꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

With a grunt, Katsuki threw a heavy arm over your waist, turning so that his bare chest was pressed up against your back. The warmth from his skin seeped in through your shirt. He was all encompassing, enveloping you in his dizzying heat.

Swallowing, you prayed silently that you hadn't woken him.

He let out a sigh, the soft sound muffled into the nape of your neck.

You remained as still as you could, fighting to not squirm.

A beat passed, then another.

Your insides melted with quiet relief when he didn't stir, when the rise and fall of his lungs fell in sync with yours— his body giving no indication that he was awake.

With a quiet breath you picked up your phone again, decidedly going back to what you what had busied yourself with before he decided to get all cuddly. But when the brightness of the screen decided to assault you, your heart dropped to your stomach, that relief dying in an instant.

You grimaced at the light, fumbling to quickly get it back down to the lowest setting. It had been all the way down this whole time! You must've misclicked, or—

"You're a shitty fuckin' actor."

You could've swore your soul left your fucking body at the gravelly voice against your ear.

"What the fu—"

You didn't get a chance to finish. Katsuki was already reaching over you, guiding your hand with his to set your phone facedown on your nightstand before bringing it back over your middle, rough palm holding your hand over your stomach.

Your shoulders were wound tight as he spoke; voice tired, gruff as always. But, strangely, he sounded calm.

"Third night in a row. You're not sleeping right."

It was less of an accusation, more of a statement.

He gave it to you plainly, straight and simple. But you thought you had been discreet, the mere feeling of being caught was enough to have you opening your mouth, readying your defense, but his next words had it snapping back shut.

"And don't you fucking lie to me 'bout it."

You bit the inside of your lower lip, running over how you could possibly explain yourself without sounding pathetic.

The last few nights had been much the same: restless, spent tossing and turning.

Even when you did manage to fall asleep on the first try, you'd wake up at odd hours, left to stare at the ceiling with burning eyes, unable to quiet your mind, which was simultaneously ever-racing and absolutely empty.

When you thought about it too long, the corners of your eyes pricked. A quiet, defeated ache twisted in your chest.

You didn't want to cry, not over something so menial, so stupid. Not now, not with him watching— expecting an answer from you.

You swallowed back the lump building up in your throat, feeling the slow brush of his thumb over your knuckles.

"Not sleepy."

It came out tight, quiet. Like you were afraid that if you spoke too loud, your fragile attempt at keeping all of that built up frustration inside would fall apart.

You wanted him to give it up, let you be for once. But Katsuki Bakugou was nothing if not stubborn.

With a rumbling sigh, he rolled you onto your back, reaching an arm over you to pull at the chain of your bedside lamp.

You groaned at the sudden light washing over your bedroom, tugging your blanket up over the bottom half of your face as if it could protect you.

Annoyed, you zeroed your squinted eyes onto him, but that angry furrow between your brows weakened as you took in the image of him propped up on one elbow to look down at you. 

The warm, honeyed lamp-light caught the ends of his mess of blond hair. It was unrulier than usual, sticking up in odd directions from sleep.

He was still tired— blinking slowly, as if his eyelids were too heavy. The usual harsh lines of his face looked almost uncharacteristically soft, but his gaze was weighted with something unspoken.

Guilt twisted inside your chest. 

He was awake because of you. On a work night.

You looked away when he finally spoke up again.

"It's 3 AM. Don't bullshit with me." 

"I'm not bullshitting, Katsuki," you reasoned, wishing you could just sink back into the mattress and not have to deal with this. "I'm… this just happens sometimes. Go back to sleep."

You tried to turn your head the other way, but he caught you by the cheek, pushed your face towards him with a firm hand to make you look at him again.

His jaw was clenched tight as he focused in on your face, took in your sunken eyes, the quiet exhaustion dampening your expression.

You knew he hated when you got like this, all dismissive and stubborn, a mirror of him.

"Don't do that shit." He bit out, his brand of harsh concern. "Not with me."

"I'm not doing anyth—"

"Don't be a fuckin' hard ass, alright? Talk."

"I can't sleep! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I can't fucking sleep? I just can't! I close my eyes, I try... but I can't! And it's—"

You came to a stop the moment you realized the increasing volume of your voice. You reeled back into yourself, embarrassed of your own outburst.

Turning from his hold, you opted to look up at the ceiling, dragging a hand down your face with a deep, shaky sigh.

"Sorry," you murmured. "This is so stupid. But seriously, I'm good."

You didn't spare him a look before turning your back to him with finality, knowing that if you met his eyes — so focused on you, attentive as ever — it would all come pouring over. 

Your throat was tight as you spoke. You hoped he couldn’t tell.

"Sleep, Katsuki. It's late. Don't wanna keep you up, too."

Just when you thought he would give it up, let you deal with this miserable situation by yourself like you always did, he shifted— sat up, pulled back your blanket off of you with a single, harsh tug.

You groaned at the lost warmth, looking at him confused.

"Kats—?!"

He cut you off.

"You tried everything, huh?"

Something about the way he said it — rough and challenging — made your heart spike. He was up to something, but what? You were too exhausted to figure it out, so you offered him a weak answer.

"…Yes?"

"Right."

With one swift motion, he pushed your thighs apart. The outline of his broad shoulders rose from between your legs, thick biceps flexing as he brought your thighs around his waist.

Your legs tightened around him on instinct, bringing him closer as he hovered over you, supporting himself with two steady arms at your side.

You blinked up at him, wondering if he could feel the flustered heat radiating off of your face from being this close.

"W-What're you doing?"

"Helping."

When you continued to just blink back at him at that lackluster answer, a single brow raising slowly, he elaborated with a soft grunt.

"Said you're not sleepy, yeah?"

"… Yeah?"

"Cumming makes you sleepy." all blunt, matter of fact.

Your brows twisted.

"What?" The heat burning your cheeks crawled up to the tips of your ears as your eyes widened incredulously.

It was in his nature to say things as they were, crude and direct, but it still caught you off guard at times, especially over something like this. For someone who got flustered fairly easily, he sure had his moments.

"C'mon. Don't tell me you don't know it." His palm smoothed over your inner thigh, the rough callouses and scars familiar, warm against your soft skin. Careful in a way only you got to see. "Every time we fuck you're out like a light."

"Oh."

"Yeah." he murmured, a little smug. "Tried that?"

You shot him a look. "Obviously not, asshole."

He only chuckled softly, tilting your face up to meet his, kissing the glare right off of your face. His lips moved against yours, slow and intentional.

A soft warmth bloomed behind your ribs as you kissed him back tiredly, letting his movements guide you.

You brought careful hands to rest over his muscled chest, palms slowly sliding up, fingers brushing over the raised, jagged skin of the scar over his heart.

You wrapped your arms around his neck lazily, uncaring that they felt like lead, just wanting him closer to you as your fists curled into the soft hair at his nape.

He pulled back barely an inch, breathing a question against your lips, "You wanna try that?" before kissing you again.

Your brows creased, any semblance of an answer faded into a soft moan against him.

"C'mon, baby," he murmured, pulling back properly this time to kiss up your throat, mouth lingering against your skin.

Baby. He was calling you baby. Because he knew you loved it, knew it turned you to mush— hearing him, always so crude and unapologetic about it, refer to you so sweetly.

A shaky sigh slipped past you as he brought a large hand to the back of your neck, curving it toward him. His kisses turned to gently sucking soft marks and you shuddered, fighting a whine.

"Quit bein' difficult." he huffed, breathe hot against you. "Lemme take care of it."

He brought his face back to watch you like a hound, waiting for your confirmation.

Amidst catching your breath, you contemplated, pursing your lips in thought.

"I… I mean, it doesn't hurt to try?"

It was true, you hadn't tried this 'method' to sleep and part of you was curious whether it would work or not.

But, it was a work night, and despite your desperation and weariness, you knew that this whole ordeal would get in the way of and the strict schedule Katsuki kept to optimize his health and performance. 

He ate well, took part in rigid physical training; mandatory for the powerhouse of a man that stood at number 5 in the pro-hero rankings.

Like clockwork, he woke up at 6 AM, went out there and worked himself to the bone, put his body on the line, and unless the circumstances were dire (either he couldn’t sleep because of dreams of the past or he had missions that demanded later hours) he turned into bed at 8 PM sharp without fail.

From all the years you had known him, you knew that Katsuki was particular about his habits. 

But amidst your guilt, you were forgetting that he was also particular about you.

You had wormed into his heart, became something of an exception for him in many regards. But you couldn't see that now, not with the worry and weariness eating away inside you.

Your half-lidded eyes searched his, a soft crease forming between your brows as you looked up at him.

"... Do you want to, though? I don't wanna keep you up, or… or like make you do thi—"

He cut you off with a scoff, cocking his head in disbelief as if that was possibly the stupidest thing you could have said to him.

"Don't be an idiot, alright?" he pushed closer with a scoff, nose brushing yours. "If that's the shit you're worryin' about, don't."

His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as you chewed on your bottom lip, voice lower; softer.

"Always fuckin' 'want to'."

You took in his words, blinking back the small sting in the corners of your eyes.

Katsuki didn't do pity, never did anything he didn't want to. And right now, he had nothing but undeniable want written all over his face.

There was something ravenous behind those irises, that fiery red sharp and determined in a way that had your stomach flipping.

"Okay," you decided with a slow nod, a small smile settling over your face. "We can try."

A self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face before he nodded back, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to peck your lips. His hands found your waist, sliding up your sides as he deepened the kiss. 

You gasped slightly as they wandered up under your shirt, rough hands smoothing over the curve of your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his palms— giving them a firm, testing squeeze.

He kept your mouth parted with his, slipping his tongue against yours in a careful rhythm.

You made a muffled sound against his lips when his thumbs brushed over your nipples, back arching just enough to tell him you wanted more.

Katsuki pulled back, the small string of saliva between your lips breaking as he began to lift up the fabric of your shirt.

"Arms up."

You complied, raising your arms over your head.

Those blazing eyes narrowed, a subtle furrow forming between his brows— you always thought he looked gorgeous when he was focused, and being the center of that unwavering attention always had your mind spinning.

With a final tug, he pulled your shirt off, watching as your nipples hardened, exposed to the chill of your room.

His eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, pressed a wet kiss to your chest.

Your legs wrapped around his waist again as he cupped both your breasts with his hands, took his time pecking around the soft flesh. It was only when you huffed quietly that he chuckled, giving you a long, slow lick over your nipple.

He ran his thumb back and forth over the other, pinching the taut peak between his index and thumb as he sucked one into his mouth, the subtle scrape of his teeth drawing out a small, strangled sound from you as he nipped at your chest.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him in place.

An involuntary whine slipped past you when he pulled back from your chest with a soft pop, his hot mouth switching to the other one, the whole process repeating until you were breathless— gasping incoherent strings of what vaguely sounded like his name, nails raking down the expanse of his broad upper back.

He drew back at last to take in the picture of you; soft lips parted as you panted, a glistening sheen over your chest, dazed eyes blinking up at him— silently asking for more as they darted between his face and the obvious clothed bulge pressing against your core.

You thought he’d get straight to it, tug down his boxers and give you what he knew you wanted, but it seemed he had a different idea. 

Pulling back between your legs, he lowered himself to your heat slowly, peppering sloppy kisses from your calf down to your inner thighs. When he finally pressed his lips right over your clothed clit, you groaned softly, head sinking back into your pillow.

His tongue peeked out to give your clit a little lick over your panties; warm and slow and wet.

You whimpered, thighs instinctively tightening around his head as you sighed out his name, wanting to melt.

"Katsuki…"

"You're always so pretty, y'know that?" he breathed out before kissing you over the cotton again, watching the damp spot grow darker under the soft amber lamp-light. "Shit drives me fucking crazy."

You drew in a shaky breath, ears burning.

You weren't exactly what you'd call pretty, right now. Your hair was very likely a mess, eyes red and heavy. And up until he had taken it off, all you had on was an old oversized shirt that had seen better days. Your panties weren’t much better; plain, save for the small bow at the center.

But the way he said it still made your heart flutter— as if, despite all of that, you were pretty to him.

You couldn’t gauge how your body looked, what he could see of you, and you were too tired to try and figure it out. But the uncertainty was enough to have you breathing out a small scoff.

"Don't just say that."

The corner of his lip curled back like you had just offended him to the highest degree.

"Y'know I never just say shit." he barked back.

Maybe you had, in a way. Because he really, really didn't. He never said anything he didn't mean when it mattered, especially not to you.

You bit your lip as his finger hooked under the hem of your underwear, his eyes asking you a silent question. 

You nodded slowly, lifting your hips for him. He moved swiftly, slipping off the last piece of fabric shielding you from him.  

He stared down at your bare heat shamelessly. Drank in how your wetness glistened under the soft light, the way your legs twitched slightly as if you were fighting the instinct to close them at his intense, unwavering gaze.

He traced a line down your slit with just a finger, relishing the small sound that drew out of you. His gaze met yours as he parted your folds with two fingers and leaned down, mouth hovering right over your pulsing core.

You watched with shallow breaths, eyes locked with his as he gathered spit in his mouth, letting a hot glob drop slowly onto your pussy. You groaned when he dragged the flat of his tongue over your clit, mixing it with your arousal.

He moaned into you, "Taste so fuckin' good…"

His tongue drew circles around your sensitive nub; so diligent, so thorough.

Like with everything, he gave it his all, didn't quit until he was satisfied. His method tonight was torturous, a slow pace that dragged out each sensation almost unbearably to ease you into that blissed out haze that'd surely knock you out.

He'd barely gotten started, and you were already panting, mind slowly slipping into that pleasure-drunk state.

Your fists curled around the sheets when he sucked your clit softly, just to hear your breathy whines, smiling against you as you keened.

Katsuki Bakugou was known for his mouth. Snappy, explosive, unforgiving. It was what had drawn you to him in the first place, how he never held back.

But this mouth was the one only you got to know. Still relentless, unyielding, just a little mean— but it felt like devotion when he lapped at your leaking mess, fingers digging into your plush thighs to keep you in place as you squirmed.

You reached a hand down, let your fingers card through his soft hair before giving it a small tug. That earned you a groan, the deep rumble muffled against your dripping heat.

He licked a long stripe up your slit— wet, sloppy. Piercing eyes watching your face as he found your entrance, fucked you with his tongue before replacing it with two thick fingers, gathering your wetness before slowly pushing them in. 

You groaned as he worked you up to the stretch, pushed them in knuckle deep.

Savoring the stuttering rise and fall of your chest, he slowly started to pump them in and out. Your eyes fluttered shut, head sinking back into your pillow as his fingers filled you up, curling against that familiar spot— a slow, deep pleasure building each time he hit it just right.

You wanted to cave, melt, maybe sob.

You were so close— you could feel it… just a little more…

But… there was this feeling sitting heavy in your chest, winding up tight around your heart.

You made a noticeable attempt to keep your sounds down as your mind began to race again, your focus drifting away from him as a question resounded your head— you should've already finished by now, right?

Katsuki was doing everything right, touching you perfectly, like he always did. He should be done dealing with you. But you hadn't finished yet, he was still going at it.

Your lower lip trembled. Maybe you were too tired, too caught up in your own exhaustion to cum, but something was holding you back. And If you really couldn't finish, then this would all be pointless, wouldn't it? You'd have wasted both of your time for nothing.

Before the worry could fully cloud your head, Katsuki gave your thigh a firm pat.

You looked down with a start; eyes half-lidded, unfocused.

"There you are." He muttered. "Eyes on me, got it? Hell’s the matter?"

Even when he was concerned, his brashness clung to him.

His care was rough around the edges, imperfect, but it was all his intent. He wanted to be careful with you, you could see it in his eyes, how they were just focused and just soft enough for you to detect.

Even if he didn't know exactly how to do it just right, he tried. Because you mattered. You meant something to him.

He lifted his face just enough for you to know you had his attention, stilled his movements and gave your thigh a small squeeze, a silent prompt to tell him what was wrong.

You couldn't look away if you wanted to, even as you felt your eyes sting— not when he was looking at you like that.

You gnawed at your bottom lip; embarrassed, ashamed.

"I can't."

He raised a brow. "Can't what?"

You let out an exasperated breath. 

