(⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠)

𓂃🦄. BSD MEN HITTIN' THAT G-SPOT !

chuuya, dazai, tecchou

tags. x fem!reader, smut, cockwarming, implied/referenced punishments, grinding, controlled sex, (hard) bite marks, almost caught, blowjob under desk, desk/office sex, jealousy, punishments, brats/brat taming, overstim, marking, lewd acts, praising, degrading, cock drunk/pussy drunk, breeding kink, fingering, clit stimulation, squirting, multiple rounds, kinda riding, petnames, multiple uses of profanity, BANNERS/DIVIDERS MADE BY ME.

ps. leave me alone my shit writing is making me depressed.

all credit on this post belongs to @rusmii . don't steal >:(((

rules (for m.list) | taglist: @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani @xxcandlelightxx @iheartpieck @ezelium @atsquie

" 'Zai," you whisper into his ear, the soft breeze making him shudder for a brief moment. "Yes, 'bella?" He asks, his eyes still on his suicide book that he was reading. An annoyed sigh came out from you. What made his suicide book that he's read over a gazillion times more important than you? You stood there beside him for a minute, thinking about how to get his attention on you next. Dazai on the other hand knew what you were aiming for. Your skimpy nightwear and lounge gaze was enough to tell him everything. And truth be told, he was also feeling the same way. "Osamu~" You say again, straddling his lap as you do so. "Can I cockwarm while you read? Pretty pleeaase?~"

"Why're you moving, darling?"

A lump formed a clog in your throat. The small question he asks you within a few minutes in already has you wishing that you'd never propose this idea to him. He flips a page, humming as he does so. The usual smile he has when he sees you is present on his face.

His cock sits nice and still inside you. The slight curve of his dick being the main culprit of your squirmish movements. " 'M no- 'm sorry." You can feel Dazai eyeing you, the lie you almost gave him making you swallow the lump inside your throat in fear. For a few seconds, Dazai doesn't do anything, his attention long gone from his book as you burrow your head into the crook of his neck.

Clutching his shoulder that you laid your head on, you could feel slight movement in it. Dazai hums lowly, letting you off the hook this time. "Hm~ Fine. Be a good girl, though, and don't let me catch you humping me like a dog. Understood?"

You clench your teeth. Whew, for a moment there you thought you were fucked there. Punishments with Dazai was unpredictable, and you didn't intend on passing dangerous territory just yet. "Yes sir." — "Good girl," he praises, his warm words making your pussy ache.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, the silent lewdness of the situation made it wetter as time went on. You close your eyes, attempting to focus on Dazai's humming. His melodious tune being able to calm even the scorchest of hot headed men. You sigh, subtly rocking your hips against his. The unreactive Dazai giving you more courage to keep grinding on his cock.

Eventually, you heard the book close. The sound makes you halt and pull away. "You done readin'?" You question him when you see your lover setting the book aside onto the lamp table. Dazai hums, his soft expression calming your beating heart. Just for a moment there, you thought he caught you — "About 56 times." He cuts you off.

What? What was he talking about? You look at him, making eye contact almost immediately. Though he does not say anything, his sly smile and slanted eyes do. Your eyes start darting to anywhere but him, moving to the wall behind him. "My eyes are here," he points to his face, his voice rephrasing what he said earlier, "About 56 times did you disobey my orders."

"I -.." Excuses start piling up inside your throat. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He caught you, and there was nothing you could do about it. " 'I' What?" He mocks, the sinful smile he gives you was enough to have you breaking down. "I - I don't know! I -"

Endless blabber escapes from you. Dazai sits there and watches. Letting you cry out your frustration. He rubs the back of your head, a mocking coo leaving him. "Aw~ There, there darlin'. Don't cry, I promise I'm not that disappointed in you. You did your best, and I acknowledge that. Unfortunately, we both know that you could've done better." Bitter words come from him.

You were at a loss for words. No amount of crying and pleading was going to get you of your punishment now. Dazai doesn't wait for a response from you, though, pushing your chin up using his fingers. He was now eye to eye with you as he leaned forward, his head tilted to the side to line up with your lips. " 'M not gonna punish you too harshly. Despite you disobeying me, your grinding almost made me toss the book," Dazai admits, which makes your mouth drop open in surprise for just a split second.

"And for that - " He thrusts up hard. A loud moan escapes from your lips before you can muster any form of blockage. " - Ride for as long as you want." His smooth sailing words pur into your mouth. His own capturing yours into a soft, passionate kiss that matched the rhythm of your crotches grinding together. " 'Samu! - S- Osamu!" You moan his name, the tip of his dick rubbing against your bundle of nerves.

His eyes never leave yours. Every breathless grunt he lets out only spurs you on to bounce on his dick. The act makes him groan before he stops you from doing anymore. "Osamu..!" You whine, wondering why he stopped you. "No, I said for as long as you want. Not whatever you want."

You nod your head repeatedly, wanting to cum and get this over with. Dazai seems to agree so as well — using his hands to guide your hips. The slow grind making you cry tears of frustration. "Please! Please! - Osamu- Please! Please! - " — " Sh sh, I got you." Dazai reassures you, fastening the pace.

"Mmhm!~ Osamu! Osa - Osamu!!~" You squeal, his dick rutting inside your gushy cunt as he marks your neck made you see white. The tight clench of your walls made Dazai bite down a little too hard, tasting bits of iron in his mouth.

Dazai continues to grind his hips through your orgasm, feeling his own high building up. "Shit - Fuck! - cummincummin - Ghnn~" He groans into your neck. The pressure that had accumulated by your grinding earlier toppled down on his orgasm.

The white ribbon laced your walls deep inside you, the pressure of his dick pressing hard on your g-spot, giving you another orgasm. Hearing your second wave of squeals, Dazai uses a hand to rub your lower back, thrusting up slightly to help you ride out your second orgasm.

"Good - " He pants heavily, his flushed face with swollen lips, " - Good fucking girl, holy shit."

"And for -!" Chuuya hiced. His brain being thrown for a loop as he grips the new paperwork that was given to him by Akutagawa. Said man seems to notice his red face and questions him. "Sir, are you alright?" Chuuya waves him off, "Yeah - just.. - feeling a little hot in this room right now - how high did I set the temp again?" He laughs awkwardly and orders Akutagawa to go check. While Akutagawa is distracted, Chuuya looks down to find his pants unzipped and you sucking the tip of his dick. "Stop. Akutagawa is here. Let's do this when he's gone," he orders you, attempting to swat you hand away from his balls. But before he could do that, Akutagawa returned. "Sir, seems like the temperature is just below average - are you sure you're okay? — "YES! You - You may leave." Chuuya stutters on his words when he feels you engulf his entire dick into your mouth.

"You - " A slam of his hips has you spiraling into moans. " - Fucking - " Thrust " - Brat," he snarls above you. The nasaled expression on his face matching the rhythm of his hips.

"Chu-uuyaa!!~" You squeal, wrapping your legs around his waist as his dick plunges straight into your core — his dick hitting that spot every time he thrusts in. He groans, the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock perfectly could make him cum right then and there. "Yeah? That feel good? Fuck - bet that shit does." He slaps your thigh. "Brats like you shouldn't even be getting dicked down so good," he continues. His hips never faltering its rhythm.

"Good! Feels so good! Please Chu - Chu fuck me!" Affirming his accusations only made Chuuya more bricked than the hardest damn rock. All papers, pens, and other random shit had been thrown off his desk in a haste. He'd care about it when he was done with you. "Mhm..~ Ha! 'Dunno. Should brats like you get fucked like good girls? Hm?" He puncuates every word with a slow, sharp thrust. " 'Cause the whore 'm fuckin' is on Santa's naughty list right now."

You arch your back, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. You roll your head up as more nonsense came from you. His dick rubbed your spot intensely while grinding your crotches together. The sharp, angled, shallow thrusts almost, causing you to nearly shut one eye from losing control of most of your senses.

"Ahnn!~ - Yesss! Pleaaaasse - " You slur on your words, your tongue falling loose in your mouth. Chuuya tugs your arms to him and grips your wrists, sliding your body back and forth across the desk. "Chuuya! Chuuyachuuyachuuya!!!~" — "Fuck - keep moanin' my name like that and I might cum right now," he groans above you. His head was thrown back, face full of bliss.

Chuuya angles his dick again, making sure the tip and side of his length run against your g-spot. He hears another squeal, making a mental note to come back to this angle when he's fucked you silly.

Actually, scratch that — with how you're clinging your vices onto him so tightly, he can only assume that you were cumming right now. "Shiiit." A curse falls upon him when he finally notices the tight clench of your pussy. Chuuya didn't even realize you were having an orgasam until he saw your fucked out, lewd face. "Fuck - Oh fuck.." He grunts, slowing his thrusts as to hold out longer.

"Geez ‐ Shit - [Name], did anyone ever tell ya' how hot you look when you get all fucked out like that?" He asks, a grin spread from ear to ear. As soon as you catch your breath, you hum. "Yeah - you," you release a breathy laugh. "Me? Just me?" He asks again leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Who else would I be letting raw dog me? Not Michi."

The casual mention of your coworkers nickname caught Chuuya's attention. "Michi? Tachihara? Since when the fuck did you and and that fucker get on friendly terms?" A shallow upturn thrust surprises you. "Huh - Gh~ - What? Me and him have always been on friendly terms - Ogh!~"

"That's such fucking bullshit 'n you and I both know it." Chuuya interrupts you, thrusting into your cunt again. "W-wait!~ Chu-uya!" You moan. "You wanted me to fuck you like the dirty street slut you are — I'm gonna fuck you like a damn bitch in heat waitin' for a new batch of litter."

