They Need To Add Two Extra Hours After Ten Pm Where Time Doesn't Pass So You Can Do Some Nice Reading

Pro-hero BAKUGO with his own agency obsessing over his new sweet perfect little assistant, just needing to have her all to himself, the JELAOUSY

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: nsfw, misogyny, yandere, obsession, dubcon/noncon, profanity, abuse of power, delusional thoughts, uhm slight mommy kink kinda

♡ FEM reader

Wants & Needs

Bakugo stormed towards the elevator.

Not letting the sliding doors of the entrance to his agency slow him down. Making a dedicated beeline towards his office on the sky-floor.

Anyone else would have thought he was grumpy as per usual, therefor keeping their distance. But like always, it didn't stop Kirishima.

"I don't want another wide-eyed snivelling slutty ditzy assistant, Shitty-hair." The explosion-hero grumbled in the elevator.

Still visibly pissed off that he wasn't allowed to simply explode his way to the top where he was reduced to wasting a whole two minutes standing still. Forced to listen to the makeshift red-head's yapping whining on about what he can and can't do, what he must and mustn't, what he needs and needn't, what's best of him and what's best for him. With a thousand means to no end.

"Give her a try-" The red-head pushed in a drawl.

Having only barely lost any of the enthusiasm he started off with when they were on the first floor.

"I heard she’s supposed to be great!" He beamed.

His teeth shiny like razors in his mouth.

"And pretty."

Bakugo didn't even bother giving him a glance. Rolling his eyes beneath his eyelids. The toothy smile of his friend and coworker too bright an annoying light to face in the morning.

"I don't understand why you bother..." He sighed.

The ash-blonde allowed himself to calm down, knowing it was about another minute left in the tight space, and how no one else could hear his crude words, nor the insecurity hidden in them.

"If it’s a lady she’s gonna be too sensitive anyway." He mumbled.

He always sent them crying. This one would be no different.

"One; you’re the one who’s too insensitive." Kirishima stated, having his finger raised, another bony-knuckled digit following, marking his additional argument. "And two; that’s wicked misogynistic, Bakugo."

"It’s been true so far." The ash-blonde grumped.

"Yeah, but please don't say that shit in front of anyone but me, yeah?" He urged. "At least not when we reach the top floor."

Katsuki turned to look at him for the first time that morning.

"What's on the top floor?"

He did not look amused.

Kirishima twirled his fingers innocently, mouth parting dumbly as he slowly began answering the question in demand.

"Well... I might have gone and taken the liberty of hiring you a new assistant-"

"Fucking dammit, Kiri, I told you! I don't want a new assistant!" The pro-hero groaned, whining like a child only with the growl of a man, trying to keep his breath calm while carding his fingers through his hair, yanking on it, feeling the need to rip it from his scalp to hold himself back from punching the apologetic smile off of Kirishima's face.

"Man, you need one!" The red-head defended with a breezy laugh, seemingly dusting his friend's rage off like it was nothing.

Katsuki only grunted in return, shaking his head, sighing. Giving Kirishima the cold-shoulder. Knowing that if he opened his mouth to say anything now, it would be far from pretty.

He instead opted for reducing his anger to mere growling and brooding for the remaining minute stuck beside the pest that was his bothersome friend.

"You'll love her." The sturdy-hero insisted, putting his fists to his hips while puffing up his chest, chin raised in a way that told Bakugo he couldn't be told otherwise.

The brute huffed as he folded his arms back over his chest, wordlessly disagreeing. Looking up with glaring alarm-red eyes to the lit numbers above the door while tapping his combat-boot-wearing foot loudly against the floor, frustrated with how Kirishima stood beside him optimistically drumming his fingers on his thigh to the beat of the brain-rotting elevator-music, yet slightly uplifted to see he was closer to being allowed to lock himself away in his office and stay there unbothered by the likes of pesky meddling friends and dumb fragile assistants.

.

She stood there, awkwardly awaiting her new boss where the bare-chested hero had left her to go receive him.

Kirishima was nice. A type of friendly she knew she shouldn't be expecting from the explosion-hero.

Which is why her palms were sweating so embarrassingly much, making her wipe them down her skirt, also in an effort to straighten it, where the ding of the elevator only aided in making her heart skip along faster, looking down to see if her blouse was still perfectly situated.

She swallowed her anxiety as the two men neared her, trying to wipe her face free of timidity, knowing how such fragility would not survive here, in Pro-hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight's Agency.

She decided she would be the one to initiate the handshake, wanting to make a strong first impression, the intent almost leading to her leaping forward into the man.

"Hie! I'm-"

But her offered hand was disregarded before she could do as much as finish her introduction.

Without giving her so much as a glance, the tall muscular male didn't even slow down, but continued to walk straight past her, leaving her only one curt cruel comment.

"Listen, kid, I don't need another snivelling crybaby getting tears in my coffee. Don't bother unpacking." He grouched, cutting her off, trying to stomp off in direction of his office, yet stopped by the other male who had his mouth gaping in disbelief at his charmless friend.

"He doesn't mean that." Kirishima rushed to assure. "He really needs you-" He tried defending, but apparently it wasn't needed.

She was ambitious to prove she could handle herself.

"I'll be sure to put a lid on the cup, sir." She made her voice sound cool and unbothered, face relaxing nonchalantly though still with a small soft smile to compliment her pretty face.

Bakugo gaze went from glaring at the red-head to offering the snippy thing a side-look.

Kirishima looked stunned for a moment too before giving a loud grin, eyes glinting.

"See? She can handle you!" He nearly shouted, enthusiastically giving Bakugou a punch to his shoulder. "Come with me! I'll help you settle in."

The man placed a massive gravely hand to the small of her back, guiding her, taking her box from her without asking in order to carry it for her.

She would tell him she could manage on her own, but she'd already come to terms with his slightly domineering acts of manliness and opted for simply smiling in gratitude instead of going full feminist on his out-dated acts of chivalry. It was only her first day after all.

"You'll be primarily Bakugo's assistant and receptionist-" The muscular male started explaining, taking large steps she struggled to parallel as he ushered her forward. "But, to be completely honest with you, you'll probably have to be a bit of a babysitter and maid as well..."

The ash-blonde gave a sigh as he stalked on, leaving Kirishima to take care of the new office pretty addition, not happy with how his friend was describing him, yet not bothered enough to stop him.

"He's very needy, lazy in a sense, he can't be bothered with fixing his calendar and getting his coffee, addressing the public and that sorta thing, so you'll take care of it for him." The sturdy-hero continued informing as he walked her to the glass desk placed lonely outside Bakugo's transparent office.

"Of course-" She nodded her head, listening and agreeing. "I'm here to make his life easier."

"Exactly!" Kirishima said with a smile. "I knew you were perfect!"

Bakugo shook his head with little thrill.

Kirishima said that about every assistant he'd gone and hired on his behalf.

He looked at her before closing the door to his office, analysing what he saw with an uninterested face, taking in her straight posture, standing there like a doll with her knees together, hands folded over her lap, nodding her head pliantly to Kirishima's every word.

He allowed for his scarlet-eyes to judge.

Mundane pencil-skirt, tight-fitted yet appropriate, reaching just beneath her knees, showing off calves but nothing more as her boots hid her ankles. It was the first time he'd seen a woman in an office without stilettos or any other annoyingly loud power-heel on. Her blouse was modest too, no see-through fabric, no bright pop colour, no cleavage, just boring rose-beige reaching up beneath a set of pretty collarbones and an un-necklaced throat.

Pretty in a plain sort of way.

If she was wearing makeup, it couldn't have been much. But her lips had a certain shine to them. Not much colour sept for natural, but glossy in a way making them look pillowy and soft.

He made a note of how she wasn't dressed like a slut, how she looked nothing like those other assistants that came before her, who curled their hair to crispy meanders bouncing as they fake-laughed, with pink manicured nails curling around Kirishima's bulging biceps as he flirted with them.

Fucking disgusting.

He's pretty sure the red-head had banged about every bratty bitchy lazy assistant he's had, knowing how the toothy moron has it as some type of wager with himself, a goal to make each dumb pretty-girl even dumber on his dick.

This one looked sweet though.

Not at all like some brain-dead plastic bimbo hoping to be swept up by a sugar-daddy, or a power-hungry manipulative bitch looking for fame and publicity.

This one simply looked happy to be there.

No ulterior motives sept to do her job.

He nearly felt bad for her, knowing how his dumb-as-a-rock friend was going to abuse his popularity yet again and play her like a football match; first base, second base, third base, and home run, only to then kick her to the curb. Leave her as a crazy ex-girlfriend, bitter and sour with a thirst for vengeance, or a brokenhearted mess, whiny and snotty with mascara streaming down her face, ending up just a complete ghost in a shell, featherbrained and simply useless. Making him do the dirty work of firing a poor snivelling mess only because his stupid friend couldn't control his sadistic carnal urges.

Bakugo sighed.

With just one more glance, he clicked his tongue and huffed, closing his door with a mumble.

"She'll be gone before the week's up."

.

First day went by without speaking to the boss, but she was adamant on making a change the day after.

Realising she couldn't expect him to meet her halfway, she recognised how he needed her to do most of the talking and approaching all on her own.

So, she ran her hands through her hair a couple more times like a comb, straightened her skirt and fixed her blouse, cradled her tablet in her arm for quick easy note-taking and pulled her bag onto the other shoulder.

Holding the boss' coffee in one hand, she took a deep breath and knocked on his door with the other.

He made a grunt, which could have just as easily meant go away instead of enter, but she decided on the latter.

"Good morning, sir."

She trotted inside the spacious office, allowing for just one brief moment to take in the breath-robbing panoramic-view of the entire skyline of Tokyo city shown through his curtain-windows. Refraining from gulping at the vastness of it all as she placed his cup down on the clear glass of his desk.

"Coffee, snack, newspaper, agenda for the day." She listed, placing each item down neatly on his desk, having organised and printed out his schedule the day prior in order to come in prepared.

Feeling slightly like she was baby-sitting. Rethinking the snack, as it might have been a touch too much, giving he was a grown man and not a toddler. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling he'd either skimmed or hadn't gotten his full-amount of breakfast in the morning. Her sixth-sense telling her he needed it.

The man didn't look up, busy studying his gauntlet, visibly struggling with cleaning out the insides of his gloves, however taking a second to reach towards the newspaper, face scrunched in concentration and mild frustration.

She'd picked up the inkling feeling that he preferred the paper-version news above the electronic kind. Something that seemed to prove as true, as he wordlessly started flipping the pages.

Understanding she wouldn't be getting much more of a reply, she continued explaining the agenda.

"Pro-hero Deku filed to have your ten o'clock meeting moved down to twelve. He's awaiting our reply."

Short, sweet and impersonal is what she'd decided the best tactic when speaking to her new boss, leaving all pleasant but unnecessary chit-chat in the dust.

"Tell him to fuck off." He mumbled, still not looking up, however apparently listening.

Where which she, without much hesitance, replied.

"Sure thing, I'll proceed to tell the number-one-hero to fuck off." She repeated, scribbling down the note on her tablet. "I'm sure he'll understand the meeting will be held at ten like originally scheduled, and no later."

At least she doesn't cry over curse-words. Bakugo thought, pretending to read with an unfazed expression on his face.

She brought him a snack? That's kind of weird. No other assistant had ever done that... but he was hungry.

Strange she knows how he prefers things in a physical form, both the newspaper and the schedule printed out instead of e-mailed to him.

Kirishima had probably shared the knowledge.

He reached for the coffee, making a note how it wasn't poured in some flimsy plastic or paper cup, but a glass mug, just the way he likes it.

Her and Kirishima must have been talking about him for a real long good while for her to know all this about him. Or, maybe it was just all on her whim.

That seemed unlikely.

But still, even with Kirishima's guidance, it was impressive how everything had gone strangely perfect so far.

He put the cup to his lips, taking a sip.

What the.... hell?

The coffee tasted different. Good, but different.

But... really good.

"The HPSC has filed for a call at two-" She continued, not noticing the puzzlement hidden beneath his gruff expression, too occupied with quietly studying his fairly barren office, noting how it was just his desk and a bookshelf and an absurd amount of empty space. "But I believe I can handle the meeting on my own where we're most likely to discuss your public face." She offered, getting a feeling he didn't enjoy discussing trivial maters on call with a room full of suits. "I could tell them to fuck off as well, but I suggest we offer something that'll ease their worries."

Bakugo scoffed.

"Who the fuck knows what they want? Nothing's ever enough for those asshats."

He nearly chugged the rest of the coffee after his statement, setting the cup down with a bang on the glass table-top, going back to tweaking at the gauntlet leaking oil all over his desk.

She noticed the mess. Dirty clean-wipes scattered everywhere as though he were sick, but clearly made dirty by grease, crumpled and tossed aside when no longer useful.

Cringing, she decided to walk about and pick up after him while speaking, feeling awkward simply standing there.

"I could tell them that you're willing to colab more with pro-hero Deku."

He made a sound, but she decided to push on, dumping a sum of a dozen clean-wipes into the trashcan beside his desk.

"Unlike you, the public adores him. And lucky for you, he seems to adore you." She explained, fishing a new container of clean-wipes form her bag, placing it on his desk. "I would think giving the media a piece of your upbringing as childhood friends to rivals to coworkers will be an easy way of giving your likability a boost."

He scoffed, reaching for the fresh wipes she'd placed down in front of him, pulling out a handful to rub away the sweat of his quirk smeared on the insides and clogging up the mechanism of his gauntlet.

"Deku'd get a real fucking hard-on if I ever agreed to some pussy-shit like that."

She didn't pay his swears any mind.

"It's just a thought. Perhaps something you can bring up at your ten o'clock meeting if you change your mind on the matter." She professionally dismissed his unprofessional choice of words. "I'll think of other less crucial options that you might favor until then."

She made some more notes on her pad before continuing.

"Other than that, Red Riot wished to relay a message: he's taking the one to five patrol, and requested you take the morning. I have already made arrangements for another hero to take on the patrol between nine and one where you'll be caught in your meeting with pro-hero Deku. I can do further arrangements to clear up your entire day if you wish to prepare-"

"Nah, I'll do it." He cut her off, standing up and stretching with a yawn. "Anything else people need from me today?"

He grabbed the snack, ripping loose the paper before stuffing his face.

She watched the crumbs fall to the floor and made a mental reminder to vacuum while he was out.

"Not at this moment, but I'll be sure to let you know-"

"Fine. Leave." Mouth full as he ordered, giving a half-hearted swat of his hand in the direction of the door, shooing her off as though she were a bug buzzing about him.

She didn't take offence, rather finding her first day going off to quite the good start seeing how he hadn't yelled at her yet.

"I'll see you at nine, sir."

She turned, walking off just the way she came, opening and closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Bakugo watched her go.

That wasn't terrible.

.

"Fuck's this?" Was the first thing the boss said as soon as he walked into his office.

Back from his patrol, pointing a straight finger to the steaming cup on his desk while she was busy organising the documents stuffed hap-hazardously into the bookshelf, fixing the scotch bottles and glasses that laid hidden behind trash and other documents, fan mail and gifts she'd taken the liberty of opening, most of them written and drawn by little kids.

Looking back over her shoulder, she answered.

"Tea."

Refraining from turning around completely to acknowledge him, otherwise busy dusting the shelves.

"I ain't ask for tea." He grumbled, ridding his arms of his already dirty gauntlets on the table she'd just finished rubbing clean.

Where regardless of the unholy sight, she didn't let herself fret.

"Your nerves are static, tea will smooth them over before Pro-hero Deku arrives." She explained, finishing up with the bookshelf, turning around, taking in the muddled look on his face. "You needn't drink it, I just thought I'd give you the option of..."

