A Multi-fandom blog

then you all watch as the bombshell girl grins, standing up with her arms out and your tall blonde man walks into shot. it’s so not normal to be watching your man not man but the man you share a bed with every night on a date with another woman. said woman with similar hair, skin tone and height.

“i hate this. i hate this.” you repeat, head in your hands.

you’ve been going well with katsuki, almost too well. the producers had to shake something up.

“hi!” the girl sings, “i’ve seen so much about you!”

katsuki looks amazing. mouth watering in fact, with his navy satin shirt and dark bottoms. he takes her smaller frame in a one armed hug, bicep bulging as she hugs around his neck.

“you have? i’m katsuki by the way.” screen katsuki says.

“i’m sakura! lovely meeting you.”

“he’s just being nice right? is he already flirting with her?” you ask around. you get comments of agreement but not without a couple disagreements.

“possibly. hold on!”

“i love how you’re holding yourself in here. how has it been?” sakura asks as they settle themselves in their seats. she’s chatty, bubbly, just like you are and katsuki’s always told you he loves how you can chat his ear off. this is all sorts of fucked.

bakugou leans back in his seat, a slight slouch in his posture and his arms crossed. he doesn’t look inviting but it all gives into the nonchalance of it all, especially paired with a slow grin and glowy eyes.

“thanks, i’ve been trying to keep my head screwed on. it’s crazy in here.” he replies, “though i’ve been enjoyin’ it more than i thought with yn. she’s a great girl.”

you scrunch your nose, “great girl? i’m a great girl? what the fuck does that mean? and it? does that mean me or the experience?”

“we know how much katsuki likes you. he can’t get his hands off you here.”

“but i’m not there now with him. i think i’ve been played,” you panic, “look how he’s staring at her.”

“you’ve been with her from the beginning, one of the longest couples,” sakura pushes and bakugou nods, a sense of pride coming from him. “do you think you’re gonna last to the end?”

bakugou nods sternly, “yeah. though she’s open to get to know new people. well… not that i’d want her to.”

that gets sakura smiling, a testing flirtatious smile, “are you? open to know new people?”

“technically yes. we aren’t in a proper relationship.”

as soon as on screen bakugou finishes his statement, your reaction is given to you by your girls. the villa is taken over by shocked gasps, low whispers and momo wrapping your arms around your shoulders.

“oh he shouldn’t have said that. he’s giving her an opening.”

“yeah… maybe he isn’t who we thought after all.”

“yn, sweetheart, are you okay?”

you wipe the silent tears from under your eyes, not caring if it messes up your make up. you continue watching the boy you have a major, too big for your body crush on, on a date with another woman. hearing her giggle, hearing him huff a laugh and you aren’t mentioned again.

“we’re so fucking done.”

in two hours, all the masculine energy is returned back to the villa with two new girls. sakura and another girl who went on a date with two of the boys. you turn away when you hear the shouts and screams of their return, desperately wanting to lock yourself in the bathroom or crawl into bed away from seeing katsuki’s face.

your heart is broken, torn to shreds. especially when sakura taps your arm to give you a hug and a greeting. she smells lovely, floral with a hint of honey.

“hey! i’m sakura!”

you take a shaky breath. you can’t be mad at her, she’s doing what she came to do, “hi, i’m yn. nice to meet you.”

“baby!”

your spine stiffens at the familiar husky growl, the way it feels like the ground is shaking when he steps closer to you. immediately, you grip momo’s arm.

“i’m not talking to him.”

“hah? yn? baby!” he calls, when momo drags you into one of the seating areas off the kitchen.

bakugou frowns till he focuses on the rest of the girls and he’s frozen.

“what the fuck just happened?”

“you happened, idiot. you were flirting on your date, talking about getting to know new people and mentioned her once!”

bakugou’s eyes widen, “you watched the date?”

kirishima pops up from the corner, “did you watch mine? how did it go?”

mina points to kirishima, “yours was great actually. katsuki, yours was awful.”

bakugou blinks back to what he can remember he said. “we aren’t in a relationship though? she can get to know other people if she wants, i said i wouldn’t want that to happen?”

“then you said you are too!”

“because factually i can! doesn’t mean i want to!”

“but you didn’t say that did you!”

bakugou throws his head back to the sky. shit, he’s fucked it, he’s so completely fucked it. he looks over to where you’re sitting with momo catching your glare for a split second before you shift your whole body away from him.

“for fucks sake.”

bakugou stomps over to where you’re sitting and it burns at how you cringe at his appearance. hours ago you were laying all over him, kissing his neck, holding his hand. now you’re looking at him like he’s gum on your heel.

“yn, let me talk to—,”

“no,” you interrupt, not even bothering to give him eye contact, “go away.”

you look gorgeous tonight. a glittery purple dress he’d love to run his hands down. you’ve got these cute metal butterfly clips in your hair too. he wants to ask about them, count how many you’ve got.

“they told me you saw the date, let me explain myself—,”

that’s when you make eye contact with katsuki. furrowed brows and a snarl behind your teeth. he looks like a puppy with his tail between his legs, scratching his head awkwardly, legs twitching to come closer.

“i said no. i don’t want to talk to you. you can try again tomorrow,” then you scoff under your breath, “or never.”

that gets bakugou’s back up. three weeks together and you’re throwing it away like that?

“you can’t be mad at me if you haven’t even let me say why i said what i said? i don’t want to get to know sakura, i want you! i always have!” he raises his voice, throws his hands in the air.

that’s when you realise, maybe you don’t know this man at all. sure you’ve spent weeks together in bed, cuddling, kissing. you’ve told him your deepest fears and your favourite cities and your biggest dreams. but shouting at you? he must have lost his damn mind.

“are you insane? fuck off katsuki. don’t ever shout at me.” you point your finger to the rest of the group, all staring over with wide eyes, “i said leave. don’t make me tell you again.”

momo beside you takes your hand, “please katsuki. just talk tomorrow.”

slowly bakugou backs up, a bow to his head, “sorry. i’m sorry.”

with that he turns away, ignoring the calls of his name from the rest of the guys and heads straight inside, up the stairs to the terrace to sit alone.

kirishima and mina join him after ten minutes while a few more girls join you on the sofa.

you successfully avoid bakugou for the rest of the night. sitting nowhere near him, letting your friends come to you and leaving the kitchen as soon as he steps in. you notice the pitiful gazes across the villa, the guys try to step in with “he’s a good guy, however he came across in the date it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

that makes you roll your eyes because you saw the raw footage of the date. how can you ignore what you saw?

until it’s bed time and bakugou finds you about to brush your teeth in the bathroom. he whispers over to you, shirtless in his pyjama bottoms while your friends giggle amongst themselves about events earlier today.

“do you want me to sleep somewhere else?”

he looks at you through the mirror in your skimpy pyjama shorts and long sleeve top.

you give him half a second of attention, “do whatever you want.”

then you stick your toothbrush in your mouth, signifying the conversation is over.

bakugou rubs a palm over his face in exasperation, stomping out the bathroom.

when you step into the shared bedroom, you see katsuki under the covers in your shared bed. he looks over at you nervously, stretching his arms and following every step you make.

“hope it’s okay i stayed,” he says to you as you put your water bottle down, a few spot patches on your face and bonnet on your head.

you make an unimpressed hmpf to show you heard him before climbing into bed and turning away from him.

the silent treatment from you is painful. especially when he remembers how just last night, you were tucked under his arm, begging him for a kiss with your leg thrown over his hips.

you both don’t say a word until the lights turn off and he notices how you don’t even say goodnight to your friends around you. though he can tell you’re not asleep yet.

“i’m talkin’ to you tomorrow. first thing. don’t give up on me yet.”

(for viewers watching at home, the subtitles are up!)

you’re slipping through his fingers like sand. you don’t say anything to him but you do turn around to look at him, finding him already staring back. you’re dying to kiss and make up, have him like you did before. but the anger, the humiliation from watching him on that date burns inside you.

you turn back away from him in silence. in about ten minutes, you feel the bed dip on the other side and you look just in time to see bakugou leaving to sleep on the day beds. that’s when the floodgates break and you’re left sobbing in the bed.

in the morning when the lights pop on, bakugou isn’t beside you and all memories of yesterday flood back to you. you’re on bad terms with him right now, actually horrible ones. you need to talk to him, sakura too probably. but you’re still mad.

he barely spoke about you. he said he can still talk to other people, that you can. great girl? and “enjoying it more than i thought with yn.” what the hell is that supposed to mean?

“katsuki didn’t sleep beside you?” momo from across the room asks you.

you shove your sunglasses on your face.

“nope.” you pop the p.

“ahhh you’re still mad at him. he didn’t do anything!” shinsou from across the room moans and all the girls have your back, snapping at him quicker than you can.

that’s when bakugou appears, pushing open the door rubbing at his eye. his attractiveness disgusts you. messy bed head, sleep lines across his chest. in his tight underwear as he stomps over to your shared bed.

as soon as he gets in, you slide out, making your way to the bathroom.