"Can't… can’t cum. I can't, feel like— I dunno, something's wrong with me, Katsuki, I'm—" 

"Get outta your head." he cut off your babbling sharply. You whimpered when he started moving his fingers again, tongue coming down to drag over your clit at the same time. "Nothing's fuckin' wrong with you. I know you can."

His unshaken confidence in you was enough to draw out a soft groan, but his mouth and fingers working in tandem to build back that tightening warmth inside you was what had your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as the pressure above your belly wound tighter and tighter. 

That heaviness in your shoulders slowly melted as he picked up the pace, the worry and doubt wrapped tight in your chest loosened and faded steadily, the sweet promise of eventual euphoria taking over your senses.

Quick, shallow breaths escaped your lungs as you brokenly mumbled his name, bucking your hips against his mouth, squeezing around his head with your legs. Your hands found his hair again, pulling without a care as he nearly doubled his efforts.

With a choked out sob, you finally came, the fingers curled in his hair tightening just a bit more one last time before going lax.

You could feel him smiling against your core as you came down; proud, a little cocky, but above all, happy to be lost in the taste of you.

He kissed you through it, mouth unrelenting against your pussy even as your thighs spasmed and trembled, working you down from your orgasm.

With a final kiss over your clit, he finally pulled back, wiping the mixture of his saliva and your slick off the bottom half of his face lazily, like he didn't actually care whether it was there or not.

Shifting, he hovered over you, crimson eyes locking with yours, reading you silently with the same rapt attention he had out on the battlefield.

A light sheen of sweat was cast over his muscled arms at your sides, the highs of his cheeks were flushed a soft pink, spikes of blond hanging messily over his forehead.

"Still with me?"

His voice was gravelly, a smoky rasp. Just a little breathless, but the satisfaction in his eyes told you he'd have it no other way.

You attempted an response, still panting heavily.

"Mhm…"

"Not an answer, baby."

"..Yes. Thank you."

He leaned down to kiss you, you moaned softly at the taste of yourself off of his lips.

Pulling back, he trained his serious eyes on yours. "Don't thank me for that shit."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize either." You managed a snort at how impossible he was being as he continued. "Feelin' sleepy?" You hummed. "Yeah. A little."

He blinked once, scanning your face. Then grunted. "Not good enough."

"Katsuki, it's okay, you've done enou—"

"I told you, 'm gonna take care of it. Yeah?"

With his hands on the underside of your thighs, he pulled your legs around his waist, his hardened cock pressing over your still-drooling pussy, hot and heavy despite the single layer of fabric between you both.

Your heart picked up again; voice small, airy.

"Yeah…"

"Gonna let me, right?"

You whined. "But I just—"

"I know," he shushed you, slowly moving his hips, grinding himself against you agonizingly. "You can gimme another."

"Mh.."

Your lips pursed, brows pinched.

It could feel nice. It would feel nice.

You had warmed up to the idea, hips lifting just slightly to push against him as he moved, a quiet, nearly imperceptible motion.

He noticed, like he always did, but still, he wanted to draw it out of you.

"C'mon, gotta say it." his voice was a half-tease, low and coaxing, yet that mocking undertone never left. "Can only do it if you say it."

You groaned, embarrassed heat crawling up your neck.

He always did this—made you say it out loud, full-well knowing how it embarrassed you.

It was as though he lived to see you get heated, got something out of watching your lips curl and twitch in your attempts to fight your own discomposure.

"Can give you 'nother," you practically huffed out. "Jus' fuck me, please. Wanna feel you."

He smiled down at you, pleased with himself, and before you could even think to roll your eyes at that smug expression, he began to shuffle out of his boxers, freeing his aching cock.

He brought it to rest right over your pussy as he settled between your legs.

His eyes said look, and you did, took in his thick length, the angry flush of his leaking head, the precum dripping onto your navel.

He wanted you to see just how deep he would go, wanted you to really take it in. 

You felt yourself get wetter, feeling empty at just the sight— he reached just below your belly button. 

"You ready?"

Slowly, he dragged his tip between your folds. You let out a small, choked sound, nodding as your hips involuntarily bucked up to chase more.

"Uh huh. Please, please."

Katsuki’s abs tensed as he finally positioned himself just right, pushing into your tight warmth with gritted teeth, biting back the moan threatening to slip past.

He took his sweet time, going inch by agonizing inch, all the while your chest heaved as he stretched you out, filled the emptiness that had you aching.

When he finally bottomed out, panting, you clenched around him, whimpering slightly.

He let out a guttural sound; something low, ragged, already wrecked.

"Don't…" he breathed, voice cracking slightly. "Don't fuckin' do that."

"Sorry…"

"Told you not to do that either."

With a shaky breath, he began to move. Careful rolls of his hips, a hand splayed over your stomach as he eased himself in deep.

You stuttered out his name as that same hand moved lower, stopping right where your bodies met, the pad of his thumb slowly rubbing your clit. 

His eyes fluttered as he watched your head fall back against your pillow, panting as he eased into a languid rhythm, angling his hips with each thrust in search of that spot.

When he found it, you keened, toes curling, lips parting as you let out a moan.

"Katsuki…" you dragged out the end of his name, practically whining.

He only grunted, something like a strangled whimper managing to slip past his gritted teeth. "Yeah, I know, I fuckin' know…"

He continued to thrust slowly, pull all the way back out before pushing back in, intense scarlet eyes watching your face twist upon each intrusion.

You didn't notice his thumb had been brushing the plush of your lower lip before he tapped it.

"Open."

That was all he said. He knew he didn't need much for you to listen. You looked down at his hand, then back up, parting your lips on command, the pink of your tongue peaking out on instinct.

"There we go…" He murmured, slipping his index and middle finger into your waiting mouth slowly.

The weight of his thick digits settled over your tongue and you groaned, sucking gently.

"You like that?" He asked, watching your mouth work around his fingers softly, voice low.

He already knew you liked it, knew that it lulled you into a fuzzy, brainless haze. But he loved to see you nod back at him; that pliant, sweet look in your half-lidded eyes as you offered him soft 'mhm' around his fingers.

He fought the moan crawling up his throat, instead letting out a tight a chuckle.

"Yeah, I know you do."

When he pulled his fingers back, you whimpered, but didn't get to dwell on it for long.

He moved to cage you down, supporting himself by the forearms, groaning into your ear as he bucked his hips deeper into you, pace noticeably faster.

You threw your head back. It was so good, perfect even. But you still wanted to feel more of him.

"Closer…" You asked, a quiet whine behind your words. "Closer, please, baby. Need you closer, Katsuki…"

Katsuki loved missionary, you knew this. He loved that it meant he could get close, actually see you— watch as your face twisted from being filled by him.

But on nights when close wasn't close enough, he folded you in half, pressed himself impossibly deeper, brought you closer than you thought you could ever feel.

The second he realized what you were asking for, he pushed the backs of your thighs, pressed your knees up by your head.

You hooked your arms around his neck, he kissed the the hinge of your jaw, breathing desperate words against your neck.

“Fuck, I love you.”

You bit back a groan, feeling him trail sloppy kisses down to your collarbone.

“Y’know that, right?”

You were shaking, letting out breathy moans as he began to suck soft marks into your skin, lost in the feeling— the taste— of you.

Your hands slid to hold the back of his neck, pulling him back carefully. Your nose bumped his as you held his face, felt the sharp curve of his jaw in your palms.

Hand finding one of his by your head, you laced your fingers with his, gave his hand a soft squeeze before softly pecking his lips. "I love you," you pulled back just to murmur the words against his mouth before pulling him back feverishly, moaning into the kiss. "I love you so much."

He picked up his pace at those words, fucking into you desperately, "Can't believe you thought I didn't wanna do this shit…" He panted out.

"Always fuckin' want you, don't y'get it?" his voice was already deep. but now— rough from sleep and want, the rasp made you impossibly wetter.

The sound of your creaking bed and the soft slap of skin against skin faded into the background as he leaned down to kiss you, all messy and raw.

"Tell me you get it." the words heaved out of him, hot and breathy, his lidded eyes met yours, the blistering need behind them setting your skin ablaze.

"I get it," you managed, tugging him closer, holding him against your chest. "I get it, Katsuki, please—"

He groaned by your ear, "Fuck, I know. I got you…"

Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter. Everything that had weighed on your heart— the frustration, the doubt, the unsureness in yourself. it dissolved to nothingness in the back of your mind— because Katsuki Bakugou loved you. You loved him.

You could feel it all around you; he was everywhere, everything. And part of you felt that was all you might ever need.

With a broken sound, you came, burying into the crook of his neck.

He breathed with you for a moment, held you close, heated sweat-slicked skin against yours. He pulled out carefully, gritting his teeth to bite back a groan.

You were caught off guard when he hooked your thighs over his shoulders, leaned down to lap up your spend— his grip was a vice, absolutely not letting go of you— his fervent mouth moving against your sensitive heat to stimulate you past what you thought was bliss.

You nudged at his face half-heartedly, too tired to even whine; shallow, broken sobs heaved out of you as your thighs twitching around his head.

It was too much, you told him as much. At least, you tried to. You weren't sure if he could make anything out of your nonsensical babbling between whimpers, but you were certain he didn't really care.

When your hands found his hair, you twisted the blond in your fists, letting out a final cry as he pushed you over the edge one last time.

He lifted his head back, lingering for a beat, careful eyes taking you in. Your eyes were shut, relishing the aftershock of your own high as your lungs raced to catch onto air, but more importantly: you were completely fucked out.

With a small kiss to your inner thigh, he got up.

"Where're you going…?” you managed between breaths, feeling his presence on your bed go missing, eyes opening just enough to peek at him.

 “Clean underwear. Water."

"Oh."

"Mhm."

You felt like you might pass out in the best way possible. Your eyes were so droopy, but you tried your best to keep them open.

You traced the line of Katsuki's back as he shuffles through your drawers. Something soft and warm branched out from behind your sternum, spread through your body.

Suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms. Feel his body curve against yours.

He uncapped a bottle of water from your dresser and held it out for you, watching intently as you sat up shakily and took careful sips.

You handed it back to him, wiping at your mouth as he moved back onto your bed, tugging on a clean pair of underwear over your legs. 

"You shoulda kept goin' Katsuki…" You tried to sound harsh, scolding. But it came out softer than you wanted. "You didn't… y'know…"

He pulled the blanket over your body and his quietly, settling at your side. You watched as he laid his head to rest on his pillow, taking in the familiar lines of his face.

"Don't care." He flicked your forehead. "Think too much and I might have to fuck you to sleep again."

Your lower lip jutted at that, a small flush settling over your face.

Reaching an arm out, you drew him closer to you. Your heart swelled at the familiarity of his warmth, that longing in you satiated momentarily at the feeling.

Your hand found the side of his face, thumb brushing over the unscarred side of his face. You always loved that scar on his right cheek, thought it made him look handsome.

A small smile touched your face as you leaned in to press your lips over it, even though his other cheek was much easier to kiss. You liked to do that whenever you got the chance.

"Hey, Katsuki?" You hummed, brushing some of his hair back.

"What?"

Fondness curled inside your chest at his voice; it came quick because it was soft. Because he had softened himself, for you.

"Thank you."

He blinked back at you before, "Tch." then leaning forward to peck your lips.

"Told you to stop doin' that."

You could only chuckle, letting his large hand find the back of your head, pulling you down to cradle you against the warm, solid planes of his chest.

"Sleep."

You yawned, smiling as you pressed your cheek closer against his skin.

"I'll make it up in the morning, 'kay?" You mumbled, the thrum of his heart easing your limbs, his strong arms curled around you tighter. "Promise."

Katsuki snorted softly, running a hand up and down your back, careful and soothing as he tucked you under his chin, adjusting the blanket around you to make sure you were properly warm.

"'M sure you will."

masterlist ★ taglist form ★ want to send in a request?

★ IMPORTANT — the amazing art in the header is not mine! unfortunately, i was not able to find the artist to give adequate credit, so this is my disclaimer !! all i did was edit the coloring.

may blabs: hellooo guys

second smut we up 😈 im still learning how to write ts so this was kiiinda stressful… (overthought a Lot) … but it ok we made it 🥹

im not even a petname bkg believer so idk why i wrote that in but i did playing with him like he’s my doll lalala

love me some acts of service solution oriented katsuki who’s soft in his own way ^_^ and i like emotions so this was quite fun to write! soft intimate smut… sighs dreamily

bkg not getting to nut lowk a recurring pattern now tho im dead 😭 (will he ever get to bust? stay tuned)

(btw title is from the marías song !!! #peak)

A ravenous growl rumbles through him, the saccharine droplets of slick quickly swiping across his nose bridge, coating his cheeks in your aroma. His long pink tongue flicks out to slot between your lips, kitten licking a trail of salvia up your slit.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet baby,” he’s moaning, the sounds muffled by the weight of your entrance fully smothering him, yet he’s loud enough for you to hear him, voice low and vibrating your clit, “stop movin’ ‘n lemme take care of my girls.”

Licking and slurping, the noises fill the bedroom, silky wetness so egregious it rivals the sobs slipping from your shocked face. “Katsuki!” It’s astonishing how easily he holds you still, even as your legs completely give out beneath you. Bulging biceps hardening against your thighs and lifting you up, up, up! to the ceiling, gripping you perfectly in place to lick your walls clean of sap.

“Thinkin’ you’d hurt me? That I can’t handle you?” He’s questioning, tongue sliding down to your tight hole, digging the flicking the fat muscle up into it, “would let you kill me as long as you were the one askin’, baby.”

The gravity only works you closer, body caging in your hips to rock against his mouth, skilled tongue diggin’ in and out of your clenched hole, the button of his nose smushing into your clit. “Oh Kats, s-shit! I—too much! C-Can feel you everywhere!”

Holding onto the headboard for dear life, the wood grain begins to squeak at the hinges, soft nipples hardening when you press yourself tightly against it, the cold texture sending shivers down your spine.

“Can’t help it,” Katsuki's tongue travels back up towards your clit, placing a sloppy kiss to the warm bud, “tastes so damn good, baby.”

You throw your head down to the top of the headboard, drool collecting at the sides of your mouth. Squishy cheeks pressing deeply into grain in an attempt to stifle your moans, eyes slamming shut to savor the feeling of him absolutely ravishing your sex.

He looks up, passionate crimson eyes squinting and blond brows furrowing when he can’t find your face looking down at him. “Oi!” His strong arms prod at your thick hips, swiftly pulling you further down to his chin, your body tumbling backwards.

“H-Huh?” You should have never underestimated his strength, large hands easily spaying around your ass to throw you around like a ragdoll, fingers white knuckling at the soft flesh he grips snug to his mouth. “W-Wha—”

“—Quit hidin’,” he mumbles, teeth nipping at your inner thighs, placing a graphic porno-sounding kiss to the skin, the slick residue from his swollen mouth painting your skin, “needa hear you screamin’ so I know I’m doin’ a damn good job.”

Biting your lip, you rapidly nod down at him, jaw falling open as he begins to rock you on his lips, pink tongue flattening on your slit and applying even pressure.

“K-Kats—mmfuck! Gettin’ close.” Your voice comes out high pitched, a sinful moan roaring from the back of your aching throat, fingertips hooking into the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead to rock against him, mouth perfectly rolling the gooey flesh of your clit.

“Take what ya want from me, know you deserve it,” he’s grumbling beneath you, hand reaching up to spay on your tummy, digits traveling up your navel and towards your breasts, fingers rolling around your nipple. “Know you’re close baby, give it to me, yeah?”

Katsuki knows the exact moment you finally break, head thrown back with a sob, your slick coats his face, hips rapidly rolling fast around the slope of his nose to ride out your high, cunt drenching his face full of your glistening essence.

“Tsuki—Stop!” The high hits you much harder than usual, the strong pink muscle pulling every last ounce of pleasure out of your sore clit, causing you to jump off his face with a yelp, “too much!”

“Where you goin’,” he scoffs beneath you, palms massaging the soft flesh of your ass to anchor you back down, his tongue finding your used hole, “‘m not done yet, come ‘ere.”

It all started with that damned house dress, the one you slipped on just as you tumbled out of bed, body completely bare beneath the silk.

Seeing you standing in the kitchen swirling sticky honey into a steaming mug, every last sense of rationale Shoto Todoroki had left inside of him quickly evaporates, leaving the man at a standstill in the doorway. It’s as if he was still stuck in a dream, a dizzy bout of sleep walking he doesn’t dare pinch himself awake from.