Never one to go back on his word, Chuuya picks up his pace, not caring about his rhythm. He aims for the same spot that has you crushing boulders when poked there. "Chuuya!~ Please! Please! T'much! So - " — " - Cut that shit out, overstim is your favorite pass time activity." His balls slap your ass from how deep he's inside you. "Don't wanna hear you give me that 'too much' crap. Yer' perfectly capable of handling 'nother few orgasms."

He was right. Fuck — Chuuya was so right. The mini act you put on was nothing but a facade of how you were feeling internally.

Lewd images racked your brain. The visual thought of Chuuya breeding you straight up was enough to get your pussy pulsing in a matter of seconds. "Fuckfuck! Chuuya! Please, 'm gonna cum!! Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cummm!!~" Chuuya grunts above you, sweat dripping down him. "Fuck - you feel so fuc-kin' good! Sweetheart ya' feel so fuck - ughhn!~"

At the very last moment, Chuuya angles his dick exactly like how it got you to cum right away. Your jaw drops open, your eyes roll back, and your back arches into Chuuya's chest as he leans down to burrow his head into your neck. "Mhm~ mmm - 'm cummin - shit - 'm cummin' doll." Was your only warning before you felt his cum sticking to your walls. The creamy goop being fucked deeper as he rides out both of your orgasms with slowing thrusts.

A few more shallow thrusts, and you two are whining in overstimulation, Chuuya quieter than you. He pulls away when he feels your legs unwrap from his waist, watching them dangle to the side in exhaustion.

He pants heavily. His face is bright red and messy hair is a perfect image to burn into your memory.

"Chuuya," you call out to him, way out of breath to even talk. "Yeah?"

"You do remember that you were the one who forced me and Tachihara on friendly terms, right?"

"..... Oh yeah." He scratches the back of his head before pulling out to slap his dick on your cunt. "Givin' you a break before we continue," he winks — readjusting the position of your body.

"You wanna what?" Tecchou answers your question with another question. "Wanna get fingered so hard until I black the fuck out," you shrug your shoulders. The request wasn't expected, just a suggestion to spicen up your guys sex life — that was a lie, it was because you saw him flexing his fingers the other day and couldn't get the image of him being past knuckle deep inside your cunt out of your head!

"Hnn!!~" You squeal, the fingers prodding gently against your g-spot pulling the second orgasm out of your for the night.

Tecchou doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out to stare at it. You glance at him, wondering what he had in plan. "Tecchou?" You get up on your elbows, eyes full of concern. Did you cross a line? Was this too much? Before you could ask any of the questions that popped up in your head, Tecchou slips his fingers into his mouth — fingers coated in your slick.

He sucks on his fingers, his tongue webbing around each one that was inside of you. "Tecchou.. What the fuck..?" You said, shock filling your brain as you watched him finger fuck his own mouth with your arousal.

He hums, his fingers coming out with a pop as he pushes you back down on the bed. "Tecchou, what the fuck was that? Why did you just - " — "Why is this a problem but not my face between your thighs?"

Speechless, you turn your head away. The thundering pump of your heart is not helping with thinking of anything to retort back. When Tecchou receives no answer from you, he drops his hand down to your clit — the gentle press bringing you back to earth. "third round?" He asks as he circles around your clit.

"Y-yeah -" Your breath hitched when he slipped three fingers inside your sopping cunt. The stretch of thick, veiny fingers stuffed up your pussy was almost enough to push in two mini didlos in there. You moan, a loud one that encouraged Tecchou to continue with what he was doing. " 'Gonna slip a fourth one. Can you do it?" A question for consent before he makes room for another finger.

"Mhm," you nod, already feeling the finger joining the others. Hissing, you bit your lip. The pain was mild, but the slight burn of the stretch made your eyes water a bit. "Hm," He hums again. "Relax, you're going to make me hurt you." His fingers still inside, not once moving until he feels you unclench around them. "Mm - I'm trying."

Tecchou doesn't seem to be happy with that response. "Don't force yourself." Was all he said before you felt him shift his fingers around. What came next was a gasp being ripped from you and another curl to the same spot. "T-Tecchou!~" You moan, feeling your spot being prodded at. The soft pressure he applies every time he presses down makes you squirm a bit. "I can feel you getting tighter. Does it feel good?" He asks, voice soft and gentle.

"Yes! Please!" You bring a hand down to your clit, rubbing it in a way that gives you the most pleasure. Tecchou's speed increases, the fingers curling inside all hitting the same spot. Your hips start to shake, the pressure of your approaching orgasm building up in your abdomen. "Te-Tec-hou!~" Hiccups escape through your sobs. Tears streaming down your cheeks due to the pleasure.

" 'M - cummin' - 'M cummin' !" Your body squirms. Tecchou pins you to the bed, fingering as fast as he can. "You can do it." The first praise of the night being whispered so lightly. His usual blank expression is now a mix of proudness and adoration. "C-can't! T'much! Too much!" You sniffle, pulling your arm back for better support. Tecchou takes it upon himself to do the job for you, using both of his hands, he plunges straight into you — simultaneously adding a fifth finger when he sees the puddle you made. His other hand doing the same gentle circles around your clit.

And finally, after a few minutes — the blockage in your abdomen snapped. The floodgates of your cum squirting out clear fluid as Tecchou re-angled his hand. "Ghhhh~ Ohhggg...!" You whine, your legs threatening to kick as you slightly lift your body off the bed.

Tecchou watches mesmerized by your shot, aiming at his chest directly. The clear fluid dripping down his pecks and into his abs below. "Woah.... That was so hot."

hi was gonna originally write nikolai + fukuzawa but didn't have motivation for them :(... I did start out nikolais but don't even get me started on fukuzawa.... here's a snippet of nikolais

do you guys want me to write a pt2 with fuku+niko??

⛇₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ AND I CHOSE YOU, ‘CAUSE YOU’RE ALL I NEED ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai

XMAS SERIES: 2 TURTLE DOVES - bsd scs

some winter prompts/scenarios with the bsd men…and other romantic things they spoil you with.

a/n. let’s not talk about how behind we are on this series LOL. i had to rewrite this twice bcz i didn’t like the direction my first attempt was going in. i still dk how to feel abt this.

info. fem!reader. fluff fluff !! profanities from chuuya. established relationships. kissing. mentions of a fake! machete from nikolai lmao.

DAZAI says: it’s too cold to get out of bed! can’t we just stay in and cuddle?

As soon as your eyes fluttered open, you were greeted with the realization that it was far too late to wake up at this time on a weekday. You could see the sun outside your window, overlooking the blanket of snow that had fallen the night before. Panicking, you tried to turn towards your nightstand to catch a glimpse of your clock to confirm your thoughts, but a leg wrapping around your waist stopped you.

“Osamu?”

“Morning, beautiful,” Dazai’s sleepy voice replied, continuing to trap you in an embrace with his arms.

“What time is it?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, but that only made you feel even more uneasy. You forcefully shifted out of his grasp to look at your clock—woah, you were both supposed to be at work an hour ago.

You sat up on the bed, startling Dazai. “Osamu! We’re supposed to be at work! Why didn’t the alarm go off…I haven’t played with it lately…”

Another realization. You sharply eyed Dazai with a frown, who, in contrast, had his signature mischievous smirk on his face, even through tired eyes.

“Did you turn it off?!”

“Huh?” He yawned. “Now, why would you accuse me of such a thing? I don’t see why the alarm should be turned off.”

“Exactly!” you replied. “But who else could’ve done it? A ghost?”

“Hmm.” He tapped his index finger on his chin in thought. “Oh, I know!

“How about fate?” His hand moved to cup your cheek as he answered you in a flirtatious voice. You tried not to cringe at how corny he sounded. “What if fate wanted us to miss work today so we can stay in and spend time together inste-”

“Now this is where you gave yourself away!” you cut him off, moving towards the end of the bed to stand up. “Who said we’re missing work? It’s better to be late than not show up at al-”

Dazai grabbed your arm, pulling you back in.

“Osamu!”

“Yeah, unless you’re sick! Wouldn’t want to infect everyone else with a cold, right?”

“But none of us are sick?”

“Too bad,” he whispered, pulling you back under the covers. “I already called the Agency. I told them that…” he made dramatic coughing sounds, “...you were sick, and of course, you got me sick too!”

“What?!” you were in disbelief. “You liar! You could’ve at least not put the blame on me!”

“Oh, don’t be mistaken! I said it was my fault—you just looked so adorable while sick, I just had to cuddle up with you the whole night! So naturally, I got sick too. Isn’t that believable? I’d do the same if it actually happened.”

You facepalmed. “You’re not making it past Ranpo.”

“Don’t worry about him. I’ve taken care of that too,” Dazai smiled. There was no getting around Ranpo, but it would only be a problem if he exposed the lie. So, Dazai had bought him a stockpile of snacks to keep his mouth shut.

You sighed before snuggling up against him. It looks like you weren’t going anywhere today. Not that you were complaining anymore—if your lover handled everything anyway.

“So why did you want to stay in?” you asked.

“Because I knew I’d feel cold if I got out of bed.” The brunette’s fingers started stroking through your hair as you rested your head on his chest, relaxed by both his hand and the faint thump of his heartbeat.

“That’s it?” you laughed. “You didn’t want to be cold?”

“That, and because I want to spend time with my belladonna, duuh.” Dazai turned you around so he could see your face.