“i didn’t think she’d still be mad. i really fucked it.” bakugou grunts, forearm over his eyes.

“start grovelling, kats,” mina says, walking past his bed.

and bakugou does start.

brings you your morning matcha when you’re doing your hair at the girls makeup table.

“‘ts got hazelnut syrup in.” he says to you and still you don’t look him in the eyes.

“thanks.”

then when you’re strapped in your new bikini, ass cheeks out, flip flops on and a silk scarf around your head. bakugou corners you as soon as you step outside.

“hey,” he scratches the back of his head, struggling to make eye contact. it humours you slightly to see him stumble over you. “you look beautiful. i made you breakfast.”

you scan him. navy knee length shorts on and a cap. he hooks his sunglasses on his shorts, a trend he started and a few of the boys have copied.

“cool. where is it?”

bakugou blinks at you, amazed that you actually are about to follow him.

“oh, uh yeah, around here.”

you follow him around to sit on the stool. “looks nice.” you say quietly and bakugou smiles.

you’re like fine china, if he does anything wrong you might break.

just when you’re about to eat, bakugou sits beside you and rubs his hands, “so about yesterday—,”

“can we talk when i’m finished eating?”

bakugou straightens his back, “oh shit, sorry. yeah we can.”

you both slide into silence. you munching while bakugou crosses his arms and looks to the distance.

“are you just gonna sit there? have you eaten?”

“i ate when i was making yours,” he curses under his breath, looks over at you, “i shoulda fuckin’ waited so i could eat with you.”

that makes you laugh, his first laugh from you in what feels like eons.

“silly move, kats. now it’s awkward with you watching me.”

he smiles slightly, just a little, “fine, i’m lookin’ away. thinkin’ about what i wanna say to you. take your time.”

and he does. he turns away from you, looking off in the distance with his head in his palm.

he wants to say how he missed your morning kiss, your late night make out. he missed talking about the four hours he had away from you yesterday and he wants to hear about what you got up to… well minus watching his date with the new bombshell. he’s all sorts of in trouble. he’s never missed anyone so much and has only been away from them for four hours.

when you finish eating, bakugou follows behind you to sit on one of the sofas in the corner. the same sofas he told you to fuck off from yesterday. he gets a few thumbs up from the guys across the villa, warning glares from your friends too. he can’t fuck up here. there’s no way.

you plop down in your seat, flinging one leg over the other and adjusting your sunglasses on your face. your posture is impeccable, face beautiful with an impenetrable energy.

bakugou takes a shaky breath.

“go on. explain yourself.”

“could… could you explain why you’re mad so i can explain myself from there?”

you look at him over your sunglasses, “are you serious? no katsuki.”

he sharpens his back, nods rapidly, “okay, okay. well fuck. so i’m sorry. hated seeing you upset ‘cause of me. it’s never my aim.” bakugou shakes his hands before you.

“sakura chose me for the date and it was fine. we’d be good friends but i don’t want to get to know her. i like you a whole lot, more than i can understand in such a short amount of time.”

you tilt your head, not letting yourself believe everything just yet. he can’t win so easily with you.

“you said that you can get to know other people and that i can too.”

bakugou nods, “yeah i did. sometimes i’m too literal. sakura wanted to get to know me, i know now that me sayin’ that makes her think she’s got an option with me. i don’t wanna get to know anybody. fuck, if i had to see you on a date with a man… i’d rather choke myself out.”

you hum as if you’d like that option.

“but to be clear, i only want you. since we have no labels, you can get to know anyone walkin’ through the door but i’d hate it.”

you look at your nails. he’s not doing bad. not bad at all.

“the comment about it’s better than you thought with me. did you think we wouldn’t last? you thought i’d be stupid? boring?” you push.

he shakes his head, “hah? i didn’t mean that like that. i meant being in the villa. thought i’d hate being bored and not workin’ and being away from my life. you’ve made this experience better than i could’ve imagined.”

he sniffs, looks around the villa, “i know i’ve already said but i like you so fuckin’ much. i can already see you in my life outside of here.”

you roll your lips in, brushing your top lip over your septum.

“i didn’t like how you shouted at me yesterday.”

bakugou bows his head, “shit, ‘m sorry about that. just high emotions and all but it’s not an excuse. ‘m sorry, won’t happen again.”

you look to sakura across the villa chatting to kirishima. “does sakura know you don’t want to get to know her romantically?”

he sniffs, “i don’t think i told her word for word. i can make it clearer with her.”

“i think you should.”

“i will.”

then it’s quiet between you both. bakugou’s fingers dying to feel your skin. a cuddle, a kiss, to run his fingers along your thighs.

you feel the pull too. instead of looking at everyone else, you’re being drawn back to him. his navy shorts, his bare sweaty chest. his pretty face looking at yours.

“are we good now?” he asks, hands flat on the sofa right next to you, “i hate this. i miss you so goddamn much.”

you look at his lips. you miss him too.

“we’re good kats,” kats is a good sign, “i wanna see you on your best behaviour.”

“can i get a kiss? please?”

you look at his pleading face, how he wouldn’t be caught dead saying this back home, before he met you. bakugou towers over you, body hovering and the temperature feels as if it’s doubled.

“a peck.”

“fuck it, i’ll take it.”

bakugou ducks his face to yours, presses his lips to your softer ones. it lasts as long as he can make it, sighing on the spot when you pull away and stand up.

“argh, fuck. baby.” he clenches his fingers in need.

it only makes you want to laugh.

“i need to talk to the girls, you need to talk to the guys. i’ll see you later.”

he doesn’t wanna talk to them. he wants to talk to you.

“no, stay with me here.”

“see you later katsuki.”

“keep goin’ just like that babydoll—fuck!” he curses, voice gravely with an intensity that makes you clench, his cock stirring deep in your squishy walls.

his hand falls down to the fat of your hip, gripping and prodding the flesh like his own custom stress ball, an occasional soft slap landing on your ass cheek just so he can watch you gasp, kissing the sounds clean of your mouth.

unfortunately for you, it’s so damn laborious to keep up with the pace you unintentionally set, the pro hero’s stamina easily allowing him to go all night deep inside of you. a refractory period practically non-existent with a refusal to give up anytime soon, the strong man barely breaks a sweat as he enjoys the ride, his hand effortlesssly guiding you to rock back and forth.

your exhausted, inner thighs burning, back aching. kirishima can tell, your feverish movements halting for a gentle roll of your hips, sticky cunt gliding against the dark patch of hair against his pelvis, body lacking stimulation.

“eiji! i can’t! need your help,” you beg, cute fucked-out face warbling down at him in a pitiful plea, hips fully coming to a halt.

“ahh of course you do,” clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he grunts low, testing the waters with a big fat ‘slaaap’ of his hips, your body almost bouncing off his muscular thighs.

“eiji—oh fuck!” squeaking at the feeling of his candy-red cockhead swabbing past your g-spot and ‘round your tough cervix, you grow breathless—unable to do anything besides sit there and take it.

you gasp at the feeling each time he plops you down, his strong body easily holding you up as if you're a featherweight, throbbing inches smooching your gummy spot so perfectly you’re beginning to see a multi-colored array of pinpoint stars and patterns.

“you like that? like makin’ me do all the work?” he laughs at your cockdrunken state, blown out vermillion eyes raking up and down your soft frame, watching your tits bounce with every snap of his thighs.

“f-feels so much b-better when you do it,” your toes are beginning to curl, the metaphorical rubber band ready to snap in your core, a white-hot heat flashing through your veins.

“love it when i use you, is that it?” he’s teasing you now, a calloused thumb fumbling with the soft velvet between your sensitive folds, rubbing small circles to your sensitive clit, the motions making you hiccup. “should’a just asked me—fuckkk! could have gave ya what you wanted wayyy earlier babydoll.”

“mpfph! yes— b-but—”

“—but what baby? cock got ya dumb?”

it’s pitiful, the way he’s so easily able to turn you into a puddle of lust in his hands, your body at his disposal to fuck into, knowing each time he will give you what you want as long as you tell him exactly what it is.

“use your words ‘n tell me how you’re feelin’.”

nodding, you answer him, lips quivering as you try your best to form a coherent sentence, the words sounding almost silent from the sounds of soaked flesh smacking. “‘s too much!”

he places a sloppy kiss to your open mouth, tongue trailing down to bite the bare flesh of your neck, his ivory shark teeth piercing the skin. “said you needed my help didn’t ya? now you’re stuck takin’ whatever i’m givin’ you sweetpea.”

sucking him as if it’s your last meal on earth, your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the taste, cheeks hallowing to suck ‘n swallow down his length, letting it swell in the flesh of your cheeks.

“fuck, y-you’re so good t’me baby,” he’s throwing his head back, hand gently coming up to cup the side of your blown out cheek, mouth mumbling, “what’i do to deserve this?”

you come off his cock with a ‘pop!’ hand slowly jerking off the length of his dick, palm swirling around the girth. “nothin’,” you mumble, voice hoarse. your tongue sticks out over your lower lip to trace at the underside of his tip, moaning at the way his skin practically melts into your tastebuds, “just wanted to taste you, eiji.”

his hips buck off the bed at that, rock hard abs stuttering at the gentleness you’re smothering him with. “s-shittt! can’t say things like that unless you want this t’be over quick!”

