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KrBk switch cuz I said soHeavy NSFWfeat. oblivious!Kiri and socialdisaster!BakuLOTS of pining, lil bit of angst, some misunderstandingsthey're both idiots
CW: none I can think of atm, but will tag as I go
Please QRT! I live, eat, and breathe validationFirst mlm NSFW so be gentle am babyI have ZERO knowledge of the p/orn industry sooooWill update when I can so pls have patience!
“Bakugou! Are you even listening to me right now?”
He isn’t, but he’s not going to tell the director that. Instead, he pulls his attention away from the stain on the wall to finally look at the flat-faced lanky son of a bitch.
He isn’t, but he’s not going to tell the director that. Instead, he pulls his attention away from the stain on the wall to finally look at the flat-faced lanky son of a bitch.
Sero heaves a sigh. “Okay, look, I get that this isn’t your first gig, but can you at least show some enthusiasm? We’re kind of on a tight schedule here.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Who gives a shit what I do before the camera starts rolling?” he snarks, crossing his arms.
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Who gives a shit what I do before the camera starts rolling?” he snarks, crossing his arms.
“It’s not like it matters.”
Sero gives him an exasperated look. “But it does! You need to get into character, and the less I have to listen to the screenwriter bitching at me because you won’t cooperate, the better off I’ll be.”
Sero gives him an exasperated look. “But it does! You need to get into character, and the less I have to listen to the screenwriter bitching at me because you won’t cooperate, the better off I’ll be.”
Katsuki throws his hands up, just about done with Sero’s griping. They haven’t even started filming. “What /character/? This is a fuckin’ porno, for fuck’s sake! I’m not exactly winning an Oscar for this shit.”
At that moment, Jirou sidles up, shoving a rolled up stack of papers into Katsuki’s open hand. “Lucky for you, we need that asshole energy today. That’s your script. You’re ad-libbing for some of it, but there’s still cues you need to follow.”
She turns to Sero, her expression troubled. “Bad news. The actress called ahead to say she’ll be late.”
Sero gives a pained laugh and buries his face in his hands. “Can something go right today for once? Jesus Christ, that’s all I ask.”
Sero gives a pained laugh and buries his face in his hands. “Can something go right today for once? Jesus Christ, that’s all I ask.”
One of the sound technicians stifles a laugh behind his hand. “Dude, Jesus has NO business being on this set.” He flashes Katsuki a grin and gives him a thumbs up. “I’m Kaminari, by the way, but everyone just calls me Denki.”
“Don’t care,” Katsuki says dismissively, skimming the script. Huh. Looks like they’re going for a somewhat aggressive angle.
He’s supposed to be play some “aggressive alpha bad boy” (whatever the fuck THAT means) and rail some wide-eyed “virgin”, but other than that, there’s nothing too different aside from some dirty talk. In this industry, it’s pretty standard stuff.
Kind of disappointing, but Katsuki already agreed. Besides, there are worse roles to play.
There’s a commotion near the back entrance, but Katsuki doesn’t bother looking up and keeps reading.
There’s a commotion near the back entrance, but Katsuki doesn’t bother looking up and keeps reading.
“Kirishima!” screams Kaminari, jumping up and nearly knocking over one of the set pieces. “You’re late!”
There’s a voice just out of sight—deep, quiet, and baritone like smooth velvet that makes Katsuki’s ears perk up with interest. “Sorry, I was grabbing some lunch on the way here. Overslept.”
Katsuki feels his jaw drop as a six-foot-five /demigod/ walks into the room, bulging muscles poorly hidden behind a wrinkled t-shirt and those THIGHS, what the fuck, they have no business being that thick—
But his face is what draws him in. Long thick eyelashes, firetruck red hair hastily pulled up in a messy ponytail, loose strands framing a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and those LIPS.
Fuck, he wants to suck on them so bad…wonders how red they’ll get wrapped around his cock, shiny with spit and drooling.
‘FuckmefuckmeFUCKME—’
Kirishima’s eyes meet his, and it’s like being hit with a bolt of lightning. God, where has this man BEEN all his life?!
Kirishima’s eyes meet his, and it’s like being hit with a bolt of lightning. God, where has this man BEEN all his life?!
“Hey, bro. You good?” Katsuki sees a hint of sharp teeth and yep, he’s a goner.
“Yeah,” he answers dumbly, going back to his script, but he can’t focus now. Not when all he can think of is being bounced on this guy’s dick, being manhandled into submission even though that’s not something he was even aware he was into.
Until now, that is...
Until now, that is...
He hears Kirishima take a seat somewhere with a deep, tired groan, but all his stupefied brain can supply are mental images of that sound in a /different/ context.
“Sero!” calls Jirou, cell phone in hand. “Our leading lady got a ride. Says she’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Finally!” sighs the director as Kaminari leads a small cheer among the crew.
“Finally!” sighs the director as Kaminari leads a small cheer among the crew.
Kirishima, however, doesn’t join in and actually pouts. “Does this mean I can’t eat my sandwich?” he says to no one in particular.
‘I can think of a few other things you could be eating,’ Katsuki thinks, but says nothing. He doesn’t know if this guy is even into dudes. How does he even approach him? It’s been awhile since Katsuki’s hooked up outside of work, let alone dated.
What if he fucks up his chances? Does he even have a chance? Katsuki’s good-looking enough, it’s what pays his bills, but Kirishima’s on a whole other level. Hell, why isn’t HE in front of the camera? He could make bank with those bulging biceps alone.
But no, the man of his dreams is just sitting there, legs spread almost obscenely, and if Katsuki squints, he can just make out the outline of his cock.
“Put your eyeballs back in your head, Blasty,” quips Kaminari with an all-knowing grin.
“The fuck did you just call me?!” Katsuki rages, rising to his feet, but at that moment, there’s a quiet knock on the door.
“The fuck did you just call me?!” Katsuki rages, rising to his feet, but at that moment, there’s a quiet knock on the door.
“That must be her,” says Sero, snapping his fingers at Kirishima, who looks up. “Kiri, can get you show her inside please?”
Kirishima shrugs, disappearing from view, but Katsuki’s not complaining too much because those jeans are clinging to the perkiest ass he’s ever seen, and in his line of work, he’s seen quite a few.
There’s a brief conversation out of sight, and as the pair walk back, the actress, a petite-looking thing is already laying on the charm. She flutters her eyelashes at Kirishima and Katsuki feels an irrational stab of jealousy at the hand she places on his arm.
“So you must be Bakugou,” she simpers.
“Ah, no, I’m just the cameraman,” Kirishima corrects, friendly, but unaffected. “The guy you’re looking for is over there.”
“Ah, no, I’m just the cameraman,” Kirishima corrects, friendly, but unaffected. “The guy you’re looking for is over there.”
The girl doesn’t miss a beat. With a smile, she holds her hand out for him to shake, which Katsuki grudgingly accepts. “Nice to meet you, Bakugou.” She says her name, but Katsuki’s stopped caring at this point.
The makeup artist on set whisks her away before he can respond and he’s back to pretending to read his script while checking out Kirishima over the top of the page.
Kirishima himself doesn’t even notice his blatant ogling, too busy digging around his bag for his sandwich. God, his hands are so huge…everything about this guy is massive and Katsuki wants to explore every inch of him.
With his mouth.
With his mouth.
After what feels like forever, though it’s probably just been a few minutes, Sero claps his hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, let’s get this started. Places, people! I want this to run as smoothly as possible, especially after the morning I’ve had.”
“Alright, let’s get this started. Places, people! I want this to run as smoothly as possible, especially after the morning I’ve had.”
Katsuki stands up, tossing his script to the side. Time to get to work.
Eijirou’s running on two hours of sleep, he needs someone to inject caffeine into his veins because at this rate he’s gonna pass out AND he's starving!
On the other hand, his sandwich is miraculously not squashed when he finally retrieves it out of his bag.
On the other hand, his sandwich is miraculously not squashed when he finally retrieves it out of his bag.
He thanks God for small mercies.
“You guys don’t mind if I eat this, do you?” he asks the crew at large, and aside from a few snickers, no one seems to object. “I’m kinda running on empty.” Almost as if on cue, his stomach gives a loud rumble.
“You guys don’t mind if I eat this, do you?” he asks the crew at large, and aside from a few snickers, no one seems to object. “I’m kinda running on empty.” Almost as if on cue, his stomach gives a loud rumble.
“Fine, fine,” Sero says shortly, waving his hand dismissively. “As long as you keep that camera steady, I don’t care what you do.”
Feeling marginally better than he did walking in, Eijirou unwraps his sandwich, already salivating. Unfortunately, it’s already time to start filming, so he has to make do with holding the camera in one hand and holding his food in another.
“Quiet on the set!” calls Sero, ignoring the director’s chair in favor of smacking Denki upside the head to shut him up.
A hush falls over the scene and Sero lifts up a hand. “And…action.”
A hush falls over the scene and Sero lifts up a hand. “And…action.”
At this point, Eijirou moves as if on autopilot. He knows his cues, when to pan out, what areas to focus on. He’s done this so many times and he’s quite good at it.
The problem is that he’s just not…passionate about it. Not anymore, like back when he was a bright-eyed, twenty-year-old new intern in the movie industry. He wanted to capture that big moment, the kind that left audiences wide-eyed and amazed.
He wanted to create /art/.
He wanted to create /art/.
Instead, all that hard work resulted in endless coffee runs for tired, washed out directors who never tried anything new and so, /so/ many disappointments. He’s tried freelancing, but equipment is expensive and Eijirou barely gets by as it is.
So now he’s here. His buddy Sero pays well and treats him better than his old job did, so it’s not all bad. But Eijirou’s lost his drive, his talent behind the camera left to wither on the vine instead of flourishing, and he just doesn’t care.
He watches the blond crowd his co-star against the armrest of a couch and shifts to move closer, having watched this exact scene play out so many times already. Eijirou knows what Sero wants, so he pans the camera over to the girl.
Her acting is pretty good, as far as Eijirou can tell. She knows her strengths, how she can use her looks to her advantage. Her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink and when the two start to kiss, she squeezes her eyes shut like the shy virgin she’s pretending to be.
When they part, her chest heaves and she stares up at the blond, pupils blown wide in awe.
She bites her lip as her co-star yanks off his thick leather jacket, revealing a tight-fitting tank top underneath and Eijirou begins to suspect not all of it’s an act on her end.
She bites her lip as her co-star yanks off his thick leather jacket, revealing a tight-fitting tank top underneath and Eijirou begins to suspect not all of it’s an act on her end.
‘Huh,’ Eijirou thinks as she runs her hands almost reverently over his broad shoulders. ‘This guy has some nice muscles.’
The guy, Bakugou, is supposed to be one of the best in the business, and his experience shines through. He’s effortless in his delivery, and yeah, the lines are a bit over the top and filthy, but he somehow comes across as sexy and powerful instead of cringey.
It’s a shame Sero told him to focus on the actress instead of Bakugou because his eyes are so expressive. They’re blown over with want, desire rolling off him in waves, and when he pulls his zipper down, his cock hangs fat and heavy and /dripping/.
The girl says something, reaching for him, but at that moment, Sero waves his hand with a scowl on his face.
“Cut!” Sero calls, looking annoyed. “Bakugou, focus!”
“Cut!” Sero calls, looking annoyed. “Bakugou, focus!”
From behind him, Denki stifles a snort and Eijirou frowns. Did he miss something?
Sero heaves a sigh. “Alright, from the top! And this time with feeling!”
Sero heaves a sigh. “Alright, from the top! And this time with feeling!”
During next take, Eijirou watches with a sort of detached interest. He honestly doesn’t want to be here any longer than he has to. There’s a stray cat in his neighborhood he always leaves food out for, but in his haste to get here, he kind of forgot.
If they hurry, he can take the earliest train back home and get the premium cat food as his way of apologizing.
Clothes are starting to come off as the two actors make out feverishly, but all Eijirou can think of are the dishes piling up at home, the groceries he still needs to get, and his warm soft bed. He exhales quietly, feeling exhaustion seep into his bones.
He takes a bite out of his sandwich just as Bakugou starts to thrust inside, and the girl plays it up for the camera, hissing out a soft moan.
The sandwich itself is pretty damn good. Eijirou licks up some mayo from the corner of his mouth and nearly jumps when Bakugou sucks in a sharp breath and lets out a shuddering groan.
He’s been relatively quiet this whole time so it comes as a surprise he’s so vocal all of a sudden.
Eijirou sees Sero gesturing quietly to him out of the corner of his eye and he moves to a different angle, focusing on the actress’s expression for a moment before panning up to a quick shot of Bakugou’s face.
Much to his surprise, Bakugou’s eyes lock onto his. Eijirou blinks, confused. A seasoned pro making such a rookie mistake? What gives?
Sero slaps a hand to his forehead. “CUT!” He takes several deep breaths before letting himself speak. “Bakugou, for the love of Christ, can you PLEASE stop getting distracted!”
“Fine, fuck off!” Bakugou snaps, face reddening in anger.
Eijirou’s starting to get cranky. They just started but he can already tell it’s gonna be a long day…
Eijirou’s starting to get cranky. They just started but he can already tell it’s gonna be a long day…
Katsuki is suffering.
Well, if being balls deep in some nameless chick can even be called suffering. He’s trying, but it’s so hard to concentrate when the man of his dreams is less than a foot away watching him fuck.
Well, if being balls deep in some nameless chick can even be called suffering. He’s trying, but it’s so hard to concentrate when the man of his dreams is less than a foot away watching him fuck.
Actually, Kirishima’s not even looking at him. He’s staring at the display on his camera as he zooms in on his dick going in and out of a pussy he never even wanted in the first place.
This close, Kirishima is stunning. Katsuki’s never wanted anyone so bad in his life and he has trouble controlling his thoughts.
He wants Kirishima spread out underneath him, debauched and delirious from pleasure, head tilted back and throat bared so Katsuki can mark him as his. His grip on soft hips tightens and his thrusts pick up a little.
If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend it’s real. Pretend it’s Kirishima tightening around his cock, pretend it’s Kirishima’s lips he’s sucking on, that it’s his heels digging into the small of his back.
Katsuki lets his eyes open a sliver and to his delight, Kirishima is watching him closely. God, he should be used to being watched. It’s literally his fucking job.
But there’s something intense in those stupidly beautiful eyes and it makes his nerves thrum with excitement.
But there’s something intense in those stupidly beautiful eyes and it makes his nerves thrum with excitement.
He tilts his head back up to the ceiling and groans, lost in the fantasy his mind is painting.
But then the stupid bitch has to fucking moan loudly and ruin the illusion. Katsuki snaps his eyes open, faltering.
But then the stupid bitch has to fucking moan loudly and ruin the illusion. Katsuki snaps his eyes open, faltering.
He sees Sero get that stupid annoyed look on his face like he’s gonna call it, so Katsuki does the only thing he can think of. He pulls out, ignoring her whine of disappointment and flips her onto her stomach so he doesn’t have to look at her stupid face.
Maybe she’ll shut up too.
Doing this isn’t part of the script. He’s actually supposed to fold her legs back until her knees hit her shoulders, but Sero looks intrigued, curious as to what direction Katsuki’s going with this.
Doing this isn’t part of the script. He’s actually supposed to fold her legs back until her knees hit her shoulders, but Sero looks intrigued, curious as to what direction Katsuki’s going with this.
He pushes her head down until it presses against the armrest, pausing to see if there’s any resistance, but finding none, he thrusts inside. She practically convulses underneath him and judging from her muffled moans, she’s bitten into the material of the couch.
Kirishima shifts to focus on her expression, obviously not wanting to miss a crucial shot, but Katsuki’s getting close. He wants some kind of sign that Kirishima’s at least a little interested, but he doesn’t know how draw attention without Sero getting angry.
“Close,” he grunts, and the stupid chick underneath him starts getting louder even though he isn’t going any faster, as if her moaning is going to help him finish quicker when it’s doing the exact opposite.
Katsuki watches Kirishima get close enough for him to actually see the display on his camera. It’s only showing his lower half pounding into the actress.
That’s when Katsuki does something that’s both stupid in the moment and absolutely perfect in hindsight.
That’s when Katsuki does something that’s both stupid in the moment and absolutely perfect in hindsight.
It’s not a well-thought out plan. In fact, his body just moves without thinking. But it’s worth it to see Kirishima’s beautiful eyes grow wide and the flush that settles high on his cheeks when Katsuki’s hand brushes against his cheek.
The way Kirishima’s pupils dilate does Katsuki in. He has just enough sense to pull out and finish all over the chick’s back, but he holds his gaze steady.
He knows Kirishima can't hear his thoughts. But in that moment, he wishes he could.
He knows Kirishima can't hear his thoughts. But in that moment, he wishes he could.
'This is how I'll look when I cum in you,' Katsuki thinks. 'I want you to ruin me for everyone else...'
For a moment, there’s just the sound of Katsuki’s heavy breathing and the actress’s heavy panting.
Then his vision is obscured by a bathrobe smacking him in the face.
Then his vision is obscured by a bathrobe smacking him in the face.
“What the fuck?” he screeches, flailing and taking far too long to yank it around him. Much to his dismay, however, Kirishima is nowhere to be seen.
Kaminari’s losing it, doubled over and wheezing and Katsuki’s just about to drop kick him when Sero pulls him aside. He does not look happy.
“Okay, what the hell’s going on with you today?” Sero admonishes under his breath. “You’re lucky we got what we needed, but this cannot happen again. Do you understand?”
“What’s the big fuckin’ deal?” Katsuki grouses, crossing his arms. “You got your precious shots. Nothing was ruined. I did my part. What more do you want?”
Sero draws himself up to this full height and scowls. “Look, Bakugou. Kirishima’s not like the other hookups you’ve had, alright? He’s my friend and I care about him a lot. So unless you actually want to do something a little more serious than a casual fling, back off.”
Katsuki can’t help but laugh. “Are you fucking serious? Even my own mother can’t tell me what to do. Let the man decide for himself.”
He steps back and turns his back on Sero, flipping him off over his shoulder. “If he doesn’t want me, I’ll back off. But I need to hear it from him.”
Katsuki ignores Sero’s indignant squawking in favor of looking for Kirishima. He’s got to be around here somewhere…
Katsuki ignores Sero’s indignant squawking in favor of looking for Kirishima. He’s got to be around here somewhere…
He finally spots telltale red hair ducking into the restroom. He can’t let him get away. He’d never forgive himself.
…And maybe he kinda sorta wants to check out his dick.
…And maybe he kinda sorta wants to check out his dick.
The cool water feels refreshing on his heated skin and calms his racing heart. Eijirou lets out a heavy exhale and pats his face dry with a paper towel. He’s not sure what just happened or if he just hallucinated the entire thing.
Bakugou is…something, he’ll give him that. Eijirou never took much notice of all the people he’s filmed over the years. Faces just kind of blur together after a while.
But Bakugou is a cut above the rest. He’s so striking, beautiful with features that are both sharp and soft at the same time. Those eyes are so intense, and the way they pinned him down during filming…
It’s not like he’s never been propositioned before. In this line of work, it’s bound to happen at some point. But Eijirou always has enough sense to decline. He knows how these things usually unfold.
‘God, I’m so tired,’ he thinks. Maybe he can grab some tea if he has any money to spare during his grocery run.
Just as he’s about to head out to leave, the bathroom door swings open.
Just as he’s about to head out to leave, the bathroom door swings open.
And in walks the person Eijirou least wants to see right now.
“So you’re still here.” Bakugou’s voice is like gravel, deep and rough enough to send tiny, imperceptible shivers down his spine. He’s wearing a soft, white bathrobe that perfectly highlights the flush on his cheeks and ears.
It reminds Eijirou of how his face looked when he came.
Okay, no. Bad thoughts! He needs to focus on the present.
Okay, no. Bad thoughts! He needs to focus on the present.
“Uh, yeah…um,” Eijirou starts, clearing his throat nervously, “I was actually about to head out. Got stuff to do and a cat to feed.” He chuckles a little self-consciously and winces internally. God, he must sound so stupid…
Bakugou raises an eyebrow, a slow smile curving his lips. “That’s fine, this won’t take too long.”
Now Eijirou’s confused. “Dude, what are you talking about?”
Now Eijirou’s confused. “Dude, what are you talking about?”
In seconds, Bakugou’s crowding in his space, backing him up against the wall. This close, Eijirou detects hints of cologne and something mildly sweet underneath that’s all Bakugou. His heart jumps to his throat at the soft caresses on his shoulders.
“Tell me to stop and I’ll leave,” Bakugou whispers. His breath against Eijirou’s collarbone makes goosebumps break out all over his skin and he resists the urge to shiver. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
Eijirou briefly squeezes his eyes shut, flustered beyond belief. God, he really should put a stop to this. But the soft gentle kisses on the little bit of his exposed chest is making it hard to think, let alone put up resistance.
Is this really okay? Is it even a good idea?
Is this really okay? Is it even a good idea?
He doesn’t know. All he can focus on is the way Bakugou’s hands are going lower, traveling down his pecs and giving them a squeeze, and judging by the way he sucks in a breath, he’s super into them.
“God, how are you this perfect?” Bakugou mutters, voice almost reverent as his hands trail lower, brushing against his abs and hooking into the waistband of his pants. “Just look at you…so fucking /huge/, goddamn...”
Oh fuck…Eijirou’s always been so weak to praise. His hands hover awkwardly in the air, fingers twitching slightly from indecision. He wants to touch so badly, but…
With a quiet snarl against his skin, Bakugou reaches back and grabs his hands before placing them firmly over his ass. Eijirou chokes on a breath and instinctively squeezes just as all the blood rushes to his dick.
It’s like a switch has been flipped. Soft lips devour his own with a heady moan, pushing and kneading, coaxing them open.
Gone are the gentle touches and kisses from before. Bakugou practically manhandles him, groping and squeezing everywhere, from his pecs to his shoulders to his ass.
Eijirou rumbles low in his throat, his chest growing tight from how incredible Bakugou’s tongue feels against his own. He hasn’t had too many kisses in his lifetime, but not one of them comes close to how good this is.
Bakugou tastes incredible, almost sweet. Eijirou can’t get enough. He gets a little too carried away, bending him backwards a little from the force of his kissing, but Bakugou seems to love it, groaning loudly into his mouth.
“Mmh, fuck…!” Bakugou breathes, pulling away a scant few centimeters before diving back in again. “Shit, that’s good…mmn…” He arches under Eijirou’s hand running up his back, pressing himself forward.
Eijirou’s stopped thinking at this point. He should be more careful. He should be thinking this through.
But he’s too far gone. He can’t stop now even if he wanted to.
But he’s too far gone. He can’t stop now even if he wanted to.
It’s when Bakugou actually sinks to his knees that his brain short-circuits.
Taking a small break to eat! Back to the top, cuz this thread's getting a tad long... https://twitter.com/itsfkincheebs/status/1264445387957587973?s=20