“You look pretty. Just like an angel, more bonny than any other snow angel.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes studied you in admiration, flustering you. You were in awe that he could call you that when you had just woken up—you probably looked like a mess. He was the one who looked lovely—amber eyes peeking through his untidy hair and pretty eyelashes, the faint pink that surged through his cheeks when you kissed his knuckles, his bandaged chest that was revealed under his slightly unbuttoned pajamas…Dazai looked as dreamy as hearing his morning voice. And man, was it attractive, too.

He gave innocent pecks from one corner of your mouth to the other, and you reciprocated. You gently peppered each other’s faces with sleepy kisses until you rested on his torso again.

“That’s right, bella,” he cooed, rubbing your back. “We can relax today.” You wrapped your arms around him, enjoying the warmth he provided. “And if you’re hungry, we can order something from wherever you want later, yeah?”

You nodded with a smile. “Sounds perfect.”

CHUUYA says: let’s go ice skating, darling!

“C’mon, doll, it’s okay. Promise I’ll catch you if you slip!”

A local lake had frozen over, and you’d always wanted to learn how to ice skate, so Chuuya saw it as the perfect opportunity to teach you. Yet now, you stood at the edge with your skates, intimidated by the sapphire water that rested below the thin layer of ice and having nowhere to hold onto for support. Thankfully, it was just the two of you there; you would’ve felt even more nerve-wracked if others were watching.

“You’re so rude, Chu! You left me!” you whined, your voice traveling across the serene scenery. Chuuya simply laughed—he had skated a few feet off into the lake, waiting for you to follow. Yet, to you, it seemed so much farther than that.

“I’m right here!” he replied. He motioned for you in a way that reminded you of how a parent encourages a baby to take their first step. “Here, baby!” He cooed, holding his arms out. “You can do it.”

“Are you mocking me?! You’re talking to me like a little girl!”

“You are my girl though, sweetheart,” the ginger responded.

You sighed, your breath visible as it fanned out into the cold. “There has to be some sort of compensation, though, if I do fall!”

“I’ll massage whatever hurts if anything does,” he promised.

“Fair.” Chuuya’s massages were priceless.

You slowly stepped onto the ice, trying to keep balance on the blades attached to your feet. You looked up at Chuuya, panicking.

“Bend your knees.” You immediately followed, which helped you stabilize yourself.

“Now push off from one knee to the other,” Chuuya continued. Slowly, you started moving towards him, skating into his arms when you reached him.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked through the embrace. “Good job. Now c’mon.”

Chuuya started leading you across the ice, helping you get used to the rhythm and being in sync with each other. Once he saw you get the hang of it, he suggested something.

“We can go really fast, yknow,” Chuuya proposed. “If you want…I think it’ll be exciting.”

“Exactly how fast?” you asked.

“I’d use my ability to enhance it,” he smiled. You knew that would speed you up tons.

“Okay,” you said after contemplating for a few seconds. “I trust you.”

Chuuya moved in front of you to hold your hands in his. “Hold on tight, baby!”

You gripped onto the executive as he activated his ability. And with one push, after making sure you knew it was coming, you two zoomed across the lake, wind breezing past you. You screamed—in surprise, fear, and exhilaration, as Chuuya steered you both, even more talented doing it backwards.

“Damn, you’re flying, doll!” he exclaimed and loosened his grip on one of your arms. Chuuya spun you around on the ice as he slowed the both of you down, bringing you to a complete stop with a kiss.

“Already like a pro,” he praised. “You learned so fast. And what’d I say? I promised I wouldn’t let you fall.”

You chuckled, feeling warmth heat up your frost-nipped cheeks as Chuuya cupped your face with his fingers. “I still want a massage, though. Pleeease?”

He smirked. “Fuck, I could never refuse since you asked so nicely. And I guess you deserve something for doing so well on skates. Of course.”

“Yay!” You cheered as you skated in a circle around Chuuya before connecting his lips with yours once again.

“This was incredibly fun, Chu.”

FYODOR asks: is the fireplace not enough? you need me to warm you up, too?

“It’s cold.”

You and Fyodor were in a cabin high up in the mountains, the epicenter of planning his next mission. Fyodor often traveled, and you always accompanied him, despite his warnings of how boring those journeys would be because his attention would be mainly focused on his paperwork and mapping out the areas by the temporary headquarters.

You always reassured him you were completely fine with it. You understood his job and were used to him not having his attention on you all the time. You were content reading through his collection of novels with his cursive annotations scribbled throughout the pages to pass the time while he sat devising schemes.

Though right now, you were starting to shiver, even below the three layers of your sweater. The heat radiating from the candle on the desk you sat reading at wasn’t enough—you were still cold.

“Put your coat on,” Fyodor replied from another table. He had let you have the true desk by the bookshelf with the comfy chair to lounge in while he took the dining table.

“It’s too bulky. It’ll be uncomfortable,” you said, gliding your hand over a page.

You heard a sigh. “Must you always choose comfort over practicality?”

“Of course, when I have the privilege,” you chuckled. “Can I light the fireplace?”

Fyodor looked up from his work. “Yes, I’ll help you.”

“Are you sure? You seem busy. I can do it myself.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t distract me with anything else.”

You gave him a knowing smirk. “I’m not sure if I can guarantee that,” you replied as you headed for the wooden logs in the back. Fyodor followed you, helping you carry a few over to the fireplace.

You ensured all the air vents were open as he threw the wood in, starting the fire with a lighter. Fyodor sat in the single armchair right in front of it, checking to see if it was stable from afar.

“How’s this?” he asked, watching you on the floor, getting close to feel the flames. “Warming up?”

“Yes,” you responded, turning towards him.

“Good. You can sit here while I return to-“ he was both cut off in speech and from getting up when you lowered yourself onto his lap. “Milaya…“

“I warned you I couldn’t guarantee it,” you whispered, straddling him. You weren’t forceful—each move was as graceful as a ballerina’s glide, and it was probably because, despite his words, Fyodor differed to fight back.

“Stay for a little, please,” you softly pleaded, trapping the ravenette even more by wrapping your arms around his neck. “Can you take a short break?”

“You’re asking me as if you’re giving me a choice,” Fyodor chuckled, still seeing you give him no room to leave. “Fine. I’ll indulge in your wants this once.”

“It’s more of indulging in my needs,” you corrected him, looking into violet eyes. You then picked up the book you had been reading earlier to continue.

“Enjoying it so far?” he asked, moving the hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ears.

“Yeah. But I’m not going to lie, I think I like your annotations more than the actual book.”

“How flattering.” Fyodor smiled. “I enjoyed reading it a lot, too, though. That’s why I wrote so much.” You flipped open to the page you left off on when you suddenly had an idea.

“What if you read to me?” you asked with a giggle.

His face showed rare, genuine surprise for a moment. “Hm? It’s not like this is some bedtime story…

“I’m not against it, though.”

And so, he started reading to you. You sang in victory in your head because though you would never admit it to him—Fyodor had too much ego for you to heighten it even more—you loved his voice. His accent laced the words of the plot that resumed as he spoke from page to page.

You couldn’t think of anything more perfect. Hearing the satisfying tone of his tongue accompanied by the ambiance of the fireplace and the flipping of pages…you could stay nuzzled up against him like this forever.

“I thought you said you were enjoying it,” Fyodor paused after some time, noticing your eyelids drooping and head limp against his shoulder. “Yet you’re falling asleep.”

“I am,” you said, your words slurring. “I’m just really comfy like this. It feels cozy…makes me sleepy…”

You tucked your face into his neck. Fyodor gently closed the book before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Well, it can’t be helped…” he whispered. “Sweet dreams, dorogaya.”

NIKOLAI says: let’s build a snowman!

“Why are you putting the carrots for eyes?” You shook your head in disappointment as you watched Nikolai create his ‘snowman.’ It hardly looked like one, honestly. The only thing normal about it was the base—which you had helped him with. Three spheres of snow stacked upon each other to make the snowman’s body. The rest…was very Nikolai.

He had put the carrots as the eyes. And the snowman had three orange, pointy eyes. As for the mouth, he sculpted a smile out of clay, which was fine, but of course, he made it in a way that looked very ominous. Then, the jester had decorated it with a bunch of colorful pom-poms. The whole thing was very random, but you knew something like this was coming.

“And finally!” Nikolai pulled out a fake plastic machete.

“Kolya, what the heck?! Now, we really can’t leave this here! What if some kid stumbles upon it and takes the knife?”

“It’s fake, baby, don’t worry!” He replied, running his finger along the sharp end.

“Well, yeah, but still! I don’t think anyone’s parents would appreciate that!”

Nikolai sighed before a portal appeared, swallowing his entire snowman and the machete inside.

“You play too safe sometimes, love.”

“Where did you transport that to?!”

“The Sky Casino,” he giggled. “I’m sure Sigma will find the new decoration lovely!” You immediately felt pity towards the poor man—you imagined him having to clean up a puddle of melted snow and other objects in the casino.

You just stood for a moment before Nikolai spoke again.

“Okay, I’ll actually make something you like,” he said. “Could you help me with the base?”

You didn’t know what he was going to do next, but you helped him anyway after making him promise he wasn’t going to pull out anymore weapons, real or fake. You stacked the snow on top of each other and waited to see what he was going to do next.

Nikolai transported two buttons that reminded you of your eye color to place on the snowman’s face as its eyes. He then used two sticks to create a cute smile. Then, he pulled out a hat and scarf that looked like the exact ones you were wearing…

“Wait, huh?” You glanced down at your attire and then at the articles, you saw Nikolai dressing the snowman in. “Where did you even get that?”