“that’s okay,” you mumble, tongue kitten licking the pearly beads of salty precum continuously painting the head of his mushroom cock, wide eyes gazing up at him through batted lashes, “but i was hoping to stay here all night though.”

cutting the conversation short with a devious motion, your jaw slacks fully to suck his cock back down your throat. you get him halfway down and swallow, eyes prickling with tears when he’s hitting the back of your throat, head pulsating in your warm canal.

you were pulling out all the stops today. purposefully wearing non-waterproof mascara and sticky lipgloss for the special occasion, you even practiced pressing your thumb into your palm ‘n squeezing it real tight in hopes to prevent yourself from gagging on his thick cock, wanting to give him a show.

unfortunately for you, you underestimated just how big your boyfriend was. eight massive inches of throbbing cock cramming your throat wide open, the hinges of your jaw practically screaming for relief as you force him down inside. thankfully, your lips take him half way, head rising up to swirl around his spongey cockhead, mouth filling with spit each time your head glides back down the length, the noises squelching in the air.

kirishima groans, hips unable to hold back thrusting into your throat, “ahh shit—there you go baby doll, takin’ m-me so well.”

drool begins to gather past your sore cheeks, the fat globs of spittle easily spreading over his shaft. with a deep breath you take him as far as you can go, the pulsating head halting at the hitch in the roof of your mouth.

your hand finds his gently grazing the side of your face, moving it to rest the back of your head. you press his fingers into your scalp, pushing yourself down, down, down! until your nose tickles the dark patch of hair on the base of his cock, your way of silently allowing him to have his own way with you, the pace quickening.

“breathe through that nose sweetpea, look so pretty c-chokin’ on my cock.” he’s grumbling, words drowning in saccharine honeysuckle, feeling his grunts and moans rumbling in your ears.

you listen to his advice, taking a shaky inhale to alleviate the pressure from his cock fucking your mouth silly, your uneven breathing shaking through you, eyes prickling with salty tears.

you can tell he’s close by the way his breathing picks up, thick meaty thighs clenching every time you gag around him.

“touch y-yourself for me, baby.” kirishima begs, eyes prying open to get a glimpse of your frame beneath him, “gotta get her all wet ‘n r-ready f’me.”

it’s easy to listen when he begs so nicely. shaky fingertips begin traveling down your navel to prod at your sticky pussy through your soaked panties, fingertips easily dipping past your slippery entrance.

“mmm,” your gagging, slick covered digits swiping over your clit, circling wild figure eights to the gooey flesh.

you’re instantly relieved, hips thumping against your fingers like a bunny whilst kirishima fucks his cock into your mouth, the pleasure undeniably building in your core as he uses you to get off.

it feels a little dirty letting him abuse your mouth and throat in such a compromising position, yet the look on his face is enough for you to keep going, your free hand drifting down to fumble with his heavy balls.

kirishima looses his mind. the hand gripping your head now uses it to his full advantage, pushing and pulling you up and down his length, your gags only pushing him further past the edge.

“gonna c-cum down that—fuck! that t-tight lil’ throat! a-are you gonna let m-me?” he’s asking, lips swollen and shaded a deep maroon hue from just how much he’s been gnawing at them.

you respond with a moan, cunt tightening around nothing as you feverishly prod at your clit. your core almost hurts, wanting to cum and pleasure kirishima at the same time confusing your hand motions, forgoing your own movements as he fully fucks into you now, your clit going neglected and unappreciated.

“ah—fuck, fuck, fuckkkk!” kirishima grunts, hips suddenly stopping as he pulls you back, leaving your breathless mouth wrapped justtt around his tip.

instantly met with sticky pearlescent ropes of cum that rapidly begin to pump on your tongue, you suck him dry, letting the salty liquid drip down the back of your sore throat. you swallow every last drop, lips pursing to lap up any leftover seed that leaks from his sensitive slit.

swollen lips finally pull of off him, chest panting as you lean backwards into your aching legs, knees surely bruising at the uncomfortable angle on the floorboards.

“god you’re amazing, come here sweetpea,” kirishima shakily orders, strong arms holding your wobbily body up to the side of him, placing a fat sloppy kiss to your lips, moaning when he tastes himself on your tongue. “you still need to cum, ‘s that right?”

The air around him has always rivaled the kind of humidity that suffocates your skin on the hottest Indiana summer day. A palpable energy that's buzzed around the two of you since Robin introduced you at one of Rick’s parties a few months ago. It’s the kind of chemistry that’s recently become very hard to ignore as introductions turned into third wheeling late night shifts at the squawk, and regular invitations to movie nights at their shared apartment. The biggest culprit of them all though? Steve’s incessant need to always drive you home. It doesn’t matter to him how late it is, or out of his way it is, even if it’s a blizzard or a torrential downpour — walking or catching the bus is never an option. Not if he has anything to do with it.

The quiet conversations that happen inside his BMW are always easy, even a little bit flirty when Robin isn’t around. On those nights, he makes it a point to rest his hand on the stick shift so close to your thighs they search for each other, squirming in his leather seat. Those are the ones that always end with him parked in front of your place for hours. Both of you losing track of time talking about anything and everything while learning those little things about each other that turn into something bigger over time. Unfortunately for you, that time feels a lot like now, and the silent promise to never act on whatever this is starting to feel nearly impossible to keep.

Steve’s eyes flit towards you for no particular reason, catching you staring, sparking something inside of them that warms deep in your belly. Something unmistakably dangerous.

Forcing yourself to look away, embarrassment blooms on your cheeks as you clear your throat with a shake of your head. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to find their way back to him because it’s all they seem to want to do these days. With one side of his mouth tugged up, his full attention is on you now while his fingers don’t stop their mission to finish the puzzle he’s solved a million times before. Something about that has you biting the fat of your bottom lip, shifting in your seat perched on the side of his desk.

The whites of his teeth shine in a playful flirty grin as he rocks back in his chair, spreading his legs wider, earning that roll of your eyes he was looking for. Fast clicks of the rubix cube catch louder in your ears as all of the colors line up perfectly in his hands, and that grin on his stupidly handsome face turns into a proud beam like its the first time he’s accomplished this feat.

”Still got it!” He winks, tossing the toy up casually before catching it.

”Were you even listening to me, Dingus?” Robin hisses, smacking the cube out of his hand and you try not to giggle at the dejected look on his face that quickly turns into its factory setting of annoyance.

”Yeah, I was listening to the story you’ve told me three times today.” He snaps, leaning over to grab the toy off the ground, almost falling when the chair threatens to go off kilter. “Maybe, just maybe there’s a reason Vickie keeps getting mad.”

You’ve watched them have this conversation at least once a week for the past month where Steve tiptoes around getting Robin to admit her inconvenient crush on Nancy Wheeler.

“Hey! Who’s side are you on here?” She snaps, with a glare that wrinkles the top of her forehead.

Steve opens his mouth to reply but she quickly cuts him off before he even has a chance.

“You know what, no. No! I can’t be here, I need to go.” Robin deflects like she always does, grabbing her messenger bag she storms out of the soundproof room, and right out of the station’s double doors. Leaving you and Steve alone.

He scoffs, staring out the glass after her, a silent argument with himself on whether he should follow or not evident on his face. He runs a hand through his hair with a bouncing knee, taking a deep breath through his nose before bringing his gaze back to you, that rogue strand flopping back across his forehead.

“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.” He groans defeated with eyes that plead for some kind of reassurance. “Should I go find her?”

“I think she just needs a minute.” You reply softly, legs dangling. “If she does have feelings for someone else, that’s gotta be overwhelming. She’s new at this, ya know?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, jaw ticking taking one last look outside before you see him visibly let it go with a sag of his shoulders.

”Always am.” You tease with a smile, doing your best to lighten the mood.

His eyes shift back to you, that dangerous thing from before returning ten fold twinkling in the gold specs inside of them. Suddenly the realization that the two of you are alone consumes the entire room, air turning thick with something that feels inevitable, that small little joke of yours working too well.

“Now don’t get crazy.” He scoffs, using his long legs to roll his chair towards you.

Something swoops in your belly, fingers curling around the wooden edge of the desk while you try to keep your composure, watching his Nike’s close the space.

“Name one time I’ve been wrong.”

Your challenge comes with a tilt of your chin, and an arch of your brow. The smirk you get in return has your teeth digging into your bottom lip, thighs closing the small gap between them. It still isn’t enough to stop the warmth between them from spreading, especially when he stops right in front of you. His face aligns with your knees from his seat, sending your body humming with his proximity to the place that’s wanted more of him for months now.

”How about when you said Beetlejuice was a good movie?” He snorts, meeting your gaze from under his lashes, something baiting inside of it.

