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Uncasual

Summary:

There's nothing casual about Katsuki Bakugou, despite what he likes to believe.

Notes:

Just a smutty oneshot of their dysfunctional not-relationship to give myself a breather from work, and because I like writing banter. MIND THE TAGS - Katsuki is relatively problematic and not very nice in this one. Enjoy!

Work Text:

Katsuki has one booted foot on the back of a mugger's head when his phone buzzes for the sixtieth time. He's been ignoring it for the last ten minutes - coincidently the time it's taken to chase this fucker down and send him sprawling face first into an alleyway tucked between a casino and a convenience store - but finally pulls out his phone to tell whoever's bothering him to go and fucking die. 

The mugger squirms under Katsuki’s boot and spits out half a tooth when he talks. “C’mon, man, I swear this was a one time thing! Lemme go, I swear I'll never do it again, I swear, please don't hurt me, I have kids and I lost my job and I just needed to get them some food. Aren’t you heroes meant to help people -"

" Shut the fuck up !" Katsuki roars as he swipes open his messages and reads the one sent forty-six seconds ago. 

'Wanna choke on ur cum

His rage immediately crumples into mild annoyance, which is as good as it gets for him as he taps out a response.

'I'm on duty.

They reply immediately.

 'Take a break'

Katsuki snaps a photo of the guy under his boot. The stolen purse’s contents are scattered around his face and there's blood pooling under his cheek. He sends the photo.

 'Busy.'

'Hand him to the cops and come over' 

'I want u'

'In my mouth'

'In my throat'

‘No.’

'C'mooon'

'Won't take longer than 5 minutes'

'Unless you wanna go for a record and try for 6'

'😘'

Katsuki nearly cracks his phone and the guy’s head against the concrete. Cheeky bitch. 

 'Where are you?'

'Office'

He tucks away his phone. If chasing down some nobody mugger is as interesting as his shift is gonna get today, he might as well get some head to break the monotony.

"Today’s your lucky day, asshole," Katsuki spits as he hauls the mugger to his feet. "I've got an engagement that's more important than curb stomping your face into the sidewalk."

The mugger stumbles when Katsuki shoves him forward. "Y...you're letting me go?"

"No, dumbass." He fires off a small explosion that knocks the guy unconscious. "You ain't worth my time."

He sends out an alert that informs the cops of the mugger’s location, then blasts off towards Shibuya and the skyscraper that marks Gunhead’s agency. He’ll probably get in trouble later for leaving the guy unsupervised, but whatever. Not like the cops do jack shit anyway, and his dick appointment can’t wait.

 


 

Uraraka doesn't look away from her terminal when he climbs through the open window. The blinds to her private office are closed and the door is locked. His gaze grazes the wall behind her desk where awards and newspaper articles celebrate her heroic achievements, before fixing on her curves that are poorly hidden beneath her baby pink two-piece suit. He tugs off his gloves and chucks them on her desk to draw her attention. 

"Juuuuust gimmie three secoooonds," she says while tapping on the keyboard.

"One," he says.

She carries on typing and frowns. 

"Two," he says.

"Katsuki."

" Three ."

"Katsuki!"

" Round Face ."

She huffs, but keeps on typing. "It's one email. You can wait."

" You called me !" he snarls. "Did I miss my fucking appointment slot? Or do you wanna reschedule?"

She keeps typing for a few seconds, then takes a breath and pushes away from her desk. She stretches, and his eyes glue to her button up blouse straining over her tits. 

"Done!" she announces.

"Better be," he says. "Get on your knees."

"Don't be bossy," she says, then stands up and slides her arms around his neck. Her body slots against his like she's a puzzle piece made to fit him, and she pushes his mask up his forehead before pecking the end of his nose. “Missed you.”

It’s been a few weeks, he supposes, but when she tries to kiss him he bites her face and she rolls her eyes.

"Fiiiiine." 

“Shirt off first.”

Usually he'd yank the buttons apart, but the last time he'd done that (despite multiple warnings) she'd refused to suck his dick for a month. And it’s not terrible watching her slowly unbutton her shirt, anyway.