Shoto’s legs move on their own accord, bare feet stepping off the tatami towards you. The hardwood flooring speaks before he can, the paneling creaking beneath his heavy frame.

“Shoto?” You’re asking, popping your head over your shoulder, and when you see him standing in the doorway, you're smiling—eyes wide as saucers.

You twirl around to greet him, skirt easing off your hips as the fabric swishes in the air, “was getting started on some tea, I know you like to make it but I thought I’d surprise you.”

Shoto can’t speak.

Not when you’re looking at him like that.

Shoto desperately wants to fill the empty void due to his lack of response, yet every word falls flat on his lips, heterochromia irises far too focused on your presence to think of anything else.

It wasn’t like you were wearing anything special. The airy, cloud-white garment hung loosely on your frame, chantilly lace wrapping around the swell of your breasts matching the hem at your hips, the length cutting off just above the small divot between your thighs.

You looked angelic, and when the sunlight cut through the opened window, warm hues dancing over your features like a painting, Shoto found himself tumbling down to his knees.

“Sho? Are you okay?” Gasping, your hands grip his forearms, the stocky man easily wrapping himself around your front, red and white hair spaying over your abdomen.

He can only find it in himself to shake his head ‘no’, hands fisting the fabric on your thighs, lips pouting into the silkened garment. “I love you.”

You laugh, fingertips grazing the hair out of his eyes, his chin digging into the soft spot just below your navel, feeling his warmth surround your skin. “I love you enough that I want you to get off the floor,” teasing him, you reaching behind you to turn off the stove, giving him your full attention. “You’re looking at me like you’re going to eat me alive or something.”

Oh? But I am.

The words linger, never daring to leave his mouth.

It’s unfair, he thinks. Everything about you is so perfect. You always know exactly what to say whenever there’s an uncomfortable beat of silence, how you’re so kind to everyone you meet—including himself, showing your appreciation in the small moments that many others would ignore.

Shoto can feel his heart swell in his chest, blood pooling to his ears, the tips surely shining the brightest shade of merlot.

“Love when you wear this,” he mutters, head bowing to place a chaste kiss to each thigh, soft lips mumbling into the flesh, “you are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it, Sho.”

I’d like to rip it off.

He’d buy you ten more if he could; if you’d let him that is, all to tear the flimsy fabric to shreds, a shameless cycle of his devotion to you.

Shoto doesn’t realize his hands have fallen onto your legs, palms gliding smooth over the skin, hands massaging your hips. He kneads the skin just to feel the way it pebbles beneath his grip, the slightest hint of your blood thumping through your veins instantly grounding him in you.

“Sho,” it’s your turn to grip at the fabric, body flushing with the tiniest bit of warmth that pools in your belly at his groping, the hem treading just above your bare mound, “d-don’t know what’s happening but—”

“—You.” He’s growling, voice slicked in the same way the honey sticks to the forgotten ceramic mug, face diving between your legs.

Shoto doesn’t ask as he’s spreading you open, tongue indulging in the way your silky slit coats his tastebuds, the heady flavor causing him to moan, voice shaking. “You happened.”

Taken aback, the sheer force of his greedy muscle licking you clean makes your hands shamelessly bundle the fabric frantically off your hips to gaze down at the starving man, his eyes closed to focus on funneling his tongue deep inside of you.

“Shoto! Oh my god! W-What are you—”

“—Showing you how much I love you.”

Your cunt was his altar, the delightful sap-like nectar seeping out from your drenched folds his savior, lapping the honey slick as if it’s his last meal on earth, one to praise and devour all at the same time.

“Love you,” he’s moaning, reddened tongue making out with your sex as if it was another pair of your lips he was kissing instead, mouth moving in tangent with his words, “love you so much.”

“Sho! Love you too, l-love your mouth.”

“Keep talking,” he smiles, head bowing up and down with each fat lick to your cunt, his tongue prodding the fleshy bits of your sensitive nub, pleasure blossoming in your upper thighs, “tell me how you’re feeling, honey.”

“Wha—I can’t!”

Not when he’s devouring you with a fever you can’t seem to recognize. Tongue soft and sweet; licking every little crevice between your legs, mouth taking every last rational thought from your mind out of your body with a suckle to your clit.

“Please,” he’s begging, widened pupils gazing up at your fucked out face, “tell me what you love about it, talk me through it.”

In fear of him halting his moments, you’re talking faster than you can think, words shakily fumbling out of your withering chest. “Your mouth,” you moan, thighs shaking at the force of him kitten licking your clit, “a-always take your time—shit! So warm ‘n soft.”

“Keep going, love.”

His hands move you easily, arching your hips to allow his long tongue to plug its way into your aching hole, the action causing you to squeak. “Oh your hands Shoto! Love your hands s-so much.”

“Want me to use them?” He asks gently, dominant hand leaving your hips to prod at your entrance, anxiously awaiting your approval.

How could you possibly tell him no?

“Please.”

His finger dips between your lips, the digit easily swallowing up past your entrance from how wet it is, knuckles pressing into you with a ‘squelch’. He pistons it in and out of your hole, tongue latching on your clit to create a seal, loud slurping sounds echoing from damp skin.

It would be dirty if it was anyone else other than Shoto.

“Shoto! D-Don’t stop—please, please don’t stopppp.” Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes as he adds another finger to the equation, fingerprints curling up into your g-spot to brush the point of no return, your sobs turning into wails of pleasure.

“Close? I can feel you squeezing.”

“Yes, yes!” You were stricken by some life altering hysteria, mind utterly preoccupied by the way Shoto worked your cunt wide open, “want—gonna cum in your mouth.”

“Go ahead, I’ll take care of you,” he’s whispering, mouth muffled by the sound of your pussy, nose deep into the puffy flesh of your mound.

Clammy fingertips grasp at his hair, gripping a handful of hair to roll your hips against him. You’re not sure what you're going for, yet nonetheless you chase it, curses falling from your slacked mouth. “Shit, shit, cumming!”

The sensation hits you all at once, Shoto’s hands, his mouth. He will always take care of you, always worship you, even in the kitchen on his hands and knees in the early hours of the morning.

Flurries of sputtering stars burst behind your eyes, Shoto’s hand holding you in place as you ride it out, hips shaking, spine aching.

When he finally pulls away, licking your slick off his lips he’s smiling, hands finding yours.

His fingers are wet. Your tea still isn’t made.

Izuku Midoriya's been waiting for this all day long, discovering you tucked snugly in bed awaiting for him to finally come home, your frame slowly snoozing between the sheets.

His tartan suit was half way off, beige dress coat hanging over the peg of the bed frame, white sleeves of his button up rolled past his elbows, work badge still hanging from his stocky chest.

He’d woken you up in a daze, scarred hands spreading your legs wide open for him, cunt gleaming in the lowlight of the yellow lamp, your nightie barley clinging to your skin.

“Was waiting up for you, didn’t think you’d be so late,” you’re mumbling, voice shy.

He gleams. Of course you waited for him, cunt leaking and begging to be touched, holes ready for him to toy with.

“I’m sorry baby, a-and thank you for being so patient,” he’s murmuring into your neck, taking a deep breath and smiling when he smells traces of his body wash on your skin, “want to make it up to you, will you let me?”

An hour later he had you fully awake and stretched out for him, knees kissing either side of the mattress with his favorite green hued plug popped inside your tight ass, the customized authentic jade gemstone poking out between your cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” Izuku asks, face inches away from your cunt, watching the soft rise and fall of your belly, pussy dripping slick down to the white sheets.

“G-Good,” you’re stuttering, tight ring clenching the metal protrusion inside of you, words glued to your tongue so nicely; gooey mind worried you’ll say the wrong thing starting to scare you, “feels really good ‘zuku.”

“Good.” He parrots, running two fingers that rest on your knee up towards the inside of your thigh, the soft skin feeling like butter on his calloused fingerprints. “I think you’re ready for something else though, aren’t you?”

“Y-Your mouth? Please?” Your woozy eyes look down at him, body shivering as goosebumps erupt everywhere he’s touching you, a hopeful dopey smile spreading on your shiny cheeks.

“You’re silly,” he’s almost chuckling, chest swooning at how devoted you are to him, mind and body completely vulnerable to his heavy presence.

His fingers dip into the crevice just beside your mound, trailing a ghost-like touch up and down to watch you writhe against the mattress, nipples hardening in the dim lighting.

Two fingers lightly touch your clit, the thick digits forcing your slit wideee open, the sloppy sounds of your lips widening to fit him forces your sensitive body to heat up in embarrassment, face smushing into the side of your pillow.

“A-And you’re mean,” mumbling, you suddenly jump at the contact, a firm slaaaappp! landing down on your clit. “Izuku!”

You feel your clit begin to throb, the rapid heartbeat in your chest traveling down to the aching bundle of nerves as he goes right back to massaging it, his eyes absorbing your wild reaction.

Clenching down, the plug presses itself even deeper inside you, the cold metal working its way around your ass, the width squeezing around your sensitive walls.

Izuku goes back to massaging your clit, the soft touch doing little to stimulate it, hips jerking up to reach his touch.

He pulls back, slotting the slick coated fingers into his lips, tongue licking them clean. “Mean? You think this is mean?”

Suddenly, two thick digits are plunging into your cunt, walls clenching down around the protrusions, hot womb easily sucking him in, fingertips hitching knuckles deep.

“Fuck!” You’re mewling, head thrashing.

You wanted him to be inside you think, mind woozy as your holes become equally filled, the pressure of the large plug shifting his chunky knuckles up towards your g-spot—still not fully touching it, yet letting you feel that he’s there.

“Still so tight,” he’s observing, watching the way your pussy expands to take his fingers, the tight lil’ hole squelching for attention around them. “Can feel you sucking me in… feels good, doesn’t it?”

You can’t respond as another finger joins your slit, the pointer finger long and prodding as it slips inside, the stretch forcing a cry out of your dry mouth.

Izuku talks you through it, tells you just how good you’re doing for him, coaxing your body to relax for him, now three fingers deep.

“Let me in, you’re almost there.”

“Doing so good for me, baby. Look so pretty stuffed full of me.”

“You trust me, right?”

You focus on his words, body contorting around his intrusion deep inside of you, fully relaxed to take whatever he gives you.

“Izuku?” The pain quickly blooms into pleasure, an uncomfortable sensation building deep inside your core causing you to beg. “Want your mouth so bad Izuku, e-everything feels too tight—too full!”

Izuku almost feels pity for you.

His pretty baby begging for release, pleading for a smidge of attention from him.

“Since you’ve been so good tonight, maybe I’ll give you what you want?” He’s coaxing you to say what he wants to hear, emerald green eyes laser focused on the soft prodding of your squishy mound, fingers swabbin’ around in your gushy insides like he’s trying to memorize the ridges of your canal.

“Please Izuku,” wishfully thinking, your words slur, spine arching off the bed to greet his freckled cheeks, warm breath tickling your slit.

He places a kiss on your clit just to watch you squeak, eyebrows raising down at you like a hawk watching his prey. “Please what? Use your words.”

“Please use your mouth,” you’re whining, yet he doesn’t move, your eyes widening, “Izuku, can you please u-use your mouth and…”

“Go on.”

He wants to hear you say it out loud. The very words that always cause you to shy away from him, the perverse nature of the descriptions of what you desperately crave from him heating your body up.

“Please eat me out.”

You must really want to cum tonight Izuku’s thinking, his thighs tensing at how sweetly you’re asking, wide eyes gleaming over with sex.

He doesn’t respond, and right when you believe he’s about to stand up from between your legs, an arm anchors around your lower belly, mouth diving in between your legs.

Izuku is messy with it. All tongue and meticulous direction, he teeters between light swiping and harsh sucking against your nub, fully coating himself in slick.

“Mppf! Zu! Oh god!”

He’s purposely holding you from bucking off the mattress, rather having you thrust around in his grasp to feel how his pleasure blooms throughout your body.

His large fingers reach spots inside of you yours could never, rapidly flicking up into your spongey g-spot, he easily stretches out the muscle to take what he wants.

“I’m close—”

“—already? Such a good girl.” He has a way with making you hold on to every word he says, Izuku’s heavy presence invading your space in every way possible.

The only thing you can picture is him, the way his fingers smooch your pussy, tongue licking your clit; even down to the plug, stuffing you completely, all because he asked so nicely.

“Izuku, Izuku, Izuku!” You’re the fullest you’ve ever been in your life, tummy bulging as he flicks his fingers up, the depth so strong you can almost taste it.

You throw your head back, eyes slamming shut to devote yourself in the feeling, your high coming head on, body unable to escape the way its throwing you off the edge.

“Don’t go shy on me now, look at me.” Izuku’s pulling you from that ledge, dripping eyes peering up at him in awe, irises daring to roll back into your skull as he eats you like an animal, fingers scooping your cunt.

“There she is, mmmm my pretty girl,” he hums in approval, the vibrations heading straight to your clit, thighs shaking. Izuku notices, forearm pressing roughly into your lower belly, “oh baby, you’re so close, do you want to cum?”

Izuku is attentive, calculating the best possible outcome using your cunt as his test subject as the feeling takes over you, thighs tensing, toes curling.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please Izuku!” Mumbling, you get lost in the moment once he’s pressing his lips roughly to your clit, the pleasure overbearing, jaw dropping, mouth going silent.

“Go ahead honey,” he’s mumbling, fingers fucking your g-spot, your body breaking beneath him, “because after this one, you’ll give me another, right?”

“Fuck!” You’re nodding, mind blacking out into perpetual bliss, completely unaware the night is just getting started.

“Babe… didn't realize you were this wet, would’ve left Sero's place like hours ago.” Denki Kaminari can’t help but gawk at the painfully beautiful sight unfolding before him.

He’d been teasing you all evening, sitting you prettily on top of his lap whilst everyone else was far too focused on the movie playing in front of them to realize he was rubbing your clit beneath the blanket spread on your legs.

Darling lil’ pussy lips soaking right through lace panties, the skirt you wore granting him easy access as he dipped two fingers between them, pressing the fabric snugly into your slippery clit.

It was blatantly obvious when you were about to finally cum. Body twitching on top of him, legs shaking and muscles flexing. Each attempt to hide your mewls by chewing loudly on pieces of popcorn or sipping your drink, Denki would quietly laugh in your ear, gold earring cold against your skin, as he’d quickly pull his hand away from the mess he’d made to rub at your thighs instead, wrinkled fingertips edging you to soaked oblivion.

When the movie was finally over and you were waddling around in a puddle of slick with legs like jelly, Denki rushed your goodbyes, swearing that he couldn’t get you home any faster.

Feverishly pulling you down onto the carpet of the living room, the anticipation of tasting you takes over him. Large hands flip your skirt above your belly, his golden locs situated snuggly between your legs to stare at the sloppy liquid pouring from your poor neglected pussy lips onto your panties, his mouth salivating at the sight.

“Stop teasin’ me,” you plead with him, the fabric so embarrassingly wet it nips at your heated slit, thighs uncontrollably sopping as Denki's tongue only makes it worse, a fat dribble of spit slopping against your covered cunt.

“I’m nottt—hey! If I knew it was this bad, I would've ate you out in the bathroom.” He’s laughing, voice sleazy, golden irises blown out and dark, pupils fully covering the amber hues.

His fingers pinch the fabric up, up, up! between your fat lips, watching them rapidly swallow up the material like they’re quenching for thirst, your fat cunt sticking out on the sides.

Gasping, you wiggle around in his grasp, hole pulsating and clit throbbing, your hips pressing up towards his nose, the slope catching on your covered clit. “You’re such a freak, a-and Sero’s a perv… he would’ve probably liked that shit.”

You can hear the same thick digits touching your lips begin to tug at the fabric, a dull ‘riiiiipppp’ screeching beneath you as he breaks the stingy fabric in two, leaving your bare glistening cunt shining in the darkness of the room.

“Not when I’m done with ya he won’t,” placing a slow lick from the bottom of your tight hole up to your sensitive clit, Denki groans at the taste, his own hips humping the floor, “it would suck having to buy him a new sink though.”

Your fingers find purchase in his hair, rolling the yellow tendrils between your hands in a tight grip, matching the hectic rolls of your hips to the lazy gyrations of his head.