”Are you kidding me? It’s an incredible movie! Tim Bur—“

”It was weird.” He cuts off with an irritated face, like just the memory of it is enough to annoy him.

”You’re weird.” You retort immediately, glaring with a scrunch of your nose.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, before his narrowed gaze trails slowly down the length of your body. It lingers on your exposed thighs that he’s started to see a little more frequently thanks to warm spring days, and he’s never been more thankful to Mother Nature or your sun dresses. You swallow hard seeing him lick his lips, heart skipping a beat at the glazed over look in his eyes that makes your chest ache.

You have to leave.

”I — uh, I should go.” You stammer, starting to wiggle off the desk but Steve doesn’t let you get very far.

”Wait! Don’t — “ Standing up, the rest of that sentence fades as his hands find your knees, electric currents running through his finger tips that spread them apart so he can fit his hips between your thighs. His eyes hold you inside of them, hooded and begging before finishing it in a whisper. “Don’t leave.”

The two of you sit there unmoving, mouths so close it feels like you’re breathing each other in. His hands inch up your bare thighs, goosebumps pebbling along hot skin as his fingertips brush the bottom hem of your dress.

”Steve.” You manage to murmur, somehow finding your voice. “It’s a bad idea and you know it.”

The protest sounds weak leaving your mouth, especially when the backs of your heels hook and pull him closer. Your hands grip harder at the edge of the desk, needing something to anchor you while the tip of his nose runs up the bridge of yours. The spice of his cologne wraps around you, and the hint of cinnamon mixed with the amber is new.

“What’s so bad about it? Give me one reason.” He mocks your previous challenge with a flash of his teeth, grabbing at the soft fat under his palms.

”Robin.”

“Well she doesn’t have to know.” He snorts like it’s obvious, wandering hands sliding up higher.

”Okay, then what happens if this blows up in our face and we end up hating each other?” Your argument would feel more valid if you weren’t straightening your spine, getting so close to him that your chests touch.

”You really think you can hate me?” He fake pouts with a furrow of his brows, that infamous swoop of hair tickling your forehead.

”Steve! I’m being serious.” You whine a little defeated because you know you’re about to give in, and because all you want is for him to just kiss you already.

You think he knows that too.

He exhales a breath through his nose, one hand finally becoming bold enough to slip under your dress to wrap around your hip, while the other cups the apple your cheek. The pad of his thumb tilts your chin up to keep your gaze on him, lips so close that they almost touch.

”And what if it doesn’t blow up in our face?” He challenges, letting his top lip graze your bottom. “What happens if we end up really liking each other? What then?”

Your lashes flutter, feeling his warm breath kiss your skin, butterflies rioting inside the crevices of your ribcage. Your fingers let go of their death grip on the edge of the desk, and spread over his stomach. He inhales sharply at the contact, his grip on your hip tightening as your palms work their way up his chest before sliding along his neck and into the thickness of his hair at the nape of it. Steve tugs you closer as your legs wrap around his waist, the tip of your nose nudging his warmed cheek.

”Because I don’t know if you can’t tell or something but I already really like you.” He confesses hot against your mouth with the softest brush of his lips. “I have for a while. And you know what I think?”

”Hmm?” You manage with lust clouding your vision and fingers curling into his roots.

”I think you like me too.”

You don’t bother giving the answer he already knows, instead you close what little distance is left. It takes Steve a moment to realize what you’re doing, that this is actually happening but when he does, he takes control of the kiss immediately. His lips feel hungry moving against yours, devouring you like it’s been a craving, claiming your mouth like it’s already his.

A deep groan rumbles from his chest at the feel of your tongue swiping along his bottom lip. The blunt ends of his nails dig into the soft skin of your hip when he opens up for you and they finally meet. They massage each other moving languid and slow, relishing in the feeling. Back bending, your fingers curl deeper in his roots, somehow needing more.

As if he can read your mind, the pad of his thumb tugs at the corner of your mouth, opening you up more. He explores every inch of you like he’s trying to memorize it, swallowing all the sounds that are somehow better than his imagination. Your hips rock against him, the thin cotton of your panties leaving hardly any barrier. A breathy gasp escapes the back of your throat feeling just how big he really is.

Steve takes this moment to catch his breath, pulling away with a heaving chest. He presses his forehead against yours, eyes taking in your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.

“You know how many times I’ve thought about this?” He sighs, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheek. That permanent teasing edge to his voice is absent for the first time tonight.

His confession erupts across your body that bends for him, silently asking for more all on its own. Holding his gaze in the depths of yours, the pointed roll of your hips is slow enough to feel the entire length of him pressed against his zipper. It twitches underneath the metal, the pressure against your clit only covered by a thin pair of cotton earning him a quiet whimper.

”I think about you all the time, Steve.” You say in a low voice, looking at him from under the thick hood of your lashes, rolling your hips again.

“Honey.” He hisses through his teeth, his grip on you tightening hard enough to hold you still. A shiver ripples through him as he desperately tries to find his self control. “We should stop —“

Your hands untangle from his hair, sliding down his jaw that you hold in your palms. The pad of your thumb traces the curve of his full bottom lip that you want nothing more than to feel between your teeth. He inhales another sharp breath watching the way your eyes darken, his thick lashes fluttering kissing the tops of his cheeks like he can read your mind.

”What if I don’t want to stop?”

All you’ve ever done with Steve is hold yourself back. And now that you’ve had him, you don’t want to do it anymore. You can’t do it anymore.

”I’m tired of not getting what I want.” You reaffirm, tilting your head to meet his eyes, brushing your lips against his kiss bitten ones before whispering, “aren’t you?”

He holds your gaze down the slope of his nose, the hand on your hip moving to wrap around the small of your back pulling you close, while the other trails down to cup the side of your neck. The pad of his thumb rests at the hinge of your jaw, a flurry of emotions swirling inside his stare as he takes everything in, making sure he’s not misreading any signs. It’s not until he feels the quiet way you say his name against his lips that he comes back to his body, snapping out of his nervous lapse in judgement of what’s happening.

”You have no fucking idea.” Steve growls, finally capturing your mouth without anything holding him back anymore.

This kiss is different from the last one, his lips move against yours with something possessive behind them — greedy. Your tongues don’t wait for permission, tangling together with an intensity that has your teeth scraping together. Completely lost in months of late nights and lingering stares, his hand slides down your neck, and across your shoulders bringing your dress strap with it. He finishes his path joining his other hand under your dress, both of them meeting and curling around the apple of your ass. Squeezing harshly, he pulls you closer with a hard slam on the wood of the desk.

Moaning into his mouth, you tug at the collar of his sweater, silently urging him to take it off. He catches on quickly, but struggles to break himself free, obsessed with the taste of you — the feel of you in his hands. It’s the whine that peels itself from the back of your throat and the way you push yourself closer searching for friction that he finally pulls himself away with a suck of your bottom lip. Letting it go with a loud pop, the pout on your face turns his lovesick grin cocky as he plucks the collar of his sweater from the back and tosses it to the side of the studio in one fell swoop.

Your lids grow heavy, eyes glazing over at the thick smattering of hair on his chest. Throat drying up at the sight of his permanently sun kissed skin dotted with mini constellations of freckles and moles that your fingers itch to trace. He runs a hand through his hair, drinking in the sight of you too. The wild look on your face with your dress rucked up around your hips, legs spread revealing the wet patch in the middle of your panties that he’s the culprit of. Both straps dangle loosely off your shoulders, leaving just the red ones of your bra, the swell of your breasts teasing him.

“Jesus, I knew you were gonna ruin me.” He mutters to himself in disbelief, slowly walking back to his place between your legs.

His hands trail up your thighs, squeezing at the soft dough under your dress appreciatively with lick of his lips, before curling his fingers around the elastic. It’s the only thing left keeping him from a part of you he’s thought about more times than he’d ever admit.

“Tell me what you want.” He breathes against your lips, brows furrowed with need.

Your fingers find their way to his belt, expertly undoing the gold buckle before popping open the button and tugging down the zipper of his jeans. He hisses at the release as you lift your head, capturing his mouth in something so sure there’s no room left to argue, pulling away just enough to whisper.

”You.”

That’s all Steve needs, yanking your panties down in one swift motion, capturing your lips as he does the same with the straps of your dress. It pools around your lap, just like his jeans do at his feet. Kicking them off along with his shoes, he grabs one of your legs hitching it over his waist, pointedly running his hard covered length along your wet seam. You both moan into each other's mouths at the contact, your fingers tangling in his hair, anchoring yourself to him as he licks into you, rolling his hips again.The way your slick instantly wets the fabric of his briefs makes it feel like he’s teasing himself too.

”I don’t — I don’t have a condom.” He murmurs, using all of his strength to pull away with panic set in his eyes like maybe he’s ruined this whole thing.

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you let one of your hands slide down his chest, greedily scratching your nails along the dark hair there, before following it down his happy trail. The muscles in his stomach twitch, along with his cock that only grows bigger when you cup it, and the feeling of just how thick he is has you squirming at the thought of making it fit.

