his gaze to Dabi with interest. “Learn how to firebend yet?”

Dabi smirked and slung an arm around his shoulder. “Nope, but you might want to run.”

“Run?” He snorted, nose crinkling slightly. “Why would I need to?” His eyes lit up in recognition before he tsked. “Oh Dabi, you really want to try and chase me again? I’m not the fastest air bender for no reason you know.”

That earned a genuine snort out of the man. “It’s not me this time, you see I may have told a little somebody that a birdie told me about the Cactus Juice incident.”

Keigo’s expression fell from shock, to panic to utter horror in five seconds flat. “Oh shit.”

“Keigo!” You screeched, rushing towards the two men.

Dabi could only watch in mild amusement before leaning down and whispering, “I think you should start running.”

With that Keigo took off with you in toe shouting for him to come down from the air and fight you himself. He could only shake his head when Toga got involved, joining your side immediately while Shoto looked towards Dabi with furrowed brows until he gestured for his brother to join the chaos.

Eventually he’d be roped into it too, but for now he’d silently thank his lucky stars for having the friends he did and as he watched you tackle Keigo shouting about how you won and to taste defeat like the traitor he was he hoped the two of you could be something more in the future.

For reference: Shoto is 15, Dabi and Hawks are 23, Reader is around their age and Toga is 17