“Fuck Denki!” You let out a relieved curse when he begins to suck on your clit, his wiggly tongue lapping every last drop of slick that falls from your hole, “I’m done replacing his furniture everytime we b-break it.”

“Want to-mfdph—I want to.” Denki's words are inaudible as he rapidly licks at your pussy, tongue getting completely lost in the feeling of your cunt rubbing his face raw, cheeks warm and covered in your essence.

You peer down at him, his eyes slammed shut as he shakes his head like a dog, mouth moving side to side. “What babe? C-Can't hear you over your sloppy mouth.”

“Shit,” he’s gasping, head coming up for air just long enough to take a sharp breath, his finger finding your neglected hole, “wanna fuck you in every room in his house, show everyone who you belong to.”

“Oh Denki, everyone already kno—oh, fuck!”

His finger instantly flicks up into your gummy g-spot, mouth latching on your clit to lap at the flesh as if he needs to taste you to survive, skilled tongue flicking up and down your sensitive bud.

“Denki!” The familiar hitch jumps deep inside your core, body heating up as your thighs clench around his head, voice cracking, “gonna make me c-cum!”

“Fuckkk-please, give it to me.” Moaning, his cock head manically weeps through the fabric of his pants, the taste of your gushing cunt pushing him closer to the edge, your voice causing his balls to tense up.

Denki’s hips roughly fuck into the floor with such veroccity it jerks him forward, your body fully rocking aginst his fingers, the knuckles traveling further past your walls.

“M-More! Fuck—Please!”

He groans in approval, slipping another finger into your stuffed hole. The burning stretch causes your waterline to prickle with the faintest globes of tears, fingers alternating between gripping the frills of your skirt and the strands of his hair, body teetering on the edge of your high.

“C’mon, you’ve got it babe,” Denkis mumbling into your clit, words vibrating deep into the slippery flesh sending little dull bolts up and down your thighs, knees shaking beside his ears, “soak me—pleaseee, need to feel it-ruin me babe—”

Your voice cuts him off, a wild mantra of his name rapidly falling from your slacked maw as you cum against him, little volts of electricity swirling around the sensitive nerves in your mound, body rolling in ecstasy.

“Fuck babe, jus’ like that,” he’s mumbling, ripping off your swollen clit to watch your face as you fall apart on the floor, his hips stuttering on the pale carpeting beneath them, “aw, shit!”

Before he can realize what’s happening, Denki is cumming untouched with a whimper, mouth returning to lap at your release while his own creates a syrupy mess in his pants.

The pleasure quickly becomes painful, clammy hands gripping him by the head to pull him up towards your lips, locking him into a sloppy kiss.

You moan when you taste yourself on him, palm falling down to fumble his belt wide open, pulling his shaft out of the material and swipin’ your hand over his red beating cock, his cum sticky on your fingers.

“Fuuuck,” he mumbles between your lips, dragging his face down to rub between your neck, sticking your slick onto your skin, “should have done that at his place babe, n-next time I’m dragging you to the bathroom, I swear!”

Your hand grips down hard on his sensitive cock, releasing a whine from the overstimulated boy. “Can you please stop talking about your friends when you’re about to fuck me, please?”

⟡ 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐒 🕷️

Since Sebastian can’t hold himself accountable and show up to Quidditch practice, Imelda takes matters into her own hands and bans him from being around you until the upcoming game is finished. It’s something easier said than done.

⟡ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 🕷️

Following the summer leading up to your seventh year, you return to Hogwarts to discover that Sebastian has undergone changes that greatly appeal to the eye. Your eye, to be specific. There’s no easy way to tell the man you’ve been dating for two years that your attention has been fixed on a part of him otherwise deemed normal, but after a while, you’re forced to face the truth of the matter

⟡ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈 🕷️

Sebastian had a stubborn streak a mile wide, and he rarely gave up before accomplishing whatever it was he set his mind to. His goal of impregnating you was one he was hell-bent on succeeding at, and who were you to deny him?

⟡ 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 🔍 | @arthenaa

The girls and you have a talk on who they'll date amongst the students in Hogwarts. No one mentions Sebastian despite being deemed the most handsome in your year. You wonder why?

⟡ 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 🔍

Sebastian, more often than not, annoys the fuck out of you to get your attention. Your friends think it's disgustingly adorable.

⟡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🕷️ | @authorellasallow

Sebastian Sallow sneaks into your dormitory and finds a list hidden in your bed, one filled with names of girls who want him. All except yours.

⟡ 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐀 🔍 | @awkwardauthorwrites

Two years have passed since the events in Hogwarts Legacy, in which Y/N has drifted away from Sebastian. What happens when she has to spend some time in the hospital wing and he comes to visit?

⟡ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐈𝐈 𝐈𝐈𝐈 🔍

Ten years have passed since the events of Hogwarts Legacy and Y/N is invited back as part of a reunion to celebrate. 

⟡ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 🔍

Y/N comes to a startling revelation when brewing Amortentia in potions class

⟡ 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 🔍🥽 | @barnabyjr

sebastian muses on his relationship with mc, ultimately believing that they are just too good for someone like him

⟡ 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐉𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 🔍

when mc's feelings become too much to handle, and curiosity gets the better of her, she resorts to polyjuice potion to find out what her best friend thinks about her

⟡ 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓 🔍

sebastian, unlike his usual jealous self, is strangely calm despite the numerous love letters being delivered to mc...

⟡ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 🔍 | @blu-blubs

⟡ 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 🕷️ | @cuffmeinblack

Sebastian watches her when she sleeps, safe in his arms as she seeks comfort from her nightmares. Beautiful, perfect, and utterly irresistible; who could blame him for indulging?

⟡ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄 🕷️

Whilst attempting to find Sebastian, instead you stumble upon his memories. Events take an unexpected turn when he finds you

⟡ 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋, 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 🕷️ | @euphorisun

Sebastian goes home to you after a late night shift as an Auror in the Ministry of Magic. After a busy week, he truly missed you... And he just can't wait until you wake up.

⟡ 14 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒: 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 🔍 | @harry-potter-reader-inserts

Sebastian brewed Amortentia to study the difference between obsession and love but the real thing was the one thing even he couldn't control.

⟡ 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐃 🔍

⟡ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 🕷️ | @heavenlybodies333

You should have known better by now. Should’ve known that getting your feelings hurt was just part of the deal when it came to Sebastian Sallow. Because he never promised you anything, did he?

⟡ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 🕷️

⟡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 🕷️

There was an art to it, you know. The first time Sebastian Sallow killed, it had been for revenge. Blood soaked the floorboards of a dusty old crypt, pooling at his feet, and something in him had changed. He hadn’t meant to savor it, but he did.

⟡ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 🔍🕷️ | @jackalope-patronus

very very soft smut of virgin Sebastian and MC reader. With plot! With feelings!

⟡ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐈 🔍🕷️ | @legacygirlingreen

What happens when MC's friends drag her into a packed night club to see a band she hates purely on principle? She meets a cute guy and in the midst of a miscommunication Sebastian goes far to get the attention of the girl who caught his eye

⟡ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂 🔍

what happens when MC and Sebastian are running for their lives and he can’t stop flirting even for a second? Even worse what happens when a major mess leads to them needing to clean up in a small pool in the moonlight?

⟡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 🔍

What happens when a mixup involving amortentia leads to MC accidentally revealing her crush?

⟡ 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 🕷️ | @matchavellichor

Watching his long-time rival and dueling partner kiss someone else ignites feelings in Sebastian that has him questioning just how similar hate is to desire.

⟡ 𝐅𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 🕷️ | @morelikeravenbore

⟡ 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐒𝐘 🔍🕷️ | @myokk

sebastian is clumsy

⟡ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄-𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 🔍

mc loves flustering sebastian with her notes during class

⟡ 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 🔍 | @pasukiyo

much to sebastian's dismay, you agree to watch the krindle children while their mother is away. while telling the old muggle fairytale of sleeping beauty, you get an idea to hopefully lift sebastian’s spirits…

⟡ 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 🔍

⟡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 🔍 | @ppomumgranatum

When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.

⟡ 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 🔍

Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

⟡ 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 🕷️ | @rambling-tam

Separated by duty but bound by magic, you and Sebastian use an enchanted mirror to close the distance between you - baring bodies, secrets, and the ache of wanting too much, too far away.

⟡ 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 🔍 | @ravenelyx

Sebastian has different ways of dealing with being hurt. One of them is burying his face in your chest while you cuddle him

⟡ 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐃 🕷️ | @resarayne

⟡ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 🔍 | @sage-pages

⟡ 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐄 🕷️ | @sallowskeeper

⟡ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 🔍 | @scriptumsempra

She counted steps to the stars. Until one day, she started counting freckles instead. A quiet night, a library glance, and a realisation that not all constellations live in the sky.

⟡ 𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐈 𝐈𝐈𝐈 🔍

Ignorance was the first draft. He only needed one. He used six. An insult, a silence, and the beginning of everything he didn’t know how to say. One chocolate bribe. Two mental breakdowns. Five owls. A guide to losing a witch, one step at a time — and maybe winning her back on the sixth.

⟡ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 🔍

He was Hogwarts’ best duellist. Until she arrived—with borrowed magic, steady hands, and silence sharper than spells. She stole his title, his attention, and maybe—without meaning to—his heart.

⟡ 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 🔍 | @shadowtriovibes

Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back.

⟡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 🔍

⟡ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑? 🔍

⟡ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐈 | 🔍📰

Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian...

⟡ 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍) 🔍📰

⟡ 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 🕷️🔍

⟡ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐈 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐈𝐕 🕷️🔍

sebastian makes the house quidditch team after training all summer. before his first match, you let him talk you into a bet over its outcome that will in all likelihood ruin your friendship. (merlin, you sure hope it does.)

⟡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 🔍 | @shallowsallow

In your sixth year at Hogwarts, you have a secret valentine - and everyone is in on it.

⟡ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 🕷️ | @slytherizz

Sebastian never really knew what his friend saw in Isaac Cooper but he never questioned it - he made his friend happy. That is until a Quidditch match goes quickly awry and he realises his feelings for her may go far deeper than simple friendship.

⟡ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐕! 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐈 🕷️

⟡ 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 🔍🥽📰 | spaceyaceface *epub link

Y/N is sick of Leander Prewett trying to court her. Luckily, she has a best friend named Sebastian Sallow who would love to help put an end to it. They devise a plan to pretend to court up until the Yule Ball. Should be simple, right? If only. 

⟡ 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐘 🔍 | @theealbatross

After a tumultuous year, Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. And he had just almost reached peace – when his brilliant, painfully observant, carelessly crude genius of a friend, Garreth Weasley, started pointing out unnecessary facts that could rip all that harmony to shreds.

⟡ 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 🔍📰

Everyone wonders if you and Sebastian are together. Sebastian wonders when will everyone mind their own business.

⟡ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒, 𝐎𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄? 𝐩𝐭 𝐈 𝐩𝐭 𝐈𝐈 🔍 [2/3]

It's just a game, but really.

⟡ 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄? 🔍

Sebastian is being bullied (false), you can't possibly be falling in love with him (false), and he might have already, possibly, maybe, fallen in love with you too (true).

⟡ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 🔍📰

Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him

⟡ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍: 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 🔍

⟡ 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘? 🕷️ | @thewrldx

⟡ 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐃 🔍 | @underscroft

⟡ 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 🕷️ | @whizzing-fizzbee

You and your husband, Sebastian Sallow, are both Aurors for the Ministry of Magic. When the new hire fails to realize you're married, he shows interest in you, drawing jealousy from your husband

⟡ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 🕷️

You're going absolutely, utterly mental. Your boyfriend, Andrew Larson, hasn't touched you in weeks and you're growing desperate. When he's unwilling to help relieve your sexual tension, your best friend, Sebastian Sallow, always has your back.

⟡ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐈 𝐈𝐈 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐈𝐕 𝐕 🔍🕷️🥽🕯️ | @writing-intheundercroft

Scenes from a life with the auror, Sebastian Sallow.

⟡ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 🔍 | @writingsoftarnishedsilver

⟡ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 🔍

⟡ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 🔍

⟡ 𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐇𝐄 🔍📰

⟡ 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 🔍

⟡ 𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 🕷️

⟡ 𝐁𝐄𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐓 🕷️📰

⟡ 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 🕷️

⟡ 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 🕷️

⟡ 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 (𝐖𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄) 🕷️ | @wttcsms

sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief.

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?” 

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features. 

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year. 

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age. 

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment. 

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence. 

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with! 

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes. 

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore. 

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”. 

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan. 

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.” 

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either. 

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!” 

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession. 

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud? 

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now. 

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you, 

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.” 

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty. 

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence. 

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.” 

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience. 

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is. 

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry. 

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze. 

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra. 

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him. 

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back. 

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes. 

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway. 

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you. 

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway. 

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens. 

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.” 

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.” 

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even. 

“Y-you’re a virgin?” 

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole. 

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.” 

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity. 

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver. 

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now. 

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval. 

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.” 

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again. 

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak. 

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain. 

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession. 

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down. 

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around. 

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only. 

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed… 

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

It was rare for Sebastian to get so bent out of shape over Quidditch. Especially since it had been an unofficial scrimmage between him and a handful of friends– which he had still won, mind— but it was the topic of discussion that had transpired after the actual event in The Three Broomsticks that had gotten him all hot and bothered, and there was no way around the truth of the matter. 

Garreth had brought up graduation. 

It was a topic that Sebastian had done his best to steer clear of since he had yet to formulate a plan for himself after Hogwarts. Apparently Weasley would be starting an apprenticeship with J. Pippins at his shop in Hogsmeade, which had warranted a few hesitant congratulations from the rest of his motley group. It was obvious that Leander and Imelda assumed the same thing Sebastian did; that Garreth would probably blow up the shop soon after starting. 

Then there was Imelda. Headstrong, resilient, and determined to prove herself. She fully intended on trying out for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team after graduation and refused to believe she would do anything but succeed. There was no reason to doubt her at all– she’d always been masterful on her broom and had set new records left and right since Professor Black had reinstated Quidditch again. Sebastian only hoped that he was well out of sight in the event things didn’t go the way Imelda wanted them to. 

Leander had taken a bit of a sharp turn somewhere between the start of school and the present moment and apparently wanted to apply to work at the Ministry. Specifically, he’d been talking about joining the Council of Magical Law– evidently finding the power that would come with such a position all too appealing. Sebastian couldn’t help but think it was rather on brand for the Gryffindor to think as much, but his encouragement had been lukewarm all the same. 

Though he hadn’t joined them at The Three Broomsticks, it was already known that Ominis was also thinking about working for the Ministry, but with a different motive. He wanted to get more closely involved with the Muggle Liaison Office for reasons that continued to escape Sebastian. Whether it was to learn more about their differences to wizard-kind or to spite his family further, Sebastian didn’t know, but he was frankly inclined to believe the latter. 

Then there was you. The enigma, the mystery– the great unknown that had turned his entire world upside down from the moment you’d walked through the Great Hall doors two years ago. He had no clue what your plans were after graduation, and not knowing was slowly eating him alive. It had less to do with being kept out of the loop and more to do with his unspoken feelings for you– feelings that he had been keeping to himself for years now in a bid to keep his friendship with you unmarred. After your tumultuous fifth-year, it had understandably taken some time for the two of you to get back to any semblance of normalcy, and now that graduation was approaching, he couldn’t help but feel like time was slipping through his fingers. 

Sebastian’s previously upbeat demeanor had darkened considerably after that conversation, leading him to bail entirely on drinks at the pub in favor of returning to Hogwarts to wallow in self-pity. 

He’d moved in absolute silence following his return, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his head as he’d gone to his dorm to grab his toiletries and a change of clothes before setting off for the Prefect’s bathroom. Friday nights were notoriously quiet now that everyone’s N.E.W.T’s had been completed, and Sebastian relished in the solitude that he always found in the spacious washroom. Sneaking in and using it was well worth the risk if it spared him from more idle conversations with his fellow classmates. 