“I’m on birth control.” You admit quietly, your fingers dipping into the waist band of his underwear, the tips of them running along his pelvic bone.

”Jesus Christ.” Steve’s eyes pinch closed, the grip on your leg tightening to something almost bruising.

”Is that okay? Do you want to —“

“Yes, yes, god yes, that's okay.” He interrupts with an enthusiastic nod of his head.

Bend bending down, he claims your lips again as your greedy hands push his boxers past his hips. Your touch is tentative wrapping around the weight of him, but the moan you get in return is loud enough to echo off the glass encasing you, encouraging you forward. The first pump has him shuddering underneath your palm, a big hand grabbing your chin, using it to tilt your head to the side. He takes your slow torture out on the base of your throat in the form of open mouthed kisses, dragging his teeth along your pulse point that jumps for him.

“Steve you’re so - you’re so -“

He flattens his tongue, licking a path that has your eyes roll back, killing off the rest of that sentence by latching onto that sensitive spot behind your ear and sucking hard. It’s replaced by a breathy whine that comes out at the same time the pad of your thumb swipes against his leaking tip. He grunts into your neck, hips bucking into your touch.

“I know baby, I know.” He murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe before enveloping it into the heat of his mouth, letting it go with a loud pop. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

The endearment has your legs spread wider in a silent plea to keep his word. He smiles wide against your skin, sneaking his hand between you to replace yours that go back to their new home in the hair at the nape of his neck. You decide it’s your favorite place. He pulls away enough for your noses to bump, blown out wild looking eyes meeting yours before they drop down to a view he’s only ever imagined. His mind didn’t even come close to doing it justice.

”Fuuuuck.” He groans to himself, face twisting into something tortured, swiping himself through your glistening folds with another shudder ripping through his spine. “You’re so wet, honey.”

Steve says the last part almost like he can’t believe it, like there’s no world where you’d want him just as bad as he wants you. But when he does it again and you mewl in a way that sounds just as desperate, he knows it's true.

“You’re not the only one who’s wanted this for a long time.” You confess a little shy despite your current position, softening his features with the kind of smile that feels a lot like he’s already smitten.

The pad of his thumb on the hand still wrapped around your hitched leg traces circles on the goose pebbled skin underneath it.

“Yeah?” He sighs, eyes turning heavy bringing himself close enough to fit at your entrance. “Let’s make up for lost time then.”

Your fingers weave tighter in his hair, forehead pressing to his with a slack jaw at the first stretch of your walls. It feels like he’s everywhere, filling you so much as if he has nowhere else to go even though he’s only half way in.

”Oh my god, Steve, you feel — holy shit.” You pant, pulling at his roots so hard you know it hurts as he pushes himself to the hilt with one final stroke.

”You’re doing so good though, look at you.” His praise comes out against your lips, the tip of his nose nudging against your cheek. He feels the way his words tighten around him, a new wave of arousal coating every ridge and dip.

Steve gives you a minute to adjust to the size, only starting to move when you lean forward to steal a messy kiss. Desperation evident in the encouraging swipe of your tongue. He starts off slow, rolling his hips in languid strokes that match the way he licks into your mouth basking in the little noises escaping from the back of your throat. It’s not until you nip at his bottom lip that he lets go the way he really wants too.

Breaking away from your lips, he brings his attention to your face, needing to see the way it twists up when he pulls nearly all the way out before slamming himself back in. Your eyes go wide at the feeling, the silk of your walls fluttering, begging him for more that he gives without any hesitation. His palm finds it way back to your cheek that has to be searing against his skin, collecting your mouth again with a hunger that’s easy to lose yourself in.

He keeps a steady pace, hiking your leg further up his hip, somehow going even deeper. The tip of him hits the spot that no one else has ever been able to find, earning a loud moan of his name that he thinks sounds best when it comes from you. Using the opportunity that presents itself to him, he starts a path of open mouth kisses down your jaw, along your neck, gently pushing you back to lay against the desk, peppering them across your collar bone.

The new angle has you trying to cover the scream that's begging to fill the empty studio, and Steve keeps going. Tugging down your bra, sucks your pert nipple into the heat of his mouth. Your back arches, nails dinging into his shoulders when he brings his attention to the other one with a flick of his tongue.

“Perfect, you’re perfect.” Groaning his praise against your skin, he licks a stripe up your sternum before nipping at the curve of your breast.

Steve stands up straight, bringing his hands to your hips stretching you out even more. His eyes take in your heaving chest, dark eyes, and skin shining wet from the work of his mouth and he thinks he might cum right now.

”You ready for more, pretty girl?” He coos with the softest grind of hips, lips twitching at the way your eyes hit the back of your head because of it.

”Please.” You beg, finding the strength to look at him from underneath your lashes.

Your stare breaks any self control he might have left, the first snap of his hips pushing you further up the desk, sending some of the eight tracks clattering to the ground.

“Oh my god.” You cry out, grabbing onto his forearms. The blunt ends of your nails digging into his freckles when he does it again.

”You feel so fucking good.” He grits out between his teeth, the grip on your curves turning bruising as his head rolls back lost in the silk of your walls that keep sucking him in every time he tries to leave.

His praise makes your hips meet the next roll of his, sending another flurry of cuss words spilling out of his mouth, that turn into your name the more you keep up with his pace. Tugging you back to the edge of the desk, he folds over you, palms finding purchase on either side of your head.

That swoop of hair tickles damp against your forehead, his face contouring into something dazed watching the way you try to catch your breath. The quick grind of his hips punches the air out of your lungs with every thrust, the thick thatch of hair at the base of your demise rubbing against your clit with just the right of pressure.

You know you're not going to last much longer as the heels of your feet dig into his ass pushing him deeper. He grunts into your mouth, collecting a sloppy kiss rolling his hips in a circle, the tip of him pushing right against the spot you need him most.

“Come on, honey, let go. I know you want to. Let me finally make you feel good.” He murmurs encouragingly, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them above your head, sending a notebook and some pens flying to the ground.

The new position tightens the coil deep inside your gut tight enough to snap, your walls constricting around him as you tumble over the edge with nothing but his name spilling from your lips. Seeing something he’s only ever daydreamed about in the dead of night sends him flying right after you. He lets go of your hands catching himself on the desk, body shaking with a loud groan rumbling from his chest painting your insides with months of wanting you so much that it aches in his chest.

He keeps up the slow grind of his hips until you both come back down, with goofy love sick smiles twisting up your lips. You giggle when he nudges his nose with yours, getting a blinding flash of his white teeth in return.

“What?” Amusement dances in his eyes, brushing the apple of your cheek with the back of his hand.

”This just isn’t where I imagined it would finally happen is all.” You grin, leaning into his touch. “So out in the open.”

”It’s not like anyone’s here —“

”Steve, look, I’m sorry.” The sound of Robin’s voice echoes out through the empty station.

”Oh fuck me.” He yells in a whisper, wide panicked eyes meeting yours before dropping to the ground out of sight. You try your best to adjust your bra and dress into place.

“You know I hate when we figh— oh.” Robin stops in her tracks in the common room, confusion painting her features taking in your disheveled look and the lack of Steve in the room.

“H-hey!” You squeak out, voice cracking and she narrows her gaze at it.

”Where’s Steve?” She asks, the question coming out slowly in that suspicious kind of way.

”Uh - he uh - he went to the bathroom.” You offer, scratching the back of your neck while the man in question scrambles to get his clothes back on at your feet.

Tilting her head to the side, she squints at you clearly not believing a word coming out of your mouth. Realization dawns on her features, annoyance replacing any confusion that was left.

”You have got to be kidding me!” She throws up her hands, “Steve I know you’re there. You guys suck at lying.”

”Shit.” Steve mutters, pulling on his shirt before slowly standing up, buckling his belt with a sheepish smile.

”Hey.” He waves, running a hand through his damp hair.

The ringtone screeched through the room from its resting place beside his bed as Bakugo’s head snaps up at the sound. His eyes blink around as to gain consciousness, the AC on blast brushing against his bare upper body. The call ends before he can even turn towards the phone, but starts ringing again immediately. No, this was too out of character for you.

He reaches for the phone, catching a quick glance at the clock on it displaying a crisp 3:16 a.m. “Hello?” His voice, still rough from sleep rumbles through the microphone into your phone speaker, and he can hear a sigh of relief from you. “What’s wrong?” He prompts again. You can hear the rustling of him sitting up, turning on his bedside lamp.

“Kats…” You tried to calm your voice as much as possible but it still comes out shaky, instantly putting him on high alert. “Um…” You try to continue but you feel the tears starting to build up again, the lump in your throat growing. “Could you…Could you come and get me?” You manage to get out, voice breaking as the tears start to escape.

Katsuki is moving even before you finish your sentence, “Where are you?” He asks as he puts the phone on speaker, pulling on a plain black t-shirt and jeans in record time. “Uh…” You look around you, shivering from both emotion and the cold of the night. “Just down from the convenience store near my place. I can…I can wait for you there.” The store itself was closed but they left the chairs out overnight.