“The place where you got yours, duh!” he responded. You tried to push away the thought in your head that he most likely stole it. But now, you understood what he was doing. So, while he finished replicating you, you started a snowman right next to his.

“Kolya, can you please let me borrow your top hat? And a green and a gray button?”

His face grew elated. “Sweet dove! You’re doing what I’m doing!” He summoned what you had asked for. “Here you go!”

In the end, Nikolai had created a snowman of you, and you had built a snowman of him. It made your heart warm at how sweet it was.

“Yours looks so cute!” you exclaimed, looking at the one of yourself. You then teased him. “Honestly, I’m surprised you were capable of this.”

“No snowman will ever be as cute as you,” he responded with a wink. “And what can I say? I’m full of surprises.” He then threw himself onto you.

“And you made me! My heart could burst right now…look at us together!” You felt everything happen at once after that—one moment, Nikolai was spinning you in the air, absolutely thrilled, and the next, his lips sealed yours in a passionate kiss.

“Quiz time,” Nikolai whispered on your mouth.

“What must’ve I done to deserve the best girl in the world?”

rbs are appreciated; they are your christmas gift to me! <;3

dec 2023 mlist.

tags : @kissesmellow21

© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.

"my pretty girl"

I'm unzipping your jeans with my teeth.

i will fall in love with you over and over again | katsuki bakugo x reader

summary:

Your quirk was meant to save lives, but with every revival, it slowly chipped away at your memories. Ochako smiled brighter, Deku lingered longer, and Katsuki stayed—always stayed.Even when you forgot his name. Even when you forgot him.

warnings: major angst, memory loss, spoilers!

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The first time it happened was when you revived Katsuki’s deceased cat.

You were children then, barely old enough to understand the weight of life and death. But when he found you crouched by the creek, his small hands trembling over the lifeless body of his beloved pet, his voice was already hoarse from calling your name.

“Please,” he choked out, red eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Do it. Just…just bring her back.”

You stared at him, uncertain. The raw desperation in his voice made you second-guess whether this was really the same Katsuki who shoved you off swings and tugged on your pigtails.

But his voice cracked again, and you gave in.

Tiny hands trembling, you knelt beside him, fingers brushing against the cat’s cold fur. You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t know if it would work. You were too young, too inexperienced but the light of your quirk flickered faintly between your palms.

And suddenly, she stirred.

Just for five minutes.

The cat let out a weak meow, nuzzling into Katsuki’s trembling hands. His chest hitched with a choked sob as he cradled her, burying his face in her fur.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay, girl,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He hugged her tightly, arms curled protectively around the frail creature.

And when the light in her eyes slowly dimmed once more—her small body going limp in his arms—he pressed a final, tear-soaked kiss to her head.

Then he turned to you.

Without a word, he threw his arms around you, clinging to you as though you were the only thing anchoring him to the earth. His fingers fisted the back of your shirt, shoulders trembling violently.

But your eyes were dull.

Blank.

Who… was this again?

Your fingers twitched faintly at your sides, your gaze vacant as you stared over his shoulder. There was warmth against you—the faint dampness of his tears soaking into your shirt. But you felt nothing.

When he pulled back, his red, swollen eyes searched yours.

“You okay?” he asked softly, voice cracking slightly.

You blinked slowly. Tilted your head faintly.

“…Huh?”

Confusion flickered briefly across his face, but it was gone in an instant. He forced a shaky grin, nudging your forehead with his.

“Idiot,” he muttered hoarsely, ruffling your hair. “You look wiped out.”

But the faint crease between his brows lingered. And he stared at you a little longer than before.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Over time, Katsuki learned the cruel price of your quirk.

How ironic.

The ability to heal and revive—the very embodiment of hope—was also your slow undoing. A power so heroic, yet its cost so merciless.

In order to save someone, you had to lose pieces of yourself. Slivers of your heart. Fragments of memories you once held dear.

And Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder—once you were pushed to the limit, would you forget everything?

Would you forget him?

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Izuku’s body hit the ground with a sickening thud, sending dust and pebbles scattering across the broken bridge. His fingers scraped along the jagged pavement, knuckles bloodied from the fall.

He groaned softly, clutching at his shoulder as he slowly pushed himself up.

“Dammit…” he hissed through clenched teeth, wincing at the sharp sting pulsing through his arm.

But before he could rise, you were already by his side.

“Don’t move, Izu.”

Your voice was light, a soft, reassuring hum as your hands hovered over his injuries. A faint golden glow flickered between your trembling fingers, spilling warmth over his torn skin. Slowly, the bloodied scrapes faded—the broken bone mending beneath your touch.

Izuku sucked in a sharp breath as the pain dulled, his muscles loosening slightly.

But instead of relief, his chest tightened.

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist before you could continue.

“You shouldn’t use your quirk in times like this.” His voice was low but firm, his green eyes narrowed with concern. “You know how it affects you, (N/N). I can handle myself just fine.”

You forced a sheepish smile, brushing him off with a lighthearted laugh.

“Don’t worry, Izu!” you chirped, your voice too bright—too forced. “This is just me practicing for when I become a hero… I have to get used to it someday, don’t I?”

You meant it as a joke, but the faint quiver in your voice gave you away.

Because even now, you could feel it—the subtle sting behind your eyes, the faint disorientation creeping in at the edges of your mind.

It was happening again.

But you pretended not to notice.

“Idiot.”

The sharp voice came from behind you, laced with unmistakable irritation.

You barely had time to turn before Katsuki’s shadow loomed over you, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His voice was low, cutting, but you caught the faint tremor in it.

“The dumbass is right,” he muttered, jerking his head toward Izuku. His crimson eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t waste your efforts on shit that can be fixed easily.”

You blinked at him.

And before you could say anything, Izuku let out a low, incredulous scoff.

“Wait—did you just agree with me?” he asked, staring at Bakugo with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Bakugo’s scowl deepened instantly. His glare snapped toward Izuku, eyes blazing with irritation.

“Shut up, dumbass!” he barked, fists clenching slightly at his sides.

Izuku’s lips parted slightly, brows knitting faintly in surprise. But then—just barely—he smirked.

“You agreed with me,” he taunted softly, his voice deliberately teasing.

Bakugo shot him a withering glare, his jaw clenching sharply. His hands twitched, sparks crackling faintly at his palms.

“Say it again and I’ll throw your nerd ass off this bridge.”

But Izuku only grinned wider, his eyes glimmering with barely concealed amusement.

And even as the two bickered—hurling threats at each other with all the ferocity of childhood rivals—you knew.

You could see it in the way they lingered close. The way they subtly kept their bodies angled toward you. The way their eyes kept flickering back—searching, wary, worried.

Because they both cared.

And you smiled softly, even as the edges of your mind blurred slightly. Even as you knew you were losing another sliver of yourself.

But you didn’t say a word.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The use of your quirk became more frequent as the three of you entered U.A. The missions grew harsher. The battles bloodier. And with them, so did the people who worried for you.

You were stronger now. Sharper. Your control over Reverie was improving—you could heal faster, revive longer. You were starting to master it, refining the edges of your power with each mission.

But the cost remained the same.

The memory loss never left—it simply grew quieter, more patient. Lurking beneath the surface, gnawing at you slowly.

It would take everything eventually.

You knew it.

And so did they.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Your hands shook faintly as you pressed your palms over the woman’s bloodied chest. Her breath was shallow, fading fast, but you didn’t stop.

Golden light flickered from your fingertips, mending the torn skin, sealing the wound. You poured every ounce of strength you had left into her frail body, coaxing her pulse back to life.

You felt your quirk pulling at you—taking from you. You could feel it in the sharp sting behind your eyes, in the dull ache spreading behind your temples.

When you pulled back, the woman’s chest rose steadily, color returning to her face. She clung to your hand, her fingers trembling as she murmured a tear-soaked, broken “thank you.”

You smiled faintly.

And then you staggered, vision tilting slightly. Your knees threatened to buckle, the weight of exhaustion making your limbs heavy and sluggish.

A faint warmth trickled down from your nose.

Blood.

You stared at the crimson droplets falling onto your trembling hands. It took you a moment to register what was happening.

“Hey—hey!”

Ochako was by your side in an instant, her hands gripping your arms tightly, steadying you. Her brown eyes were wide, round with worry as she stared at the blood smeared across your upper lip.

“(N/N), you’re bleeding!” Her voice was tight, barely above a whisper. “You need to stop—”

But you shook your head, a weak, lopsided smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m okay,” you rasped softly, forcing a breathless laugh. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you still smiled. You lied.

Ochako’s brows furrowed deeply. You could see the tremor in her hands as she cupped your face, wiping the blood from your lip with the edge of her glove. Her hands were shaking.

“Please, just rest,” she begged softly, her voice breaking slightly.

But you didn’t.

You carried on with the mission.

Despite the dizziness threatening to pull you under, despite the way your hands trembled faintly, you didn’t stop.

You pressed your bloodied hands against another fallen civilian’s chest, reviving them for five fleeting minutes.

Enough time to let their loved ones say goodbye.

You moved onto the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Because they deserved their goodbyes.

And if it meant sacrificing another sliver of yourself, you would do it without hesitation.

The man’s sobs echoed through the broken city street, his knees hitting the cracked asphalt with a hollow thud. His arms trembled as they clung to the small, lifeless body in his lap, the delicate frame of his child. Her limbs hung limp, eyes half-lidded, robbed of their light far too soon.

You had brought the child back with your quirk, just for five minutes. Enough time for the father to say goodbye.

But when she awoke, she screamed.