It wasn’t unusual for the door to be locked– due in large part to the fact that it always was– so he undid the latch with his wand and shouldered the door open, barreling into the humid space with the grace of a hurricane. He tossed his items down on the countertop beside the sink and ripped his toothbrush out of his bag, shoving it in-between his lips as he turned the faucet on and rifled around for his bath soaps. Disappointment clouded his mind as his thoughts wandered back to you and the unknown future. It wouldn’t take much more than courage and a slim chance for Sebastian to get his feelings for you off his chest, but his fear of rejection kept him rooted in place. He was certain that at this point, it always would. 

“Keep running the water like that and you’ll drain the entire lake,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind him. Sebastian damn near choked himself with his toothbrush as he whirled around to face the culprit, and then he found himself on the verge of fainting when he realized it was you. 

You were lounging in the massive tub with a smile on your face, not at all bothered by Sebastian’s sudden intrusion. Your hair was pinned up off of your bare shoulders in a messy heap, and the brunet stood no chance at concealing his blatant double take when he caught sight of your wet skin. The bulk of your naked body was covered by the scant spread of bubbles, but the tantalizing view of your collarbones had a flush rapidly spreading across his cheeks. 

“I– shit– I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in here,” Sebastian frantically mumbled around his mouthful of toothbrush. Dammit, he sounded like a fool. He ripped the thin stick from his mouth and spun back around to shut off the faucet and hastily gather his belongings from the counter. 

“You didn’t really knock to find out, but it’s fine. Don’t rush off on my account.” 

Your nonchalant tone made him pause, and he hesitantly lifted his head to stare at your reflection in the mirror. True to your words, you seemed wholly unbothered by his presence, simply continuing to bask in the warmth of the water as the steam wafted up into your face.

There wasn’t a chance in hell he could have anticipated something like this happening. 

Almost reluctantly, Sebastian dropped his towel back onto the countertop, instead picking up the paste for his toothbrush before setting to work brushing his teeth. He watched through the mirror as you raked your wet fingers through the free strands of hair that had fallen in front of your face, and the sound of the disturbed water dripping down your arms echoed through the space. “Did you win your scrimmage?” Your eyes never wavered from his in the reflection, and he nodded. “Go out for drinks afterwards?” Another nod, switching to brush the other side of his mouth. “Ominis and Garreth?” Sebastian shook his head. “What, Garreth and Leander?”

He mumbled around a mouthful of foam, “An’ Imelda.”

Your expression pinched into one of confusion as you mused, “I thought you didn’t like drinking with Leander.” Sebastian only shrugged in vague response before bending forward to spit and rinse, trying incredibly hard to not think about how very naked and wet you were presently. He was unsuccessful. 

 For a brief moment, Sebastian debated on changing into his pajamas and leaving despite having come to bathe, but something possessed him to turn around and contemplate you after he turned off the faucet. The easy smile on your face and your half hooded eyes almost knocked him out, and he swallowed thickly. 

What was it he had thought to himself just moments earlier? Courage and a slim chance? Was this not exactly that? 

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his voice almost a whisper. “What are your plans after graduation?” 

You tilted your head to the side in visible confusion, a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes seductively from the movement. He tried not to stare too hard. “Plans?” 

“What will you do once it’s time to leave? You haven’t said anything to me about it– or Ominis,” he added quickly. “We were talking about it in Hogsmeade earlier, so I was just wondering.” 

You seemed to ponder his question for a minute, your wandering hands coming to a sudden halt in the mass of bubbles. Truthfully, you hadn’t brought it up to either of the Slytherin men because you hadn’t come to a final decision yet, but it made sense that with the completion of your N.E.W.T’s, people would begin planning their post-Hogwarts lives. The thought made you equal parts sad and nervous. 

“I thought about getting a job at first… to make a name for myself and save money, you know? But honestly, I think I might travel. I’ve explored virtually all of the Highlands for ancient magic sites and I think I’ve hit a dead end. I want to learn more about Isidora’s magic– the power from the Repository is still as much of an unknown now as it was two years ago. It’s just collecting dust inside of me at this point.” 

Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink and did his damndest not to sound paranoid when he responded. “Travel? Where exactly were you thinking?” 

You shrugged and averted your gaze to the bubbles in front of you. Of course Sebastian would be displeased to discover that yet another person from his life would be departing it so soon. It was part of the reason you’d been keeping your intentions to yourself for so long. Nonetheless, you answered softly, “Maybe to Poland. Isidora’s notes mentioned that she originally hailed from there–”

“Poland?” Sebastian’s frantic voice cut you off, and he found his legs carrying him to the edge of the bathtub to kneel there and bore holes in the top of your head from across the water. “You would go that far to chase after a maybe? You don’t know for certain if looking out there will even bring you any new information– it sounds incredibly reckless.”

You fixed him with a hard, telling look. “That’s rich, coming from you. Who was it that refused to let up in his search for a cure for all of fifth-year?”

His brows slammed down atop his narrowed eyes, “That was different.” 

“How is it any different?” You sounded exasperated, and he sighed indignantly. “You wanted answers, and you never stopped looking for them. You had nothing to go off of, much like myself presently, and you were willing to do anything if it meant saving Anne. I want to use this power for something good, Sebastian. I can’t do that if I don’t know how it works. Leaving is the only plausible outcome for me.”

“It would be that easy for you, then? To leave and disappear for who knows how long searching for who knows what? Would you have even told me if I hadn’t asked just now?” 

It would be that easy for you to leave me, is what he really wasn’t saying. 

You shook your head at him, completely bewildered that he was so affected by your revelation. “Eventually, yes, I would have. I don’t understand– why do you care so much? You of all people should know I would keep in touch; I’ll send owls every week, keep you updated on where I am and what happens. Going our separate ways was practically always in the cards, Sebastian.” 

Some tiny, annoying part of him had always known that. Living at Hogwarts was a blissful reprieve from the real world, offering himself and other students a sanctuary from the concerns and problems of adult life. Hearing you voice your thoughts was a completely different thing, however, and Sebastian was woefully unprepared for the dawning realization that he wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.

He silently cursed himself for having taken this fucking long to accept how empty he would feel without you beside him. 

“Sebastian,” you whispered from across the tub, and his eyes slid shut at the sound of your gentle voice. It hurt too much to fathom not getting to hear it again, or not being able to see you and crack stupid jokes with you in the middle of Potion’s class. He wouldn’t get to duel other students with you in Crossed Wands, or go to Hogsmeade to drink Butterbeers and stop by the lake on your walks back to skip rocks. All of it would end, and he would be alone. 

Again.

“Sebastian,” you said again, and the closer proximity of your voice had him cracking his eyes open. You were directly in front of him now, evidently having left your spot on the other side of the bath to siddle directly up to the ledge in front of him. Your wide eyes gazed imploringly up at him, and your grip on the edge of the tub was white-knuckled. “Why do you care so much?” 

“How could I not care?” He forced the words out while he still had the courage, seemingly gazing into the depths of your very soul as he stared down at you. His words had your eyes widening further as a flush crept up your neck onto your cheeks, and before you got the chance to say anything, Sebastian was leaning down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss. 

A surprised squeak weaseled its way from your throat as he lifted his hands to cradle your head cautiously, and you weakly curled your fingers around his wrists as he dipped lower to accommodate for the awkward angle. Sebastian kissed you hungrily and passionately– in the way he had dreamed of doing for years. He licked along your lower lip and bit gently at it, pulling a gasp from your parted lips before one of your hands came to rest on his bent knee, leaving a wet handprint behind in its wake. 

After a few heated moments, Sebastian broke away to look at you through his lashes, more surprised than anything to discover that your face was an open book; a mixture of shock and hesitance was etched into your features while something much hotter burned in your eyes, making his head fucking spin. 

“Sebastian, I– ah…” 

He let you go and sat back on his heels then, crossing his arms over his knees and resting his chin on his forearms as he peered at you nervously. There were a thousand different things Sebastian wanted to blurt out, but he settled for staying quiet as he waited for you to say something– anything.

You gaped up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as the flush across your cheeks darkened considerably. “How long?” 

He shrugged timidly before he said, “Ages. Since fifth-year, if I’m being honest.” 

“You didn’t… say anything?” His curly brown locs brushed across his forehead as he shook his head. “Why?” 

“After everything that happened in the Catacombs, I was terrified of fucking things up again. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship– I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. So I just… kept my feelings to myself. But now you’re telling me you would leave– that it was always inevitable things would end this way– and I can’t accept that. I refuse to.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Your mind was reeling from Sebastian’s revelation, and your heart was hammering away in your chest so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Of course you felt the exact same way, but much like Sebastian you’d been worried about ruining things or complicating your already tentative relationship– especially after the events of your fifth-year. But now here he was– on his damn knees confessing to you– and your thoughts of the future vanished completely from your mind. 

Biting your lip, you stared up at Sebastian for a moment with wide eyes. One of your hands rose off the edge of the tub to trail your wet fingers across his cheek, and as Sebastian’s freckled face moved away from his arm to swim clearly into view, you stood straight out of the water invitingly and let him wrap his strong arms around your bare waist. As the water beading over your skin soaked through Sebastian’s shirt, his eyes flickered between yours, searching for the hesitance he’d seen there before. 

It was nowhere to be found.

When your lips met with his again, the softness had left them, and the two of you kissed one another hard and needily. Sebastian straightened and nipped at your lips, smiling against your mouth as you melted into him, and your breath caught somewhere in your throat when his tongue slipped into your open mouth to tangle with your own. Holding you tighter, Sebastian trailed his hands over your slick skin– traversing up your spine and into your unruly hair to tangle his fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck. He kissed you desperately, moaning softly into your mouth when he felt your hands sweep across his shoulders to fumble with the buttons at the front of his shirt. 

You’d made it about halfway down the row of clasps before Sebastian grew impatient, freeing one of his hands to deftly undo the buttons with a practiced finesse that made your mouth water eagerly. He panted along the curve of your jaw as he undressed, biting and sucking at the skin of your throat until he was pulling away to shrug the damp material off of his shoulders. His tie was still snug around his neck, clamping the collar of his button-up in place, and he growled as he loosened the thin bit of fabric before yanking it over his head and diving back into the kiss like he’d been starved of your very essence. 

Until now the bizarre angle had proved to be a non-issue– but then the pressing matter of his trousers came to light, and you felt as Sebastian blindly palmed at his belt buckle in a bid to undo it. “Need help?” Your coy offer whispered against his lips sent shivers up his spine, but he was too frantic and greedy to give you the chance to assist.

Those toned, capable arms released you so he could stand fully, his lust-dark eyes never wavering from yours as he finally succeeded in unlooping his belt from around his waist. “Just don’t move and keep watching like that– it’s helping me plenty.” 

You flashed him a mocking pout but did as he asked, settling back into the water and scanning his body longingly as he stripped down to his briefs. He teasingly ran his thumbs under the waistband of his undergarments and shot you a smug look, all too pleased with the way you licked your lips when he eventually began slipping the attire down the delectable ‘V’ of his hips. The sight of Sebastian biting his lip as his cock sprung free and arched proudly against his toned stomach had you halting your movements, though, and you audibly whimpered before the brunet threw his briefs over his shoulder and descended into the soapy water with you. 

In a flash he had you back within reach, his hands coming to cup your rear as he silently prompted you to jump into his arms so he could carry you through the water towards the rim of the massive tub. Your back bumped against the tiles there, and Sebastian took full advantage by pressing himself into you more firmly. The hard, stiff length of him rubbed tantalizingly against your folds, and you sighed contentedly before his mouth was on yours once more. 

The two of you languidly kissed for what seemed like forever, and you were more than willing to continue for as long as Sebastian saw fit. When one of the hands he had against your rear began to slip lower into uncharted territory, you smiled against his lips and huffed out an airy laugh. “Eager, are you?” 

“Shut up,” Sebastian murmured against your mouth, holding fast to your bottom harder and with greater fervor. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” 

You arched your hips against Sebastian’s and drew in a shaky breath at the sensation of his shaft grazing over a particularly sensitive spot. “Then show me,” you implored. 

Growling again, Sebastian wrangled you around until you were kneeling on the ledge with your back to him and your hands braced on the rim of the bathtub. His hands were seemingly everywhere; sliding down your shoulder blades, scratching at the curve of your waist, then ghosting down the backs of your thighs as he nudged your legs apart further. You felt as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss against the outline of your spine, and there wasn’t a chance in hell you could smother the shudder of delight that coursed through you. Sebastian moved on swiftly, though, and began pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses against your lower back, curling his hands around your hips before you felt him descend closer to your nether region. In your current position, it was just barely peeking above the thin layer of bubbles within the tub, and you heard the water slosh around Sebastian as he dropped to his knees and came face to face with your most intimate parts. 

The broad slick of Sebastian’s tongue sliding through your folds pulled a startled gasp from your lips, and your forehead fell against the tile with a soft, stuttered moan. The feeling of him tasting you– achingly and deliberately slow– had you shaking in earnest as you bit your knuckle for a semblance of control. You were struggling against the urge to rock back into his ministrations, eventually settling for reaching between your spread legs with your free hand to rub at your clit for some added reprieve, but then Sebastian slid his palms from your hips to your inner thighs to nudge your hand away. 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered to you, and you mewled softly before tucking your hand against your chest and nodding. “Don’t hold back, either. I want to hear you.”

You were on the verge of responding, but the way Sebastian slid his tongue over you again drove whatever words you’d formulated straight out of your head. His hands ghosted along your skin as he lowered himself further, the tops of his shoulders completely submerging beneath the soapy water, and he took care to trail his fingers slowly down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he made himself comfortable behind you. 

Sebastian laved his tongue over you gently and encouragingly, then experimentally stiffened the muscle before poking it inside of you, leaving you whining and gasping his name. The brunet pushed his tongue in deeper then, moaning in response to the hitch in your voice as he pressed his lips against your folds and fucked the muscle into you slowly. 

“Gods, S-Sebastian–”

The man in question sighed and picked up his pace, flicking his tongue into you and dropping messy kisses against you. One of his hands slid up to your clit, brushing two of his fingers over the bundle of nerves with a moan, and when he leaned in hard to fuck his tongue as deep as possible into you, your high, airy whimpers made Sebastian’s head spin. 

With one last pump of his tongue, Sebastian pulled away, grinning at the way you twitched in response to his efforts. You heard the water stir and felt the warm, wet weight of the Slytherin drape over your back as he leaned forward to kiss across your shoulder, his hands running soothingly up the sides of your waist. 

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed out, prompting you to turn and look at him over your shoulder. Your half-hooded eyes and parted lips sparked something in him then, and when you reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, the brunet leaned in to meet you gladly. You moaned into the kiss, drawing a like-minded sound from Sebastian when you ground your hips back against his throbbing member. His thick hands gripped at your waist tightly as he gasped against your mouth, a desire unlike any he’d ever experienced overtaking him in a matter of seconds. The urge to feel you encasing him was overwhelming– enough so that for one brief moment, Sebastian allowed himself to press so hard against you that it stole your breath and smothered your senses. 

“Sebastian,” you groaned from beneath him. Your gaze sought him out, but his own eyes were pinched shut as he relished in the ecstasy that fell over him from merely grinding against you. It wasn’t simply the act itself that was doing it for him. It was knowing that he was doing it with you. Everything he had craved for two whole years was finally coming to fruition, and despite wanting to relish in every second of it with you, Sebastian was losing himself to his impulses. You called to him again, “Sebastian, please.” 

His chocolate brown eyes cracked open at the sound of your voice coupled with your incessant tugging on his hair, and his shaky sigh told you everything you needed to know; he was incredibly eager. 

“S-Sorry,” he stammered out, swallowing thickly in a way that drew your attention to his bobbing adam’s apple. You merely shook your head in silent dismissal, then rocked back against him to spur him into motion. If it was guidance he needed, you were more than happy to provide it. “I don’t know how much longer I can draw this out,” he admitted with a low voice, and as though to punctuate the statement, you felt his fingers dig into the skin of your hips to prevent you from moving against him any further. 

“Then don’t,” you insisted needily, yanking lightly on his hair once more to goad him into moving. “I’m ready if you are.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice gravelly and directly against the shell of your ear. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

You shivered in anticipation when you felt one of his hands trail down the swell of your rear to probe at your slick entrance with one of his fingers. His other hand traced soothing circles against lower back, relaxing you further until you had melted against the rim of the tub with your neck craned to the side to watch Sebastian as he worked. 