“Do you want me to stay on call?” His voice is gentler than you normally hear, careful almost, caring even. You shake your head before answering a soft ‘no’, teeth clattering from the cold. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes, stay right there okay?” You hum in agreement before you hang up.

Turning into the street where he’s supposed to meet you, Katsuki’s heart is hammering out of his chest. Not only is it not like you to call him this late in the night, it’s also unlike you to cry. You were a tough woman, toughest person he ever knew, more than himself even. You were kind and a nice person but never one to show weakness, he’s only ever seen you cry once before, when he died and his subsequent hospital stay. Hearing you break down over the fall broke something in him, not a single red light was obeyed on his way to you.

He almost feels his heart physically hurt when he sees you on a chair in front of the store, flickering neon lights casting odd shadows over your face as you look up to the sky, eyes red, knees pulled up to your chest and arms hugging yourself. You barely notice his car pulling up onto the opposite side, only looking towards him when he finally get out of the car, leaning down to grab the jacket he threw in for you.

By the time he straightens up, you’re already walking towards the car, standing right on the edge of the curb as he crosses the road. Without a word, first thing Katsuki does is wrap the jacket around you, it’s the one you love, your favourite one that he’s had since UA. You blink almost sluggishly as he checks you for any external injuries, almost as tall as him due to the few extra inches of the curb.

“What happened?” The fact that you’re in your sleepwear concerns him instantly, almost like you just ran out of your own apartment in the dead of the night. He helps you slip your hands into the sleeves and watch you pull the jacket roughly around yourself. One of his hand instinctively moves to brush the hair away from your face as the other subconsciously rests on your waist, something he usually doesn’t do.

You take a moment to feel the warm seep into your bones, the jacket smelling exactly like Bakugo, bringing you some peace immediately. His hand cups your cheek, you nuzzle into it as he wipes a stray tear away with his thumb. You shake your head slightly, “I just want to go.” You mumble out barely.

“Then we’ll go.” Katsuki whispers back, stepping back to let you step off the curb, turning to walk behind you as you head towards his car, pulling the passenger side open to let you slide in comfortable. Once the door closes, he jogs to the driver’s side, putting the car in drive immediately after he gets in.

Katsuki drives around aimlessly as he lets the silence simmer, knowing you’ll tell him or talk to him if and when you want to. If all you wanted was his presence, then he’ll gladly give it to you.

“I don’t know why I ever dated that idiot.”

Ah, of course. That motherfucker.

It’s about 20 minutes before you say anything. Bakugo had derived that this was probably about that shithead boyfriend of yours. You miss the way Bakugo’s fingers tighten over the steering wheel. He doesn’t know why you dated that moron either. You’d started dating him shortly after graduating UA, some guy you had a ‘meet-cute’ with, whatever that was, at a library. Now had been on-and-off with him for years. Off, recently.

“What did he do?”

Katsuki knows he physically couldn’t have done anything to you, you were a Pro Hero ranked higher than Dynamite for goodness sake but that fucker played with your feelings like a fiddle and for some reason you keep letting him. You pull the jacket around yourself tighter, as if that’d help you pull yourself together mentally.

“I was already in a panic, woke up from a nightmare and—and i didn’t change the locks since we broke up and he still had a key—” You begin rambling, recounting the event of the night to your best friend. How your ex barged in, starting yelling at you when you were already overwhelmed, how you ran out and the only thing you could think of was to call Katsuki.

Bakugo glances at you, your eyes still following the moon outside the window. This all is partially his fault, completely actually. Of all the years and traumas at UA, there’s one thing you get nightmares about consistently, the final fight and Bakugo dying. You’re also with running around with your toxic ex because of him.

The two of you had kissed once.

It was late one night, after they finally sent him back home but still kept him on bed rest after the final battle, you’d stayed over, letting his mother go to sleep as you kept guard in case Katsuki needed help. He couldn’t fall asleep so you ended up crawling into bed with him, cuddling into him where he felt your heartbeat, felt you alive next to him.

You kept trying to make him laugh, distract him from the pain. When he finally chuckled, you smiled so brightly, like you’d just won something incredible that he couldn’t help but lean in, press his lips to yours, feel you melt into him, and him into you. He remembers falling asleep in each other’s arms, probably the most vulnerable he’s ever been.

But then he did what he always did. Destroy it.

Katsuki panicked the next day, he doesn’t even remember his thought process but he told you it meant nothing, just a heat of the moment thing, that he didn’t have any feelings for you outside of the platonic kind. He remembers the way you tried to maintain the facade of calm but he could tell you were falling apart, co trolling your facial features to not start crying right then and there.

He could’ve told you sooner. Oh, how stupid he’d been. He should’ve admitted that he lied, and that he was wrong, that he couldn’t live without you or rather that he doesn’t want to. But you put up a wall, rightfully so, held him at an arm’s length since then, jumping straight into a relationship with that guy.

Bakugo silently shifts the car into automatic, freeing up his hand to reach for yours, interlocking your fingers with his in silent comfort as your fingers tighten around his.

By the time Katsuki pulls into his driveway, you’re fast asleep next to him, drifted off with your hand in his and his jacket around you. As quietly as possible, Katsuki picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other around your shoulders in a princess carry.

He carries you to his bed, the one that he changed after you made one off hand comment about it being too firm for your liking. Gently placing you on the soft mattress and pulling up the covers, leaving the jacket on you because he knew you preferred it that way.

Katsuki can’t help himself as he lingers a moment, scarred hand reaching out to swipe the sweaty bakr strands sticking to your forehead. A deep sigh shakes his chest, thoughts of what could’ve been if he was braver, which is an odd thought because he couldn’t think of anyone braver than him.

“Good night, beautiful.” He whispers into the starry night sky, words falling on asleep ears.

cut me some slack if this is bad i’m trying 😭😭

You think you’re gonna die too. Because there’s heat pooling between your legs, and you're pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties, and this was supposed to be your first normal date. Not a panty-ruining, thigh-clenching disaster where you keep imagining his stupid hot fingers pulling your hoodie up and touching you like you're not both trembling virgins about to combust from one misplaced touch.

Satoru’s voice cracks in the dark.

“You, uh— are you okay?”

You look at him, wide-eyed. “What? Yeah. I’m fine.”

He fidgets. “You’re breathing kinda fast.”

You are. Shit.

“I’m just…” you squirm, thighs pressed tight together. “The seats are uncomfortable.”

He makes a strangled little laugh, eyes darting to the screen and then back to your mouth. You don’t know who moves first, but a second later, your hands are brushing in the popcorn bag and boom— your bodies are pressed together like magnets.

The movie is completely forgotten. You’re both leaning toward each other, breathing the same hot air, and it’s dizzying how close he is. His scent is soft and clean, like soap and sugar and some light cologne that makes your thighs ache. Your lips almost brush before he pulls back, cheeks pink.

“I-I gotta pee,” he blurts. Then winces. “Fuck. Not like— fuck, I didn’t mean it like—”

You stare at him, lips parted.

“…Me too,” you whisper. “Bathroom. I mean.”

So of course, of course, ten minutes later, you’re both in the tiny single-stall bathroom behind the snack bar, the door locked, and you’re pressed against the wall with Satoru’s hands hovering an inch from your waist like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch you.

You’re panting.

So is he.

And there’s the faintest bulge pressing against his pants.

“You’re hard,” you whisper, stunned.

Satoru turns bright red. “I didn’t mean to be! I swear I wasn’t thinking anything— well I was thinking but not like— well yes like that but I didn’t expect you to—”

“I’m wet.”

That shuts him up.

He blinks. “Wha— You, wait really?”

You nod furiously. “Soaked. I thought I was dying. You’re, l-like— you’re so hot and tall and your hands are big and I thought—”

He sways toward you like he’s being pulled by gravity.

“You think I’m hot?” he breathes, shocked.

Your voice is barely a whisper. “You’re like—the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“…But I’m a virgin.”

You blink. “You’re a virgin?”

He freezes. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. “You’re too confident. And tall. And your voice, like— you talk like you’ve seen shit.”

“I haven’t! I’ve literally never seen anything. I still sleep with a body pillow.”

“Oh my god.”

You both start laughing, but it’s too breathy, too nervous. You’re looking at his lips again.

“I thought you weren’t a virgin,” he admits, voice low now, almost in awe. “You look like— like—”

He waves helplessly at your body. “You’re so pretty. So hot. You look like you’d ruin me.”

“I’ve never even kissed anyone,” you whisper.

“Me either,” he says.

There’s a beat of silent realization.

Then— tentatively— his hands touch your waist. He’s shaking.

“Can I…”

You nod. “Yeah. Please.”

The kiss is terrible. Teeth clashing, noses bumping, your mouths slipping messily before you both pull away with startled laughter. But his face is flushed, and his eyes are glassy, and your thighs are pressed tight together because the way he’s looking at you is not innocent anymore.

“We’re so bad at this,” you whisper.

“I’m gonna die,” he mumbles, forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m so wet I think my panties are ruined,” you say, like a confession.