Her bra is deep purple today and feels smooth and silky under his fingers. He wonders if she's wearing matching panties, but when he yanks up her skirt, she slaps away his hands and primly pulls it back down. 

He scowls. "Do you wanna fuck or not?"

"No," she hums. "I just wanna suck you off."

"Okay?" He glares at her, confused, while she drops to her knees and unbuckles his belt. 

"I'm on my period," she explains. 

" Again ?"

She cocks an eyebrow at him, quietly amused. "Yes, Katsuki. It tends to be a recurring thing."

"You just had it."

"I had it 24 days ago. The same as every month for the past eight years at approximately the same time -"

"I know that, asshole! Just don't remember when. Ain't on my list of priorities."

She grunts and pulls his hard dick out of his boxers, then licks her lips in a way that makes his stomach tighten. 

"Maybe it should be your priority," she says, then licks a stripe along his shaft. 

He puffs out a breath and leans back against the desk. "Why's that?"

She flicks her tongue over his slit and peers up at him through her lashes. Her breath rolls hotly down his length when she speaks and her fingerpads feel so fucking good around his base. "I'm attention starved and horny on my period. It's a weird combination."

"Oh yeah?"

"Set a reminder on your calendar so you remember."

"Remember your period?"

"Uh huh." She sucks his head into the side of her cheek then pulls it out with a wet pop. "So you know when to drop by."

His thoughts leech away for a second when she takes him further into her mouth, bobbing along his length while her cheeks hollow inwards. She's so unbelievably hot with his cock stuffed down her throat, it’s impossible to focus on anything else. But he swallows shakily, remembers her jab about timing, then says, "Wouldn't mind fucking you bloody."

She wrinkles her nose and peers at him with his cock halfway down her throat. 

"What?" he says, and tangles his fingers in her hair to feel her head bobbing. "Just stick a towel over the mattress or something, I don't give a fuck. It's not even like, real blood, right? Just womb tissue or something."

She pulls off him and he tracks the string of spit connecting her bottom lip to his leaking tip. It breaks when she talks. 

"That's even more gross!"

He shrugs and tries to push her back onto him, but she resists and presses his length against her cheek. It's almost as long as her head.

"Do you have a blood kink?" she asks teasingly.

"No! I just care more about fucking you than I care about getting blood on my dick. Ever heard of a fucking shower?"

She hums, then resumes sucking him more vigorously this time. One hand pumps his base in time with her sucking and he bucks into her mouth with a groan, toes curling in his boots. Has it been five minutes yet? 

"Could always fuck you in the ass instead," he huffs. Her hair is so soft between his fingers, it makes him wanna pull it harder. 

She makes a wet, strangled noise in response. He's not sure if it's an affirmative or not so pulls her off his cock, but instead of answering, she opens her mouth and lets her tongue hang out; a line of spit and precum drips off the tip and hits her tits, and the noise he makes is kind of embarrassing.

Restraint broken, he clamps both hands in her hair, pushes back into her mouth and fucks her throat until she's choking and tears stream down her cheeks. He's rough because she knows she likes it. Because she can handle it. Handle him. Dirty little slut.

His dirty little slut. 

One minute later, he pulls out and cums over her face. Most of it falls into her open mouth, while the rest arches over her pink cheeks and between her brow. His breath crackles in his chest and his body throbs in time with his release, and for a blissful moment, all his pent up anger and tension vanishes.

She closes her mouth, swallows, then scowls. "I'm at work."

He wipes the back of his mouth with his hand, still catching his breath. "So?"

"You just came on my face, Katsuki!"

"Midday facial."

"Not funny."

Smirking, he grabs his gloves and tries to wipe the cum off her cheeks but ends up smearing it around until she snatches it off him with a huff and gets the worst of it off herself. 

"You asked for this," he reminds her, entirely unbothered by her frustration.

"You could've cum in my mouth! Now I have to redo my makeup."

"Boo fucking hoo," Katsuki says. He tucks his dick away and sneers at her. The tension is already creeping back into his shoulders. "So are you gonna let me fuck your ass later or not?"