And the father, through tears, held her anyway.

“It’s okay… I’ve got you,” he whispered, rocking her as if he could shield her from the agony she was reliving. “Daddy’s here. I’ve got you, baby.”

The girl’s cries faded into broken gasps. She stilled in his arms before slipping away once more. Cold and lifeless.

You staggered backward, legs trembling beneath you. Something sharp cracked behind your eyes, a splintering sensation as if a fault line had split in your skull.

The world turned blurry.

When you blinked again, the sobbing man was a stranger. The charred street, unfamiliar. You stood there, lost in the very place you were supposed to save.

Katsuki’s voice cut through the fog.

“Hey! Hey, look at me!”

His voice was rough, sharp with urgency, but his hands were steady as he grabbed your face, thumbs pressed to your cheeks, grounding you.

Your eyes were unfocused, glassy with confusion. You didn’t know where you were. Who you were. But his voice was loud. Familiar. Real.

“Focus, dammit.” His forehead pressed against yours, sweat-damp hair clinging to his skin. His breath was uneven, but his voice was steady. Low. Rough. “It’s me. Come on, (N/N). Stay with me.”

And just like that, you were back.

Your chest heaved sharply, a gasp catching in your throat as your mind slowly pieced itself together. Your name. Your quirk. Your mission. His voice.

Bakugo held you in place for a moment longer, his grip firm but careful. His breathing was shaky against your temple. And when you looked into his eyes, wide with something raw and fragile— he was scared.

He almost lost you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Then it started becoming more evident as you became the intern of a hero that owned a hospital. As her intern, you were tasked to heal patients, and if you were given the permission to, revive a patient for five minutes so their loved ones could say farewell. The heroine you were interning for, Lady Sakuko, knew the limitations and didn’t want to risk you and so you stuck with healing.

But some families begged you.. And you couldn’t say no.. It was cruel to do so.

And so you paid the price.

It started with training exercises. Lost memories slipping through your fingers. Sometimes it was minor, a name you couldn’t place, a route you couldn’t recall. Sometimes it was bigger.. Fading details of your past, faces you swore you knew but couldn’t recognize.

Your childhood best friend, Izuku, noticed first.

You were in the common room when he passed you a glass of water, his green eyes soft with concern.

“Hey, you okay? You kinda zoned out earlier.”

You stared at him blankly. “Huh? When?”

He hesitated.

“During training,” he murmured gently. “You didn’t dodge when I called your name.”

You blinked slowly at him, confused.

You didn’t remember.

His eyes softened with worry, but he forced a bright smile, brushing it off with a chuckle.

“Maybe you were just tired,” he said lightly. But the concern in his eyes lingered, even when he turned away.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You didn’t remember your favorite cafe

Ochako suggested stopping by after classl. Her voice was bright, casual, trying not to sound worried.

“Hey, wanna grab those cream puffs you like? You always get that matcha latte too.”

You blinked at her, confused.

“What café?”

Her smile faltered slightly.

“You know… the one by the park? You love that place.”

But you didn’t remember.

You stared at the tiny shop across the street, its warm glow spilling out onto the pavement, but it meant nothing to you. No familiar scent. No sense of nostalgia.

Ochako covered it quickly, her voice bright and casual.

“Oh! Maybe I’m mixing it up with someone else’s fave,” she laughed lightly. “Wanna check it out, though?”

You nodded absently, but you could feel her gaze lingering on you the entire time.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You can’t sleep.

The rooftop is cold, the wind nipping at your skin, but you don’t move. You stare out at the city, its flickering lights blurring faintly at the edges of your vision.

You hear footsteps behind you, heavy and familiar. When you glance over your shoulder, you expect to feel a flash of recognition.

But you don’t.

The blond boy strides over with his hands in his pockets, his eyes sharp beneath furrowed brows. His presence is strong—almost too much. He carries himself like he owns the entire sky.

He stops beside you, eyes narrowing slightly. “You didn’t go to your café today.”

You stare at him blankly. You don’t answer.

He turns toward you fully. His voice lowers. “What café?”

His crimson eyes falter ever so slightly. His knuckles go white in his pockets.

For a moment, neither of you speak. Then, he scoffs faintly.

“Tch. It’s a shitty place anyway,” he mutters. “Too sweet.”

You don’t know why, but your chest aches.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The hospital wing is too small.

Cots are pressed against every wall, medical supplies scattered haphazardly across tables. Blood stains the once-white sheets. The air reeks of antiseptic and scorched flesh.

You sit by the cot of a fallen soldier, his blood pooling onto the sheets, soaking through the thin fabric. His eyes are glassy—vacant. His fingers twitch once, and then still.

“Please…” his wife whispers from the other side of the cot. Her voice is thin, trembling. “Please, save him…”

You don’t hesitate.

Your hands, slick with blood, press down on his chest, trembling as the familiar warmth of your quirk pulses through your fingertips. Light spills from your hands, golden and dim, sinking into his ruined flesh.

He gasps sharply. His eyes snap open, and he screams.

You don’t flinch.

You hold his hand as he thrashes violently, as his body relives every wound he has ever suffered. As he sobs and clings to his wife’s trembling arms. As she cries and holds him, even as he begs for it to stop.

Five minutes.

You stay with him until he goes still again. His wife kisses his cooling lips, her sobs raw and broken. She holds him close, even though he is cold.

You slowly stand, legs trembling. Your head throbs violently, and your vision briefly tilts sideways. Your hands shake so violently you barely manage to wipe the blood from your cheek.

“(N/N)!”

You don’t register the voice at first. The words are muffled, distant, until a pair of arms suddenly wrap around you.

Ochako.

You blink slowly, trying to focus on her face, but her features swim and blur. For a brief, disorienting moment, she is a stranger.

Her hands grip your arms tightly, her voice trembling. “You’ve been overworking yourself at the hospital… (N/N), you should remember to pick who you revive. You can’t save all of them.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “But I can.”

Her eyes burn with tears. She shakes her head weakly. “And it’s taking a toll on you!” Her voice cracks as she tightens her grip. “You’re my best friend, (N/N)… I know that it’s selfish… but sometimes… people go.”

Her voice breaks on the last word.

You just stare at her, your breath shallow. You want to hold her. To promise her you’re fine.

But you don’t.

Because you can’t remember if you are.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You’re slipping.

You can’t remember your name. You can’t remember the mission. You can’t remember why you’re here.

But you know you need to keep moving.

Your legs shake as you stumble forward, your body screaming in protest. Each step feels heavier, each breath shallower, but you don’t stop.

You press your trembling hands to the bodies littered across the battlefield, summoning every ounce of power left in you.

You revive them.

Again. And again. And again.

You don’t think. You don’t breathe. You just do.

And then you find him.

His body is crumpled against the ground, blood pooling beneath him. His gauntlet is cracked, sparking faintly with remnants of his quirk. His hand lies slack around the grip. His eyes are closed.

You don’t know who he is.

But your heart shatters.

You fall to your knees beside him. Your fingers tremble violently as you press them against his chest. His blood seeps into your skin, warm and sticky, but you don’t care.

You don’t understand why you’re crying. You don’t know why it hurts so much.

But it does.

Your hands shake so violently you can barely summon the light. It flickers faintly at your fingertips, sputtering weakly. You’re too far gone. You barely have anything left.

And still, you pour everything into him. Every drop of strength, every broken piece of yourself, every memory you don’t even have anymore.

“Please,” you choke softly, voice cracked and trembling. “Please, just… come back.”

You’re not sure if you’re speaking to him, or to yourself.

You press harder, ignoring the searing pain in your arms, the tremor in your shoulders. Your vision blurs with tears you don’t understand, spilling hot and fast down your cheeks.

And then he gasps sharply, his eyes flying open with a sudden, broken breath.

You let out a strangled sob.

His chest heaves with shallow, ragged breaths. His eyes—crimson and glassy—flicker hazily to you, unfocused and wide with confusion. Blood clings to his lips, his skin pale from blood loss.

But he is alive.

And then you smile.

Tears slip down your cheeks, your eyes blurry, but you smile anyway. You let out a shaky, broken laugh, soft and breathless—because he’s breathing.

Your trembling fingers brush over his blood-matted hair, pushing the damp strands from his face. Your hands linger, trembling faintly against his skin.

You stare at the face you don’t recognize.

But somehow, somehow, it still feels familiar.

Your voice is barely above a whisper, soft and fragile, breaking faintly over the words.

“I think I loved you before.”

Bakugo Katsuki allows himself to cry.

Because you still do.

Even if you don’t remember.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The war was over.

The scars it left behind were not.

U.A. slowly stitched itself back together. The halls were quieter now. The seats emptier. The classrooms once filled with voices and laughter now carried a somber stillness.

But you were alive.

And so were they.

You sat by the window in the classroom, the sunlight spilling weakly across your desk, warming your hands. The soft murmur of your classmates lingered faintly around you, their voices dull and distant. You watched them quietly. The way they moved, the way they smiled, the way their hands trembled slightly when they thought no one was looking.

They were familiar strangers.

You knew their names because they told you. You knew their faces because they showed you old photos. You knew their stories because they sat beside you and spoke softly, laughing through their tears, hoping you would remember.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

No matter how hard you tried, it was all blank.

You stared down at your notebook, the lines empty. The words wouldn’t come. Your fingers trembled slightly against the pen, your chest tightening with something sharp and suffocating.

You clutched the pen harder.

And then you heard someone sniffle.

You glanced up, eyes widening slightly.

Ochako sat beside you, her hand pressed to her mouth, trying to stifle the small, broken sound. Her eyes were red, tears clinging to her lashes, falling despite her best efforts to hold them back.

You blinked slowly, confused.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly, your voice cracking faintly. Your eyes flickered around the room. Izuku, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, trying to smile for you. Kirishima, clenching his jaw as his hands fisted faintly on his desk, his knuckles white. Mina, her face buried in her arms, shoulders trembling softly.

And then you looked at Katsuki.

You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t look away.

There was no pain on his face. No tears. No trace of sadness.

Just tenderness. Raw and steady.

You stared at him with so much love, like your heart remembered what your mind had forgotten. Like somewhere, in the hollow of your chest, you still knew him.

And you tried so hard.

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to remember—to claw through the blank spaces, to tear through the fog—desperate to find even the smallest flicker of a memory.

But nothing came.

Just empty, aching silence.

You pressed your palms against your eyes, your shoulders trembling slightly. A broken sob caught in your throat, and you shook your head sharply, voice small and broken.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out softly. “I’m so sorry. I—I can’t remember. I—”

You covered your face with your hands, hot tears slipping between your trembling fingers. You tried to stop them, tried to breathe through the suffocating weight in your chest.

“I’m trying so hard,” you whispered shakily. “I want to remember, I do. But I—I can’t. I can’t remember any of you.”

Your voice cracked painfully as you lowered your hands, your eyes desperate and glassy. You clutched the fabric of your shirt over your chest, knuckles pale from how hard you squeezed.

“And I’m so sorry…” your voice broke completely, trembling and raw, “for forgetting you.”

And then you felt warmth.

Arms wrapping around you.

Steady. Strong. Familiar.

You felt Katsuki’s hands cradle the back of your head, his fingers slipping into your hair, holding you gently against his chest.

Your trembling hands fisted weakly into his shirt, clinging to him, your tears soaking into the fabric. You shook faintly in his arms, and he just held you tighter.

He pressed his lips softly against the crown of your head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice rough and low, but gentle. “You don’t have to remember.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face deeper into his chest, tears falling freely.

He stroked your hair softly, his voice breaking faintly as he held you closer.

“We’ll just make new memories together.”

You hiccupped softly against him, and his arms tightened faintly around you.

“We have time,” he murmured against your temple. “We have forever.”

And so you broke completely in his arms.

Because even if you didn’t remember who he was, you still knew him.

THE END.

Lovesick husband! Dazai who's obviously whipped for his spouse and ain't even trying to hide it at all

ANNE DONT MIND ME PLS you write so good and reading these drabbles made me want to request one of my own !!

imagine professor!dazai giving u an extra lesson after class 🤭 it's 12 from the list btw <3

CHIYO MY DEAR♡ i'm so happy you requested this one. hope you like it. I made Dazai a literature professor👀♡

12 — Professor!char giving you an extra lesson after class

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: lowkey unethical, sex toys, semi-public space, creampie

"Keep reading, bella, you're halfway there."

Your professor's voice carried a hint of mockery as he soothed your thigh with a hand, pushing the silicone toy deeper inside you. You winced at the sensation, shooting Dazai a desperate glance over your shoulder.

Osamu Dazai was the new literature professor at your college– some prodigy kid who finished his PHD by the age of 25 and whose novels sold like hot cakes and now everyone was singing him praise. Frankly, you weren't too impressed by his accomplishments, but he was the only professor in the whole faculty who actually encouraged you to write something different, out of the norm; so you did anything to stay on his good side.

Even if it meant helping him around the office and fucking him from time to time. Not that you'd complain, Dazai was incredibly good looking and knew how to please a woman.

So naturally, when your professor asked you to come to his office after class you expected a quick fuck, as usual.

But the smug bastard had you bent over his desk with your panties lowered mid-thigh and a vibrator shoved up your pussy, making you read the assignments your colleagues turned in while he made snide comments on the side.

"Was that supposed to be a metaphor? 'The mist of the summer evening' what's that supposed to mean? God, I swear these texts are getting worse and worse..."

"Ngh– 'samu please" you whined, shifting your hips "Can't we just do this later?" The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, you needed him inside you, not that stupid toy.

"Sorry, bella, I have to grade this paper by 6. The kid's coming to discuss it" he mused, watching your walls clench around the toy with keen eyes. God, your pussy was divine– his pants were tightening just by looking at you.

Reaching a hand towards you, Dazai touched your folds, gathering your slick and smearing it all over the inner part of your thighs. "My, my, you're dripping, dear. Better hurry up and finish reading if you want me to fuck you properly" His deft digits found your bundle of nerves and gave it teasing flicks.

Your mind was starting to get foggy, the sentences melting into a jumble of letters as you struggled to read the last paragraph out loud. It was painfully embarrassing, the way your body jolted up as he drew slow circles on your clit with his thumb, how desperate you were to have him inside you. All the while, Dazai was toying with you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite toy.

The second you were done with your paper you let it fall on the desk next to you. "Done, I'm done." you huffed out, looking over your shoulder to see Dazai's teasing smile.

"Good job, bella. I think it's worth at least 60 points. I mean, it's a progress from the last assignment he turned in. What do you think?"

I think you should stop messing around and fuck me already– you wanted to say back but all that came out of your mouth was a breathy yes, sir. i'd say so too.

The man got up from his chair and slowly ran a hand through your hair. You could hear him unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his suit pants, your hips swaying in anticipation. "You're such a pretty girl" he hummed, removing the toy from your pussy with a wet pop and alligning himself at your entrance "And obedient too. I think you deserve a reward ah shiit—"

A broken whine slipped from his lips as he slammed himself inside you, the grip he had on your hips growing fiercer. Fuck, your cunt was basically sucking him in. You were so damn perfect he swore he could spend all day fucking you and it wouldn't be enough.

Your moans filled the tiny office, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air, fueling the man's need. His hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "Y-you're so tight bella think 'm gonna– fuck i'm gonna cum soon"

"Me too me too 'samu" you mewled as the tight knot in the pit of your stomach snapped and you came around his cock, soaking it in your juices.

It wasn't a surprise you came so fast, he'd been edging you for hours and you were so sensitive. Even now as your walls pulsed around him, Dazai's fingers found your puffy clit and your body jolted up. "W-wait 'samu you can't I just–"

"Want you to cum again with me, donna. Can you do that for me?" he huffed out and your pussy fluttered at the sound of his breathy, whiny moans, pressure building up in your core again.

When the two of you reached your high again, his hips halted flush against yours, his milky cum shooting deep inside you. The man's breath was ragged and he hissed when he slightly pulled out, watching the sticky substance form a ring at the base of his cock as it dribbled out of your hole.

Something sparked inside him at that moment and he quickly flipped you over, caging you between his arms as he leaned over your frame. Droplets of sweat clung to the tips of his hair as he pressed his forehead against yours "Can we do it again?"

"But Dazai we just–" you wanted to protest but he cut you off with a deep thrust, making you choke out a moan.

"Don't care bella you don't understand what you do to me I can't get enough of you" he sighed, slowly, almost lovingly, rocking his hips against yours, his lips ghosting over your cheeks, jaw and down the expanse of your neck, making you shudder. You'd lie if you said that his confession didn't stir something inside you too.

Before you could answer, a knock on the door snapped both of you out of the intimate moment you were sharing. "Um... professor? You said I could come by at 6 so we can discuss my paper"

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘? 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐁 𝐀 𝐏𝐕𝐒𝐒𝐘.

— top jjk pussy starved men.

— cw: fem!reader, cunningulus, cowgirl, monsterfucking, squirting, overstimulation, edging, nicknames, pure filth.

— a/n: this is dj khaled's worst nightmare ifykyk, sukuna's is nastier than your room where you're lying in your bed reading this rather than cleaning it.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"atta girl. atta fucking girl!" satoru was so proud of you for riding his dick like it was your last. your body bounced on his, ass slapped so loud against his crotch that it was louder than the moans slipping from your lips.

gojo looked at you like a beast as he rested his shoulders and head on the bed frame, sitting up a little, making sure to get a good view. you made eye contact with him for a second and watched him stare at your pussy. he had heart eyes watching where you and him connected.

"getting tired, toru. nee—uh! need your help"

"aww princess. thought you'd never ask," his hands traveled your from your bent knees, to your thighs till they reached your ass and gave it a loud smack. you knew the consequences of asking him for help because this man won't stop until you've gone limp.

gojo grabbed a handful of your ass and used it to bounce you on his cock. his triceps flexed as bobbed you till your pussy stretched on his member. you watched as his tongue swiped against his lips and forged into a mischievous grin. his pace fastened and he hit your walls with so much force that it had your bed creaking and his ass levitate in the air for a millisecond.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck!! c'mon, baby. s—stretch it more. wanna cum in this—holy shit—cum in your pretty pussy."

"toruuuu," you cried as you rolled your head back in pleasure, barely keeping up with him.

"look—ahh how pretty she looks swallowing my cock in—goddamn! let's make her even prettier. let's paint her in my cum, y-yeah? fuckin—ahhhh! he moaned practically louder as he shot his load in you, his movements never stopping because he is a pussy starved whore. you could feel his trimmed white pubes stimulating your clit causing her to cum following his climax.

"fhuck princessh! huh! need m-more." you could barely comprehend his words because he was panting so much overstimulating himself. but he still craved for more, living up his pussy starved whore title.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

"don't fuckin' move," his hand snaked tighter around your thighs.

"'s too much," you cried, fingers seconds away from tearing the bedsheets. toji had been eating your pussy for almost an hour. but the worst part was he hadn't let you come even once. the first fifteen minutes were fun but now it was plain torture. your pussy was so sensitive at this point that either needed to orgasm, or get the fuck away from the animal's face in front of you. is his jaw not hurting? you thought.

"toji, pleaaasee. lemme cum," you pleaded. his lips grinned against your pussy.

"wanna cum, yeah? do it yourself." he pulled away to look at your confused face. "grind this sweet pussy on my face, doll." you were scared he was going to pull something mean again. yet, you did it anyway because your brain doesn't work much when your pussy is hungry.

you were still in the same position, hips starting to jerk against his face. toji stirred his tongue out flat rubbing against your clit. with each thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high. toji felt it coming before you and to make sure he'd get to drink all your juice, he latched his lips on your pussy as you shuddered when you came.

"anh! anh! toji—ffhuuck!!" his teeth caused you to overstimulate and whine. your body trembled post climax for atleast forty five more seconds before your torso finally laid flat on the body. toji climbed up and peppered you in his kisses, lips covered in your juices crashing against your skin.

"ready for round two?"

"fuck off."

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

"can't fucking run away tonight, can you?"

you never thought you'd ever feel so helpless. sukuna had your wrists pinned abover your head with his two hands, the other two held your thighs apart so he can savour all of that pretty pussy.

his one dick teased your hole and the other rubbed between your asscheeks. you watched in horror as well as excitement as a big mouth appeared on his stomach. you knew he was a monster that could do things like this, but this was your first time seeing it upclose. the mouth grinned before a big wide tongue rolled out it, licking a long stripe that started from your pussy and ended on your tits. you were curious if it could go farther. it did. it forced his way meeting your tongue. but yours was so tiny compared to his, almost invisible under it's presence.

"go ahead. give it a kiss." he ordered.

your jaw finally relaxed as the tongue pulled out, a hefty amouth of saliva drenched your tits, you lifted your head up and planted a kiss on the edge of it. the tongue retracted, and you thought it was over. but it was a mere distraction as when you looked down, both his cocks had filled your either holes, the tip barely in.

"shit. need you more wet." he said before the mouth on his stomach spat on your pussy, your labia soaked as much as the bedsheets under you. the tongue massaged your clit, making you stretch and giving the monster in front of you an opening to attack your hole. sukuna bottomed out and you gasped in pain.

"kunaaaa! ahh—meanie."

"I had to, woman."

sukuna made sure to start with slow thrusts but when he felt your pussy getting used to the size, he started going more intense. he felt you shaking under him so when he looked down you were already cumming. with no second thoughts, he pulled out his cock, and his stomach tongue filled your pussy till the tip could feel your velvety walls.

"he is hungry. let him, sweetheart."

you came so hard that you vibrated against his big body. he felt it. you were about to squirt. sukuna lifted you up in the air so easily on his bigger tongue so that all your juices flowed directly on it and you watched. you felt so filthy but when you looked at him, he couldn't take his eyes off how your pussy juice created a small stream on the surface of the wide stomach tongue. you saw his neck bob as he was savouring the taste of you even though he never took you in his real mouth.

"mmhm. you're sweeter than i imagined." a new mouth appeared on his hand and licked away your tears. slowly, a few more manifested on his body.

"how about you let all my boys taste you?"

@osachiyo @hellkaiserinphoenix @audrinui @ilhvm @wifeyana @rizzmin @venusiansilk @suchawasteofagirl @blondieeu @lavalampfullofsoup @getoloverr @tojilvrs

Bakugou Katsuki could be insufferable when it came to going out.

"Kats."

He hums in reply, his eyes slowly drifting from his phone toward you. A small grin spreads across his lips as he notices your annoyed stance.

"Where are my heels?" You plant your hands firmly on your hips, staring him down. "Where did you put them, Kats?"

Bakugou Katsuki eyes trail slowly down your body, the question clearly slipping past his mind. His grin widens, and his eyes lift back up to your chest shirt.

Bakugou Katsuki, with a feigned look of innocence, finally meets your gaze.

"Sorry, what was that, ma?"

You roll your eyes, growing more irritated. To his disappointment, you cross your arms over your chest.

"Where are my heels, Kats?"

Bakugou Katsuki stands up from the couch and walks over to you, pretending to think deeply about whether or not he’s seen your heels today. He hid them.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you toward him effortlessly. You reluctantly let yourself fall into his embrace, still holding a frown as you look up at him.

Bakugou Katsuki begins fiddling with the hem of your top, his grin never fading.

"I don’t know, mama. Why do you need them anyway?"

You sigh, already realizing where this conversation is headed.

"I’m going out, Kats. It’s girls’ night, remember?"

He raises his eyebrows as if he’s forgotten your plans, but you know better. He hasn’t.

"Where’d you get your top from?" he asks, dodging the topic entirely.

Your eyes narrow, catching onto his game.

"You bought it for me."

Bakugou Katsuki smirks, his hands sliding up your back to gently cradle the back of your neck.

"Oh, yeah. It looks real good on you, baby. Wanna stay home with me and show me all your other tops?"

You sigh, glancing at your watch and realizing you're already an hour late to the get-together.

Bakugou Katsuki chuckles as you take his hand and lead the way to the bedroom. His hands start to unfasten your skirt, and he silently congratulates himself for getting you to stay home.

Bakugou Katsuki was insufferable when it came to being clueless. You were insufferable for letting him convince you every single time.

in which pro hero reader puts an interviewer in their place after asking a disrespectful question about her boyfriend, pro hero dynamight.

you hated interviews.

the blinding lights, the stiff chairs, the overwhelming stench of hairspray clinging to the air- every second under the cameras made your skin itch. the suffocating outfit you were sitting in wasn’t helping either, digging into your ribs with every breath.

you weren’t even halfway through the interview yet, but the migraine pressing behind your temples told you you’d had enough.

technically, this was supposed to be a lighthearted talk show. what a joke. you knew better- just an interview wrapped in a prettier bow. the host sitting across from you in her pristine blue chair hadn’t shut up in over an hour, bouncing between surface-level questions about your daily routine and your hero work.

you’d been playing along, forcing that polite little smile on your face. but this second his name left her mouth, your stomach twisted.

“pro hero galaxia, we all know as his girlfriend, you’re the closest person to the one and only explosion hero, dynamight. i’d like to ask some questions about that.”

her voice was sugary sweet- too sweet. the kind of tone that made your teeth grind.

you returned her plastic smile, masking the irritation crawling up your spine. they always did this. always trying to pry into things that weren’t their business. heroes had a right to privacy too, didn’t they?

but for the sake of appearances, you nodded.

“alright.”

her eyes glinted like a shark sensing blood. “it’s no secret that dynamight is a… harsh person.” she paused, letting the word hang in the air. “many young children and even adults could be frightened by this nature, and i wonder-” she tilted her head, fake curiosity dripping from every syllable- “how do you think this affects him as a hero? could it be that he’s not cut out to be one?”

…what?

at first, you didn’t even register the question.

the air seemed to still, the bright studio lights dimming into a blurry haze around you. the murmuring crowd, the cameras clicking- everything faded into static. all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears.

she did not just say that.

“excuse me?” your voice came out low, sharper than you’d intended. maybe you’d heard her wrong.

but the smug little tilt of her smile told you you hadn’t.

“yes,” she repeated, slow and deliberate. “what are your thoughts?”

you leaned forward, locking eyes with her. the smile fell from your face like a guillotine blade.

“let me tell you something.”

the words came out steady, and there was no mistaking the edge behind them.

“dynamight wakes up every single day, straps on his gear, and walks out that door with no guarantee of returning home.” your voice rose slightly, echoing through the silent studio. “he risks his life- his entire goddamn life- to protect people who wouldn’t think twice about spitting on his name.”

you wouldn’t use dynamight’s real name now. you weren’t answering this question as his girlfriend, you were answering it as a fellow pro hero who knew the constant battles of every day hero life. and for him to be disrespected like this was beyond sickening to you.

“he worked his ass of to get to where he is today- harder than anyone i’ve ever seen. and you’re sitting here questioning if he’s cut out to be a hero? what the hell are you doing every day? sitting on your ass in front of a camera, profiting off other people’s lives?”

the host’s eyes widened, her sickly sweet smile finally cracking.

good.

you stood abruptly, the legs of your chair scraping against the floor. the woman flinched back, the entire room holding its breath.

“i better not ever see you in front of my face again.”

the moment you stormed off the set, the tension in your muscles refused to ease. your hands were still curled into fists at your sides, nails pressing half-moons into your palms. the air backstage was cooler, quieter, but the frustration still burned beneath your skin.

that woman had no idea what the hell she was talking about. no clue what it meant to be a hero.

you made your way to the dressing room, barely acknowledging the wide-eyed crew members who scurried out of your way. you didn’t care. let them whisper about the way you stood up for dynamight on live television.

you swung open the door to your dressing room, already reaching for the zipper of your suffocating outfit-

and then you froze.

because sitting on the couch in the corner, arms crossed and one leg kicked over the other, was a very familiar blonde.

katsuki.

his crimson eyes locked onto you the second you stepped in, sharp and unreadable.

for a second, neither of you spoke. the adrenaline from the interview was still thrumming in your veins, but under his gaze, something in you settled. he was here. he had seen everything.

you swallowed, shifting your weight slightly. “katsuki-”

before you could finish, he was already pushing himself off the couch, walking toward you with slow and deliberate steps. his hands, rough from years of battle, came up to your shoulders, thumbs brushing against your collarbones.

“turn around,” he murmured, voice softer than you’d expected.

you blinked at him, and his gaze flickered to the zipper at the back of your outfit. “i know this shit’s been botherin’ you all night.”

there was no teasing in his voice, no smirk. just quiet understanding.

your chest tightened, warmth flooding beneath your ribs. without a word, you turned, letting out a breath as his fingers gently tugged at the zipper.

the fabric loosened around you, and you hadn’t realized how tense you were until the cool air kissed your skin.

“you didn’t have to do that,” katsuki muttered as he worked the zipper down, his knuckles grazing your spine. “didn’t need to lose your shit on live tv for me.”

you scoffed lightly, but there was no real bite to it. “of course i did.”

the zipper reached the small of your back, and his hands smoothed over your shoulders, pushing the fabric down with a tenderness that sent shivers through you.

“you’re a hero, katsuki,” you continued, voice quieter now. “you save lives every single day. no one gets to question that.”

his hands stilled. you felt his breath against the nape of your neck, warm and steady.

then, he pressed a soft kiss to your bare shoulder.

“you’re too good to me, y’know that?” he muttered against your skin.

you turned to face him, arms slipping around his waist as he finished peeling the tight fabric from your arms. his hands didn’t leave you, tracing slow, comforting circles against your back.

“i just love you,” you admitted, his forehead resting against yours.

he huffed, but the way his arms tightened around you betrayed him.

“yeah, yeah. love you too, dumbass.”

and as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss far gentler than anyone would expect from dynamight, you let yourself melt into him- into his safety and love reserved just for you.

the fire from the interview still burned in your veins, but now, it was for an entirely different reason.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Holding hands .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

⤿ yn has a habit of holding her friends hands except for bakugou.

⋆˚✿˖° j speaking . . .

- this has been in my drafts since November and I’m only posting it now🥲

-this is inspired by a wonwoo oneshot it’s from tiktok and the author’s name is serenedust_ you can check it out in tiktok, happy reading, my loves! <3

YN had this little habit—one her friends were well aware of. Crowds made her uneasy, and whenever she found herself surrounded by too many people, she’d instinctively reach out, intertwining her fingers with whoever was closest. It was a small, grounding gesture that helped her keep calm.

Her friends had grown used to it over time.

“Ah, the famous YN hand-holding ritual,” Mina teased one day, giving YN’s hand a squeeze. “It’s cute, you know. Like you’re our little comfort buddy.”

YN laughed, a little embarrassed. “I just… feel calmer when I’m holding someone’s hand. I’m weird, huh?”

“Nah, we love it,” Kirishima reassured her with his usual bright grin. “In fact, you’re welcome to cling to me any time, YN. A pro hero should be able to help out with stuff like that, right?”

Mina nodded enthusiastically. “Totally! Besides, it’s not weird if it’s helping you feel better.”

YN was grateful for their support. She knew they didn’t mind her habit, and that only made her more comfortable reaching for their hands whenever she needed it. But there was one person she’d never tried holding hands with—Bakugou.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. If she was honest with herself, she sometimes thought about it, imagining how it might feel to intertwine her fingers with his. But Bakugou was… well, Bakugou. He wasn’t exactly the “gentle touch” type, and she figured he’d probably find it annoying or weird if she reached for him in that way. So she always avoided touching him, keeping her hands to herself when he was around.

One day, as they sat together for lunch, Mina brought it up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, YN, have you noticed that you never reach for Bakugou’s hand?”

YN nearly choked on her drink. “W-What? I—uh…”

Kirishima chuckled, leaning in. “She’s got a point, you know. You hold our hands all the time, but not Bakugou’s. Are you scared of him?”

“Scared?!” YN stammered, her cheeks heating up. “I’m not scared of him! I just… I don’t think he’d like it, that’s all.”

Mina gave her a knowing look. “Oh, really? Because Bakugou here doesn’t seem like the type to get flustered over something as small as holding hands.”

“Shut up, Pinky,” Bakugou growled, though he didn’t deny it. His gaze shifted, and he avoided looking directly at YN.

YN could feel her face burning, but she quickly changed the subject, laughing it off. “Anyway! It’s not a big deal. I’m fine with holding your hands. It’s just… different.”

But her friends’ teasing lingered in her mind, making her hyper-aware of Bakugou’s presence. She had no idea that Bakugou, on the other hand, had been noticing her habit all along. He’d seen her reach for Mina’s hand, loop her arm with Kirishima’s, and each time, he felt an uncomfortable pang of jealousy. Why wouldn’t she reach out to him? Did she think he wasn’t as dependable as the others?

As much as he tried to brush it off, it bothered him more than he’d admit.

During UA’s annual festival, the crowded grounds buzzed with excitement. Class 1-A had been helping with setting up booths, and the noise and energy around them were overwhelming. YN could feel her nerves kicking in as they made their way through the busy festival.

“Whoa, it’s packed,” Kirishima said, glancing around.

“Tell me about it,” YN mumbled, trying to keep her breathing steady.

Sensing her discomfort, Mina grabbed YN’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Hey, remember we’re all here if you need us.”

YN nodded, grateful. They continued walking, and as the crowd around them grew denser, she instinctively reached out to grab another hand. Her fingers slipped through someone else’s, feeling warm and steady—until she looked up and realized whose hand she was holding.

Bakugou.

Her heart jumped, and she immediately tried to pull her hand back, stammering, “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

But Bakugou’s grip tightened, refusing to let go. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, but his gaze was intense as he looked down at her.

“Quit squirming,” he muttered. “If it helps you feel safe, just… keep holding it.”

YN stared up at him, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “B-But I didn’t think you’d want to…”

“What, you think I didn’t notice?” he interrupted, voice a little rougher, though he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You’re always holding their hands, but never mine. You think I’d mind?”

Behind them, Mina and Kirishima exchanged wide-eyed glances, grinning like they’d just witnessed the world’s biggest revelation. Mina’s voice echoed in a teasing whisper, “Ohhh, looks like someone’s finally holding Bakugou’s hand…”

YN was mortified, but Bakugou simply glared at their friends. “Mind your own business.”

They continued through the festival, YN’s hand still tightly wrapped in Bakugou’s. The warmth of his grip was both unfamiliar and comforting, and she could feel her anxiety melting away. For once, the noise of the crowd didn’t seem so overwhelming.

She glanced up at him, offering a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Bakugou.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, though his cheeks had the faintest hint of a blush. “Just don’t let go all of a sudden.”

Mina nudged Kirishima and whispered, “Think they’ll let go after this?”

Kirishima laughed quietly, giving her a playful nudge back. “Not a chance. I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of this.”

As YN walked with Bakugou, hand in hand, she realized she didn’t mind the teasing. In fact, she didn’t want to let go at all. And judging by the way Bakugou’s grip stayed firm and steady, he felt the same way.

Years into their careers as pro heroes, YN and Bakugou had seen more than their fair share of action and chaos. Tonight, however, was one of those rare, peaceful evenings, where the two of them could finally unwind together. They’d just finished a mission, and now they sat sprawled on Bakugou’s couch, swapping war stories over takeout.

As they relaxed, a comfortable silence settled between them until YN, lost in thought, let out a small laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Bakugou grumbled, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” YN said, shaking her head with a smirk. “Just… I was thinking about that festival back at UA.”

Bakugou squinted suspiciously. “Which one?”

“The one where I, uh… accidentally grabbed your hand.”

Bakugou’s face turned pink, but he quickly masked it with an annoyed scowl. “Accidentally, huh? Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

“Oh, come on, it was!” YN protested, laughing as she nudged his shoulder. “I thought you were Kirishima! But then I looked up and realized it was you, and I was mortified. I was ready to disappear right there.”

Bakugou snorted. “Yeah, I noticed. Thought you’d drop dead from embarrassment.”

“Hey! You didn’t help by tightening your grip, you know!” YN shot back, giving him a playful glare. “You practically crushed my hand! What was that about?”

Bakugou shrugged, feigning indifference. “Thought you needed the support, or whatever. You looked like you were about to pass out.”

YN giggled, shaking her head. “Sure, sure, big tough hero just wanted to help.”

Bakugou cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… I was waitin’ for you to do it all damn year, you know. You’d grab everyone else’s hand like it was nothing, and when it was me, suddenly you couldn’t even look at me.”

YN blinked, surprised. “Wait, you… actually wanted me to hold your hand?”

“Tch,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Why do you think I always stood next to you in crowded places? Wasn’t a coincidence, idiot.”

Her laughter softened into a warm smile. “So all this time… you were jealous?”

Bakugou shot her a glare, cheeks bright red. “I wouldn’t call it jealousy.”

“What would you call it, then?” YN asked, smirking mischievously.

“A strategic maneuver,” he said, nose in the air. “If you got anxious, it was only logical that I’d be the one to handle it.”

YN snickered. “Right, because nothing says ‘tough guy’ like hoping someone will hold your hand.”

“Oi!” Bakugou growled, though his expression softened into an uncharacteristic smile. “You’re lucky I let you grab it at all.”

“Lucky, huh?” YN teased, leaning into his shoulder. “Well, in that case, I guess I’m lucky you’re still holding it.”

Bakugou’s fingers intertwined with hers, his grip firm but gentle. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t go getting sappy on me now.”

YN rolled her eyes but didn’t let go, letting the warmth of his hand remind her of that day at the festival—the beginning of something she hadn’t realized they both wanted.

And for the rest of the evening, every time she tried to pull her hand away, Bakugou would grumble, tightening his grip and muttering, “Strategic maneuver, remember?”

YN only laughed, realizing that some things really never change.

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