He groans. “That’s so hot, please don’t say things like that unless you want me to cum in my pants.”

You both snort, but neither of you moves away.

“Can I… touch you?” he whispers, barely audible.

Your eyes widen, breath catching.

“…Yes. But I don’t— I don’t really know how.”

“Me either,” he whispers. “Let’s be awkward together.”

You reach for his belt, and he lifts your hoodie just enough to see the swell of your tits in your bra. And then you both freeze, panting, staring— because holy fuck this is actually happening.

Two very horny, very confused virgins. In a bathroom. At the movies.

Grinding desperately like you’re learning each other’s bodies in braille.

His hands find your hips, pulling you closer. Your fingers tremble at his zipper. And you swear— you swear— when your pussy brushes against his bulge through your panties and tights, he nearly whimpers.

You're both gonna combust.

You’re still half-laughing, half-gasping into his neck, your panties damp and sticking to you like sin, and Satoru’s hard dick is pressed against your inner thigh through his jeans like it hurts. He keeps doing these little shaky inhales, fingers digging into your hoodie at the waist like he needs something to hold onto or he’ll float off the planet.

His glasses are fogged. His cheeks are pink. And when you drag your nose along his jaw just to feel him shiver, he makes the softest noise you’ve ever heard. A tiny, broken sigh— like the kind of sound you might make when someone pets your hair just right.

You feel like you’re on fire.

“You’re really… hard,” you whisper, a little dreamy, dragging your hand down the front of his jeans like you’re curious more than anything else. Because you are. You can feel the length of him, thick and hot under the denim, twitching at just the barest touch of your fingers. “Like… all the way.”

“I know,” he whines, quietly. “It’s been like that since the popcorn scene.”

You giggle. “We didn’t have a popcorn scene.”

“You were licking butter off your fingers.”

“…Oh. Yeah okay, fair.”

You’re still staring at the bulge in his jeans. It’s insane. It’s… kind of intimidating, honestly. But you’re so curious, and he looks like he might actually die from the idea of you wanting to see him like this.

“Can I see it?” you whisper.

His breath catches. His whole body freezes.

“You— my… dick?”

You nod shyly, face burning. “Just once. I just— I wanna know what it looks like.”

He stares at you like you’re a mythical creature. “You really want to see it?”

“…Yeah.”

His fingers are shaking as he fumbles with his zipper.

You don’t look away— not even when he shoves his boxers down and his cock bounces free, flushed and heavy and dripping. You make a noise, something halfway between shock and awe, because holy shit he’s big. Not just big— long, curved a little toward his stomach, thick enough that your mouth goes dry. The tip is glossy and wet, a pretty pink color— a clear bead clinging to the slit like he’s leaking from just grinding on you.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, stunned.

Satoru makes a noise that’s not human. “D-don’t look at it like that.”

“I can’t help it,” you breathe. “It’s pretty.”

His brain shuts down.

“Pretty?” he croaks.

You nod dumbly, staring. “It’s like… glossy. And pink. And it’s twitching.”

He groans. “Don’t say twitching—”

“But it is! It’s like it’s waving at me or something. It looks so needy.”

He grabs the wall behind your head like he might collapse.

“You’re so cute,” you whisper. “You’re really hard just from kissing me.”

“You’re soaking,” he counters, voice hoarse. “You’ve been wet for an hour.”

You whimper a little. “I didn’t even know I could get this wet.”

Satoru groans again and cups himself like it’ll stop him from cumming just from talking to you.

You reach out— slowly— and wrap your fingers around the base.

He jolts, hips stuttering forward into your hand like it’s instinct. His eyes flutter shut and his whole body shudders, like he’s never felt anything like this.

“…You’re so warm,” you whisper. “And thick.”

“I’m gonna cum,” he blurts.

You pause. “Wait, already?”

“I told you,” he gasps, pressing his face into your neck. “It’s your voice— fuck, the way you’re touching me—”

You slide your hand up and watch his cock twitch, leaking over your fingers.

He sobs a little. “Angel, please—”

That makes you freeze.

“…Angel?”

He peeks up at you, embarrassed. “It slipped out.”

You bite your lip, then smile, stroking him again. “I like it.”

“You’re so soft,” he moans. “And your hand’s so small, it doesn’t even fit—”

You squeeze a little tighter. He gasps.

“Tell me when,” you whisper, eyes wide. “I don’t wanna waste it. You’ve been hard for so long.”

“‘When’?” he pants.

“Yeah,” you say, breath catching. “I want to see what your cum looks like too.”

He shatters.

Just like that— hot, thick ropes spill out across your fingers, your hoodie, his shirt. You watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his whole body curls toward yours, hips stuttering, voice cracked and pleading into your shoulder. His cock throbs in your hand like it’s losing its mind. He sounds so helpless, so high and soft when he whimpers your name.

You stare at the mess.

“…Whoa.”

He’s panting against your cheek, totally limp. “That was so embarrassing.”

“It was awesome,” you breathe. “I made you cum.”

“I exploded in ten seconds.”

You stroke his hair. “I think you’re perfect.”

He melts a little into your chest.

“…You wanna see me next?” you whisper.

His head jerks up like a prairie dog.

Satoru’s still shaking.

You can feel it— his breath hot and unsteady on your neck, his heartbeat punching against your ribs where your bodies press together. Satoru Gojo just came all over your hand like some desperate teenager, having a wet dream, and you’re still standing in a movie theater bathroom, soaked to the skin and so turned on it’s getting hard to breathe.

His cum is sticky on your fingers. Warm, it smells faintly like salt and sugar, and he’s still leaning against you like he’s not sure how to stand on his own.

And then—

Your voice, soft and daring, nearly a whisper:

“…You wanna see me next?”

Satoru blinks. Eyes blown wide. Mouth parted, in disbelief.

“…Are you serious?”

You nod.

He looks stunned. “Like… your pussy?”

Your whole face burns.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, suddenly nervous. “If you want. I mean— I know it’s— kind of a lot, and maybe messy, but I just… I’ve never… shown anyone." You're looking down at the floor before you finish the rest of that sentence... then your eyes are darting back up to his face, blue eyes stargazed in disbelief. “And I want you to see.”

He’s speechless, Satoru is utterly speechless.

You fidget, heart thudding, tugging your hoodie down like it can hide the way your thighs are trembling, how wet you still are under your panties.

“I just thought… since I saw yours…”

His hand flies up, quick. Cupping your face, both of you look into each other's eyes.

“I want to,” he blurts. “I want to so bad I think I’m gonna die.”

You smile, shy and giddy. “Okay. Then… can you take my panties off?”

He gasps.

Like, actually gasps. Clutches his chest. Staggers backward like you hit him with a spell.

“Say that again,” he whispers.

You reach under your hoodie, slowly rolling your leggings down to your thighs, revealing just a sliver of your pale pink cotton panties, soaked straight through. There’s a wet patch over your pussy— obvious, shiny, and dark.

“Take them off,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Please?”

He looks like he might cry.

“Oh my god,” he chokes. “You’re so wet you soaked through. That’s from me? From just— grinding on me?”

You nod, cheeks flushed. “You made me so wet I couldn’t focus on the movie.”

His hands are on your thighs now, huge and hot, trembling a little as he sinks to his knees in front of you like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. His glasses slide down his nose. He pushes them up, eyes fixed on your panties like they’re the most sacred thing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers, “but I wanna learn so bad.”

You’re breathing so fast your legs are shaking.

His fingers slide under the sides of your panties. He hesitates.

“Ready?” he asks, voice so soft.

You nod, in eager anticipation, like when you know you're about to rip a band-aid off. But... in this case, it's your soaked sticky ruined panties.

And he pulls them down.

Slow, slow, slow

The cotton clings to your cunt, like they're almost glued to you, but he gets them off with a firmer tug.

Your cunt glosses in the light.

Dripping. Swollen. Slick as fuck and twitching under his gaze. You clench a little just from the air, the tension, the way he’s looking at you like he just saw an angel squirt holy water.

He moans. Moans.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes. “Holy shit, you’re soaked. I didn’t know it could do that.”

You giggle nervously. “It doesn’t usually. I think it’s a you thing.”

He gulps, audibly.

His eyes don’t leave your pussy, even as he leans forward, nose almost brushing your thigh.

“Can I… touch you?”

You feel your knees threaten to buckle.

“Yes.” You say with too much enthusiasm than you meant.

His fingers twitch. “I don’t know how.”

You grab his wrist and guide it...

His middle finger barely grazes your folds and you gasp, clenching, hips jumping forward.

“Oh fuck,” he moans. “That was barely anything. You’re shaking.”

“You touched my clit,” you pant. “It’s sensitive.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Oh my god. I love that you know what it’s called.”

You’re breathless, laughing a little. “I’ve read fanfiction. Have you not?”

“I have, but in those they just say ‘your little pearl’ and shit.”

You groan. “That’s not even close.”

He’s looking again, hand hovering like he’s terrified to mess it up.