She stands up and rearranges her clothes and hair. "Mmmn, no. Busy."

He leans against her desk and crosses his arms. "Doin' what?"

"None of your business." She glances at the clock above her desk. "Oh look at that, you lasted five and half minutes. A new record!"

He pushes off the desk and stomps to the window. "Go fucking die! Piece of shit! And you better wash my gloves 'fore I see you again."

She roots through her handbag and pulls out a stick of lipstick. "Uh huh, will do."

"I mean it!"

"I hear you, geez! You don't need to shout."

"Asshole," he spits, then blasts out the window. 


 

She messages him around 8pm asking to see him, and he's got just enough energy to blast himself across half the city to catch her before he inevitably falls asleep at nine. He lets himself into her apartment using the spare key she keeps taped to the top of the door frame, then kicks off his boots in the genkan. The apartment is curiously quiet.

"Oi, Round Face! Your dick appointment is here."

He ignores giggling from the bathroom and heads to the tiny living space that rucks up against the kitchenette. He shrugs out of his jacket and throws it over the back of the couch. 

"I washed the cum off your gloves," she calls from the bathroom. "They're on the kitchen counter."

He spots them by the stove and picks them up to inspect her idea of 'clean'. They smell good. Like her. Or her detergent, at the very least.

A few minutes later, she emerges from the bathroom wearing a tiny red dress, lipstick and a lot of mascara. He leans against the counter, eyes roaming her curves above a wicked grin.

 "You made an effort."

"Not for you," she remarks while tugging out a pair of faux-diamond earrings from her lobes. 

His grin evaporates. "What?"

Suddenly she seems reluctant and her eyes flit sideways. "Forget it."

He straightens from the counter. "No. Spit it out."

She's silent. 

"You were goin' out," he says. "On a date?"

Her gaze pins to the floor. "I dunno. I guess."

"You guess ?"

She shrugs. 

"With who?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Yeah it fucking matters because I need to know whose teeth I’m gonna kick in tomorrow."

Her eyes narrow when she finally meets his look. "That's precisely why I'm not gonna tell you. You're the one that said we were casual , so I thought I could casually go on dates on the side."

He splutters furiously. Firstly, his ego is bruised. Who the fuck is better than him? What could they possibly have that he lacks? Secondly, he said they were casual years ago and presumed that things naturally become uncasual over time, and you don't need a fucking conversation to clarify that. Thirdly, the idea of someone else so much as looking at her for longer than three seconds makes him want to sink a continent, and he seriously isn’t joking about wanting to kick the guy’s teeth in; he's going to find that asshole and have a long, long conversation with him, the kind that involves breaking bones and no talking. 

She reads his brewing anger and at least has the decency to look repentant. Her earrings click when she sets them down on the dinner table. 

"I didn't go, though," she says. "Obviously. I blew him off to… well, blow you off instead."

"If you're trying to be funny, I'm not laughing."

Uraraka runs a hand through her hair, disheveling the carefully styled waves. "Look, you're just so… I don't know. Weird . What we have is weird. And I don't know if it's good. But I also know that I don't want anyone else. I thought maybe I did, just to know what normal feels like but… maybe normal is overrated. So… if you're done sulking, I'd really like to… y'know. Turn a crappy evening into a good one."

He briefly remembers how they first got together and admits it’s maybe a little weird. At their first post-graduation reunion, they’d ended up sitting side by side at the crowded, noisy restaurant table in Shinjuku. She’d worn a short skirt and he could see, when he leaned back in his chair, her thick, pale thighs sliding together under the table. For the first time in his life, his razor sharp focus turned to something besides personal progression and heroics, and without thinking, he slid his hand over her thigh and squeezed

He’d half expected her to slap him or scream, but she’d just gone very still and very pink, and over the course of fifteen minutes she let him slowly work his hand up her thigh and under her panties while their mutual tagalongs ate and joked and gossiped. 

Three months later, he’d told her implicitly that they were just casual because he didn’t do mushy shit or attachment or feelings and he didn’t want to be distracted from work. She’d blithely agreed, and they hadn’t talked about it since because he presumed it wasn’t a problem and that she understood him well enough to not go on fucking dates with soon-to-be-toothless extras.

Brought back to the present, he closes the gap between them and glares down at her. "Why should I keep fucking you?"

She pouts and feathers her fingers up his bicep. "'Cause no one else can do me like you can."

"Clearly you've forgotten that. In fact, leaving you with those extras is starting to sound appealing. You deserve each other."

She tugs his arms apart and presses herself against his chest. Her lashes are very long and dark when she blinks up at him. "Don't be like that. I'm here with you now, aren't I? Maybe I need a reminder of why I put up with you ."

He snorts, then wraps his hands under her thighs and lifts her up. She hooks her ankles around his waist and grins down at him, victorious. She always knows how to put a damper on his fuse.

He says, "You're annoying, do you know that?"

"Yeah, you tell me quite often."

"Not often enough, apparently." 

"Why are you being so mean to me when I bought lube and spent the last twenty minutes prepping my ass for you?"

Now that bleeds away the last of his anger, and he carries her into the bedroom while she sucks his top lip and his dick twitches in his pants. He throws her onto the bed, hastily yanks off his clothes, then pulls off her dress too. He would've enjoyed it more if it had been meant for him, but the cinnamon underwear underneath gives him pause.

She smiles knowingly as she feathers her fingers over the lace cupping her breasts, and her eyes smolder in the semidarkness. "Maybe I had you in mind after all."

"You better have," he growls, then rips off her panties and unhooks her bra. "You really don't want me to fuck your pussy?"

She toys with her nipples and hungrily eyes his dick. "Naw, give her a break. Just for a few more days."

Everything from his waist down is tingling with anticipation and his cock is already rock hard in his hand. "Bend over, then.”

She obediently gets on all fours in front of him, feet hanging off the edge of the bed, and lowers her torso until her tits are flat against the bedsheets and her ass is in the air. Standing behind her, he pulls one ample cheek to the side and hisses out a breath at the sight of her fluttering, shaven sex. He licks his thumb and circles it wetly over her hole, his blood singing in his ears.

"Gonna fuck your ass so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow," he growls. 

She twists at an unimaginable angle to peer at him through half-lidded eyes. "Are you sure you're not gay… Kacchan ?"

And just as quickly as she douses his fuse, she reignites it again, and Katsuki bristles all the way to his toes. 

"Liking anal doesn't make me gay, you dumb cunt!"

The grin drops off her face and she sits up with her arms crossed. He doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know he’s gone too far.

 "Really?" she snips. "The C word?"

He presses his palms into the hollows of his eyes and shoots air through his nose. "For fuck’s sake, of all the things to get pissed about -"

"I have every right to be pissed about that."

"Are you gonna sit on my dick or what? 'Cause I didn't fly all the way here just to be bitched at."

Uraraka stiffens. He knows if he keeps going her patience will snap and she'll make him leave; she gives him a lot of passes, but she also has enough self worth to call him out and stand her ground. Which he respects. And to be honest, she puts up with a hell of a lot from him.

"Finnnne," he relents. "What do you want me to call you, huh?"

He can feel her pouting even though her back is turned. "I dunno…"

"Baby?" he suggests. "Sweetheart? Honey?"

She giggles, which is a good sign, so he bends over and licks the back of her neck. 

"Sugar? Angel? Cheeks?"

"Mommy."

Disgust lances through him like an electric current. "Fuck no."

"Baaaw. Why not? I like it."

"No. No way. Not ever. Not on your fucking life. I'd rather die."

She turns around with a grin and pulls him on top of her. His dick twitches back to life as her slit presses against his balls. 

"Just Ochako, then," she says. "But you have to earn it."

He grins wolfishly, all glinting canines and savagery, then dips down for a rare kiss. She tastes too good to share, and he plants a nasty hickey on her neck to remind whoever the other asshole is that she’s fucking taken . And maybe to remind Uraraka, too.

After biting and sucking her anywhere she’ll let him reach, he rolls her onto her front again and hoists her hips up. His fingers dig deliciously into the folds of fat between her thighs and hips, and he slaps her ass once just to see it jiggle.