When he sank one of his fingers into you slowly, you let loose a shaky exhale and felt a flush creep up your neck and onto your cheeks, leaving Sebastian biting his lip at the wanton image you made as he pressed the digit knuckle deep. Thrusting slowly, he eventually managed to work a second finger into you, trying not to think too hard about the way you looked spread around him, or the way you moved back against him, or how fucking wet you were. 

“Sebastian,” you groaned. His eyes flicked back up to yours, entirely certain that he looked just as fucking needy as you did– especially given the way you shivered and rode back against his hand a little harder. “C-Curl your fingers down a little–” he did so, and was instantly rewarded with a telling jolt from you. “Oh fuck– there–” 

The sound of Sebastian moaning to himself was almost lost in the way you were gasping and keening, and he moved his hand from your back to your hip to hold you in place as he followed the same path you’d instructed him to with his fingers. He thrusted a little harder, curling his digits against your sweet spot, and the way you arched your back and spread your thighs as far as you could without slipping while you gasped for Sebastian was fucking intoxicating. 

It was too much. 

Sebastian pulled his fingers free and reached towards you without a second thought, coiling his arm around your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his cock rubbed against you, and you were near boneless in the brunet’s arms as his lips molded to yours and his tongue delved into your mouth. His strong arm held you fast to him as the other braced against the rim of the tub, holding him steady above you as he kissed you senseless. When he finally broke away to catch his breath, you practically sagged into the water beneath him. 

“Merlin, Sebastian…” 

“Are you okay?” The Slytherin’s voice was rough when he asked, low and raspy with arousal, and once you gave your enthusiastic approval, Sebastian reached between the two of you to line himself up before pressing into you. 

Sebastian’s eyes squeezed shut at how you felt around him; tight, hot, and utterly incredible. He just barely managed to keep his composure as he slowly filled you, and your scarcely stifled gasps and keening whimpers were decidedly not helping him keep his wits about him. Every fiber of Sebastian’s being urged him to ram his cock into you– to fuck your brains out and hear his name spill from your lips in breathless screams. When he finally did sheathe himself all the way inside of you, he melted against your back, holding you tightly and whispering your name against your ear over and over again. 

“Fuck, you’re…” you trailed off, subtly shaking against Sebastian’s damp skin. “You’re b-big.”

“Gods, darling,” Sebastian breathed, exhaling roughly into the nape of your neck. “Can I move?” 

You gave a stuttered assent, but you were still insanely tight around his cock, so for both your sakes when Sebastian pulled back a little and rolled his hips back in, he did so slowly in a bid to test the waters. 

No pun intended.

Your choked moan was more than enough of an answer for him, so he worked to set a slow, deep rhythm, buying himself time to get used to the heat wrapped around his cock. The gentle sigh that emanated from you coupled with the way your back bowed ever so slightly told Sebastian that his restraint was appreciated. But then you were glancing back at him from over your shoulder, and the rosy flush that colored your cheeks combined with your glazed over eyes nullified the majority of his self-control. 

Sebastian blindly trusted you to keep steady on your knees as he gripped your hips to thrust into you harder, moving faster and giving gasping moans as you tensed and groaned, squeezing him in the most perfect way. He pulled you back onto his cock, adjusting his hips so he could fuck into your sweet spot, and the way you arched under him and cried out was fucking amazing. 

“Oh f-fuck, Sebastian,” you moaned, reaching back to tangle your hand in his damp, brown curls, and Sebastian let you tug him closer so he could mouth along your shoulder, tasting the sweet-smelling bathsoaps as he went. The water splashed around you both, and you swore softly as a small wave of sudsy water sloshed up the side of the tub and sprayed you in your face. 

Taking note of your predicament, Sebastian slowed his movements and angled his head so he could murmur directly in your ear, “Do you want to move?” 

“We could, but– damn, Sebastian–”

Sebastian didn’t want to fucking move. He did want to see your face, though. He pulled out swiftly, and before you could move to climb out of the water, he grabbed and maneuvered you around so your back was pressed against the side of the tub with your legs bent over his elbows. When he reached back further to grip the rim of the tub on either side of you, he sank back into you with a low moan. Water wasn’t the most spectacular of lubricants as it turned out, but you were naturally slick enough that it was essentially a nonissue.

The expression that spread over your flushed face drove Sebastian a little crazy. He moved hot and slow, pulling back far with every aching thrust before filling you up and making you whimper. It’s exactly what Sebastian had wanted, but the way your eyes rolled shut just made him want to fuck you harder, water splashing in your face be damned. 

He leaned in close and nipped at your swollen lips, still rolling his hips maddeningly slow. “I want to fuck you so hard,” he managed, voice shaking. “I want to hear you scream my name. I want to see you fall over the edge so hard that you pass out in my arms.” He snapped his hips, just enough to make you cry out. “I’ll fuck you just like that. I’ll make the Prefects come running from how loud you are. I hope you don’t have plans this weekend, because you’re mine until the bell tolls on Monday.”

You whimpered and shivered under Sebastian, sucking in sharp breaths with every slow thrust, and when you rode your hips back into the brunet, he couldn’t help but let his head hang between his shoulders, his dark eyes sliding shut. The way you were sucking him in deeper was mind-blowing, the water flowing in waves around the two of you, until a burning, tightening sensation took root in your gut and made you grit your teeth together in anticipation. 

“S-Sebastian, fuck,” he thrust harder in response, grinding his hips into you and causing your back to arch with a gasping cry. “Sebastian, I’m– I’m going to–”

“Do it,” he gasped, leaning in to kiss you quickly and messily. “Let me see how you come for me.” 

Your nails dug into his shoulder before you pulled one hand away to begin frantically rubbing circles over your swollen clit. You rocked your hips back into his and worked yourself closer to your finish with a low moan, keeping your movements in time with his thrusts. The way you licked your lips and the way you watched Sebastian with a dark, fucked-out gaze made him whimper. You were so intense– your lips parting on gasping moans of Sebastian’s name– and it took a surprising amount of self-control for him to not just fucking blow it right then. Instead, he bent you back just a little further, just enough to see that needy expression fall back over your face as he fucked you just that little bit harder. 

Your moans grew higher, louder, breathier, until you were crying out and shaking in Sebastian’s arms. “S-Seb– fuck– I’m coming, I’m coming–” 

Your spine rounded and your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down tight on Sebastian’s cock, a guttural whine ripping from your heaving chest as your climax washed over you. The dexterous movements from your fingers took you higher than you thought possible, and the way you barely managed to choke out Sebastian’s name was enough to send the Slytherin over the edge. 

He pressed himself against you and buried his cock deep, fucking you through your finish with short, fast thrusts while he moaned your name against your throat, his hands moving to grip your sides tight with trembling fingers. “Fuck, darling, fuck–”

Blearily, you moved your arm and wrapped it around Sebastian’s neck as he came, who was shaking and babbling far too loud for it to be muffled against your slick skin. You buried your face into his tangled hair, jolting slightly from every miniscule movement of his twitching member inside of you. When the bulk of his post-coital high had subsided, he began wetly mouthing up your neck and along your jaw before sweetly peppering kisses over your cheek. The demonstration brought a breathless grin to your face, and your hands found their way to the hair at the back of his neck before you wound your fingers through the strands. 

“Merlin’s bloody balls,” Sebastian gritted out, sliding his arms out from under your knees to hold them fast to his waist. You followed his lead easily and wrapped your legs around his hips, sitting up to kiss him contentedly as your palms skimmed along his freckled back. He smiled against your lips and murmured, “We should probably get out. I can feel how pruney your fingers are.” 

“Mm,” you hummed softly, pulling back from the kiss to hold one of your hands up to see how wrinkled your skin had become in the throes of passion. “You’re not wrong. But it would be counterproductive to not wash off all the sweat, wouldn’t it?” 

Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink before smiling brightly at you in agreement. Almost reluctantly, he slid free from your welcoming heat and deposited you on the shallow stone ledge, then hoisted himself out of the bath to pad over to his toiletry bag. After grabbing all the necessities and jumping back into the steaming water, the two of you took your time cleansing one another, lingering touches and thoughtful kisses being exchanged throughout the process. Eventually Sebatian found himself sitting with his back to the rim of the tub, your smaller figure situated comfortably between his legs as he scooped water into his hands and let it run over your shoulders. If your slouched posture was anything to go by, you were incredibly relaxed, and Sebastian realized dimly that he was too. To be with you in this way was everything he could ever want and more, and he didn’t want it to end. Not by a longshot. 

“Let me come with you after graduation,” he said suddenly, his voice a mere whisper from behind you. 

Your eyes fluttered open as you processed his request, the bathroom utterly silent except for the distant dripping of water from the faucet, and before long you were turning around to face him with your hands braced on his legs. “What?” 

“Let me come with you,” he said again, conviction burning in his dark eyes. “To Poland. I want to do whatever I can to help you. Please don’t leave me behind.” 

All you could do was blink for a moment before opening and closing your mouth in surprise. Sebastian’s unwavering gaze only prolonged the formation of words, until eventually you furrowed your brow and uncertainty took root. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him with you– far from it, in fact. The events that had transpired just minutes earlier had only proven that your close relationship was something to treasure for as long as possible, and you were more than ready to do exactly that. You just didn’t want him to throw his own ambitions to the side simply because you planned to travel. “What about what you want to do? Don’t you have your own plans? I thought Professor Weasley talked to you about–” 

“I never made a decision,” he stated firmly and with a shake of his head. “The Professor had her own ideas about what I would excel at, but I never agreed or wanted to pursue any of her suggestions. I honestly felt like I was in limbo until now. My point is, what I want is to stay with you. I want to help you the same way you helped me with Anne, and I really, really don’t want to end up sitting alone in some office in London waiting for your owls to reach me. There’s always something missing when you’re not with me.”

To say you were an emotional mess would be a monumental understatement. Sebastian’s words struck something deep within you, something sentimental and desperate to come to the surface. He evidently saw your tears before you felt them, because he was instantly sitting forward to cup your cheeks in his wet hands before wiping them away with his thumbs. The concern on his face was apparent, but you were already smiling reassuringly at him before he could verbally ask if you were alright. “You really know how to confess to a girl, huh?” 

He let loose an airy, relieved laugh that drifted over your nose and chilled your damp cheeks, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrists as he smiled anxiously at you. “I had a long time to practice. Is that a yes, then?” 

“Yes, you can come with me. I would love it if you did,” you said, and the giddy excitement that radiated from the man was the most palpable thing in the room at that moment. “Two heads might be better than one, after all.”

Sebastian was on you in an instant. He coiled around you like a baby mooncalf and smiled so brightly that it easily rivaled the intensity of the sun. Water splashed everywhere as he spun you effortlessly within the bath, your capricious laughter reverberating off the walls of the spacious room as elation flooded your system. Being encased in his warm embrace was all the confirmation you needed that you had made the right choice. In turn, knowing that his future was all the clearer brought a sense of peace and belonging to Sebastian that he would hold on to for as long as he was able. 

Ending his workday means going home. And if he goes home, you’ll be there. And if you’re there, he’ll be reminded of your nasty argument from the other night. And if he thinks about that argument, he’ll have to face the fact that the two of you are still stubbornly refusing to speak to one another until the other apologizes first. It’s a ridiculous standoff—an unnecessary one, and he knows it. But neither of you seems particularly interested in ending it, and now his own apartment has somehow become the last place he wants to be. Every room feels charged with an uncomfortable tension. The living room is awkward. The kitchen is unbearable. Even lying down beside you at night feels weird, so Katsuki would rather avoid the whole thing if he can help it.

If he gets home late enough, you’ll already be asleep. Then he can shower, crawl into bed, and pretend the situation doesn’t exist for a few more hours. It seemed like a solid plan in his mind, but unfortunately, thanks to fucking Shitty-Hair, he has no choice but to head home and hang up his costume. 

And judging by the lights still glowing through the windows of his apartment, his luck has officially run out. You’re still awake. Of course.

He trudges in, and there you are—sitting stiffly on the couch in the living room, staring directly at him with your arms crossed and an infuriated glare on your face as you fix him with narrowed eyes. Great.

“Do you have any fucking clue what time it is?” you hiss without missing a beat.

Katsuki should’ve known you’d start nagging the second he walked through the door. Hell, he should’ve turned around and just left the moment he saw the lights on instead of coming in.

“S’not even ten,” he grumbles, kicking his boots off. “Would you fuckin’ drop it—”

“You were supposed to be home almost two hours ago!” Your voice rings through the apartment, sharp and incredulous, and Katsuki is so tired. So exhausted. Too exhausted to deal with this nonsense right now, of all times.

“Yeah, well. Now I’m home. There you go.”

The dismissal only seems to make you angrier. Katsuki practically watches the steam start pouring from your ears as you shoot to your feet, hands planting firmly on your hips. And he just knows your voice is about to get louder.

“That’s it?” you practically screech. He fucking knew it. “You’re out on patrol for an extra two hours, and I hear nothing from you—not even a text saying, I’ll be home late. I’ve been sitting here like an idiot, wondering what the fuck happened, or if you’re okay, and all you can say is now you’re home? Do you just get off on being an asshole or something, Katsuki?”

His shoulders tense immediately as he fixes you with an equally hard glare. There goes his wish for a peaceful, conflict-avoidant night. Of course, as always, you have to drag the conflict right to him and drop it at his feet, spike his temper, and make it ruin his evening. A simple shower and a good night’s sleep was all he wanted. But things are never quite that easy—not with you.

Katsuki feels a dull throb start behind his eyes as he shoots back, “What, was your phone broken or some shit? What exactly held you at gunpoint and stopped you from sendin’ me a text and asking, huh?”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not laughin’, am I? Definitely no jokes here.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you scowl, and he snorts. There’s no humor behind the sound, however.

“Yeah, that’s real mature.”

“Oh no—you don’t get to tell me about what’s mature and what isn’t. Cause if you wanna talk about what’s mature, it’s not disappearing for two hours and acting like I’m insane for being worried!”

“I wasn’t disappearing, I was fuckin’ doing my job.”

“You were supposed to be done with that job hours ago!”

“Well, I wasn’t!”

“You have a smart little answer for everything, don’t you, Katsuki?” you smile sarcastically, “just think you’re so smart and above it all, huh?”

Katsuki doesn’t know if it’s the headache that’s been creeping on him, or the rage, or the pure adrenaline in his system, but he does know that for a short, fleeting second, all he saw was red. 

“Holy fuck, do you ever listen to yourself?”

Your expression hardens instantly. “No, I think you should listen to yourself. You might hear an idiot if you do.”

The apartment goes quiet. Dangerously quiet. 

“You know what?” he says coldly, “forget this. I’m goin’ the fuck to sleep—I’ve dealt with enough bullshit tonight—”

You throw your hands in the air, exasperated. There is a flash of hurt on your face that makes his chest ache, but the sharp stab of pain doesn’t last for long because as quickly as his heart bleeds, his mind makes him forget. It only lets him focus on the anger and the irritation and the way you’ve ruined his night, just like you ruined the one before. 

“Every single time I tell you something bothers me, you act like it’s a personal attack, and then you just dismiss me like I don’t matter—”

“Maybe I wouldn’t dismiss shit if every conversation with you didn’t turn into a fuckin’ laundry list of grievances you got with me!”

“You only take everything I say as a complaint because you refuse to communicate!”

“Because not everything needs to be a damn discussion like we’re in therapy!”

“Right,” you laugh bitterly. “Silly me. God forbid I expect basic consideration from you.”

Something ugly flashes across his face. He knows it. Katsuki knows that when he’s mad, he turns ugly—he’s always been that way. It’s the only way he knows how to be. For the longest time, he thought you were the only person he could hide it from. That you were the only person he could fight the urge to get ugly from because you are just that special. 

But Katsuki is who he is, and he’s learned that he’s a special kind of ugly just for you.

“Basic consideration?” he barks. “You’re sayin’ I’m not considerate?”

“No, sometimes you fucking aren’t and—”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ rich! I break my back every day keeping this city safe—”

“Well, if the city is the only thing you can be considerate for, why the fuck are you even here?”

It’s silent as soon as the words leave your mouth. Katsuki goes completely still. He can feel it the second it happens—the way his expression shuts down. The way the anger drains out of his face and leaves behind something colder. Something worse. Something so ugly, he has to get out of here before you see it and realize he isn’t worth it. Isn’t worth you. 