“Okay, so… this is your clit,” he murmurs, grazing it again, watching how your whole body twitches. “It’s so tiny. But you sound like I electrocuted you when I touched it.”

You whimper, cause he's teasing... He's curious as well and doesn't fucking know how much him petting your clit actually affects you.

“You like that?” he whispers, a bit entranced. Crystalline blue eyes focusing on the sticky strands of your slick connected to his fingertips as they stretch when he rubs and pulls them off your glued pussylips.

“Y-yeah.”

He touches again, a little firmer... slower, really working your clit, the soft squelches audible, he really wants to taste it, the creamy thing webbing his fingers, the thought pounding in his head.. Would you be grossed out if he just shoved his fingers in his mouth right now and got a taste of that sappy cream?

You whimper louder, snapping his attention back from his lewd thoughts.

His voice is shaking. “Can you c-cum like this? Just from me touching you?”

You nod furiously. “If you keep going, Fuck. Please keep going.”

His thumb brushes you now, a bit more confidently.

“You’re dripping,” he mumbles. “It’s getting on my wrist, angel”

Your thighs snap shut, embarrassed.

But you’re so close and he’s still rubbing in slow, shaky circles and whispering your name and watching you like he’s studying for a test he’s gonna fail with honors. Your clit feels like it’s throbbing. You can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop whining.

And then—

“Cum for me,” he whispers, awed. “Please, please pretty girl, I wanna see.”

That makes your cunt clench, his voice the thing that makes you break instantly.

You clam up around nothing, crying out as your pussy gushes over his hand, wet and twitchy, making a fucking mess on his hoodie sleeve. Your knees give out. He catches you instantly, still on his knees, arms full of shaking, panting girl.

You’re sobbing in relief, thighs sticky, pussy still fluttering, and his hands are holding you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“You’re so amazing,” he breathes. “I can’t believe I made you cum.”

You whimper. “You’re so good. I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

He kisses your thigh.

Then your stomach, and makes his way up and then your lips, just to feel you.

Soft and careful, with utmost devotion and care.

And you melt against him, fucked out and flushed, pressed to his chest.

“…We should do this again,” he mumbles.

“Next time,” you pant, smiling, “I wanna see if you can make me squirt.”

He chokes, on what little air he's breathing.

But you’re still trembling.

Your panties are hanging off one ankle, his cum is drying on your sleeve, and your pussy is throbbing— still fluttering every now and then like your body can’t believe you actually came. You’re slumped against Satoru’s chest, half-limp, while he rubs soft little circles on your lower back like he’s trying to soothe an overstimulated kitten.

Time is passing and neither of you has said anything in the last full minute.

Except him whispering “holy fuck” under his breath every ten seconds like a mantra.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he finally says, voice all hushed reverence. “You came.”

You nod, agreeing lazily. Dazed, and still reeling in the high. “Like… a lot.”

“You squirted.”

“I did not.”

“There was liquid. Splash zone level.”

You slap his chest, giggling, but your thighs twitch. You’re so sensitive you could cry, your clit aches in that perfect, pulsing way that means it wants no more and yet… you’re still soaking wet.

And you feel it. That ache deeper inside you now. Heavy and throbbing. Unused.

Unsatisfied.

You shift against him, face buried in the soft cotton of his shirt, and whisper:

“…Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to put your fingers in me.”

You feel him freeze. Every muscle goes stiff. His hands still on your back. You feel his dick— hard again— press against your thigh like it heard you first.

“Wha— what.”

You look up at him, breath shaky. “You made me cum from the outside. But I’ve never been touched inside.”

His ears go red.

“I— I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“You won’t.” You take his wrist, place his hand gently against your mound. “I trust you.”

He swallows hard. You begin to guide his fingers between your thighs again, letting him feel how wet you still are. You gasp a little just from the contact— still sensitive, still twitchy.

His voice comes out hoarse. “You’re soaked.”

“Just go slow,” you whisper. “I wanna know what it feels like.”

He moves down again and actually takes his jacket off and spreads it over the tiles beneath you. He's kneeling like it’s instinct now, reverent and worshipful. Like he belongs on the floor for you. He kisses your inner thigh once, sweet and shaky, then stares between your legs like he’s seeing magic.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says.

You nod, open for him by parting your thighs, trembling ever so slightly.

His fingers sliding along your sappy folds, middle finger inching closer to your hole's opening, more slick gathers and pools as it tries to worm its way in.

You gasp at the feeling.. a bit in fear and uncertainty, but he's so gentle, holding you tighter against him.

His finger begins to push in, your tiny hole fighting him, the intrusion. It's nothing like you've ever felt.

Satoru’s breathing stops entirely.

“You’re tight,” he whispers, stunned. “You’re— fuck, you’re so warm, I can feel your pulse.”

You whimper. “Go slow. Just the tip.”

He pushes a little, and you clench involuntarily, sucking him in just a bit.

He moans. Actually moans. Like you’re the one touching him.

“Angel, you’re gripping me.”

You bury your face in your sleeve, whining. “It’s not fair. Your fingers are big.”

He curls his finger just slightly— experimenting— and your entire body jolts.

“Oh— oh fuck!” you cry out.

His eyes go wide. “Was that— was that good?”

“D-do it again,” you pant.

He does. Gentler, carefully pressing just right, and your walls flutter around him so tightly it’s like your body doesn’t know how to handle it.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles. “You’re sucking me in.”

You grab his wrist. “Try two.”

He stares. “Are you sure?”

“Please, Satoru.”

You’re breathless, begging.

He shivers like it physically affects him.

He slides another finger in— and your pussy stretches around him, tighter than he expected. Your mouth drops open. Your thighs twitch.

“Oh my god,” you gasp.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me— I can’t move,” he moans.

You rock your hips, helping him, whining through your teeth.

It’s deep. It’s thick. He curls again— and you sob, eyes fluttering back.

“There— oh my god there, right there—”

His fingers are hooked now, rubbing that spongey spot deep inside that makes your eyes cross. His thumb finds your clit on instinct, and suddenly you’re wailing, your whole body shaking, your pussy clenching so hard around his fingers he can barely move.

You cum again, messier and needy. Your velvet walls constricting his fingers in waves.

And he watches, awed, wrecked. His other hand supporting you as your thighs tremble uncontrollably.

He doesn’t even pull out.

He just whispers, “You’re so beautiful when you cum.”

And you start crying.

Happy tears. Dumb overwhelmed tears. Because no one’s ever touched you like this, seen you like this, loved your body with nothing but his hands and awe.

He kisses your forehead.

You sniffle. “I want you inside me someday.”

He nods. “Me too.”

“…But I might have to train for it.”

He laughs, breathless. “Me too. My heart can’t take this.”

You null away on his chest for a minute. Exhausted by everything your body's endured tonight, your panties still on the floor, his arms still secured tight around you and he press soft kisses to the top of your head.

Eventually when he slowly eases his fingers out of you, you're relaxed, no longer holding them hostage, it slides out with a flurry of slick gushing out, all what's been welling up and stuffed inside your cunt for the entire time.

He rubs it up and down your pussylips then into your clit one last time before he's bringing his fingers to his lips, and moaning as your flavour hits his tongue. Finally, getting a taste of you and he couldn't be more pleased at the tangy-sweetness of it.

Satoru licks his fingers clean, savouring it and after he's the one reaching for your panties, tugging them back up along with your leggings as he tells you softly to, "Raise your hips for me please, angel. Good girl, just like that." You do, and he secures them back in place, cunt still pulsing. Fresh slick soaking your panties again.

Satoru stands first, all long limbs and easy grace and he reaches down for you next. His hands are warm as he pulls you up from the bathroom floor. His jacket lies there still, a dark wet patch blooming where your cunt had soaked through.

Heat floods your cheeks, you're quick to mumble an apology, eyes glassy with leftover pleasure and sudden shyness.

He just chuckles softly. Bends to snatch the jacket up like it’s nothing. He balls it in one hand and tucks it under his arm.

“Shh, angel. It’s fine.”

He cups your face, thumbs brushing your flushed skin. Then he kisses you slow and deep, tasting like sin and sweetness. “One wash and it’ll be brand new. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t tell you he plans to keep it exactly like this. A filthy little souvenir, from tonight.

His fingers lace with yours as he leads you out of the stall. The movie is long forgotten. He keeps you tucked close against his side the whole way through the emptying theater. The night air hits cool when you step outside.

In the car he drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. Possessive and gentle.

Later that night you lie in bed, sheets tangled around your legs. Your phone glows in the dark. Heart hammering, you type the silly questions anyway.

you 🩷 so… are we... dating? omg omg am i your girlfriend now?!

His reply comes instantly.

toru 🩵 i knew we were soulmates when you asked to see my dick aaaand called it "pretty" ilysm angel omg

You giggle into your pillow, face burning. Your chest feels too full. Tonight was crazy. Wild and messy and perfect.

But now one, no two orgasms later and Satoru Gojo is yours. Officially. The nerd from the Doraemon expo.

You fall asleep smiling stupidly into your pillow, already wondering when you’ll feel his hands on you again.