“Lube?” he prompts.

She gestures to the bedside table. “Top drawer.” 

He grabs it then squints at the label in the semidarkness. “Pina Colada flavor? Really?”

“Smells like pineapple,” she says a tad defensively, then wriggles. “Katsukiiii.”

"Alright, woman." 

He spends a minute stretching her with his lubed fingers - immediately the whole room stinks of chemicals and pineapple- but he doesn't have the patience for much longer. Not when her ass is so damn tight and his dick is so damn hard. Lining his tip with her entrance, he squirts more lube along his length and on her for good measure, then eases into her. 

They gasp simultaneously because fuck damn she's tight. There's resistance, her walls nowhere near as pliable as her pussy, and she sucks in a breath and grabs fistfuls of the bedsheets. 

"W-wait…!"

Katsuki runs a hand over the small of her back, sweating and gaze pinned to her stretching walls as he eases forward an inch at a time. "Take a breath, Cheeks."

She does, relaxes, and croons when he slides all the way in. 

"Good?" he asks.

"Yeah," she gasps. "God, yeah, real good, so good…"

He smirks, but his amusement is short-lived when he rocks into her because his nerve endings set on fire and his breath hitches in his chest and she clamps on him so hard it feels like she's gonna suck his dick off. 

"God damn, you feel so fucking good, fuck ."

He picks up his pace to see if she can handle it. Judging by her pitched wails and eager thrusting, he reckons she can, so he lets loose a little more and embeds himself deep inside her molten core. The lube makes the slapping of his balls against her ass extra loud, their coupling extra slick, and he can't complain about the stink of pineapple anymore.

Leaning forward, he plants one hand between her shoulder blades to keep her pinned to the bed while the other slaps her left ass cheek so hard a bright red plume erupts across her pale skin. She yelps but doesn't stop thrusting back onto him, so he smacks her again in time with a deep trust. 

"C’mon, Ochako, you can be louder than that."

She babbles incoherently while her hand creeps between her legs to touch her clit. He tsks, then snares both her arms and tugs them behind her back, planting her face into the mattress. She wants a reminder? He’ll damn well give her one.

"If I don't get to play with your pussy, then you don't either," he spits, then continues ramming her into the mattress until she's sobbing and the lube is an obscene mess over her ass and thighs. 

The pleasure is building in his gut, his muscles tightening, jaw locking in place with his teeth clenched together. Raspy breaths match her trilling until finally he lets go of her arms and grips her hips, then races to his end with a tempo so fierce he hears the breath rush out of her lungs. He props one foot on the bed for a few final deep thrusts, then cums so violently he feels like he's going to blow apart. 

Everything goes black and blurry for a split second, and when he blinks away the haze, he's leaning so low over her back that her hair tickles his nose. Sweat drips off his chin onto her neck, and he licks it off with a grunt. 

As he pulls out of her (taking about a liter of cum and lube with him) he notices she's snuck her hand between her legs and finished herself off. He tsks, but isn't that mad about it when he's still basking in his ungodly orgasm.

He collapses onto his back on the bed and she crawls stiffly next to him before wedging herself in the crook of his arm. They lay in silence; she traces little circles on his chest while he lightly tugs the ends of her hair until their heart rate and breathing return to normal. 

"That hurt?" he asks.

She hums. "Stung a bit at first. Felt weird. But good."

He grunts. "Should've let me fuck you bloody."

"Don't be gross."

"You just let me stick it in your ass. How's that any less gross than fucking you on your period?"

"Didn't hear you complain about it."

"I'm not. Just sayin' it doesn't make sense."

She yawns and wriggles against him to get comfortable. "Definitely gonna be walking funny tomorrow."

"And smelling like a fucking tiki bar." He scowls at the ceiling. "Beats whatever shitty date you were gonna go on."

"Drop it, will ya?"

"No. That guy is on my shit list."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I belong to you."

He snakes a hand around her shoulders and thinks her apartment is too small for the both of them. "You still gonna be on your period tomorrow?"