She wanted to find a better word for it, but figured the straightforward boss probably favoured straightforwardness.

"A sound mind."

She picked her bag from the floor, and started heading out.

"Drink, if you wish, I'll go see to it that the conference room is-"

"What's this for?"

She stopped at his additional interruption, looking back to see him lifting the suit she'd picked from the dresser beneath the bookshelf, dusted free of rubble and other dirt, ironed to perfection by herself just half an hour before he arrived.

"The suit?"

She tilted her head to the side, looking puzzled.

"Well... it's a business meeting."

She looked him up and down, smog coating his otherwise tan sand-coloured skin, some small cuts still bleeding red.

Her brows furrowed.

"You weren't planning on going like this, were you?"

Her finger pointed at him, bobbing at his hero get-up, trashed and tethered and in no way presentable.

"I ain't dressing up for Deku." He spit the name, and she sighed and rolled her eyes at him.

"Think of it this way."

She threw her hands up in a wordless request for him to hear her out.

"One picture."

She looked him in the eye, needing to make sure he was listening, even though he'd hadn't proved himself to be one that doesn't pay attention.

"One lousy picture on Pro-hero Deku's Snapchat feed or Instagram or Facebook of the two of you in suits would do wonders to your reputation."

It was Bakugo's turn to sigh now, groaning out in exasperation.

"Don't get me wrong-" She defended quickly, noticing him slipping on his focus, needing to reel him back in. "Greasy sweaty pictures of you and Pro-hero Red Riot grant you many fans. The media loves your bromance, but that would double if you prove yourself civilised and friendly to the number-one-hero." She argued, fishing for his agreement, feeling as though she was loosing him to his irritation. "He talks of you constantly, how you were the inspiration for his hero-name, how you made him the man he is today-"

"I ain't gonna freeload of Deku's cheesy poster-boy smile." He insisted, throwing the suit to the desk and plopping down like a sack in his chair.

She huffed, small fists balling at her sides, not ready to give up and not done stating her case. Stomping up to him.

"That's not what you would be doing." She denied. "As it stands right now, the way the public view you is as a bully who cares only for one thing-" She chastised. "But sit down with Pro-hero Deku, he'll ask for a picture, like he always does, probably an autograph as well, and all you need is just grin that trademark smirk that have the girls go weak in the knees and suddenly all of Japan will know that there are plenty of sides to pro-hero Dynamight aside from being an explosive in the field."

She picked up the suit so it wouldn't wrinkle, hanging it on the minimalistic mute servant by the door.

"Furthermore, the HPSC will get off your back and won't get back on it, because that one picture with Deku will have such ripple-effects in your carrier that no one can chastise you for being too scary or unapproachable or-"

"Fine." He stopped her rambling, seeing her point. "Where exactly am I supposed to change?" He had an attitude about his tone stating he didn't really enjoy being forced to see reason, despite it being for his own good.

"First-"

She picked up the remote she'd found stuffed in one of the drawers of the bookshelf, forgotten in the mess, clicking on the button she'd found out opened up for a built-in shower at the corner of the office.

"Shower."

She pointed like a strict mother, or a master ordering her dog around.

"You expect me to shower in front of the entire office?" He asked, tone rather childish in its aggressive sarcasm.

But she only giggled at his attitude, clicking another button on the remote he had no idea controlled anything more but the lights.

"I'll leave you to it."

The blinds rolled over all four of his window walls, the office carpeted and the lights of Tokyo city snuffed out, his glass-cage turned into a blackbox, dim moody lights brightening on their own.

She placed the remote on his desk and turned to leave.

"Call on me if you need help with your tie, sir."

Why did she have to say that?

Almost as though she knows he couldn't tie one even if his life depended on it.

.

He hates wearing suits.

Too tight and constricting, too easy to rip.

And warm and sweaty.

The cotton and wool doesn't breathe enough.

And it's loud.

The polyester-lining swishing and rubbing when he walks.

It's the same type of embarrassing as when girls wear heals that echo through the hallways with each pounding step.

He felt like a fucking show-pony.

An uncomfortable show-pony at that.

He thought of his assistant. How it had only been a day and she was already forcing him to act like some bloody dance-monkey, and succeeding no less.

Why the fuck was he taking advice from some brat in boots anyway?

Dressing up for a dipshit like Deku just because she told him to?

What the fuck has happened?

What the fuck did she put in that tea?

Calm his nerves?

What the fuck does that even mean?

He's always calm! He's never not calm!

He's the fucking definition of calm!

He stormed out, but stopped immidiatly at the giggling behind his door.

"So, any plans for the weekend?"

Kirishima sat on her desk, bright smile plastered on his face, the one that makes people feel as though they can tell him anything, as though they can trust him with their deepest darkest secrets.

"Why yes, actually." She replied, small secretive smile curling her lips, making her dimples pop.

"Hmm, let me guess..." The red-head chuckled a playful light-hearted laugh, wiggling his brows at her. "Sweet-pea goin' on a date?"

She gave am impressed look, mouth slightly parting before giving him a smile.

"How'd you know?"

"My excellent people-reading-skills." He boasted with a grin, before leaning down to her level, voice significantly lower, the voice Bakugo had heard him use too many times on countless poor unsuspecting ladies, each one hanging off his words like moths to fire, so quickly to burn themselves. "You've been smiling to yourself all day."

Her face flushed.

"Have I really?" She hurried out in a whisper, eyes timid like a baby-deer, bashfully looking down at her lap. "Is it that obvious?"

Dorks are so fucking cute.

Kirishima had to stop himself from licking his lips.

"You're cute, getting flustered like a schoolgirl."

The goofy smile on his face turned sharper and sharper, almost amounting to that hungry smirk Bakugo knew always lied in wait like a predator, waiting for the moment he felt he'd played enough with his prey.

"Been a while, buttercup?"

He saw the way Kirishima's eyes gleamed, thrilled and basking in making the little assistant squirm, flustered and embarrassed by his questions and flirty devil-eyes.

"No..." She said sheepishly, obviously lying, but Kirishima just found that cuter.

"But this one's different?" He pried, adoring the way she pressed her knees together beneath the clear glass of the desk, toes pointed inward at each other meekly.

"I don't know..."

Her smile was gone, eyes shy under Kirishima's domineering charisma, resisting the urge to bite her lip.

But someone had heard enough of their conversation to allow it to continue.

"Keep your fucking personal life to yourself." Bakugo barked, announcing himself, rescuing her from getting caught on Kirishima's teeth.

"Wow, Bakugo, dude-" The red-head feigned innocence, but Bakugo gave him a look.

"You got that?"

He looked to the girl who wore an expression that seemed oddly happy to see him, relieved in some sense.

"Yes, sir." She nodded, feeling her heart slow to its normal pace.

"And quit taking up Kirishima's time, he's got better shit to do than flirt with you."

He seemed angry, but she remained bright nonetheless.

"Of course, sir."

Red Riot rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face, throwing his head back with a laugh.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"I ain't fucking around, Shitty-hair." The boss bit out through grit teeth. "If you're gonna stay at my agency, you gotta make yourself useful." Bakugo's voice was gruff and final, words spoken in a tone no one would ever dare defy.

All except Kirishima, of course.

"Grouchy ouchy." He commented, pushing himself off the assistant's desk with an unbothered chuckle. Giving her a wink while flashing a grin, eyes seeming a deeper more bloody shade of red than before. "See yah."

She only gave a stiff smile in return, finding the male's disregard for her personal space less and less charming for every moment she was caught alone, forced to share intimate moments with him, watching his mask chip and flake away, revealing the man she got the unsettling feeling had less pearly-white ulterior motives lurking behind that perfected pearly-white smile on his face.

"You." Her boss's piercing voice cut her from her thoughts, making her take her eyes off the retreating muscular back of the topless hero.

Gaze snapping to the tall broad figure still standing in the threshold to his office, groomed free of his usual coat of battle-rubble and instead clad in a velvet-red silk-shirt, oblivion-black vest hugging him perfectly, tailored to perfection with vines of pale-roses adorning the sides.

His scarred calloused hand gripped onto the complimentary tie in visible frustration.

"Tie this."

She sprung to her feet, pondering whether or not she should thank him for chasing the rowdy red-head away, but decided not to, while fingering the soft silk-tail to his tie.

She needed to tip back and forth on her heels and toes in order to get the height on him, still whole heads shorter, arms reaching almost as though she were to embrace him as she swung the tie around the back of his neck.

And, with having tied a couple hundred ties in her life, she made to look up instead of focusing on her handiwork.

"Your hair does that naturally?" She asked, viewing the way it had already poofed to all corners all without being gelled or blown with a hairdryer.

Looking explosive.

"Like a Pomeranian." She commented, getting the feeling he needed a distraction, where between being stuffed into a suit and awaiting the number-one-hero he seemed far too tense for her to simply ignore.

He made a grunt, but she swore his face softened just a bit. The knot set deep between his brows loosening, his gaze set forward, skimming the top of her head as she looped his tie once then twice.

"Don't ever say shit like that again."

A giggle bubbled from her throat as she smiled up at him.

"Of course, sir."

Tweaking his tie to sit perfectly beneath the collar of his burgundy shirt, brushing his shoulders down when she was done.

"I meant a proud lion, obviously."

It was disarming having someone other than the likes of Kirishima and the devil himself be so calm around him, especially a person who wasn't even a hero, especially a woman.

A small cute woman who brought him snacks and tied his tie for him, who compared him to a cuddly fluffy couch-dog the size of a football and teased him when his pride was hurt by it.

He refrained from swallowing or coughing or stuttering on his words when she caught him staring at her for just a moment too long.

He looked off to the side, serious frown returning.

"What time is it?" He grumbled.

"The current time is nine forty-eight." She answered while walking to retrieve his jacket that was left back in his office, stopping abruptly in her tracks.

The floor was absolutely flooded.

He certainly hadn't bothered trying to maintain the water to one part of the giant space, but rather spread it out to every which corner of the room.

He observed as she tiptoed about the puddles on the floor, manoeuvring to reach his desk in her cute flat-heeled boots, small delicate hands reaching for the last edition to his suit.

Again looking to the floor to avoid slipping and falling on her butt, smiling once having made it back safely to the threshold of the door.

He was half-waiting for her to throw the jacket around his shoulders and help him into it, taking a moment longer than what he was proud of to receive it as she handed it to him.

He tread on the jacket by himself, but the nitpicky assistant followed shortly, coming to his aid with smoothing and straightening it over his shoulders and sleeves, pulling forth a pair of cufflinks she'd kept safe in the pocket to her bag, attaching them to decorate his wrists.

"You have about ten minutes before pro-hero Deku arrives."

He groaned, carding his warm hands through his still damp locks in hope to dry them faster.

With closed eyes he sighed, wanting to go punch something, but with the tiny assistant standing right there, so intimately close, and smelling so enticingly good while looking so adorable and pleased with her handiwork, he didn't want to disappoint her with ripping or ruining his suit with scorch marks.

So, he opted for a less nuclear option.

"What animal is he?"

Her eyes widened as she peered up at him, his question muttered but still clear, causing her smile to widen.

"Animal?"

She gave a false puzzled look.

"He's no animal... Green hair? He's obviously a vegetable."

Giggling, she kept tampering with the suit, making it sit perfectly, touching him so softly he wished she wouldn't touch him at all with how much he was beginning to sweat under her gentle hands stroking delicate touches over his tense and abused muscles, being so fearlessly careless around him despite his reputation for being a temperamental asshole, where aside from that, additionally, she was also doing something so daring as mothering her own bloody boss.

"Something between a celery and a broccoli." She mused. "Though-" She giggled, and his heart seemed to stutter in his ribcage at how endearing he found the fruitful sound. "There was this one time he'd been on vacation and came back looking like a carrot."

Bakugo cracked on smile.

"That fucking idiot." He laughed.

The boss was laughing.

And it wasn't at all in the same gut-wrenching manor the other pro-hero had chuckled when squeezing her thigh.

Sure, Pro-hero Dynamight was rough around the edges and a bit colourful with his language, but he was by no means the raging demon others had made him out to be.

She was left smiling like a goof, feeling as though she'd fully completely and utterly crushed it on her first real day as Mr. Bakugo's new assistant.

.

She walked on ahead, taking the express elevator straight to the bottom-floor in order to guide Deku to the destination of the meeting, having told Bakugo to go along with Kirishima to the conference-room.

"The fuck was that about?" Kirishima asked with his normal jockish attitude, dressed in a grey suit and a black shirt, wearing his signature apologetic toothy grin, having his hands up in defence as he followed Bakugo into the elevator.

Annoyed, he didn't bother giving the red-head a glance, standing strictly straight, eyes locked on the closing elevator doors, hands balled at his sides, a growl in his tone as he spoke.

"Keep it in your pants for once, will yah?"

Kirishima cocked his head, looking at his friend slyly.

"So... you finally like the assistant I picked out for you?"

He had that playful tone of voice that Bakugo hated, the one that was always so adamant on embarrassing him.

"She's fine." He answered curtly, still with his focus on the clean view of Tokyo city through the glass walls of the elevator.

"Cute too." The red-head pushed, just like he always did.

Pushing his buttons, pushing his temper, pushing his sanity.

"Don't you think?"

The ash-blonde could hear the type of salacious, almost sadistic, mockery kept on Kirishima's tongue, how it seemed to drip with venom, those sharp teeth waiting to spot a weakness, only to pounce and sink them in deep.

"I guess." Bakugo offered, knowing ignoring the red-head was just as much use as indulging him, thinking that keeping his words short and arbitrary would help put an end to his friend's bloodlust.

But alas, the curt answer was more than enough to have the stars in Kirishima's red eyes go supersonic.

Kirishima smirked.

"Come on..."

The boss was stupid if he thought the sturdy-hero was going to let his obvious lack of dislike towards the pretty little helper go on unchecked.

"You're subtle but I see you."

His grin glinted, eyes shining with an eager will to tease.

"The way you look her up and down when she isn't looking."

Kirishima chuckled.

"I always knew you were a momma's boy."

Bakugo sighed with a rust, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to tune the mocking jeering of the stubborn rowdy male out of his mind, hoping to grab onto the calm he felt after talking to the assistant. The laughter of making fun of Deku now tainted by his own friend pulling his leg.

"You love seeing her clean up after you. Pick out your clothes, give you snacks... bet you wanna button up that blouse, give her tits a suck."

"For fuck's sake, Kiri, would you shut up?" The ash-blonde snapped and turned, brows set deep on his face, eyes narrowed to mere red slits as he glared at the grinning asshole he was stuck with.

"I worry about you, man!" Kirishima said in defence, worn hand coming to pet the seething threatening angry blonde's face, with no concern for being bitten, pinching and pulling on the chub of his cheek with a smile. "It's not natural to be this good looking and not fuck."

Bakugo pushed him off with a hand grabbing his collar, a snarl on his lips like the face of a wolf.

"Maybe I just ain't a hyperactive hormonic spaz like you." He seethed, letting him go with another shove.

"Yeah yeah, insult me all you want, you angry dandelion..."

Kirishima pulled himself off the glass-wall, still bearing his smile.

"But you know I'm right."

He straighten his tie and pulled on his jacket to flatten the wrinkles made by Bakugo's split-second hands-on anger.

"She's perfect for you, man. Sweet and nice, smart and tough, cute as a fucking button, and so professional, so eager to please..." The red-head listed, trying to get another rise out of the explosion-hero. "I mean... could you imagine her down on her knees-"

"Stop." Bakugo's voice was definite, carrying the type of tone that made goosebumps spring to the surface, but as usual had no effect on the sturdy-hero.

"Oh, so you have already?" He teased, smiling knowingly.

"I'm this close to punching you, Shitty-hair."

Bakugo showed two fingers that were touching, but his threats hadn't spooked Kirishima in a long time.

"I'm just calling 'em like I see 'em." The red-head said, knowing they were as thick as thieves despite all the empty-threats and crude name-calling, and how the elevator was their boys locker-room where they could share all wolfish dirty secrets.

He just needed to give the blonde a little nudge and he'd soon fold.

"You wanna tap that, zip her out of that skirt, bend her over your lap-"

"I swear, Kiri..." Bakugo growled, but with less acute anger this time, a difference Kirishima had learned meant he was lowering his walls, granting him enough of an opening to cut him off.

"If you're scared, we can do it together, Kachan~" He laughed, and the blonde sighed heavily, closing his eyes, exasperated to the point of defeat.

"I fucking hate this elevator..." He mumbled.

"What?!" The red-head feigned offence, clutching his chest. "We have our most important conversations in here!"

"Fuck you." Dynamight drawled, trying his best to fight off the small smile itching to spread on his face, body slumping in defeat, hunching forward as he rolled his eyes.

"No, fuck her." His friend urged in a whisper like the devil on his shoulder.

"She's useful." The ash-blonde argued, but the red-head merely clicked his tongue at the weak statement, offering a solution.

"Then fuck her and marry her."

"Just don't touch her."

Bakugo was serious, more so than what he usually was, and Kirishima could tell by the way he looked him directly in his eye, pools of red bleeding into a set of equally red puddles.

The sturdy-hero laughed, slapping a hand on the other man's shoulder and giving it a firm reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry, boss."

Kirishima smiled, a smile lacking the childish mockery from before, a friendly trustworthy smile, the smile Bakugo knew was reserved for only the very few that knew him through and through.

"She's all yours."

.

Next day, Bakugo walked into his office. His schedule, newspaper, coffee and snack were already lined up on the desk which had his gauntlets looking just shy of brand-new if it weren't for the marring in the paint-job. His hero-costume too, which he'd left in a heap on the wet floor the day prior, was not only hung to avoid creasing but washed free of rumble and smoke from yesterday's patrol.

"Bloody hell... is she a suck-up or a work-a-holic?" He breathed, noting how the floors had been polished as well, strictly clean, and that the mess that had littered the bookshelf with fan-mail and other documents he hadn't bothered to sort out was now tidy, papers neatly placed in binders labeled with easily understood titles, organised after importance. "Probably afraid I'll fire her..."

Not before he'd taken in the total lack of chaos, coming to terms with how it was still his office, getting over the feeling that he wasn't welcome in the sheer tidiness of everything, shook from the questions he voiced out loud about the assistant, was the vixen herself standing outside his door, drumming a little tune on the glass separating them.

"Come in." He granted, watching as she popped open the handle and stepped inside, same practical boots from the day before, but accompanied by white-knitted leg-warmers this time as it was a colder day. The blouse was swapped out for a warmer sweater, large on her small frame, but the skirt remained the same, tight over the curve of her ass, formfitting running down her thighs, a slit in the overlapping fabric, giving for a peek at her one knee.

It was enough to make his throat tighten.

"Did you see?"

His eyes traveled up to her face.

"What?" He nearly stuttered, almost tripping on his tongue and the water pooling beneath it.

"The popularity poll!" She squealed, walking with hurried enthusiastic steps over to his desk. "You've already risen five places! And it hasn't even been a full twenty-four hours yet!"

She supported her tablet on her forearm, resting her elbow on her hip, similar to how one would hold a toddler.

He didn't know why he was making the comparison.

Or he did...

"I always thought GEMGD was a bully, turns out he's just a bit rough around the edges. That smirk has me weak. Explosion-boy looks even hotter in a suit! Dynamight makes my heart go boom!" She read aloud. "All the comments are for you! And they're endless."

Her finger scrolled through the display on the screen, eyes running over the fan-comments beneath Deku's post of the two of them. The green-haired freckle-faced hero smiling a big gritted grin, eyes scrunched closed from the force of it, whereas her ash-blonde boss bore a more crazed expression, open-mouthed smirk stretched across his face, way huskier than his goofy counterpart who'd also had the audacity to throw up a a peace sign behind him, looking like a pair of bunny-ears; Deku's trademark.

She decided not to comment on how cute they looked.

"They're begging pro-hero Deku to post more of his quote on quote best friend."

"You said one lousy picture?"

He raised a brow, looking displeased.

She bit her lip, and he really wished she didn't as he felt the pull in his pants immediately, something twitching by the display of her looking down at her feet, something so unfairly sexy in the timidity of her grinding the tip of her toe into the floor.

"Well... what I meant was that... one lousy picture could spark something..." She explained sheepishly. "We'll still have to feed the fire a bit from time to time."

She bent down to gather the cardboard shipping package he'd ignored once stepping inside his office, dropping the large box down on the desk with a thud.

"But you're a big boy- you can survive a photoshoot every now and again, and a couple of ten minute interviews."

He should tell her to fuck off with the name-calling, but damn... he really didn't want to.

"Oh- that reminds me-"

Small hands laid flat on the top of the box, she drummed on the cardboard with her fingers.

"Heroes Fashion Magazine request you model for them."

"Modeling?" He nearly shouted, face twisted in confused disgust, offended she'd even suggest such a thing. "Fuck no."

"Well-" She ignored his outburst. "I said we'll consider it and they already sent over a box."

She patted the package put down on his desk with a smile.

"I took the liberty of taking a look and I think you'll actually find what they've come up with in your image quite amazing."

Her attitude was a nice thing in the morning, he thought, despite talking about things he didn't give a shit about.

"They've done some designs based around your trademark skull, which I think will be a huge aid, given right now it's associated more with villainous things rather than heroic, when we want to give the image of a badass and not a bully."

And there she goes with the fucking nicknames again, making his head hot.

"Also, Pro-hero Deku would like to post a picture of the two of you in your youth."

"He's already posted the class-photo." The boss mumbled.

"I believe this one is more in the time of your kindergarten days." She informed, searching through the files kept in her bag, pulling out a sheet of paper. "Here, I printed it out for you."

Laying the picture on the desk, she smiled with a tilt of her head, looking over the two boys' bright faces, her boss wearing a black T-shirt with a skull-print on it, similar to the one the paparazzi so often catches him wearing when dressing casually. She found it quite adorable and amusing how the design seemed to have grown up alongside him. Then there was the All-Might trading-cards the two of them clutched so protectively in each their small hands, their ambition of following the great hero in his footsteps clear in their large eyes.

"It's cute." She stated.

And though it was put simply, the comment nearly had him blush if he hadn't given his thigh a rough pinch to control himself, head pounding from yesterday's conversation with Kirishima in the elevator, unable to look at her or listen to her without twisting everything into a something dirty.

"I think it'll be good to show the public you were a bit of a geek."

And then there was the fucking teasing name-calling shot at him left and right.

He could prove to her how much of a geek he was. He was a boy-scout. He still remembers every knot in the book.

He would love to try them all out on her-

"Fine." He gruffly voiced his approval, quitting his own raving thoughts.

She made a couple movements on the screen to her tablet, noting his answer.

"Very well, sir, I'll inform him."

And at that she turned on her heel to leave.

"Oi, toots." He called. "Stay."

Stopping in her tracks, she spun around and blinked, preparing herself for a correction or a scolding in the form of a loud slew of curse-words.

"Something's been bothering me."

She felt her heart climb up her throat, as though she'd swallowed some living creature who fought to claw its way to freedom through her mouth.

"My coffee’s different every time." He stated, voice strangely serious to be discussing coffee. "It’s... not bad. Just weird." He informed, and she was left with another deafening pause to wonder what she'd done that was an issue. "Is your quirk making coffee or something?"

He'd been wondering what the tiny assistant had been gifted with for a while, not having found it on file as it probably wasn't worth the effort. Deciding, as her boss, it was in his rights to to simply demand an answer of his employee.

She blinked.

"Oh-"

Her heart rested and she exhaled in relief, smiling while giving a short laugh.

"My quirk." She repeated, resting her focus, forgetting her anticipation of being shunned and fired. "Well... uhm..."

Her brows knitted, pondering what way best to describe her rather mundane quirk to the man who literally sweats explosives.

"Boring and stereotypical, or ironic, as it may sound, it's called Assist." She informed, hands displayed in offering. "Basically... I guess... you could say that I naturally know what people need and how to assist them." She explained, but came to her own correction quickly. "It only counts for small things though..." She blurted out. "You know, like... what type coffee you'd prefer and... whether you wish for your schedule to be printed out or sent to you."

The man gave a huff, indicating his understanding.

"Obviously, you wouldn't be working here if you could cure cancer."

He wore a new type of smile she hadn't seen yet, a type of smug grin she'd expect to see on haughty jocks back in middle-school, eyes jaded, relaxed as he looked at her.

"Practically made for this job, aren't yah?"

She nearly pouted, but sucked it up and stiffened her upper lip.

"It might sound mediocre, but it sure comes in handy." She defended herself, raising her chin proudly. "So while you’re off keeping the world safe, I’ll be here tending the fort, keeping you happy."

He gave another smile and a small amused chuckle, eyes gleaming in a way she found deeply unsettling, the same type of eerie focus she'd seen displayed on Kirishima, the type of look she wanted to run from.

"Hate to break it to you, buttercup, but it’ll take a lot more than a good cup of coffee to make me happy."

She swallowed thickly, trying to keep up appearances despite feeling her face drain.

"Ah- of course, sir."

She ignored her additional sense telling her he was thirsting for something far different than coffee altogether. Wishing she could rid herself of the feeling before allowing her mind to slip and stray to what indecencies she felt were suggested in his tone, knowing she was being ridiculous for even thinking that her esteemed boss was hinting at something of the sort, knowing it was all most likely due to her own stupid female instinctive fears twisting his words.

But then she felt the unmistakable pull of her quirk telling her the truth of it.

Her cheeks heated as the treacherous urge to assist him with his needs arose like instinct, feeling the place between her thighs get hot as she busied herself with reminders that he was a public servant who protects. That he would never ask something like that of her even if he humoured the thought within the privacy of his own mind.

He was her boss.

An honourable man.

A respectable professional.

A hero.

But a man nonetheless. And she can't blame people for having urges, and perhaps... was her skirt too short maybe?

His focus left her and she felt like she could breathe properly again, still feeling dizzy as she watched his hands aim for the newspaper, his eyes skimming the headings.

"At least you’re not useless like the last one." He offered and she gladly accepted, too thankful to be let off his stare to pick up the derogatory substance of his sentence.

Face brightening a smidge.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

She brushed the icky feeling of his former attitude off on the fact that boys gotta be boys sometimes, just the same as girls will be girls at moments too, though not able to discard of the incident completely without giving her outfit a second thought and the mildly seductive gloss she wore on her lips, feeling stupid while thinking it was perhaps in her best interest to say goodbye to the tight pencil-skirt hugging her ass.

"Sir."

Dismissing herself, she turned her back, red eyes looked up from pretending to read as she opened the door and slipped out, leaving her boss to his own thoughts.

Her quirk should be called Housewife.

.

Following his schedule, he left early, the little assistant wishing him luck from where she sat working at her desk, waving him goodbye with dancing fingers as the elevator doors slowly closed and sent him down to ground level.

Patrol was uneventful in its boring four hour-long walk. A couple of small-fry villains quaking in their boots, regretting picking Pro-hero Dynamight's district as he sent them flying, leaving them to be scraped from the sidewalk up by his sidekicks.

Finding himself counting the minutes until he'd be back in the office.

Good thing it was a quiet day in the streets, what with him being so very distracted and all, conjuring up dirty pictures of his cute little assistant. Sitting at her desk with her knees glued together, squeezing her thighs close, so oblivious to his stares. Lost in her own world when planning his itinerary for him, making herself so useful for him, his pretty little helper, doing her best to keep her promise, to make him happy. Hand holding onto her pen, tip of it caught in her mouth, plump lips having no issue sucking on the small thing, making his head spin, thinking of how she'd handle something bigger.

He came back just shy of ten o'clock, happy to miss getting caught with Kirishima in the elevator again.

But, the sturdy-hero had already sowed his seeds in the muck of the explosion-hero's head, and the roots had already twisted their way through his gut, flowers blooming, nectar oozing and dripping, spilling down the vines, sweetening his senses, pollen fogging up his mind, only allowing him to think of one pretty little busy worker-bee, and how he wanted her to lick up his honey-spill-

"The fuck are you wearing?"

This was the last fucking straw. She couldn't be fucking serious with her innocent act, she had to be doing this on purpose.

She looked up from her tablet, eyes round as she processed his lack of greeting, before looking down at her clothes, trying to spot what he was attacking.

"Oh- I tripped with my coffee and spilled it all over my sweater, so I decided to- uhm- test out the product...?" She explained, pulling on the black fabric to the oversized hoodie she'd pulled on.

His trademark large white skull plastered on the front.

His head pounded, growing hotter, boiling, palms sweaty at his sides, tongue feeling heavy and large with the sting of sweet saliva pooling beneath it. Something snapped in his pelvis, drumming, pumping, growing warm and heavy, thankfully kept hidden in the expanse of his large cargo-pants.

"You should model." He let slip, eyes kept on the hoodie thrown on her tiny shape.

The cut was definitely finer, skull tweaked to look uniquely and unmistakably Dynamight. The edges were rough, decidedly unfinished. She'd tied the strings to the hood into a little bow on her collar, but he hadn't the time to bask in the details, when he was too caught up in thinking how it looked as though she'd put on one of his hoodies, mind forcing forth the thought of him having fucked her good first, made her sweaty and dumb on his dick before finishing up with dressing her up, showing the entire world how she belonged to him.

He cleared his throat, brought back to reality by the blank face she gave him, puzzled by his prior comment, undecided whether it was an inappropriate compliment or not.

He wouldn't give her any more time to think about it too much.

"Tell the magazine people they have a go on the merch."

She let his former comment slip, deciding to forget about it.

"And the modelling?"

"Thirty minutes tops." He answered, walking towards his office.

"Very well, sir. I'll inform HFM right away." The cheeriness in her tone had him curl his brows and squeeze his eyes shut, fists clenched at his sides, stiff as he opened the door.

"I have reports, don't bother me." He informed coldly, not waiting for a reply before he shut his door, never giving her a second glance, even as he handled the remote that had his blinds gliding over his windows, leaving him alone in the darkness of his office, no pretty assistant with adorable doe-eyes giving him anxious flickering looks as he unbuckled his belt and popped the button to his pants, zipping open his fly to free the painfully erect large tented bump in his boxers.

"M'fuuhck..."

His mind reeled, letting his eyes glide close.

Where would he take her first?

Hmm...

His hand dipped beneath the band of his expensive black briefs, running over a bush of mousy blonde curls to wrap around the warm thickness fighting desperately against its confinement.

On the desk?

Lay her down on her back, hand on her throat, thighs spread by his hips, legs tangled over his back, keeping him close, moaning so prettily for him, perky tits bouncing on every thrust up into her tight cunt, nipples hard between his lips. She'd gasp as he bit down on the little nubs, cry out for him, eyes large and glossy looking up at him, waiting for her orders.

"Fucking hell..." He groaned, tugging slowly on his base, so sensitive he had to hiss when his thumb brushed over a particular pulsating purple vein, bulging tip blushed an angry red, a drop of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit, running down his shaft, getting caught on his fingers as he smeared the wetness up and down his length.

Or maybe he should bend her over it instead?

Pretty tits mushed against the desk, her small wrists caught in a cross behind her back, held tightly in his fist, cute face blushed red and dewy with sweat, pressed against the cool glass, lips parted and panting for breath, crying just a bit by how her hips would ache against the edge of the table, but blissful nonetheless with his cock filling her up snugly form behind, cute ass smiling at him, begging for him to give the soft plush flesh a squeeze or a little slap that would have her yelp and hiccup on her moans.

"Fuck..." He chewed his bottom-lip, fucking up into his hand slowly, savouring the feel of his fingers wrapped tightly, rubbing over every sensitive vein, squeezing on them just like her tight pussy would.

On his black Italian-leather chair?

Have her kneel on the seat, back curved like a pretty little kitty, ass arched up into him, rubbing against his crotch, teasing him desperately for his cock. He'd have his hand yanking her hair back, strong fingers tangled in her soft locks, making her stare up at him, her hands gripping onto the plush chair for support, nails marring the leather as he rocks into her, make her drool at the curve of his cock brushing up into her cervix, his other hand slithered around her stomach, coarse finger painting cruelly delicious patterns into her throbbing little clit.

"Nah..."

He'd fuck her against the window.

All of Tokyo at his feet, laid bare before him, just like his tiny tight assistant wrapped around his cock, clinging to him so needfully, small soft hands holding onto him, thrown around his shoulders and down his back, warm doughy thighs hugging around his torso, squealing for him each time he snaps his hips forward, buried deep in her grateful little wet cunt. Pretty words on her lips.

Am I doing good, sir? Please, sir, I want to make you happy... I want to give you what you need~ I want to help you, sir. I want to be useful to you, sir. Please, let me be useful~ Thank you, sir~

I love you, sir.

"Holy fuck-"

He bit his tongue, feeling a bead of sweat roll down his temple.

Good thing she'd been a doll and placed a new packet of clean-wipes on his desk... what with the white mess decorating it.

.

The boss remained in his office well beyond working hours.

She contemplated whether or not she should knock on the door and tell him she was clocking out, but decided it was unnecessary in the end as he'd given her strict instructions not to bother him.

Coming back early next morning, walking into the spacious floor only to find her desk, not exactly cleaned out, but gone entirely.

The blinds where still drawn before Mr. Bakugo's office, where she, anxious as it made her, walked to the door and knocked.

He was prepared to bark at anyone to leave him the fuck alone, but recognising the delicate tune drummed on his door, he would make an exception.

"Come in."

"Morning, boss..." She stated timidly, as though something was amiss and he felt his gut wrench in fear that she might have heard him moaning her name all day long the day prior when he was supposedly doing paperwork reports. "I hate to ask... but have you seen my desk-" She asked, before turning her head to look over what was taking up the former empty corner-space in her boss' office.

"It's been moved." He informed while she took in the relocation of her usually lonely desk, still positioned four meters away from mr. Bakugo's desk, yet no longer separated by neither glass wall or blinds. "Is that a problem?" He dared.

"No..." She replied, still confused as to what purpose the change would benefit, but mostly if he at all would like it this way, be it beneficial or not. "But are you sure I won't be a bother?"

She's been a bother from the start.

"I ain't here too often." He explained.

"Well then..."

She fiddled with her fingers, braiding hem together as she briefly thought it over, thinking she actually wouldn't mind a space of her own where she could escape the lingering stares of one certain conversational red-haired hero.

"This is perfect!" She cheered then, not in need of more convincing. "Saves me the time of knocking."

She smiled, placing her bag on her chair, already liking her little nook in the office, gratefully admiring how whomever had moved her desk had made sure everything was still in their designated place, eyes skimming the digital clock stating the time, brows furrowing.

"You're here very early?"

Her question gave him just enough of a warning before she turned around to look at him, allowing him the time to take his eyes off her ass and wipe his expression free of the sour look he'd adopted when spotting how she wasn't wearing the skirt he'd come to love.

"I didn't leave." He confessed, flipping the page of the hero-magazine he was pretending to be absorbed in.

"Have you not slept?" She sounded worried, and his gut warmed at her sweet motherly tone, hand twitching, wanting to pet his cock despite having wrung it for every drop his balls were worth all night.

He sighed heavily, a type of growl that sounded fed-up.

"I have."

"Not well, I gather?" She pushed, as though scolding him, placing his coffee, newspaper and schedule down on his desk.

"It's fine."

He reached for the coffee, stomach fluttering for the taste of what new flavour she'd concocted for him today, though letting none of his excitement show on his face.

She hummed in suspicious thought.

"Well, you don't have patrol until two o'clock, which isn't for another eight hours."

Tapping her pointer-finger on the schedule placed before him, she continued.

"And as you have the time, where there are no ongoing big cases that require your attention at the moment, I could make arrangements for you to sleep on the couch in the conference room, or you could go home and have a nap before returning-"

"I ain't a child, toots." He glared at her, face in a frown.

She took it lightly, which only served to frustrate him even more, with how she seemed to brush away his anger like a mother does her temper-tantrum-throwing child.

"Of course not, sir."

"Then quit suggestion shit like naps." He ordered.

"Very well, sir."

She nodded, still with that small soft smile that seemed unshakable.

"Have you eaten?"

Why ask if she already knows the answer!?

He gripped the arm-rest, knuckles turning white in his frustration.

"No..." Voice in a muddled grumble, childishly admitting defeat.

"Well then..." Her tone so charmingly patronising, eyes soft as she looked at him. "Does the grown man want a snack?"

Who the fuck does she think she is!?

Poking fun at her own boss like it's nothing?!

Not just her boss, but one of Japan's greatest and toughest heroes!

Ridiculing him in his own fucking office!

He ought to teach her a little lesson...

But for fuck's sake- just give him his fucking snack already!

He snatched the offered food from her palm with another grunt, slumping back in his chair.

"Wipe that fucking smile off your face."

Her lips pulled further up into a smile, making her eyes shine.

"I'll try my best, sir."

.

It was late, roughly seven o'clock, and everyone had long gone home for the day. But, with the rising her boss had done in the popularity ranks, he'd received a ton of new fan-mail, which she felt the need to go through before calling it a day.

Meaning, she was there alone.

However, not for much longer, for as she was slipping the last fan-letter into it's designated binder, was someone staggering into the office.

She nearly screamed, jumping from her seat, needing to squint for a moment or two to recognise who it was, not having noticed she'd been working in the dark for the last half hour. But, as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room did she not only identify her boss, but also the blood staining him.

"Oh my goodness!" She squealed, hurrying over, helping him to the chair. "Are you okay!?"

It wasn't fair to him that she was this perfect.

"It's nothing." He brushed off, groaning as he repositioned himself in a strive to get more comfortable with the ache in his body.

"Are you sure?"

She sounded too sweet, too worried when looking at him, brows knitted all hopelessly, eyes large and shimmering, lips formed into a little pout.

If she kept looking at him like that he was sure to do something he might regret.

"What?" He snapped, shaking her from her blank-staring state.

She gave a little whimper.

"Nothing..."

Shaking her head just a bit, yet remained just as distressed.

"It’s just..."

She bit her lip, eyes skimming over the many bleeding cuts decorating his upper-body, no mind to the blood staining her own clothes from helping him sit down.

"It's just- uhm- your needs are all over the place."

He chuckled, unable to hold it back, finding her absolutely adorable.

"Then get to them."

It feels good having a pretty little thing fuss over nothing more than a couple of scratches.

"Isn't that your job?"

She drew in a breath, trying to toughen up with a nod.

"Of course, sir."

Walking to the bookshelf, she started pulling out drawers, mumbling some to herself.

"Assistant, receptionist, maid, baby-sitter- Mr. Kirishima should have put nurse on the list of qualifications as well..."

Coming back, she slid a rocks-glass onto the desk, lifting the diamond lid from the crystal whisky-bottle before pouring him a drink. Proceeding to pull out cotton-pads and disinfectant, resting her butt against the desk as she reached out small pretty hands, softly caressing his chin to steady him when with the other hand dabbing softly at the cut on his brow.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, eyes focussed on her task. "I'm sorry, stupid question, obviously it hurts." Dismissing herself with a shake of her head, she shut up in favour of focussing.

He didn't care much that it was a stupid question to ask.

Not when she was this sweet with him.

She continued working, placed between him on the chair and the desk she leaned on. Her knees between his knees, right in front of him. Tight black jeans, form-fitting around her thighs, over the curve of her hips, tightened in a stop at her waist with a black belt, where his large hands would sit so perfectly, squeezing her, pulling her close.

He didn't know what he was doing before it was done.

Hands placed exactly where he'd imagined them, hoisting her up to sit on the cool glass surface of his desk.

"Sir? wha-"

He grabbed her chin before she could finish, fingers pressing into the adorable chubs of her cheeks, squishing her lips into a soft pillowy welcome, greeting his lips with ease as he pushed forward, sinking in, mushing his face against hers, kissing softly, slowly and yearningly, without teeth and without aggression, but deeply, with passion, with an urge to stop breathing, incessantly, with a mellow yet disturbingly hungry bottomless obsession, with a thirst to put a fire out.

Her brows furrowed. Hands dropping the blood-dirtied cotton pad when needing to meet with the warmth of his chest, steadying him in his needy pursuit.

She had been so adamant on making it.

So determined on succeeding at this job so many others had failed in.

She was so certain she could survive crude merciless curse-words flung at her face, completely aware she wouldn't be receiving any form of appreciation back for her hard work.

She'd heard Kirishima would try his best to have his go and was prepared to block any of his advances, having made peace with the fact.

But... having brushed-off the cries of her quirk, she wasn't at all expecting to have to deal with choking on her own boss forcing his tongue down her throat as well.

She couldn't pull away, wasn't allowed to, only able to keep her eyes wide as her boss sucked her face, finally detaching with a thick string of drool connecting their tongues, his heated gaze troubling her, suddenly feeling very small, stuck and caught before his tall massive muscled form.

Her sixth sense was a boiler at this point.

"Ah- I- I think I should leave, sir." She tripped at the taste of his tongue, keeping her lips parted, hesitant on swallowing the mixture of his and her spit caught dripping, smeared and painted on the walls of her mouth.

His breath was warm on her face, panted on her glossy wet lips.

He didn't pull any further off, even after her statement, finding it quite amusing how small her tiny little hands were, placed on his chest as though it would do her any good.

Looking into her large anxious little eyes, he could only think of two things.

She'll definitely quit if he let's her leave now...

... and he can't afford to lose her...

And with that in his mind his hands moved from the chubs of her cheeks to her throat.

"Ah- sir?" She gasped, but the breath caught in her throat, kept from her by the way his hands slowly and carefully squeezed her free of air.

Her hands clung to his arms, trying to push him off, tears given just enough time to slip from her moon-wide eyes, but he remained happy when she gave out quickly.

Like a flower in a forest fire.

.

She awoke softly.

Looking like a scene in a movie.

A way too cute girl laid down in a bed of expensive black sheets she didn't belong in.

He'd brushed the locks of hair out of her face, half-way submerged in the dune of his pillow, small hand clutching the air in her sweet dreaming.

Soft snores left the rise and fall of her chest where he'd done the dirty deed of removing her blood-stained clothes, leaving her in a pretty pink lace-bra, cupping the light weight of her breasts in a rosey pattern just shy of being see-through, and her cute matching panties, a simple and chaste piece, but still so very tempting in it's innocence.

He'd needed to stop himself before going too far, his rough hands running over smooth plush flesh, becoming addicted to the softness before backing off with a frustrated groan, pulling his armchair up to the bed, reduced to simply watching her, studying every freckle adorning her flawless shape. Every curve, every dip, noting down some unexpected scars marring her skin, cocking his head at the marks, wondering what caused them, if she was a clumsy little thing who snagged herself on sharp things or if she somehow was a tiny little brawler at some time. He chuckled at the thought, thinking the former was more likely.

She made a moan, humming out a tiny pretty whimper as her brows furrowed, scrunching as she grasped for the light seeping in through her eyelids.

"Morning."

He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he hunched forward with his lips kissing his knuckles, monitoring her with keen eyes.

"How're you feeling?"

He knew she was fine.

He'd choked her out with expertise, knowing with out-most certainty he hadn't hurt her, only merely forced her into a safe temporary loss of consciousness.

Her eyes fluttered open, stirred by his gravely tone, met with blurry surroundings.

Brows remaining curled as she blinked slowly on repeat, confused and adorable as she tried adjusting her eyes to the light, most definitely disoriented.

The poor thing.

"Scared shitless, I bet."

With eyes growing larger, and breath picking up speed she flushed and shivered on a coat of goosebumps upon the voice, finding her boss sitting in an armchair a rough meter away from the soft but foreign bed she was placed in.

"Mr. Bakugo?" She croaked, eyes growing more and more swivelled with panic, mind crumbling, spinning and splitting until it ached when peering down at herself, seeing she was in nothing but her flimsy undergarments. "I don't understand-" She spluttered. "What happened? What-"

Panicking, she tried covering herself up with the Egyptian-cotton-sheets, a type of soft comfort he bet she'd never had the luxury of feeling against her skin.

"Where am I?"

He pushed himself up from his chair and come to her side, trying to calm her down once she started hyperventilating at the sight of her bound hands.

"You're safe. M'sorry I tied you up-"

His attempt at soothing her wasn't appreciated, only aiding in making her even more panicked.

"What's going on- sir? What did I do? What did... what did you do?"

She tried scurrying away from him, pushing with the balls of her feet digging into the mattress.

"You... tried to kill me."

"No." He dismissed with a click of his tongue, grabbing her conjoined wrists as he climbed after where she tried to worm herself away from him, pulling her back to rest on the pillow. "I just knocked you out." He defended, tone casual as though it was the most obvious thing, as though she was overreacting.

"Knock me out? Why- You-"

Tears sprung to her eyes as she writhed beneath the large man, feeling smaller by the second, weak and helpless as he loomed above her.

"Quit being scared, I ain't gonna hurt you." He cooed, trying to control her struggles by gripping her waist, needing to tighten the grip where she thrashed around like a fish out of water, aiming to fend him off with hitting at him with her bound hands.

"Please let me go, please, I- I won't tell anyone, I promise, I promise, sir, I-" She pleaded, but Bakugo couldn't care for the hysteria cooped up in her ditzy little head, annoyed with her pathetic rambling, needing to make her understand the new situation.

"Shut up, toots."

His fingers found the plush of her cheeks roughly and squished them to make her still, chuckling crudely at how large and hopeless her eyes shown up at him.

"You think you can play perfect little housewife and not own up to it?"

His eyes had her frozen, glowing scarlet with crazed predatory heat, the carved knifelike smile on his face looking like that of a hyena in a hunting frenzy, eyeing cornered prey.

"Uhm- sir?" She whimpered, twisting at the stench of his breath wafting over her face with warmth.

"You stopped wearing that skirt I liked." He dismissed her. "Got tired of your quirk telling you how I needed to bend you over my desk?"

She gasped, eyes widening even more, going completely silent, dead-still under his touch if it weren't for the heavy sporadic rise and fall of her chest.

"You're scaring me-" She whimpered and his smile grew, eyes going dull, lazy with awe at her adorable little pitiful face.

"And the lipgloss-" He ignored her outcry again. "You stopped wearing that too."

He scrunched her face tighter between his fingers, making her whimper beneath him.

"Too freaked out by how your boss needed you to come into his office and lock the door behind you?"

She hiccuped at the feel of her heart jumping to her throat and how his eyes seemed to want to drown her in red.

"How I needed you down on your knees in that tight pencil-skirt, plump pink lips wrapped warm wet and nice around my cock."

"Mr. Bakugo-"

"What? You gonna make me some tea? Help me calm down?" He teased, drawing in closer, face less than an inch form hers where tears spilled rapidly from her poor glass-eyes. "Nah... what's your quirk telling you that I really need right now, huh?"

She trembled, shaking her head.

"I- I don't understand-"

"You don't understand?" He interrupted, voice pouty in mockery. "Just so innocent, huh?"

She thought she might faint when feeling his hand drumming thick sand-paper fingertips down the soft skin of her stomach.

"'Cause... to me it feels like I need to be eight inches deep in my tiny assistant's tight twat."

She started sobbing then, wanting to push him off or hold onto her underwear when he hooked his fingers into the flimsy band and starting running them down her thighs. Unable to do anything when kept levelled by the eyes staring her deep in her little terrified soul and the hand holding her cheeks, forcing her to face him. Where no amount of struggling would loosen the rope keeping her wrists together, only succeeding in chaffing the delicate soft skin found there.

"Sir, please- think about this- ah- please- don't- don't do this."

Her legs kicked, but small as she was all he needed to was push her knees aside, spread her wide, the cool air kissing her bare cunt, quivering beneath him.

"You're too obsessed with giving people what they need." He drawled, body sagging in awe at the pretty sight in front of him, her cute face torn with anxiety, caught in his hand, lips juicy wet with tears as she sucked in her breaths, in full focus on him and his hand coming to play with her scared little sex. "How about I give you what you need for once?"

"No- sir, please, stop."

She tried twisting away, tried inching further up on the bed, scurrying away from his touch, but wasn't given the freedom.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me-" She accused, voice wet and broken with hopeless betrayal, desperate to make him stop.

"And I ain't gonna hurt you-" He reassured, though acting as the farthest thing from assuring as he dipped his roughened fingertips into her soft tender folds, messaging the slit gently. "I'mma take care of you, proper care."

She felt like she was suffocating, throat tightening, tongue a heavy foreigner in her mouth, the room a taste of blood.

"Truth is, little assistant, you make me hate being alone." Tone so very gratingly overbearing, burning in her head, words like flames licking at her ears. "Only right you fix it."

She whined in protest.

"Please, sir, stop-"

Insisting in small prayers, blubbering like a little bawling toddler, lips quivering, shaking on each sob.

He lifted his hand and put two of his fingers into his mouth, gathering a thick coat of saliva on them before motioning it back between her thighs.

"I need you warming my bed more than I need you running errands anyway." He whispered, smearing the thickness of his digits between her folds, running over her clit before skewering his middle-finger inside her tight little hole.

She wrenched uncomfortably.

"Please, sir-"

Quaking on her shaking sobs with her breaths hitching in her throat, thighs jolting, squirming in small pitiful hopeless struggles.

"Shh, baby." He cooed, but she only cried harder. "I won't hurt you- promise." Repeating the vow, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth, tasting the salt of tears on his tongue. "It's just like you said..."

He continued laying a trail of wet slobbering kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin playfully with the teeth of his smirk, watching with idle eyes her chest heaving in shallow panicked breaths.

"You just keep up the good work..."

His finger pumped into her slowly, thick and boney, crooked by many years of breaking bones, both his own and others, reaching in deep, hooking into the tender spongey wall, so sensitive at the hand of his brazen confident touches it made her moan.

"You keep me happy, while I go save the world."

♡ P2: Housewife ♡ Bakugou Katsuki masterlist ♡ BNHA masterlist

Sailor Moon Crystal || Jujutsu Kaisen

fanfic titles be like “we have not touched the stars (nor are we forgiven)” and then you look at the tags & the first one is “anal fisting”

you were kind; i was cruel

On your daughter's first day of kindergarten, Katsuki told her to keep her distance from the boys, or she'd contract their infectious disease, and she listened because papa is never wrong. You get a complaint from her teacher on the very same day, saying she wouldn't let any of the boys come near her. You go to scold Katsuki for it, but he's already holding her in his arms, spinning her and kissing her cheek, congratulating her for not contracting the infectious and stinky little boy disease.

Part 2 (blurb)

Bakugou Katsuki started dating you in his first year of university. Now, three years have passed.

Mina, ever the observer, noticed slight changes in her friend’s demeanor.

"Kiri. Is Bakubro talking to someone?" She leaned against the windowsill of the lecture hall, carefully watching the blonde boy walk calmly off-campus.

"No. Why?" Kirishima slung his bag over his shoulder and walked over to where Mina stood. His eyes followed Bakugou as he walked away, starting to wonder.

Was Bakugou talking to someone? Nah, can't be.

"He seems... calmer?" Kirishima snickered, causing Mina to smile slightly. "Y’know what I mean. He's just, I don’t know, different now."

While the two of them came up with various scenarios, Katsuki himself had just reached his car and was texting you. A small notification pinged on his phone, and the boy smiled, pocketed it, and hopped into his car.

A few weeks later, during a small get-together with the group, Kaminari, drunkenly blurting out random thoughts, caught everyone's attention.

"Heyy, Bakus." Kaminari slung his arm around Bakugou's shoulders, leaning into him. "Come with me on this double date. This cute girl will only go out with me if you come for her friend."

Katsuki sighed at the sight of his childhood friend.

"I can’t."

Mina and Kirishima, sitting next to each other, lightly knocked knees, their ears perked up to catch the reason behind his refusal.

"Why not, Bakubro? It’s a free day. You busy?" Kirishima asked, taking a sip from his cup while keeping an eye on Bakugou, who looked bored.

Bakugou glanced at his phone, which buzzed with another notification. Mina quickly averted her gaze toward the screen, trying to catch a glimpse of the name—too slow to see anything.

Wait, what was that on his back-

"I have a date with my missus."

Bakugou continued texting, unaware of the sudden silence that had fallen over the entire group. All eyes were fixed on his relaxed figure as he typed away.

"YESSSSSSSSSS!" Mina jumped up, fists pumping the air in celebration. Her face lit up with pure joy as Kirishima chuckled beside her, shaking his head.

Katsuki looked up, confused by their reaction. Then he felt a small splatter on his forearm and turned to see Kaminari sitting next to him, his mouth open, spilling his drink.

"OY! Dunce face, you’re fucking spilling everything—"

"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND??" Kaminari grabbed Bakugou's shoulders, lightly shaking him.

"Yeah, I thought I told you guys that."

Kaminari’s face fell, then he lunged forward and hugged Bakugou while sobbing, "You have a girlfriend!"

"Dunce—You're getting my shirt wet. Bro, get off!" Katsuki was shocked by the reaction of his friends. He glanced around at their expressions before his eyes landed on the entrance to the bar.

"Kaminari, off me." He grabbed his sobbing friend by the shoulder and gently tipped him back. "Move over. Make some space."

Mina whipped her head toward the entrance, gasping loudly.

And there you were, already smiling as you clutched your bag anxiously.

Bakugou stood up and walked over to you, a small smile tugging at his lips. Kirishima scoffed in shock as he heard him greet you.

"Hey, mama. You okay?"

You nodded, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. Katsuki wrapped his arm around your waist and led you toward the booth.

"Well, since I must have forgotten to mention it to you guys... meet my fiancée."

ONLY FOR YOU [9K]

— viking!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: on a visit to a neighbouring village, you realise all the women there either hate you or are laughing at you. apparently, your fiance has forgot to tell you one very minor detail.

WARNINGS: minors dni, ageless blogs dni, 18+ content, female reader, viking themes light, smut/fluff/angst, referred to as: lady/baby/princess, p to v sex, assplay, spanking, massage+oil (f), handjob, breast play, fingering (f), head (f), bkg referred to as chief, dirty talk, love confessions, lovey dovey, whole load of grovelling, hello eren n mikasa!!!!

NOTES: part four of FOR YOU viking bkg!! can be read as a standalone. this comes before JUST FOR YOU because i wrote that they love each other in that fic when this fic includes the first confession lol so i’ll edit the note on that fic. hope you all enjoy. the beginning was written many months ago lol but finally finished. lots of grovelling bkg here and i’ve wrote things i’ve never wrote before! looking forward to hearing what you have to say :) also play please please please by sabrina.

FOR YOU MASTERLIST!

what people don’t mention is the unspoken notion that your partner is a reflection of you. you’ve chosen to be with this man, spend your days with him and share your deepest moments. if he does something stupid, there’s an idea that you’d be okay with it, perhaps even do it yourself. having a partner, especially a man at your side puts you in the position to be utterly and completely embarrassed by him. your girlfriends would tell you how they were dating a man who just broke it off randomly and how embarrassing it feels to just share that information. or another how, they took a man home to meet her parents and made not one, but three embarrassing and highly offensive jokes. embarrassment from men isn’t new. but it’s definitely new for you.

you don’t care if silent treatment is childish, you don’t even know how to comprehend everything you’ve heard today. you’ve kept your fake smile on for long enough, through all the conversations, greeting new people and attempting to make new friends. 

bakugou knew something was up with you. how you refused to look at him at dinner, turning away from him every time he leaned in to talk to you. he shuffled to scrape his crispy potatoes onto your plate and you made no move to thank him. the worst was when you froze when he put his hand on your thigh causing him to remove it abruptly.

he needs to go home now, sort out whatever the fuck was wrong with his wife.

he whispers to you, “you finished eatin’?”

you’ve leant back in your chair, plate half finished. all you manage is a nod. 

“wanna go home now?” he’s testing the waters, studying every turn of your head and fidget of the table cloth.

“yeah.” you continue facing forward. you want nothing more than to leave.

bakugou stands and immediately all the attention goes to him. you follow the gazes of the women across the table, how their eyes widen. watching him like a piece of meat.

“we’re goin’ now,” is all he says and if you weren’t so pissed off you would have laughed at how kaminari quickly piles in the last spoonfuls of his food.

your fake smile finds its way back on your face as you rise to your feet, “thank you for inviting us! we had a lovely time.” 

it’s all for the audience when you give your fiancé a side hug, your hand sliding along his chest under his furs. your other hand grips his bicep and you both truly look like a beautiful couple. you feel so unlike yourself, putting on a show in front of other women, especially women you only wanted to be friends with but it’s a job that has to be done. united front and all.

you keep his hand in yours until you walk out to your horses, your crew behind you both. only when none of the neighbouring village people are around do you rip your hand out of his.

“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong? did someone do somethin’ to you?” he tries.

“let’s just go home,” you feel defeated. anger and anxiousness rattling through you.

though bakugou steps towards you, chest to chest but you refuse to meet his eyes.

“tell me now so i can sort out whoever’s in there now,” he sounds every bit caring and dangerous, shiny eyes trying to find yours without literally dragging your face to him by the chin.

you sniff, “nobody did anything to me. let’s go home.”

silently you hop on bakugou’s horse daisy, with the man following behind you. after ordering his men, as soon as daisy starts walking he speaks up, “you’re tellin’ me when we get back.” 

today was going to be one of the first times you and your fiancé bakugou katsuki, were out in public together in a neighbouring village. often bakugou would leave the village, for a raid or a deal or a visit. fulfilling his chief duties. you would too occasionally for a new day out with your friends, having fun making new identities for the evening. but today you were lady bakugou. not completely yet in the name but you have your shiny engagement rock on your finger, glistening in every way the light shines. then shiny rubies hanging at your ears and three beautiful delicate gold chains around your neck. a couple of rings littered your fingers from a raid a few weeks ago and you’ve got on one of your new dresses you’ve had tailored recently. the boost of confidence is like no other. you’ve rubbed a dab of honey in your skin and some lavender across your neck and wrists. then lastly a smear of raspberry and sugar that one of the village ladies made for you. 

you feel beautiful and you know it’s a fact when you step out of your home, and your glorious chief of your village is standing waiting for you. he’s had morning duties while you got ready for the journey and you’re a bit surprised by the large entourage he’s bringing with him. you’re bringing your maid sophie, who stands behind you and your fiancé practically has his whole crew. their horses and his own, lovely cinnamon brown daisy at his side.

the frown that many would believe is built into his face, immediately lightens at the sight of you. so similar to the sight of a flower the day it’s ready to bloom. comparing katsuki to a flower does seem odd, with the scar across his lip, another across his eyebrow. then a few more down his arms and his chest. all of which are showing as he’s only got his favourite black furs hanging at his shoulders. they drape down to his waist, covering his nipples but not the deep set of abs he’s got. paired with these premium black boots that cost a fortune and so much jewellery it’s hard to distinguish one chain from another. his silver jewellery is a weight at his neck, just another proof of his wealth and health that he’s able to carry it all day. then his lobes are coated in more silver, as with his fingers.

“you look beautiful…,” he stops what he was doing to give you his full attention, carmine eyes dropping from your braided hair to your feet, “my lady bakugou.”

your body burns at his sweet sweet attention. even the way his men still look at him with shocked mouths open. yes, their chief can be loving. only to you. another man nudges the other, and they go back to preparing their horses.

you snap out of it, shaking your head and walking towards him with a bounce in your step. “thank you my beloved, but i’m not even a bakugou yet.”

then you stop right in front of him, lifting your head to face his. he knows what you’re asking for without saying it. for him to fulfil his husband duties. it’s a single second of looking at each other up close. his caramel scent mixed with something earthy makes you feel deluded and the feeling only worsens when the left corner of his mouth rises in a smirk.

“you will be and you definitely are today, princess,” 

then he kisses you for the first time today. lips slotted together like puzzle pieces as your palm finds purchase on the part of his chest that’s showing. he’s warm and delectable, wasting no time in opening your mouth for his tongue to slide through. he makes you feel all fuzzy, your brain becoming one of a teenage boy to rapidly undress him and take more and more and more of him.

but you’re a grown woman, pulling away from him because someone has to remember there’s an audience around. you brush some of the sugar from your lips off his though it only makes him grab your hand to lay another kiss in the centre of your palm. 

“i mean it though, you look unbelievable. i’m lucky to have you by my side,” it’s said in a deep whisper, bakugou holding eye contact so intense it feels as if he’s trying to communicate those three other words too without actually saying them. you think you would return them.

you grin and it feels like a bubble has formed around you two, “i’m lucky to have you too. you look gorgeous.”

then you pull from his embrace, the deep want, longing, the love for him almost choking you. or not love, or maybe love, or yes love? you move to his horse, rubbing her face soothingly.

“i’m assuming i’m riding with you today, chief?” you say loudly as if to snap out of whatever that just was. your new horse, cheesecake is nowhere to be seen.

he hums, his ringed hand finding your waist, a peck on your cheek, “yeah, want you with me for this long journey.”

the day started so well, poking his sides and sitting behind him on daisy. kissing his neck while he threatens to push you off. bakugou even made sure to inform you about who you’re visiting, one of his closest friend’s eren jaeger. they’ve been childhood friends with their parents also being friends and since his parents have recently passed he’s taken on the role of being the chief of his village. it was only a dinner with his wife mikasa and their new baby in company and a few shared friends of the village. to say you were looking forward to this was an understatement. you loved meeting new people, the potential to be friends.

though as soon as you hopped off daisy, you could sense it. eren and mikasa were lovely, their baby sleeping back home for the moment. eren was gorgeous, tall and lean instead of bulky like your katsuki. emerald green eyes with a beautiful emerald chain around his neck. mikasa took you under her wing, with long shiny black hair and a swiftness that told you she took part in raids.

on the tour around the village, you thought you were going insane. the familiarity all the women had with your fiancé. the bug eyed stares, undressing him with their eyes. you thought to assume it’s because everyone grew up together right? he’s known them since childhood. but from when you meet the local baker, one of mikasa’s maids, actually three of mikasa’s maids, two of her friends, a local gardener, many of eren’s men’s wives, something clearly was going on. one reached out for his forearm to which bakugou turned around just in time to not notice. the most undeniable thing was how every single woman you’ve met here, sans mikasa, looks like they wanted to murder you in the worst possible way. either that or pretending like you weren’t there. gossiping behind their palms to one another with a giggle at the end. 

you remember a while ago bakugou mentioned he’s never slept with women from his village. does that mean it was always from other villages? he can’t have had a relationship with all of these women? bakugou’s facial expression barely changed from one woman to the next whilst nearly every single one regarded him with pure elation until eren introduced you as his fiancé. then the glares and odd optimism like you don’t exist.

“you gonna tell me now? i can’t be a good husband if you don’t tell me. please.” bakugou pleads, following you down the hallway to your shared bedroom. you have half the mind to sleep in the spare room tonight and depending on how this conversation goes you think you just might.

you spin around to face him once you’re together in your bedroom. bakugou jumps slightly, wide eyes at how angry and distraught you truly were, hidden all day. you’re past frowning, gritted jaw and flared nostrils. your hands in fists before relaxing then clenching again.

“you embarrassed me,” you spit.

bakugou feels something snap in his chest before confusion coats him, “what?”

“it would have been helpful, katsuki, if you told me beforehand that you’ve fucked the whole village so i didn’t have to sit through conversation after conversation from women thinking you were back for them or how good you fucked them last or getting glared at by everybody or listening to how every woman in the room knows you have a beauty spot on your left ass cheek!”

bakugou’s jaw drops. he doesn’t think he’s ever in his life been stunned to silence.

his lips move but he’s unsure what to exactly say, “i… i didn’t think—,”

“yeah, you didn’t because multiple women today mentioned how they thought you were their boyfriend and were shocked to find you’re here with a fiancé. then… then hearing how stupid i’d be to think you’d stay loyal to me when you hadn’t been to them!”

you feel hot all over, overstimulated with the amount of jewellery you’ve got on, your socks, the lace of your dress prickling your cleavage.

you breathe, covering your face with your hands before ripping them away the next second, “what the fuck, katsuki! even mikasa, the only woman you hadn’t had sex with was surprised i was clueless. just throwing me out to the wolves today.”

you move to pull off your rings, dropping them in a bowl on your side of the bed. then your earrings and necklaces. 

katsuki steps towards you keeping you out of arms reach. he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this in his life. perhaps when his mother would shout at him as a child? but he was a brute, stomping out of the room and thinking he was in the right anyway. usually, it was him shouting at others but he’s actually hurt you emotionally. no broken bones or bleeding, he’s genuinely deeply hurt you.

“i’m sorry, yn.” he chokes, looking at his hands, “i was fuckin’ stupid to now think about that. i just thought about introducin’ you to the guys and their wives. i didn’t even think about my… endeavours with those women.”

“how do you not think about these women while they’re convinced they’re in the running to be the next lady bakugou? you clearly did more than just fuck them,” you focus on one stiff ring, stuck on your pointer finger. fuck, you’re going to need to get some oil or butter. you yank at it again and again until before you know it tears begin to fall. “for fucks sake.”

“shh, shh, wait,” he spins you around by the shoulders and takes your hand with the stuck ring. tears fall onto your hand as you look down and bakugou feels like a knife is only twisting deeper inside of him. “lemme take it off you.”

he opens up a box you have behind you, swiping soft lemon balm between two fingers. he wipes it over your finger, under and around the ring, then slowly twists it and slides it off your finger.

as soon as it’s off you snatch your hand back holding the bruised finger against your chest.

“i’m sorry, baby. for me, it wasn’t anythin’ serious with them. i’d sleep with some of them when i was younger, a few years ago, all before i even knew about you. they were around when i’d visit eren and not to sound weird and up my ass but they all wanted the status from me, not me,” he says sympathetically, dying to drag you into his arms.

you wipe your eyes quickly, “seriously? so you didn’t make it clear to them that it was just sex? you were happy just fucking and leaving these women? who even are you?” 

you pull off your dress, padding around the room in just your underwear to find a spare sleepshirt, “do you know how embarrassing it was? to hear everything about my fiancé, stuff i didn’t even know?”

there’s one under your pillow you drag on with bakugou still frozen like a statue in the middle of the room. 

“i’m fuckin’ sorry. i shoulda told you but we’ve barely spoken about our past like that and i didn’t think they’d have that much shit to say about me.”

you frown at him like he’s stupid, scrunched face and turned up lip. “i’m sleeping in the spare room, goodnight.”

“yn, please,” he tries to grab your arm but you dart out the way.

“i don’t want to be around you. we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“leave me alone, fuckboy.”

all your and bakugou’s staff get whiplash looking at each other so fast, rolling their lips in to stop giggles bursting out.

you pay no mind to your fiance sitting at the head of the dining table for breakfast. he’s freshly showered with only his engagement ring on a chain around his neck and a forest green tunic. he’s definitely not his usual well rested self, there’s a tint of darkness under his eyes, his palms sweaty on his thighs. you do this to him.

you on the other hand are still in your nightshirt, bouncing around the dining table to put food onto your plate. strawberries, blueberries, buttered toast and a chocolate croissant. 

“yn, just sit so we can talk. please.”

“benny! thank you for the pain au chocolat! i need to get the recipe from you.”

benny, your head chef waves over to you while bakugou grunts.

“stop fuckin’ ignorin’ me.”

you slowly lift your head to him, eyes wide with faux innocence. “oh, like you did with all those women? again, shut up bakugou.”

bakugou grits his teeth as you pop a blueberry in your mouth. you don’t give him a chance to reply, talking to sophie who walks past you, “i’ll be eating in the gardens. i don’t like the energy in this room.” you waft your hand around you for good measure.

when you’ve left the room, bakugou flings his head back on his seat behind him. “what the fuck am i supposed to do?”

he’s met with silence till he looks over to his staff. some of his housekeepers, his cooks and his maids have known him since he was a kid, others from when he first became chief. most are close to him in an oddly familial way and now with you.

“honestly. speak to me.”

it’s not often bakugou asks for advice so again, his staff are hit with surprise.

sophie speaks up first with the softest tone she can muster. bakugou knows the love she has for you. “apologise, chief. let her talk at you and explain your process of thinking. you were very… sorry chief…,” sophie looks for the right word before landing on, “silly. very silly.”

“fuck,” bakugou grunts. sure he used to sleep around. he didn’t intend to drag anybody on or hurt you in the process. he forgot how possessive women can get… the fuck is he saying, he’s the most possessive person he knows. 

“you lot eat if you haven’t already. i’ll go find her.”

you’re sitting cross legged on one of the wooden benches littered around the gardens, looking out at the flowered bushes and vegetable gardens to the left. you look content, wiping a pastry flake off your cheek and listening to the light hum of bees. till you hear your fiance plop down beside you and your eyes roll to the back of your head in annoyance.

“ruining my evening and my morning. wow,” you mutter under your breath. bakugou sits up straight, crossing his arms across his chest.

“i’m sorry, i should have warned you i had relations with other women.” his eyes bounce from you to the lake further ahead.

in slow motion, your face twists. eyebrows upside down, scrunch of your nose. “i’m not going to even answer that. i had a woman tell me i was just your new plaything that you’ll get bored of while three other women laughed.”

your voice cracks on the last word and you wonder how you’ve become so emotional now. you haven’t even started talking and you’re ready to cry. you won’t though.

“i’m sorry—,”

“in another room, two girls were talking about how good of a fuck you were and another was close to tears when another introduced me as your fiance. that apparently you slept with her twice and she thought you really really liked her. wait, then another who said she lost her virginity to you years ago and was convinced you’d come back to her?”

you turn to your beautiful man, who has a whole village wrapped around his finger. his eyes are wide at every word that comes out of your mouth.

“i’m not going to call any of those women crazy if that’s what you want from me. i get it. i know what it’s like to have a crush on you, sleep with you and have your attention. i’ll probably be joining them in a week.”

are you being dramatic? honestly, you don’t know, you’re not in the right mind to think about this all clearly. your mind just keeps going in circles that you’re not enough for him. is this all really unbalanced and you like him more than he does you? are you now thinking of every possibility possible? has he given you any reason to not think these things?

“you’re not gonna be fuckin’ joinin’ them. you’re not like those girls to me—,”

“how?”

bakugou blinks, “how what?”

“how aren’t i like them? i’m sure you got some of them gifts, called some pretty, definitely had sex with a lot of them.”

“‘cause you’re my wife. i want you beside me forever.” 

he says it like it’s obvious.

you sigh with your whole body, gripping your plate between the tips of your fingers.

“i need more, katsuki. yesterday i was told every single thing needed to make me the most insecure girl on the earth.” you plead, now putting the plate on the ground to hug your knees in the bench.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

you’re slipping through his fingers so he begins talking without thinking.

“i was young and stupid and i used to sleep around. i think it was because i just wanted some intimacy or some, i don’t fuckin’ know, some love? or control over how i was loved? and i’m not sayin’ that for some sympathy or whatever. you know my parents never hugged me or shit, my first hug was from sophie when i was fifteen and my first kiss was from a girl from eren’s village. once i realised girls were attracted to me i used it. no violence or reciting my duties of becoming a future chief. i just craved… intimacy, i think.” 

bakugou sniffs. fuck, he has more to think through than he thought. you’re still beside him, waiting for more.

“i got carried away sometimes. i kept my emotions out when some of the girls were very emotionally involved. which is my bad i didn’t make things clearer. but i never thought about them afterwards, i’d leave and be back on raids, training.” bakugou leans forward in his elbows, head in his hands, “i was fucked up, on my own clock. never taught to care about people i left behind in other villages.”

you watch bakugou realise in real time, the extent of his actions. killing people in raids and he’s left. messing with women and he’s gone. one is his duty, the other… not quite. he stares ahead blankly for a few seconds before turning to you, looking at you as if you hold all the answers.

“do you understand that? and i’m not askin’ for sympathy but do you get what i mean? i was taught to care about my village.” his final words become a whisper.

you’ve gone on raids. you’ve been in rooms with your family as they plan murders. you sit with katsuki as he plans to take other villages' wealth and food. all done for survival and power.

“yeah, i do. kill or be killed, we live on that. but what, i’m in your village, your property, so you won’t do me wrong? that’s the difference between me and them?”

bakugou’s lava eyes harden to rocks, “anythin’ that goes for me goes for you. this is also your village, i am also your property. i am going to marry you, i’m swearin’ on everythin’ i’ve worked for that i won’t do you wrong. that’s the difference between you and them.”

but there’s something there that’s still not enough. you understand every word that leaves his mouth. you follow his lips until he’s finished then the sharp angle of his jaw to the pair of gold earrings in his ears. you need more. more.

“tell me you love me.”

“i love you with my life.”

there’s not a beat in between your question and his answer. there is a silence after of you studying his face whilst he becomes an open book. he sits up straight, twisting to face you. it’s not that you don’t believe him. bakugou tilts his head at you, trying to grab what you’re thinking.

“i can’t be a good husband if you’re not honest with me, baby.”

“this is not as romantic as i wanted it to be,” you mumble.

bakugou chuckles.

“you’re in trouble, don’t laugh.”

bakugou nods in acceptance, hands in the air but his smile stays.

you lean back in your chair defeated, looking ahead.

“so do you love me too or should i fuck off?”

“you’re not getting that from me yet. tell me why you won’t leave me. tell me why i’m different to those women.”

bakugou gulps but it’s easier to speak his mind now, those three words are out of him. 

“‘cause i love you. before i met you i loved you, hearing what people were saying about you. from the day i dropped on one knee before you and how you frowned at me like i was a fuckin’ idiot before saying yes. the way you care about me, the way you love our village and everyone from your home. i won’t leave you because i need to hear you snort when you laugh too hard three times a day minimum or i’ll die. ‘cause if i leave you, i’ll think about you for the rest of my life. ‘cause if i leave you i’ll never get to hear how cheese and grapes are better than cheese and apples and i’ll never get to see you fuckin’ smile at me. ‘cause if i leave—,”

you slap a hand on bakugou’s mouth, “okay i get it.” a soft smile finds your cheeks.

lightly, he pulls your hand away. “‘cause if i leave you i won't get to love you and i think that’s all i’m really here to do. i shouldn’t have been a dickhead before, shouldn’t have lied or used those women. i won’t even have the chance to do it again. i’m sorry for embarrassin’ you too, you can punch me in the throat for that.”

“i’m not going to punch you.”

“you can if you want.”

“i don’t.” you shake your head slowly, before rising to your feet, “so i was planning on spending my day with cheesecake and then helping the villagers. i’ll see you later maybe.”

maybe? spending your day with your horse instead of him? “no love you back? i’m free until the evening though, baby.”

his tone lingers, arm stretching out to grab your hand. but you move out the way just in time so you don’t make contact. by the way you’re stepping back, hands behind your back, you’re refusing to touch him. he pushes, “now tell me you love me.”

you know it’s hurting him not to hear it from you and the feeling makes you grin internally. “i’m still mad at you, you little whore.”

bakugou sighs dramatically, “i said i’m sorry. gimme a kiss.”

you laugh in surprise, “it’s going to take more than saying you love me to make me forgive you for a village’s worth of embarrassment, fuckboy.”

you don’t even give him time to reply, going back to your home to prepare to bathe and change before heading out to see cheesecake. bakugou stays seated on his bench, following your figure. he suddenly feels so full yet empty. he grinds his teeth, cracking his knuckles. you need to say you love him back. he knows you do… right? but now he needs to work for it. can’t be that hard. 

to get to the stables you need to pass bakugou’s training ground. there are sheds of weapons and armour, seating for an audience and a large patch of mud from grass being eroded with all the movement. you only look at the groups of men, some wrestling, others with knives till you land on your fiance smack bang in the middle giving instructions.

your fiance, the only man with no shirt on, is shiny with sweat and his usual slacks cut to shorts. you tut, knowing exactly what he’s doing. he’s all golden brown from being under the sun, abs like freshly baked bread from the oven. he’s still got his iconic silver chains and his earrings in, glistening from perspiration. he pushes his hair back off his forehead, features mushed in an unimpressed frown. any other time and you’d probably walk through the violence and over to him. have a quick chat, palm on his chest. tracing over the scar on his stomach.

though when he’s about to see you, you turn your head away. 

“yn! princess!” 

you have half the mind to completely ignore him but united front and all. people are watching, especially the village women in the stands whose greedy eyes follow your husband like prey.

you sigh, “yes katsuki.”

there’s a tinge of anxiousness in bakugou and he can’t remember the last time he’s ever felt like this. he stands up straighter, rolls his shoulders back and even puffs out his chest a little. then he realises your tapping foot and your darting eyes like you wish to be anywhere but here.

“i was waitin’ for you to walk by. i’m gonna make it up to you,” and your chief of the village fiance reaches behind him to pull out a beautiful blush pink peony. your favourite flower. though its stem is a bit bent from being in his pocket and a few petals are browning from being picked too early.

you take the flower to inspect between your fingertips. “i, err, got more for the house in case i damaged this one.” he can’t stop talking, “kinda fuckin’ did there. fuck. i didn’t want my men to step on it if i left it on the ground. there was loads on the east side of the river and i thought of you. i love you, i told you earlier but i wanna tell you more.” he clears his throat, scratching his head then crossing his arms, “hope you enjoy your day today, i love you.”

bakugou’s first time navigating love and he has no clue how he’s doing. your blank stare isn’t helping. he can’t figure out which cogs are turning in your head and he can’t translate your crossed arms. one of his men walks past you both, looking at their chief’s love being unreciprocated.

“can you get back to fuckin’ work?” bakugou growls and the man holds his hands up then shuffles along.

“thank you. i do like peonies,” you state.

bakugou’s chest burns and his throat gets tight. that wasn’t exactly what he wanted. “thought i could put it in your hair?”

you don’t say yes or no so he takes it upon himself to weave the stem through a braid, the flower landing by the arch of your eyebrow. 

“you look beautiful. like my princess,” he says, eyes glowing as he studies you. you smell good too, buttered lavender and thyme. 

if you weren’t mad at him you’d be climbing on him like a tree in your forest, bringing him in for a kiss on his lips and cheeks. 

instead, you give him a tight smile, “thank you katsuki, i love it.” not him. “i’ll see you later.”

then you jog to the stables.

bakugou’s left surrounded by his men, grunts and harsh chuckles. a hand lands on his shoulder, “she still mad from yesterday?”

he’s not got it in him to tell kirishima to fuck off so he just agrees. “yeah. i’ve never had her like this before.”

“at least she’s not completely ignoring you. i’ve had that before and it’s hell. just get her gifts and shit. women like that.”

he knows what women like, he didn’t realise a whole village still remembered him. you though, what’s going to get you to love him?

“fuck!” bakugou mumbles to himself, water coating his shoes. “who would leave this by the entrance?” 

you watch the bucket of clean water you just collected from the stream now soaked in bakugou’s socks and the hay on the ground. you pat cheesecake’s side.

“i would. i wasn’t expecting any visitors,” you say and it’s clear in your tone for him to go away though stupidly he stays.

bakugou blushes, yes, blushes. hot red spreads across his cheeks and he knows his ears match. you still have the peony in your braid and some how it looks as if it’s bloomed for a second time, brighter and pinker than before.

“sorry, fuck, you got that from the stream too. i’ll replace it when i leave.”

you’re silent watching him.

“now?” his eyes widen, “okay wait here, i’ll be back in a second?”

as soon as he’s gone, bucket in hand, you let out a giggle.

“he’s so stupid, isn’t he? big bad chief not so bad now,” you whisper in cheesecake’s blonde mane, taking your comb to brush through his long strands.

it doesn’t take long at all for bakugou to return, four buckets of fresh stream water in his hands. he refills cheesecake’s water trough first, leaving the two spares in the corner.

he wipes his forehead from the sweat, the heat getting to him. he’s still missing a shirt but you’re not complaining, the glisten of his pecs has you lightly sighing.

“i just want you back,” 

he did not mean to say that. the words surprise bakugou, and he rubs his face with one hand. the action leaves a stripe of dirt across his cheekbone. you want to smile but you hold it back. you haven’t embraced since before your trip yesterday, over twenty four hours of not being wrapped up in his arms. it reminds you of when you first met, the push and pull.

you turn away from him, walking cheesecake back into her pen. you bite down on your lip, “katsuki.”

bakugou knows what that tone means. 

“she’s beautiful, isn’t he? i asked your mother what horse you had as a child and i tried to get one similar to what she described.” you never knew that, “i wrote a letter to all the villages, even the ones that fuckin’ hate me but they still read it. when i first saw him i knew he was the one for you.”

you keep your eyes on cheesecake. his blonde main, the caramel of her body, the patches of auburn. he’s a darling. tender temperament with chunky hind legs for a strong ride. you feel bakugou’s presence behind you but he doesn’t touch you.

“turns out he’s your old horse’s grandson.”

that makes you spin around, “really?” cheesecake is related to your childhood horse? “why didn’t you tell me?”

“honestly, i think it slipped my mind. we were still getting to know each other and i didn’t want to scare you or look like i was tryin’ too hard.” bakugou laughs, “i can admit i was tryin’ very hard.”

“you… did that for me?” your fingertips touch your lips and bakugou flickers his eyes to that spot. 

“i knew i was gonna love you. fuck, i already did then.”

you wanna jump and climb on him. have him push you into the hay and have his way with you. with his strong arms, stubble growing in. all this effort when you barely knew each other.

you point your finger in his face, “stop. i know what you’re doing, you need to know what you did yesterday was so unfair to me. i’m not a pushover.”

bakugou nods rapidly, cradling your hand with both of his. “i don’t think you are. i know i was stupid.”

he steps forward and you can feel his breath on your face. the bare skin of his chest against your off the shoulder white top.

“i love you, yn.” 

you swear your panties soak through just a little.

“i’m not saying it back to you.” 

bakugou grins at the defiance in your eyes, ducking down to brush his lips against yours, “don’t then. as long as you keep me around.”

it’s you who pushes up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. there’s relief from bakugou, you can hear his exhale in the kiss. your whole body tingles, hands moving on their own to feel his chest, his sides, his shoulders. bakugou nudges his head for you to open your mouth and you step away.

“i’m not having sex in front of cheesecake.”

cheesecake huffs to himself, deciding to mow on some hay instead.

“who said sex? i was just kissin’ my wife.”

“kissing you always ends up as sex.”

“you were the one feelin’ me up.”

you whip your hands off him, “you purposely came here without a shirt on.”

“and it worked didn’t it?”

“you are so… annoying.”

bakugou grins. loud and shiny. white teeth and bright eyes.

“‘cause i love you.”

“shut up, katsuki.”

your body heats at his attention. you’ve had this man bend you in the most insane positions but hearing those words from him has you crumbling.

“fuckin’ in the stables would be somethin’.” he looks around the wooden building with devilish eyes and then studies your body like he’s undressing you. “you naked in the hay. you whining for me outdoors. anybody walking by—.”

“okay, that’s it. see you later,” you fluster, “bye cheesecake baby.”

that conversation with bakugou has you unsettled for the rest of the day. you’ve done your lady duties around the village. helping with the public harvest, then reading with the elderly. you’re exhausted and so so uptight. you’d love a rub down and a good, maybe a couple, orgasms to finally relax.

bakugou seems to know that as he meets you right outside the village firepit to walk you back to your home. this time with a black tunic for the evening. he’s thrilled to see the pink peony still at your ear.

“i didn’t ask you to wait for me,” you’re about to sling your bag over your shoulder when bakugou takes it from you and puts it on his.

“i know but i was nearby.”

families wave to you both, saying their good evenings as you both talk.

“i have a surprise for you. something i wanna do for you.” bakugou brushes his fingers against yours. he dying to hold your hand. 

“what is it?”

“surprise, princess. i think you might need it.”

in one of the spare rooms in your home, bakugou has prepared a table layered with multiple cloths. bottles of honey oil from the village on top of them. 

“you looked tense earlier, gonna give you a massage.”

a laugh gets stuck in your throat, “tense? i was tense because you’re a menace!”

bakugou’s joyous beside you, “i know you want one.”

you raise your eyebrow, crossing your arms, “is this for me or you?”

“being with you clothed or unclothed is always a pleasure, princess,” he smirks and you shake your head.

“fine. just because my body aches and… yeah.” you want his hands on your body.

you pull off your top, covering your breasts with your forearms as you begin to climb the table. that’s all you take off, for the time being. you’ll wait to see if he deserves any more of you.

once you’re flat on the table, you shut your eyes, listening for his footsteps behind you. there’s the ring of the glass oil bottle, then the silky slap of the liquid against his hands. you inhale when he lays his hands on your shoulders.

oh fuck. his hands are paws on you, rough and hard, thumbs drawing circles on you. it feels like heaven as he harshly pushes out a knot, just the right pressure to make you release a soft moan.

“that feels so good, ‘ki,” 

once he’s worked your shoulders, he takes the remaining oil on his hands to smooth down your spine and back, leaving your skin glistening beautifully.

“not to be fuckin’ horny but you’re so… perfect,” he lands on. it’s just your back, but it’s your back. the sensual dip, the rise of your ass. “i love you.”

you giggle to his surprise, opting out of replying with words.

he rubs down your back, avoiding staring at the curve of your breasts against the table. maybe this is a bad idea because his crotch is currently aching in his shorts. 

“can you go a little harder? your hands feel amazing,” compliments are tumbling out of you, but who can blame you with hands this large on your body?

bakugou coughs a sound of agreement.

he kneads his palm along your back and you turn your head to face him, eyes still closed. the harder he presses your lips part, a soft exhale leaving them. “nice, so nice.”

the curve of your ass. “can i take this off, princess?”

he’s about to leave you completely naked on the table.

you hum melodically and bakugou feels like he’s testing all of his instincts as he slowly pulls your skirt and panties off in one go.

he’s idiotic for doing this. he pours oil in his hand, slapping some on both palms before rubbing your ass. 

“fuck me,” he mumbles and he notices your fingers twitch. 

honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever been so horny. if he were to spread your thighs apart, he’d be able to see the slick wetness against your pussy lips. you hope you haven’t stained the cloth below you. it’s like a buzz in your veins, a neediness for more even though his hands on your ass makes you feel… sexy.

he loves you and your body. the roundness of your hips, your back, your ass. bakugou lays a kiss on your spine as he runs his hands over your hips.

“it’s taking everythin’ in me to not spank you right now,”

fuck, you want to lift your hips and put your pussy in his face. as soon as you open your eyes, bakugou’s reach yours. he’s waiting for permission, like a good dog.

you bounce your ass, lifting your hips and landing back down, “go on then.”

you’ve never been spanked before, not naked. but you think you’d take anything at this point.

“tell me if it hurts.”

he swats your ass deliciously. you release a moan, the snap of pain quickly being replaced with sweet pleasure. you feel like a cat in heat, dying to rise on your knees and arch your hips in his face.

“oh baby,” bakugou adjusts himself in his shorts. squeezing himself tightly before letting go. “two more times for me, yeah?”

“yes please, chief,” 

he growls above you, spanking you again and watching as your cheeks ripple. your eyes flutter shut with a whine like sugar. it lights you up, fulfills your neediness before making you desperate for more. then he swats you again, quick, before moving to massage your ass right after so you don’t feel too much pain.

“fuck, aren’t you beautiful? i’m fuckin’ luckiest piece of shit to have you, aren’t i?”

the sun begins to set in the distance, warm orange streaming through the room to coat the table. your skin glistens and bakugou feels his balls get heavier. 

“more, ‘ki,” you’re a twitching kitty for him, keeping your face smushed against the table to arch your hips for him on your knees.

bakugou groans like a beast at the sight of you. all wet and slick for him. you’re all needy, begging for his touch.

“your stupid little plan worked. now do something about it,” you say, “now.”

oiled hands spread your ass cheeks open and bakugou licks a stripe across your asshole. he feels like he’s drunk on liquor, plunging his tongue in your hole, feeling the urge to hump himself across the table. he pools his spit between your cheeks attacking the space like a starved man, back from a week long raid. he’d take anything from you, do anything for you.

you didn’t expect him to go there but it makes you thrust back into his face for more. the fact he wants you this bad, willing to have his face stuffed there only turns you on more.

“you’ve got me so fuckin’ hard, beautiful. you taste so good, want you all over me.”

you’re a bundle of nerves and noises. moans and whines mixed with pleasure and a bite of pain when he digs his teeth in the fat of your ass.

“wanna eat you all up.”

then he moves down to your swollen clit, puffy and wet. he does a couple of licks and when you get noisy, he gives you a long suck.

“katsuki,” you screech, “oh my god, oh my— fuck me.”

you’re a scene from his dreams. arching off the table, moving so much he holds you by the hips. he keeps doing what he’s doing, pulling you back into his face from where he leans over the table.

“who got you this wet, princess? tell me.”

you waste no time replying, beads of sweat dotting your forehead, “you did. from when i saw you at the grounds and then the stables.”

“you forgive me for yesterday?” he tries, inserting two fingers inside you at a curve. 

it’s enough to make you gasp sharply before relaxing into him, pushing your ass towards him. “yes, yes i do. just wanna come.”

you give bakugou this look that makes him weak. pouted bottom lip, round glossy eyes, looking completely flustered.

“okay baby, i’ll let you come,” he kisses your hip, two fingers swiping through your folds. “you know i love you?”

“yes ‘ki, i know. i do too.” you whine, eyelids fluttering when he circles your clit. 

it’s glorious, a sugar rush through your body. bakugou takes his time with you, drawing out his apology. “yeah? thank you baby.” he’ll get the words out of you later if they don’t tumble out of you accidentally. “need to show you how much i love you.”

your slick works beautifully around your puffy clit and every time he rounds to your most sensitive spot you twitch, releasing a loud sigh. bakugou groans when you do. he sucks on his thumb for a couple of seconds, then pops it out his mouth.

“tell me if you don’t like it, princess.”

“okay,”

with two fingers still rubbing at your clit, bakugou slowly slides his thumb in your ass. he only gets up to his knuckle, loving how your lips stay parted, face melted into the table.

“is that good?”

“so good, i feel… all full,” you whine. you make an incoherent mumble of syllables and pants, some sounding like his name and others just needy.

a kiss on your ass. “you look like an angel for me, baby. ass up, letting me play with you.”

he takes his fingers off his clit and dips them in your hole, arching his fingers to rub against your walls. you begin to rock into his fingers, “oh my god, katsuki. i’m about to…”

you clench around his fingers and thumb. your back arches to its highest point and you squeal on the table. shaking as delight rips through you, the corners of your vision goes black and for a few seconds, you’re on a different plain. no longer in this room but on a cloud of warmth and sweetness.

“i said i was gonna let you come, didn’t i? anything’ for you.”

bakugou helps you slide down onto your stomach before flipping you around onto your back.

you cover your eyes with your hands as his eyes run down you. you’re shy for some reason unbeknownst to you.

“take your clothes off katsuki. i can’t be the only one naked,” you whine.

bakugou chuckles, a beautiful one that makes you wanna kiss him. he pulls off his tunic and then his shorts, leaving his undergarments on.

you jut your bottom lip out, “why not those?”

he leans down to kiss your lips, “it’s not about me, is it?”

you roll your eyes, “then if it’s about me, i want them off.”

“you should be the chief, orderin’ me around.”

“someone has to do you it,” you grin, laying your hands over your breasts as he pulls down his undergarments.

your pussy weeps at the sight of him. so painfully hard against his chest, standing mighty and tall. his tip is a shiny bulbous red.

“oh katsuki,” you coo, reaching over to touch him.

he doesn’t tell you to stop because he’s dying for your touch. he edges closer to you and when your fingers circle his cock, a low moan spills from bakugou. he leans forward on the table, his body coating you in a shadow.

“feel better, baby?” you whisper and you watch your hard headed fiance nod. you tighten your fist and then he moans all over you.

“oh fuck. this isn’t about me,” he says to himself then, “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, bakugou katsuki,” 

just as bakugou darts his head up to look at you, his head drops down like a plant without light. it’s one loud grunt, his hands clenching the fabric you’re laying on and then he spills all over your stomach. he coats you with white spurts, hips thrusting every time. this big beautiful man is all yours and apparently comes from hearing those three words.

he’s all out of breath, holding himself up shakily once he’s done. 

“i didn’t mean to do that,” he mumbles, cheeks blooming red for the second time today. his eyes become sleepy, exhaustion in his limbs, “you just sprung that on me. you can’t do that, baby.”

you smirk, “i thought it was cute.”

his cock doesn’t go down in size, he still slaps raging hard against his stomach when you let go. you slide your hand up his arm, around his bicep.

bakugou shakes his head huffing a laugh, “i’m not even fuckin’ done with you and you’re calling me cute. i’m not fuckin’ cute.”

you know if anyone saw you right now, they’d say you’re looking at katsuki like he’s hung stars and the moon in the sky. or if they recognise the look in your eye and they’d know it’s love. 

“i love you, katsuki.”

you repeat, just to watch him fall apart over you. he grins like the diamonds he keeps in your basement, like his men brought him back tonnes of meat after a raid. he smiles at you like the love of your life just told you they love you back.

“you’re gonna drive me insane, aren’t you?” bakugou asks and the sight of him leaning over the table, biceps thick and shoulders large, has you prepped and ready for more.

“that’s what you’ve signed up for, chief.”

bakugou reaches over for some spare cloth to wipe you down, “i’ve never come that quick in my life.”

“let’s go again,” 

bakugou hums, giving his cock a tug. “i’m never gonna go down with you lookin’ like this.”

he grabs the oil bottle again, the time pouring it straight on your clean stomach. 

“you know i’m always obsessed with you but you like this,” with both hands he rubs the oil over your breast, grabbing one in either hand. your nipples peak and harden, your back already arching off the table. “has me addicted.”

he’s a mixture of rough and soft, standing on your left to plop kisses wherever he pleases on your face. 

you’re all sensitive, twitching whatever way he goes. “love these two,” then he drags his warm hands down your stomach to your hips, your eyes follow him like everything you’ve ever wanted is in his hands, in him. “i wanna focus on her.”

bakugou stands at the bottom of the table and effortlessly drags you down by your thighs to meet his hips.

you gasp abruptly at the movement, your hair a messy halo around your head. with one hand he taps his cock head against your clit, your legs reflexively coming up to lock around his waist. then he buries his head in your chest, going between sucking your nipples.

you cradle his head against you, as you fling your head back. “oh god. oh that feels so good.”

he’s loud and messy, flicking his tongue over your nipples. “tell me you love me.” he looks up at you and you breathe a laugh.

“are you gonna always be like this?” 

“humour me, princess.”

“i love you, katsuki.”

“i love you too.”

with that, he drags himself up and slides himself inside of you. 

you cosy up to bakugou’s bicep, as he princess carries you to your shared bedroom. the worst thing about being in love is craving comfort from the one that caused you to need it. but bakugou holds you tightly and you’ve never trusted anyone more. he kisses your forehead thrice.

“i’ve missed you, baby.”

“i can’t show my face around there again.” 

“we don’t have to go back but mikasa was good to you? she can come round or i could—,”

“you could do an apology tour. even though i guess those women will hate me forever. i’d hate whoever was marrying you too.”

bakugou grunts and you jab his side in return. “fine, i could do some letters. ‘i’m sorry my dick was so good—,’”

you sit up, “way too soon for jokes, bakugou.”

“sorry, my beautiful wife that i love so much.”

FOR YOU! MASTERLIST

THIS IS SO CUTEEE

indulge me? — gojo satoru

synopsis you and gojo go on an overnight mission and it goes wrong in every way

contents so. much. pining. (2.8k words of it!?), one bed trope, whipped!gojo, ooc gojo, completely self indulgent, a lot of cardiovascular talk, they’re first years in this!

notes first time i’ve written in AGES. sorry :3 ps this is a little snippet from a satosugu x reader series im thinking about starting. thoughts?

(edit: i wrote a part ii)

Gojo Satoru was born blessed. From birth and to death he will always be honored. It wasn't his fault that the Heavens delighted in him. So when Yaga had announced that he and you would be sharing an overnight mission to Kyushu, he nearly leapt in joy (lucky him)!

You, on the other hand, were less than thrilled to find out that you were going to be traveling alone with Gojo Satoru. For two whole days. It was a death sentence.

“Make sure to text me, so I know you're not dead.” Shoko looks between you and Gojo. Either your head will implode as a result of Gojo, or he is gonna be on the receiving end of your wrath. Shoko can’t wait to see which.

“Do take pictures, I heard the onsens there are incredible.” Suguru slyly adds. Satoru perks up at his comment. The two of them share a knowing look before Gojo speaks up.

“Wanna take a dip with me once we get there, [Name]?” He looks into your eyes, his lips are quirked upwards like he’s up to no good (which he is). “I promise I won’t take a peek!” He winks.

“Keep fantasizing, Gojo.”

“Oh I will.” He hums happily. The smile on his lips is kind of cute, you decide. Just a little.

— — — — — — — 

Kurokawa, you come to find out is a very small town in Kyushu. So when people start to go missing, the entire town falls into shambles. Before your trip, Yaga had made it known the enemy you’d be facing. 

“A common denominator of the missing persons is that they were all young women.” He had warned you and Gojo. “It’s an unidentified curse, but I trust that the two of you will be able to handle it.”

Three missing girls. All under the age of 25. Two of which were locals, one being a tourist. 

The moment you arrive on the island of Kyushu, your guard is higher than ever. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of some horny curse,” He looks down at you as the two of you make your way down a small street to your ryokan. Kurokawa was a traditional town, its pride resting on the old culture causing it to be untouched by modern architecture.

Unamused by his nonchalant attitude, you decide to ignore his vulgar comment, “What grade curse do you think we’re up against?”

He makes a noise to show that he’s thinking. “Does it really matter? It’ll be no match for me either way.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still have to figure out what happened to the victims.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, but okay.” Your snow haired peer dismisses. It makes you a bit envious that he doesn’t have to ever feel fear for his life. Must be nice.

The two of you arrived at your designated ryokan soon enough, it was a small town after all. Gojo leads the way with you following right after. You can’t discern any cursed energy in the building, but you still make a mental note to ask Gojo about it after you both are situated. 

An elderly lady in an orange kimono stood behind the desk, smiling at you and you returned it back happily.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a young couple here.” She says. That’s right, with the recent disappearance of young girls, there would be a sudden decrease of tourism around this part of town. “You certainly are a beautiful match!”

You gratefully accept her compliment, “Thank you, but we’re not–”

“Thanks granny!” Gojo wraps a strong arm around your shoulder. “I don’t know how I even managed to win her over!” There’s a wide grin on his face that makes your eye twitch. Leave it to him to tell people the two of you were together. Not only that but he totally disrespected the old lady with his informal talk!

“Unhand me, you!” You forcefully whisper at him, while trying to unwrap yourself from his hold. His arm does not budge even as you try to push it off. What the hell is this boy eating? Gojo chuckles with the old lady while you struggle.

“My, the two of you remind me so much of my husband and I in the days of our youth,” She sighs dreamily. Her age must be interfering with her memory because there was nothing inherently romantic going on between you and Gojo. “How long will you be staying here?”

“Only one night,” Gojo decides that he has tormented you enough and lets you go. He slides her his card and she pulls out something from the old wooden counter she stands behind. 

A single key.

Your eyes bug out. Gojo’s eyebrows raise. You laugh nervously, face feeling warmer than it was thirty seconds ago.

“There must have been a misunderstanding. We need two rooms, ma’am.” You hold up two fingers to emphasize your point. 

The smile on the old woman’s face falls, “I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh? Why not?” You press on further. Surely they could not have been booked out of all of their rooms. Tourism is at an all time low after the strange disappearances.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the strange disappearances in the area. It’s a miracle the two of you have even decided to stay here, which I am very grateful for. That is why I must repay you back by ensuring your safety. Otherwise I must ask you to leave and stay in the next town because I will not allow you to endanger yourself so carelessly.” 

You blink. Neighboring town? That was hours away. The curse was here in Kurokawa. You can’t afford to jeopardize a mission just because of your own feelings.

Gojo’s hand is halfway to the key, but he waits for your approval. You sigh.

“It’s fine, we can do one. Thank you.” You bow your head. She smiled apologetically as she handed Gojo the key. Gojo, unbothered by the revelation, whistles happily as the lady leads the way to your suite.

— — — — — — — 

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

Gojosatowu added getosugu, shoko.ieiri

Gojosatowu You wont believe it!!! shoko.ieiri What the hell is this gc And what the hell is Operation satoru x [name]?  getosugu  how come [name] isn’t in this? Gojosatowu Ladies, ladies, one question at a time please getosugu  Expect a forehead flick for that comment shoko.ieiri  Stfu and just answer the questions Gojosatowu alright alright [name] and i are sharing a room in kyushu!! i may come out of this mission a changed man. shoko.ieiri  someone make sure [name] is still alive and well Gojosatowu I dont appreciate your lack of faith in me >:( shoko.ieiri  Keep a six feet distance from her at all times perv Gojosatowu I might have to for my own sanity. What do you think she wears to bed? shoko.ieiri  You disgust me sometimes getosugu  Only sometimes? shoko.ieiri  Let me correct myself. You disgust me. Gojosatowu Im feeling the love :(

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” You place a hand on your hips as you watch Gojo smile at his flip phone.

“Oh don’t you worry about it,” He closes it. Weird. “What’s the living situation?”

You sigh. “Despite its traditional arrangement, there is a bed.”

Gojo perks up. “Yeesh I’m glad! If I had to sleep on the floor my back would be all sore right on a mission. Y'know how annoying that is?”

You suck your teeth. “Allow me to rephrase myself. There is only one bed.” 

There is an awful silence in the room, save for your erratically beating heart. Of course the old woman decided to place you in a couple’s suite.  

“Heh.” Gojo chortles happily. “Wow, this must be a divine sign from God Himself. I mean, who are we to ignore this?”

“Don’t start,” You hold out an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna go request an extra futon.”

He pouts, “Don’t be like that, sharing a bed with me can’t be that bad.”

“I’m willing to bet otherwise.” You walk past him. The white haired boy watches you go like a sad puppy.

— — — — — — — 

You took your time getting an extra futon, using it as an excuse to get all of the nervousness out of your system of sharing the same room as Gojo Satoru. Sharing a room with a boy was already bad enough, but Gojo? Your heart skipped a beat (out of nervousness, you insist!).

By the time you make it back to the room, the lights are out. You assume that Gojo decided to go to sleep early. You don’t blame him. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of hunting for the curse rampaging Kurokawa. 

The only light source in the room is coming from the bathroom. You sigh. The idiot must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Nonetheless, you were gonna go get unready either way so you make your way to the half open door.

On the sink is a complimentary toothbrush that you help yourself to. You apply some paste and–

There is a sound of something sliding shut from behind you. You look up at the mirror. Standing behind you was Gojo. Wet. And naked. 

“Oh my gosh!” You spit out your toothpaste and ran out of the room. How did you fail to see that Gojo was in the restroom? You blame it on the sliding doors separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Oh my gosh. Your face feels like it’s on fire. He has a six pack. And why does his stupid hair look like that when it's wet? Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. This is so inappropriate.

Shortly after your freakout, Gojo steps out of the bathroom. There was no way you could face him now.

“Aw, don't be so shy now. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see me like this.” Gojo stands in the doorway. There is a towel wrapped around his waist, still leaving him indecent in your eyes.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating Gojo! And lock the door when you’re in the restroom you creep!” You look anywhere but him.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault, was it? You were taking so long I thought you left me here alone.” You can practically hear him pouting. “Either way, you were the one checking me out.”

Your eyes widen, “I was not checking you out! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t feel ashamed, this can all be yours,” He gestures down to his body.

“You freak.” you blanch.

He winks at you.

This was going to be a long night.

— — — — — — — 

It takes you about half an hour to calm down from the bathroom catastrophe. By now, you’re situated in your futon while Gojo is tucked on the bed. If you had to guess, it’d be nearing midnight around now. You just need to close your eyes and get some sleep before your mission tomorrow.

Except you can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, your mind betrays you and an image of Gojo post shower illustrates itself in your mind. And it doesn’t help that he sleeps shirtless. You seriously need your mind cleansed.

That wasn’t your only issue. The room was sub zero. Who knew traditional ryokans had such advanced air conditioning systems? All you could hear was the air conditioning machine overworking itself. You could even argue that it was colder than Shoko’s morgue. And your sleep shirt and shorts were doing little to help insulate you. 

“Wanna come cuddle with me?” The last person you wanted to hear from breaks the silence. You pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not asleep! My six eyes tell me that you’re shivering.” Busted.

“I am not cuddling with you.” You stare at the ceiling above you, arms crossed. How could he even propose such an idea? Has he no shame?

“Well I can’t face the old granny here if my girlfriend ends up dead by freezing!”

“I am not your girlfriend, Gojo. Nor will I die.”

“That’s not what she thinks. Plus we have a mission tomorrow, so I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

“I’ll be fine, Gojo. Now go to sleep.”

“I run hot when I sleep, y’know. Let me be your personal heater.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning.

“I refuse.”

“Well I refuse your refusal.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now c'mon,” He pats the spot next to him. “I’ll even make a wall in between us.”

You hear the bedsheets shuffle and you have to sit up to see that Gojo was stacking two pillows in the middle of the bed to prove his point. You’re nearly certain that the only thing you’ll be catching soon is a headache if you keep up with his antics. It was a tempting offer, one that you would surely accept if it wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, I—”

“...Please?” His voice is softer than you have ever heard it. It was unfair how Gojo was making it harder and harder to reject his offer.

A silent moment passes by.

“...Fine,” You reluctantly get up from your pathetic excuse of a futon. “But no funny business!” You warn him. 

You see Gojo perk up from the bed. He looks at you with expectant eyes, “You got it!” He gives you a thumbs up. 

Whatever. If Gojo knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t try anything. You take in a deep breath before turning to face the opposite direction of where Gojo laid. 

“Good night [Name],” You hear Gojo whisper. You sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight Gojo.”

Eyes closed, you pray a silent prayer that everything will be fine for the remainder of the mission.

— — — — — — — 

Ever since Gojo was young, his body has been used to getting little amounts of sleep. Unsurprisingly, that caused him to have a natural alarm. It was always annoying whenever he woke up at the crack of dawn on a day when he didn't need to, but luckily for him, today it proved to be a blessing. There was an unfamiliar warmth radiating onto his body. Satoru opens his eyes.

He thinks he feels all of his six eyes widen when he feels himself wrapped around another body.

There you were, in all your beauty, lying fast asleep. In his embrace. Soft snores were escaping your mouth and there were stray hairs in your face. Did he mention how beautiful you looked sleeping? He might have to ask Shoko about heart disease because of how fast his heart was beating.

Unfortunately for him, you also seemed to be drifting away from dreamland and back to reality. Your eyes flutter and your eyebrows furrow. Gojo takes this to his advantage and does the worst thing he can think of; pretend to be asleep.

When you wake up, your mind is still hazy from the good night’s rest you had gotten, but not hazy enough to realize that your body was tangled with another’s. And you’re pretty sure the pillow you had been laying on last night was not this hard. You try to delude yourself into believing that this is all a dream, but the effects of your sleep were fading.

It takes all the strength in you to summon the courage to open your eyes. To your horror, you were firmly wrapped in Gojo’s arms and your legs were intertwined.

“What the hell?” You pull yourself away from him. On the floor below the bed laid the two pillows that Gojo had set up as a makeshift wall. You stare at them utter shock.

“No, don’t go, I’ll freeze to death,” Gojo whines, miraculously waking up. You glare at him.

“Explain to me what just happened or I swear Gojo, I’m going to–” You try to threaten him, but you can’t seem to formulate anything.

Unlike you, Gojo looked unbothered by the sudden turn of events. He even looked pleased. There was a lopsided smile on his face as he sighed, “What can I say, I guess you subconsciously want me after all.” 

"I do not—"

“But if I had to guess, I’d say the room got too cold and we most likely cuddled for warmth unconsciously.” He shrugs it off like it was no big deal. You note that his hair is tousled from the night before.

You leave the warm bed you and Gojo had made. His theory was probably true, meaning it was neither of your faults. You purse your lips.

“I suppose that makes sense. I apologize for overreacting, I guess I was under the impression that we had done something lewd last night.” With that comment, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up both your mind and body.

You don’t end up seeing how red Gojo’s face got. It was foreign to feel all the blood rising to his cheeks. He takes one of his hands to slap it over his eyes before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he definitely knows why he likes you. 

All of a sudden Gojo feels like he’s on top of the world. For you, it was just a moment of weakness.

┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊

Extra notes:

gojo wished he and you got to go to the onsen together. 

gojo also regretted not taking a photo of you sleeping soundly in his arms. it would’ve been his new wallpaper. 

for the remainder of the trip, gojo was at an all time high, successfully locating and exorcising the curse in less than an hour.

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, Romance, Smut

Story Warnings: Planned Pregnancy, Forced Marriage, Slight hate to love relationship, Four-Armed Sukuna

Bored with his life, Sukuna decides he wants something else. He wants an heir. A horrible idea for everyone– Especially for the maiden that’s tasked with fulfilling his whim.

Sukuna always gets what he wants in the end.

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[Chapter 1] Offerings