“Yeah,” His voice is flat. “Why am I here, right? You know, you can just tell me to leave next time, it’d be a lot fuckin’ easier for you.”

“Katsuki—”

“No.” He grabs the strap of his duffel bag that carries his guantlets from where he’d dropped it by the door, throwing it over his shoulder as he bends down to lace his boots up again.

“Katsuki, that’s not what I meant.”

“Sure.”

“I was angry—”

“Clearly, you’re always fuckin’ angry at me. I’m always doin’ something the fuck wrong, aren’t I? Nothin’ I do is enough?”

Stop, stop, stop. His mind is screaming, begging him not to do this. To get out. To leave and fight that hideous part of him down until he’s far enough that you never, ever have to see it.

“Katsuki, don’t do this right now—”

“Do what?” His voice rises more than it should. Stop—stop now. But he can’t. The ugliest of him is already taking surface and showing his truest of colors. “What exactly am I supposed to say here, huh?” You flinch. He needs to fucking stop, but he doesn’t. “Because apparently, when I stay late to save people, I’m an asshole. When I’m home, I’m an asshole. I breathe, I’m an asshole. I exist, I’m an asshole.”

“That’s not—”

“So what’s the answer?” His laugh is bitter and so, so cold that he doesn’t recognize this version of himself. Not with you. He wants to stop desperately, but he can’t. Because Katsuki is an ugly, hideous, despicable person deep down. No amount of heroism on the surface can hide that part of him that’s on the inside, not from you. “Since you’ve got everything figured out, you tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do.”

“Katsuki, let’s just sit down and—”

He shakes his head. For a second, he wants it to hurt. He wants it to hurt for you. Stop, stop, stop— “Y’know what? I’m done.”

His hand closes around the doorknob, and your voice comes out shaky and panicked as you whisper, “Katsuki, please just sit down and—”

“I’m not fuckin’ doin’ this shit anymore.”

Then he yanks the door open and walks right back out, slamming it hard enough behind him to rattle the picture frames on the wall.

────────────────────────

Katsuki is six when he first asks his father what the fuck the old man even sees in the hag that is his mother. He remembers the conversation vividly. 

“Dad, why did you marry Mom? She’s grumpy and old, and she yells all the time,” little Katsuki asks, crossing his tiny arms over his chest. “Why d’you even like her?”

Masaru nearly chokes on his tea. “Katsuki,” he coughs. “Your mother isn’t old. You shouldn’t say that—it’s rude.”

“But she is,” he huffs. “She smells like an old lady, too.”

“Well, if she’s old, then I’m even older,” Masaru points out, taking another sip. “So that can’t be a very good reason not to like her.”

“Well, she’s mean.”

“She’s not mean,” his father chuckles, thoroughly amused. 

No matter how many times he sees it, Katsuki doesn’t understand it—the way his father gets that dumb, starry-eyed look whenever Mitsuki comes up. She’s always in a bad mood, and if she isn’t, she’s probably due for one within the next thirty minutes. Why his father would choose to marry such a sour lady is completely beyond his six-year-old comprehension.

“She yelled at me this morning,” he sulks.

“You tried to use your explosions inside the house,” Masaru reminds him, leveling him with a pointed look. “We talked about that. Rules are rules for a reason, young man.”

Katsuki pouts harder. His father is supposed to take his side.

“But she still yelled. And it was mean,” he argues back stubbornly. Masaru only smiles into his tea, shaking his head with fond amusement. For a moment, neither of them speaks. Then Katsuki presses again, “So what do you even like about her?”

The question seems to catch Masaru off guard. He pauses, thinking. “Well,” he says slowly, “she’s funny.”

Katsuki blinks. His father cannot possibly be serious. “Mom?”

“Yes.”

“She’s funny?”

“Very.”

“No, she isn’t,” Katsuki says immediately, deeply offended by the blatant lie.

Masaru laughs, “She is.” Katsuki stares at him like he’s completely lost his mind. Masaru only smiles wider. “She’s honest, too. You always know what she’s thinking.”

“That’s because she says whatever she thinks.”

“Exactly.”

“And she says it loud.”

“That’s true.”

“She says it really loud, Dad.”

Masaru nods solemnly, sighing. “Also very true, son.”

“She should shut up,” Katsuki huffs. His father fixes him with a stern look at that, and he shrinks back just a little. 

“We do not say that about our mother, Katsuki.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but slumps deeper into his chair all the same. “Fine.”

“Your mother is wonderful,” his father says. “She works hard. She cares about people. She loves our family—she loves us. One day, you’ll see that. And when you do, I think you’ll appreciate her a lot more.”

Katsuki picks at the food on his plate, turning the words over in his head. 

His mother does love him—he knows that much, even if she is annoying. She remembers all the snacks he likes and somehow always comes home with them without him ever having to ask. Whenever he asks for money, she gives him more than he requested—even if it usually costs him an irritatingly painful pinch to the cheek. She wakes up early to bathe him despite complaining about losing sleep because he prefers morning baths to evening ones.

His mother loves him; he knows that to be true. But it’s only true because she is his mother, and he is her son. Mothers love their sons—it’s the rules. Why his father would willingly choose to love that woman remains completely incomprehensible, however, in his mind.

“Mom is super annoying,” he says bluntly.

Masaru’s smile softens. “I suppose sometimes she can be, yes.”

“See?” Katsuki perks up immediately, his entire face screaming, gotcha!

“But,” Masaru continues, “I’m sure I annoy her, too.”

Katsuki deflates on the spot. 

More than that, he simply cannot imagine such a thing being possible. His father is calm and nice and makes good food. Katsuki thinks lots of women would like his father—women who also would not find Masaru annoying. The only person allowed to find Masaru annoying is Katsuki himself, and that’s because his father makes rules that Katsuki has to follow. He thinks he’s earned that right.

His mother, however, has no such excuse.

“She gets annoyed with you?” he asks incredulously.

“Of course. Every day, I’m sure there’s something I do that annoys her at least a little.”

“Then why does she like you?”

Masaru thinks for a moment, carefully choosing his words, trying to explain this odd phenomenon that is love. “Because loving someone isn’t about finding a person who never annoys you,” he says finally. “It’s about finding someone who still sees your value even when you’re annoying. Someone who chooses you anyway. Does that make sense?”

His nose wrinkles immediately. “No.” His father stifles a chuckle when Katsuki adds, “That sounds dumb.”

“Maybe,” Masaru hums, eyeing him with bright, endeared eyes.

“I’m not gonna marry someone annoying when I’m all big. Because I’m smart!”

That earns him a full laugh from his father. It’s the kind of laugh that makes Masaru lean forward and wipe at the corner of his eye. In fact, he laughs so hard he nearly spills his tea. “You say that now,” his father says, setting his mug down, “but that’ll change. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“No, I won’t,” Katsuki grumbles. He doesn’t appreciate that he’s not being taken seriously.

“I think you will, son.”

“I definitely won’t.”

Masaru only smiles. He looks at Katsuki the way adults always do when they think he’s young and silly and doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And Katsuki hates that look. He’s smart—excellent, even. Just the other day, he caught his teacher’s mistake during subtraction when nobody else in his class noticed. At this rate, he’s well on his way to being smarter than most adults.

He absolutely knows what he’s talking about.

“Well, we’ll just have to see, Katsuki. If I’m right, you’ll take me out for ramen someday. Deal?”

“Fine,” Katsuki huffs, puffing out his chest confidently. “But you’ll never see that ramen.”

────────────────────────

Twenty years later, Katsuki sometimes wonders if he’s going to have to admit he was wrong and take the old man out for ramen after all.

You are, without question, the most annoying, irritating, vein-popping individual he has ever met. It’s like every decision you make is carefully calculated to inconvenience him specifically.

He has to keep an extra jacket in his car because you never check the weather before leaving the house. He has to double-check your grocery lists before you go shopping because if he doesn’t, you’ll somehow forget the one thing you actually need. He has to make sure you take your vitamins. Every night, he has to remind you to take your makeup off before bed because, apparently, that responsibility has become his problem—and if you wake up the next morning with mascara smeared under your eyes because you didn’t listen to him, then somehow you still find a way to blame him for not wiping it for you.

You are annoying. Every single fucking day, you annoy him. You annoyed him yesterday. You’ve annoyed him today. You’ll annoy him tomorrow. And he’ll tell you exactly that—he’ll call you a dumbass, and tell you to get your life together. Complain about the ridiculous thing you did this time, and accuse you of going out of your way to make his life harder on purpose. But after that, despite it all, he will still love you. 

Twenty years later, now that he’s older, Katsuki realizes he understands what his father meant. That loving someone doesn’t happen because they never annoyed him—loving someone happens because they annoyed him, and he still, despite that, sees nothing but the good.

He loves you. You are annoying and drive him up a wall, but Katsuki knows that you are good. The greatest good that there might ever be, and he might have just ruined it. He probably fucked it all up and lost all the good he had. All the good he’s ever wanted. All the good that he’s wanted to keep for the rest of his life and cherish.

The second the apartment door slams shut behind him, Katsuki regrets it. He regrets being the reason behind that look on your face. That brief flash of panic in your eyes right before he left. That way that your voice sounded when you said his name.

He can’t get it out of his head as he walks out of your building. “Fuck,” He runs a hand through his hair and keeps walking.

The only friends he’d willingly see right now are working, his parents are definitely sleeping (and would ask too many questions he doesn’t want to answer, even if they weren’t), and he is nowhere near calm enough to go back upstairs and just go home.

But his patrol route is still active. So instead of going home and into bed like a normal person who has morning patrol, Katsuki leaves his apartment building behind and heads toward work.

By the time he gets suited up again, it’s almost eleven. By the time it’s midnight, he’s still out. By the time it’s 1 AM, he should call it a night.

Instead, however, he keeps moving. One more block turns into one more street. Anything to keep himself from going home or thinking about the argument. About the way you looked at him. About the things he said. About the shit he ruined for sure.

His thoughts are loud enough in his head, turning him deaf to everything else. He misses things he normally wouldn’t—things like suspicious shadows and warning shouts from another hero.

By the time Katsuki realizes what’s happening for what it is, the villain goes down easily enough—too easily. He curses himself for being so naive, so rash. He’s been fighting as a pro for years. He was a war veteran before he was even a legal adult, for crying out loud. Still, despite all that, the second Katsuki realizes something is wrong, it’s already too late.

The construction site groans around him—metal screeches against metal, and his head snaps upward. All he sees is the upper half of the structure collapsing before he loses his balance and collapses with it. 

“Shit—”

The explosion leaves his palms a fraction of a second too late, and he doesn’t go propelling forward the way he’s supposed to. The half-built building comes down, and Katsuki goes down with it. 

Then everything goes dark.

────────────────────────

It’s 2 AM when you see it on the news. Kirishima sends you a text asking if you’d heard what happened, and by the time you’ve spammed him with messages asking what the hell he was even talking about, he’s gone silent. Something in your gut knows that he’s not answering because he’s too busy rescuing. Too busy being a hero.

Your heart tells you that the person he has to be a hero to tonight just so happens to be Katsuki.

The first report you see hits the news at 2:13 AM. The anchor’s voice is as smooth and polished as ever as she delivers the words that send your whole world crumbling around you. 

“We are receiving breaking reports of a major incident involving Pro Hero Dynamight.”

The footage that floods the screen makes you fall to your knees and muffle your sobs behind a shaky palm—collapsed concrete and emergency responders and heroes rushing in and out of the wreckage. The camera zooms toward the ruined construction site, and Katsuki’s body is nowhere to be seen on the screen. You don’t quite know if that’s a good thing or bad.

“Dynamight was reportedly responding to a villain incident when a structural collapse occurred. We are told he is trapped beneath the rubble. Emergency responders are currently on the scene, conducting rescue operations.”

At 2:37 AM, the hospital gives you a call as his emergency contact. You’re sick to your stomach, not sure how you’ll make the drive there when Kirishima finally texts you again.

Kiri <3: I already told his parents. They’re on their way so don’t worry about it Kiri <3: One of my sidekicks is outside your apartment. They’ll drive you down there Kiri <3: I still have to handle the aftermath and finish patrol so I won’t be there I’m sorry Kiri <3: Keep me updated?

You: Don’t apologize Kiri idk what I’d do without u You: Thank you and pls be safe You: I’ll lyk things as soon as I find out

Kiri <3: Take it easy okay? Kiri <3: He’s come back from worse. It’ll be alright

——

Kirishima’s sidekick gets you to the hospital efficiently, but you are still at your wits’ end by the time you can rush out of the passenger seat and bolt through the sliding doors.

Some part of you is grateful you didn’t have to drive here yourself because you know you would’ve sped dangerously over the limit, missed half the red lights, and probably would’ve gotten yourself pulled over. At the same time, you wish you could’ve been the one behind the wheel, just to get here faster.

“I’m here to see Kats—um, Dynamight,” you say in a rush. “Dynamight…I meant Dynamight.”

The woman at the front desk looks at you with a raised eyebrow, already typing away at her screen as she blandly says, “Valid ID, please.”

You curse under your breath, fumbling through your purse for your wallet, and then fumbling through your wallet for your ID like your hands suddenly don’t belong to your body anymore.

When you practically shove it toward her in your haste, she takes it too calmly for your racing heart and inspects it for a moment. Then looks at her screen. Then back to your ID. Then she types for what feels like an agonizing eternity before she finally hands the card back and says, “Fourth floor, room twelve. He’s stable, but he has some serious injuries that they’ll have to monitor and heal slowly due to his stamina—”

You’re already moving before she finishes. You’re bolting toward the elevators, heart slamming so hard it hurts. The ride up to the fourth floor is torturously slow. When you finally get out of the elevator, you’re halfway down the hallway before you even register the security guard stepping in front of you.

“ID.” Again. Of course. You suppose it is a good thing security is tight for the pro hero unit—even if it does add to your piling weight of anxiety. When you clumsily pull it yet again, he checks it for another cruelly long stretch of time, glancing between the card and the device in his hands before finally saying, “Go ahead.”

You’re already moving.

By the time you reach room twelve, your hands are shaking so badly you can barely hold yourself still. For a moment, you just stand there, frozen. Would Katsuki even want to see you? Is he fed up with you? Would you just make his already terrible night even worse?

You aren’t sure.

You don’t know why you’re in the predicament you’re in right now. You don’t know how you got here or why things escalated the way that they did. You don’t know what you do wrong to push his buttons the way you seem to, to upset him the way that he gets. You think you’re doing the right thing—that you’re doing what’s right for both of you—but somehow, you always seem to mess it up. Always seem to say the wrong thing. Always seem to ruin whatever good the two of you have managed to build between you.

But you love Katsuki, and if nothing else, you know that he loves you too, and you need to see him. So you force down the bile in your throat and push the door open. The first thing you notice when you see him is the bandages wrapped tightly around him. One arm heavily secured in a cast. Gauze lining his shoulder and collarbone that makes your stomach drop in a sick, immediate lurch. Machines hum quietly beside him, keeping track of his vitals.

You never see Katsuki hurt like this—he’s always been practically invincible when he’s on the field, always taking things down before they have a chance at even touching him. And then your brain, cruelly, supplies the thought: but he is not invincible. Not always.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, eyes already welling with tears.

He’s looking at you the second the door opens—but his tired eyes soften with relief, just a little, when they land on you. “You came,” he says, voice rough.

“Of course I came,” you say, sharper than you mean to. How could he think you wouldn’t? How far have you let things go that he could genuinely believe you wouldn’t show up for him? “What the hell happened?”

He sighs, almost embarrassed. “Just…work ‘n shit.”

You sniffle, and he lifts his good arm toward you. That’s all it takes. 

You’re at his side in an instant, squeezing into the small space beside him on the hospital bed and curling yourself against his chest. You’re careful not to disturb any of the machines surrounding him, but you can’t stop thinking about how wrong this feels. How you shouldn’t be the one being comforted right now. How he’s the one lying in a hospital bed, yet somehow he’s still the one rubbing your back and soothing your tears.

“I thought you were gonna die,” you sob. “I—I saw the rubble, and Kiri stopped texting back and...and I thought you got crushed.”

“M’not fuckin’ dying, babe,” he huffs, sounding mildly offended. “A stupid building isn’t killin’ me. That’s a dumbass way to go.”

“You don’t know that,” you shake your head. “You can’t promise that.”

“Listen—”

“And I was sitting there watching the news and thinking the last conversation I ever had with you was that stupid fight,” you continue, looking up at him with trembling lips.

His eyes soften. “I know, but—”

“And I don’t care about the argument anymore,” you say, your voice shaking harder now. “I don’t care about being right or winning or being apologized to first—I should’ve texted you, you’re right. You...you probably felt like I didn’t care, but I do. I care so much, and I love you more than anything.”

You take a breath that does absolutely nothing to steady you. Katsuki is trying to wipe your tears away with one weak arm.

“I love you too—”

“I just want you to talk to me,” you sob. “I know I’m annoying, and I nag and scold and get onto you all the time, and I’m trying not to do that as much—really, I am! But I just...I wish you’d tell me things, too. Y’know? I am the one person you’re supposed to do that with, Katsuki,” you add, your voice cracking all over again. “But sometimes, it feels like I’m the last person you want to do that with.”

His expression tightens. “That’s not—”

“And I want us to work because I’ve never liked someone so much—it stresses me out. Because I love you and I want this to work, and the thought of it not working makes me so anxious I wanna throw up, and...and you act like talking to me is harder than getting crushed under a fucking building—”

“Baby.” He squeezes your cheeks together and silences you as he pulls your face closer, pressing a kiss to your puckered lips. “You talk a lot, y’know that?”

You huff at him immediately, tears spilling down your cheeks even faster. “That is so rude, given the—”

“I’m sorry about the fight,” he interrupts. You pause, and he takes the opportunity to keep going, despite looking painfully uncomfortable the entire time. “And for...walkin’ out ‘n shit. That was fucked up. I don’t talk to you like I should. You’re right. S’weird for me, and I hate it sometimes. I don’t know how to just...say shit like you do. Okay?” He sighs. “But m’gonna try more because you’re right—I need to talk to you. But you gotta get outta your head so much—” He gives your forehead a small jab with his finger. You sniffle and swat his hand away with a watery scowl. It earns the faintest grin from him. “We’re gonna work,” he says. “’Cause we do. That’s all there is to it, okay?”

“But—”

“No buts,” he grumbles. “My ribs hurt. Jus’ let me be right.”

A watery laugh escapes you as you shake your head, cupping his bandaged face between your hands. “You’re really annoying sometimes, Katsuki.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes. “So are you. Still love you, though.”

“Me too,” you breathe, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “Love you so much.”

He pulls you back down against his chest again, rubbing your back as you listen to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. You trace small patterns into his shirt. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. And things are okay—they are not beyond repairing. You’ll inevitably annoy him tomorrow, and he’ll annoy you the day after that, but you’ll still work. You will still find a way to keep things good the way they always are.

After a few quiet moments, he mumbles, “Hey.” When you look up, he says, “When m’all healed and shit, you gotta force me to go grab ramen with my old man. On me.”

────────────────────────

Katsuki waits almost a month after being discharged from the hospital before he finally makes the call. He’s been trying to stall it for as long as possible, but Katsuki, even at the tender age of six, has always been a man (or boy) of his word. He’s standing alone on the balcony outside his apartment with his phone pressed to his ear, wondering if it’s too late to hang up before the call goes through.

It rings twice. Then his father’s voice is as gentle and cheery as ever. “Katsuki!” Masaru answers immediately. “Hi, son!”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey.”

His father laughs. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I got discharged, didn’t I? S’been a whole month.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re sounding just like your usual self,” his father says. Katsuki can hear the smile in his voice. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’.”

“Katsuki, you never call for just nothing.”

He groans, rubbing a hand over his face with a sigh—it’s now or never. He can’t keep stalling, and Katsuki is, and always has been, a man of his word. If he promised his father ramen over a stupid bet he made twenty years ago, then he’s going to get his father that ramen. Even if it kills his pride. Demolishes it, even.

“Listen, I was thinkin’...maybe we could grab food sometime.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Masaru hums. “Let me ask your mother when she’s free and—”

“Not the hag. S’just you,” he cuts in, rubbing at his temple.

“Oh?” Masaru sounds amused. “Well, okay. I suppose it’d be nice to spend some time as just father and son. What kind of food?”

Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose. Just say it. Just fuckin’ say it, his mind urges. Just rip the bandage off and say it. Say it. Say the damn word—he grits his teeth and forces out, “Ramen.”

There’s a pause on the other end. The silence stretches on long enough that Katsuki’s eye twitches.

“Ramen, huh?” Masaru finally says, and the way he says it makes a vein all but pop in Katsuki's forehead.

“Old man,” he says warningly, “don’t push it—”

He’s cut off when Masaru starts laughing. “I was wondering when this day would come.”

“Hah? You really kept that shit in your head for twenty years?”

“Of course I did. It was one of my favorite conversations I’ve ever had with you.”

“Why? ‘Cause you love bein’ fuckin’ right all the time?” Katsuki grumbles.

His father’s voice softens as he says fondly, “No. I just wanted you to find someone who made you as happy as your mother makes me. That’s all I wanted, son—for you to understand what being happy is like.”

The conversation is getting oddly sentimental, taking a turn that makes his chest feel strange, and his heart feel far too fragile. He hasn’t felt like this since after the war, and he doesn’t intend to sit with it any longer. So he mutters, “I still think Mom’s annoying. She yelled at me last week, so she never fuckin’ changes.”

Masaru laughs again. “No, she doesn’t.” Then, after a moment, “So, how does Saturday sound for some ramen?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“Will my son be paying?”

Katsuki regrets this call more than anything when he says, “Yes. I’m fuckin’ paying.”

“You know, son,” Masaru murmurs, making Katsuki pause, “I’m glad you get it now. You’ve grown into a fine man.”

Katsuki swallows hard. He turns, eyeing you as you sleep soundly in your shared bed, hugging his pillow to make up for his absence. He can only hope that his father’s words are true—that he is a fine man to you, the way his father always has been to his mother. His eyes never leave your figure as he mutters, “Yeah, well…s’not like I had a bad example or somethin’.”

it clicks when you're all at the beach, luxuriating in a hard-earned day off. it feels like a miracle that any schedules lined up, and even if only the three of you managed to find the time, it's enough. izuku feels so lucky, getting to spend the day with his two favorite people.

except, you're acting weird.

he's come to appreciate your blatant and shameless ogling whenever he's missing any modicum of clothing, so him being shirtless at the beach is resulting in downright lecherous behavior on your part. he sits between your knees, filtering sand through his fingers as you "apply sunscreen" to his back and practically drool on him as you run your fingers gleefully over every inch of exposed skin you can reach.

katsuki is returning to the car, retrieving the sunglasses he forgot to grab.

in his absence, you lean forward, curling your arms around izuku's neck and whispering filth in his ear; you're telling him exactly what you want to do when you get home later when your voice falters; izuku's head jerks up to see what's taken hold of your attention.

the culprit? katsuki, jogging towards the little corner of beach you've claimed. he stripped his shirt off somewhere between the car and here, and it's slung haphazardly over his shoulder; crimson eyes are hidden beneath dark shades.

two pulses quicken, two sets of eyes leering at katsuki's perfect form in fluid motion, but izuku only really notices yours, acutely aware of your heartbeat with the way you're all pressed against him.

"i– sorry, baby, what was i saying?" you ask, shaking (yes, shaking) your head to clear it.

"what?" he asks, eyes narrowing as he notices the faint blush dusting your cheeks, but you don't have time to answer because katsuki has reached you both, sparks flying from his hands as he crosses his arms over his chest in annoyance.

"all that time an' you're not done yet?" he scoffs. "this isn't a strip club, no one wants to see this shit in public." izuku rolls his eyes, used to the blonde's complaining, and you should be used to it, too... so when you let go and lean away from your boyfriend, he actually does a double take.

"whatever, katsuki." you mumble, "you're annoying."

and that's when the lightbulb above izuku's head clicks on, eyes widening as he glances between the two of you rapidly, subtly enough that neither of you seem to notice. 'you're annoying'?

he mulls over the words, turning them around and around.

...'you're annoying'...

finally, it feels like things are starting to become clearer. typically, when you tell izuku he's annoying, he has you folded in half, teasing and prodding at your patience – 'you're annoying' is what you say when you don't want to admit how hot and bothered you are.

he's deeply ashamed to admit that for the smallest, tiniest, half-second he wonders if there's something going on between his girlfriend and best friend. his face flushes royally at the thought and he clamps his hands over his cheeks to try and hide it.

katsuki notices first, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "you got a problem, deku?" he's intentionally employing his old favorite nickname, trying to make the blush darker.

izuku practically leaps for his water bottle, muttering some nonsense about overheating and drinking enough water and how actually everyone should remember to drink water, blah blah blah.

"just... gonna go refill this!" he says, already turning towards the restroom area with a drinking fountain.

"wait, love, mine is full–!" you call after him, but he waves you off, already several feet away and showing no signs of slowing.

"thanks baby, but you heard what i said, you should drink it! i'll... just, be right back! okay! bye!"

he's taking deep gulping breaths and trying not to break into a run. he just needs a second to himself, to slow his racing heartbeat and try and calm his thoughts before they spiral out of control.

the most important thing for him to remember right now is how much he trusts you and katsuki, intrinsically. he knows that neither of you would ever do a single thing that would betray him like that, so then....

why is his heart beating so fast?

it's hammering wildly in his chest, pushing him to walk faster and faster until he bursts into the public bathroom, heaving a sigh of relief when he sees it's empty. he beelines for the sink, turning it on and splashing the cold water on his face.

okay, he needs to think everything through logically.

objectively, there is something going on, although he doesn't think you're doing anything intentionally, especially because nothing between the two of you has changed, your relationship as strong as ever.

he hates even considering it, but it's pretty much impossible for you to lie to him; he can read you like a book, so it must be some subconscious feeling you aren't fully aware of yet.

alright, so what is 'it'?

you, and kacchan... you, and kacchan....?

you and kacchan.

he covers his mouth with his hand and whispers, "oh my gosh." laughs, too, and rubs his eyes with both palms like he's trying to force himself to understand.

you like katsuki. well, that isn't certain, but you're definitely attracted to him, so much so that you've clearly developed a little crush.

izuku leans against the sink, just... processing the wide range of emotions that flood him. initially, there's an old and familiar ache, jealousy twinged with something else churning in his gut. but, if he thinks about it, what is there to be jealous of? you're his, that's something that he's very sure of, so there's no need to worry about losing you or something, not that kacchan would even try and.. what, take you?

izuku groans and starts pacing, trying to snap himself out of it. maybe he's just overreacting!

but he knows, deep down, that he's on the right track. now he has to figure out the reason the blush on his face hasn't died down in the slightest, why his pulse still races.

you and kacchan.

you, and kacchan.

oh.

the final piece of the puzzle has been placed now, the bigger picture clearly visible, and he stops his pacing to catch sight of himself in the dirty mirror above the sink; eyes wide, skin ruddy, hair out of sorts from the way he's been tugging on it.

is he turned on right now?

all it takes to confirm is a glance down, and he gasps when he realizes he's rock hard, this fact somehow completely passing him by as he sorted through his thoughts.

thoughts which are now changing pace wildly, shifting to something izuku deems to be completely inappropriate, and he tries splashing some water on his face again, but it doesn't help in the slightest.

"fuck," he mutters under his breath, tugging at the waistband of his swim shorts to try and give himself a little relief, but the movement does the opposite, has him biting back a guilty moan as he really lets this sink in.

the thought of you and kacchan, together... he's seething with a different kind of jealousy now, jealousy directed towards the fantasy he himself has concocted, wanting to be... included? that, and the fact that you find katsuki attractive is turning him on more than he wants to admit to himself.

before he can stop, he's stumbling into a stall, slamming it shut and leaning against it in one fell swoop. he tugs his weeping cock out of it's confinement and palms it, a shudder passing through him at the contact.

he bites his lip when he realizes who exactly is on his mind right now, as in which two people.

"oh, fuck fuck fuck," he mumbles again, slicking his length with the ample pre that pours over his fingers.

it's almost humiliating, that his immediate reaction to the realization he and his partner both have feelings for his best friend is to furiously jerk himself off in a bathroom stall, but he's too locked in to really register the feeling, or care.

a breathy whine leaves his mouth as he increases the speed and pressure, circling his tip with his thumb. he's close, really close, surprisingly close, and the thought of you so entranced by katsuki just a moment ago has him reeling.

even more, the thought of you pressed between the two men, pretty little dynamight bracelet dangling from your wrist as two hands grasp at you from either side, the thought of pressing against you, leaning over to shove his tongue down katsuki's throat... the thought of all that touching and feeling.... izuku reaches desperately for a fistful of tissue to help prevent the mess he's about to make, pressing his forehead to the cool door of the stall and cumming, hard; trying somewhat unsuccessfully to strangle the whispered cry of your's and katsuki's names.

he just stands there for a second, breathing finally slowing a bit, blinking back to reality. he silently wipes himself off with a little more tissue, then throws it all away, tugging his waistband back up and trying to collect himself before he exits the stall.

when he'd entered the restroom, maybe five or ten minutes ago at this point, it had been empty, but it is not empty now. katsuki leans against the entrance door's frame silently, arms crossed with a smug expression written all over his face.

"was wonderin' what was takin' so long," he says simply, letting the tension in the air build and build. izuku just stares at him for a long moment, trying to analyze his stance, maybe guess at how much he had heard. clearly, he'd heard something.

but katsuki says nothing, instead choosing to saunter further into the space, eyes roaming over izuku's ruffled appearance. "feel better?" he asks.

"yes..." izuku answers slowly, cautiously. he doesn't elaborate, doesn't ask any questions; the look on katsuki's face says everything he would want to know, anyway. he carefully walks towards the door, only turning around when katsuki starts to softly call his name.

"just–" he gently cuts him off, green eyes meeting red ones imploringly, "let me talk to her first, okay?" they seem to have some sort of unspoken argument then and there, staring, holding back and straining forward at the same time.

finally, katsuki breaks first, shrugs and moves to follow izuku back to the beach, back to you. his shoulder brushes into izuku's as he passes him, and he glances back to watch the former gaze at the spot of contact with wide eyes, then look up again with a tiny, almost undetectable smirk of his own.

izuku swaps the smirk for a serene smile as he leans forward and ruffles katsuki's hair with a chuckle, much to the chagrin of the blonde.

"hah?" katsuki exclaims, finally fighting a blush of his own as izuku exits the bathroom, emerging into the sunlight.

"c'mon, kacchan," he calls. as they walk back to the sand together, he adds, "and really, not one word, okay?" his tone is lilted, a little too flowery, a little too sweet; katsuki's known him long enough to hear the very real warning underneath.

"whatever, nerd," he mutters, rolling his eyes, but the rosiness of his cheeks gives him away.

back by the water, you're growing bored as you wait for the boys to return. you've taken to tracing shapes in the damp sand, drawing little doodles of hearts and stars.

"oi, he's fine," you hear, and look up sharply, features breaking into a radiant smile when you see them returning to you. izuku runs over to scoop you in his arms and plant a messy kiss against your cheek, while katsuki hangs back, just watching. when you wave at him enthusiastically, he smiles, raising his own hand in response.

"need to talk to you about something," izuku whispers in your ear when he sets you down on your feet delicately, and you turn and look at him, head tilted as you wait for him to go on. "but, later, at home, okay?" he continues, smiling sweetly to let you know it isn't anything bad.

you nod slowly, confused but trusting him wholeheartedly. "okay...?"

"m'sick of third wheeling," katsuki groans loudly, interrupting, and you coo at him as you plop on to your towel, stretching and laying back to bathe in the sun.

"aw, kacchan, do you feel left out?" you ask, patting the towel beside you to gesture him over.

izuku coughs, loudly, and another blush starts creeping it's way up katsuki's neck.

"somethin' like that," he murmurs, coming over to sit in the spot you're indicating.

"yeah," izuku quips, sliding down next to you on the other side, sharing a quick, knowing glance with katsuki over the top of your head. "something like that."

٠࣪⭑ a/n: fun little challenge! how many times did mia use the nickname "kacchan" in this fic? (answer: so, so many) anyway, i think we’re gonna see more of these three. as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated!