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You Got Me Bewitched, I Am Under Your Spell

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Kirishima can't help but mull over all he's learned while he hacks through foliage. He’s in swamp territory, deep enough that no one who actually enjoys living would travel out this far.

His best friends Ashido Mina and Kaminari Denki are behind him. They only take a step forward after Kirishima has cut their path for them. It's a sure way to keep them both alive, since neither of them are actually watching their surroundings.

Kirishima rolls his eyes at the sounds of Kaminari clicking away on his Switch and Mina's rapid thumb movements as she texts. They're lucky Kirishima doesn't purposely lead them into a bog, tar pit, a gator's jaws…

He would (they’d be fine) but according to every person Kirishima has talked to in the last month, Kirishima is going to need the backup where they’re going.

Kirishima is running out of time.

He has to do this.

No matter how many people try to dissuade him.

Kiri, you don’t want to be doin’ this. Shouji, the four armed Terrazth? He went to that swamp witch for a cure for his arms. Shouji had just found out his mate was human. Rotten bad luck. None of our city witches would help him.

So, he goes lookin’ for yer witch. And oh, he finds what he’s looking fer no doubt. ‘Cept, he doesn’t get relief. Nope. The bluidy witch gives him two more arms to try to explain!”

Kirishima really doesn’t need any extra limbs.

“What about poor Tsu! She went to that cottage looking for a lotion for her skin. She wasn’t looking to change anything about herself, just get a little help for the upcoming hot weather, and BAM! That fuckwit Hag turned her into an outcast. No one can touch her now! Not without dying!”

Actually, out of all the stories Kirishima heard 0 out 1000 had a good ending.

Extra arms and fucked up skin are GOOD things to look forward to if you tussle with that witch. Midoriya went out there a decade ago and he was never heard from again!”

Kirishima swats at a giant mosquito. I don’t have a choice!

Kirishima hacks at the last defense of weeds, his machete snapping the plants at the middle. He steps over them, almost steps into a fucking tar pit, before he finds his footing in a puddle of murky water. Shit. His shoes.

“That’s what you get for wearing your crocs,” Mina comments, without looking up from her phone.

“Says the person wearing heels, right now.” Kaminari responds for Kirishima, pushing upwards on his joystick.

“I’ll have you know--”

Kirishima tunes them out. He’s heard this argument or one similar on repeat for the last hour. Plus, he’s more concerned with the rustling leaves in the distance. They’re deep enough in the swamp now that the movement could be anything from a gator to a panther.

Not wanting to find out, he moves forward. There seems to be a natural path in front of them. It’s short though a little overgrown. Thankfully it opens up there just ahead--

Oh. Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Fact-Kirishima Eijirou is a feared mercenary for the stone golems.

Mercenary is a broad term. The word calls for all kinds. Mercs like Kiri, who only take jobs of protection or heroic deeds like stealing a sword from an undeserving demon king. A really nice sword. (Seriously that sword was gorgeous and the guy really didn’t even need it.)

Some mercenaries pick the tougher jobs. Thieving, killing, and kidnapping.

But okay, fact- Just because Kiri picked the nicer jobs does not mean he’s a wimp.

But… fine. FACT- Not that he would admit it out loud, but uh, looking at the atrocity in front of him?

Kirishima might be a little bit of a wimp.

It’s not even a house. Not really. It’s wilted weeds and rotten wood. The thatched roof looks like a mess of dead hair, and the gnarled tree limbs that frame the door look like bones.

It’s wayyyyyyy scarier than any job he’s been on. And he’s seen a cat eating Sorceri male up close.

Of course the cottage is just a fluffy exterior. It’s nothing compared to the horror that lies inside.

“I don’t know about this,” Kaminari says from his side.

“I don’t have a choice.” And he doesn’t. Not really.

Mina, also now standing next to him hums. “We all have a choice.” Her hand lands on his shoulder, squeezes the muscles tight. “For what it’s worth. I think you’re making the right one.”

Me too. Now I just need courage.

“That’s fucking scary.” He stretches and lets out a groan. “Weeeelllll, it was nice knowing you.” Kaminari suddenly declares, giving him a quick hug. “But my boyfriends are a’calling. Well, maybe they’re not, but I’ll be damned if I die in the cottage with you. Loooove youuuuuu.” And in a puff of yellow smoke, he’s gone.

Kirishima turns to Mina, about to bitch to her about Kaminari leaving them here, but she’s nowhere to be found and there’s a prewritten post-it note on his sleeve.  

You’re braver than any US Marine, loveyoubye~ <3

He crumbles the yellow paper in his hand. How the fuck had she even done that?!

Sighing, Kirishima walks up the rockway leading to the door. Ignoring all the signs posted that declare, “KEEP OUT” and “Go Away!” written in every language Kirishima has ever seen, and some he hasn’t.

A normal person wouldn’t even need to read the signs before they tucked tail and ran. There’s swamp water surrounding the stones, lapping at the sides the only entrance. It's dark and thick. Odorous.

Gods. This place is just the best. 10/10 Would set on fire and never return.

Mentally psyching himself up, Kirishima pushes open the front door. As soon as his fingers touch the wood, it eases open with a creak. Loud enough to be the star in a horror movie.

Kirishima is seconds away from nopeing out of this swamp, this forest, the entire fucking country. His hackles rise, the hairs on his arms standing up in alarm, warning him that he should not be here. He should definitely not enter.

He wants to listen to his instincts soooo badly. But he can’t. This is too important.

For the most part the cottage is dimly lit. There’s a mess of candles, all different sizes and shapes, clumped together by the dozens and also singles. The light coming in through the only window barely helps illuminate more than what’s directly in front of it. But at least, Kirishima isn’t totally blind.

The cottage smells. Not like one would think. There’s no scent of rot or decay. The fragrances coming out of the various plants mingle in the air with something fiery. Something sweet. It’s smells kind of what a bakery might if they used a stone brick oven.

The house is the definition of cluttered. Jars full of…. Actually, it’s best Kirishima try not to think about what’s in there. Not if he wants to get through this with his lunch in his stomach.

There’s movement inside. Behind tall candles and large plants. Kirishima can barely make out the shape of a man between the leaves.  

The wicked witch of the swamp.

The witch is standing at a workshop bench. He’s preoccupied, grinding materials together with a mortar and pestle. He doesn’t look up from the tools in his hands, doesn't act like he even sees Kirishima standing in his doorway. He just absently fingers the items above his head.

At first glance it looks like cloves of garlic. But with a second closer look, and a deep shudder Kirishima realizes that they are tiny skulls tied into leaves. Which is just… messed up.

The witch fingers each skull in the bundle before he stops and plucks one completely off the bunch. He holds it in the center of his hand, before he closes his fingers around the hard bone. There’s a crunch before he opens his hand back up and pours ash into the bowl.

Fuck. He’s strong.

And Kirishima? Kirishima is STRONG. Like can lift a fucking train, strong. But this guy? He radiates manly like a freaking beacon.

He doesn’t hum while he works. He doesn’t thrum his fingers or tap his foot. He’s so quiet. Not even his movements as he reaches for ingredients register sound to Kirishima’s sensitive ears.

Spooky.

“Uh… hello?” Kirishima calls, his deep voice echoing in the room.

He doesn’t answer.

Not one to be discouraged by silence, even if that silence is scary as hell, Kirishima steels his nerves and steps over the threshold.

That the male notices.

He immediately stops grinding, his head tilting to an almost forty five degree angle. It’s almost cat like. It’s absolutely eerie.

Even though Kirishima’s view of him is limited he can tell he seems to contemplate something before speaking. He hmphs, before he calls out, “Leave.” He grabs a fistful of sour smelling leaves off the plant in front of him and drops them into his bowl.

What?! No way! Kirishima advances further, the doorway creaking under his feet. He won’t take that for an answer. “I need your help?” Frick. Why did that sound like a question when it should have been a statement?

The witch doesn’t look up again, but he swears the male rolls his eyes. “Leave. Now.”

With a purely impulsive and bold move, Kirishima steps fully inside the cottage and shuts the door, sealing himself inside with the most unstable Lorean in the world. “No.”

The witch stops grinding at that. He drops the mortal and pestle onto the top of the desk like it means nothing. He wipes his hands on something at his waist and steps away from his workbench.

There’s no telling what the witch is about to do, and Kirishima’s stomach plummets. Why didn’t he bring a weapon?!

A bird, a raven?, appears up high on one of the rafters. Or maybe it had been there from the start. It moves its feet like it’s irritated and squawks directly down at them.

The witch’s head tilts down again, as he regards Kiri like one might a pesky fly. “You don’t say,” The witch answers in it's direction. Spooky.

With a huff, the male walks around, the plants no longer obscuring Kirishima’s view. Gifting him with his first actual glimpse of the deadly swamp witch.

Kirishima gasps. Actually gasps. Out loud. For the witch and hell, even the raven to hear.

Holy hell. He looks young. Not old and gnarled.

Which shouldn’t be surprising. Age means nothing if you’re a Lorean. People transition at different times in their lives. Just because you look a certain age, means nothing in relation to your actual age. Kirishima himself probably looks twenty-five tops. But in 18 days, he’ll be 500 years old.

The witch is gorgeous.

There’s no way someone so pretty is called Hag.

Blonde hair is spiked outward like the needles of a thistle, tied into braids, with beads… a finger bone?.. And various organic materials.

His ears were pointed up like a fey’s, but subtler. Cuter.

Black kohl covers his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his sharp cheekbones.

For fuck’s sake. He’s perfect.

His chest is bare, his shoulders covered in more of that black kohl. Decorated in rivets like the melting of an ash iciscle on his skin. A few freckles poke out, like stars, not completely hidden by the dark.

Kirishima wouldn’t mind tracing those with his tongue.

And boy, the witch is built.

With muscles rivaling a Lykae or a vampire’s. He is strong. Like… strong enough to lift Kirishima up. His nipples are adourned with silver barbels, one’s that make Kirishima desperate to lick--

Uh, yeah, anyway.

Kirishima clears his throat. He quickly looks anywhere else.

The raven flies down a lands on the workshop table. It’s feet make clacking sounds as it bounces around. Those intelligent beady black eyes narrow and Kirishima swears it’s looking directly at him.

Maybe it’s not a raven. Maybe it’s a crow? What’s even the difference?

The witch nods, like someone has spoken. “Yeah. No shit.” He rolls his eyes up at Kirishima. “Like I said, golem. I cannot help you. Leave.” He sighs when Kiri doesn’t attempt movement. “Must I force you?”

Yes, Kirishima thinks. I can’t feel my legs.

A raise of his blonde eyebrow. He smirks and it almost makes Kirishima puddle at his feet.

“Y-you, uh,” Kirishima swallows hard, trying to talk past the lump in his throat. “You don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Wrong.” He corrects. “And I can’t help you. Leave.”

“No!  Now stop saying that!” Kirishima resists (barely) the urge to stomp his foot in frustration. “You sound like a broken record.” He says petulantly.

The witch crosses his arms. His big, thick, manly arms. “And you sound like a child.” He snaps.

Kirishima's face heats in equal parts embarrassment and anger. That is not the image he's going for.

Running out of time. He has to help me.

The witch listens again before sighing. “Look. You need to leave. I don't help people.”

What the hell is this guy's problem? Why isn't he even willing to listen to why Kirishima came all this way? “No,” Kirishima bites out, his fist clenching. “I guess you don't help people. I heard what you did to Shouji!”

His face immediately hardens and the crow gives a soft chirp. Almost like he's trying to discourage Kirishima from using that accusatory tone with the blonde. “Who.”

Shit, man. You don't even know their names?! That's cruel. Shouji is the four armed Terrazth! He came to you for help. And you gave him more problems!” Kirishima swipes out his hands in a what gives? gesture. “And what about Tsu?!”

Kirishima sees the who forming on the witch's lips and he cuts him off. “The frog nymph. She came to you for a simple potion and you made her poisonous!”

Kirishima's chest is heaving. Why the hell did he even come out here? This had been a bad idea to come see someone they called hag. Kirishima got it now. It all made fucking sense. The nickname had nothing to do with the male's beauty and everything to do with his shitty attitude--

Kirishima can't help but flinch when the witch suddenly slams a dish down on the table, his teeth clenched. The fire behind him rages, completely consuming the black cauldron hanging over the fire. The blonde growls, a wild animal, and Kirishima swears there's live flames in his palms. “I also gave that asshole the ability to RETRACT all those arms, fucker!” With a swipe of his forearm he knocks a shelf full of jars to the floor. Most of them explode when they hit the floor, colors of smoke and smells wafting up. “And FUCK. YOU. Frog girl?! Her fate is to be kidnapped in a Lorean auction! I can't change her destiny, prick! But I can keep her fucking safe! So watch your godsdamn mouth when you talk to me!”

That… shocked Kirishima silent. The witch had… helped?

Chest heaving, the witch raises his chin at Kirishima, daring him to say something else.

Kirishima can only think of one thing to say. “I'm… sorry.”

“Yeah. You should be.” Bakugou mutters gruffly, obviously not expecting an apology but pleased by it.

Kirishima smiles. Okay, so. The witch wasn't that bad. Plus, he was cute when he got worked up. “Wait,” Kiri suddenly recalls. “There was one more. What about Midoriya? They say you cursed him. That you keep here in a cage. Your own personal pet.” Kirishima scratches his chin. “I have hard time believing that one was for his own good.”

The raven flies to the witch's shoulder, turning its head just so, until it looks like it's about to whisper in his ear before he opens his beak and screeches.

Katsuki swats the thing away with a laugh, an actual laugh. The sound is so beautiful to hear, rough sounding and deep.

It makes a wave roll through Kirishima. The reason he's here flares up, and demands he pay attention to it. His joints lock down just as the blonde says, “Now, that one, I did.” The bird squawks again and it’s answered with a roll of his eyes.

“Stop bitching.” He demands. But that smile is still in place. “The curse is up in another three years anyway.”  

The longer Kirishima stays in this cottage, in this man's presence, the more personable he becomes. Almost like a glamour of indifference, or a barrier at simply being alone, is being eaten away at to reveal the true volatile, charming being underneath.

The witch catches him staring. No doubt he notices the way Kirishima is damn near slack jawed in awe, dick hard in his pants. (Okay look that's not his fault. He can't help being a gay disaster)

His smile slowly fades. “You really should leave, shitty hair.”

Kirishima's hand snaps up to his hair. Shitty? What? Kirishima's hair was manly.

“I need your help.” Kirishima finds himself saying again. He looks down at his fingers. Right now they look normal. Tan and soft. But soon, without his permission the joints will lock up and cement together. Forever.

The witch sighs. “I can't help you.” He bends down and touches some of the shards of glass he threw on the floor earlier.

“Why?” Kirishima whispers brokenly. This was his last resort. His last hope. If this witch can't help, then Kirishima is doomed.

“You want to fix nature. Nature is timeless. It’s forever.” The witch looks up at Kirishima while he's hunched over the mess of items, looking for his reaction to the news.

Kirishima's cheeks are bright red and he knows it. But damn, the witch's face is almost eyelevel, mouthlevel with the waistband of his jeans. And Kirishima might be inexperienced, but even he can think of several scenarios in his head that would be… similar.

Kirishima wouldn't mind pressing his cock to his sharp cheekbones, slapping his pale skin with the tip until precum mixed with that pretty kohl.

Or course he was also good with a straight out blow job, content to get his cock sucked so hard the blonde's cheeks hollowed.

“--can't do it without major fucking payment.” He was saying. “And look at you. All dressed up for the party with nothing to offer me.” He comes to a stand, tossing the glass back down into the pile with a scowl.

“I do have money,” Kirishima says, a little irritated. With himself and with the witch. For being so damn pretty.

“Be hard not to have any at your age.”

True. An immortal without money was a stupid immortal.

“But no, shitty hair. Your money is useless. Once again, because you aren't listening. You,” he points a finger into Kirishima's chest. The first time they've touched, and Kirishima's skin ripples with another wave of hardening. “Have nothing,” He shakes his head to enunciate. “I want.” He points his thumb to himself, stepping back. “Get it now?”

I get it. But that can't be it. “I… I heard about… blood sacrifices.” Kirishima divulges, his voice at whisper. As if anyone can hear them. Out here. In the swamp. Miles away from civilization. Where no one can hear their screams.

“No.”

Kirishima almost groans in frustration. “Why not?”

The witch sighs angrily. “Think of it this way.” He looks down at the shattered glasses, and back up to a fully loaded shelf. Repeats the process. Before he shrugs and pushes that shelf into the floor as well.

He jumps up, until that tiny ass of his is perched on the now clean shelf. He's nearly a foot taller than Kirishima right now, looking down at him with intelligent crimson eyes and Kirishima is living for it.

“Let's say I take your blood sacrifice.” His hand shoots out, wrapping around his bird/Midoriya? (scaring it shitless if the squak is anything to go by) and drawing it into his lap. The bird's feathers ruffle, and he snaps his beak at Katsuki's finger. Bright red blood wells, and Katsuki shoos the bird away.

A drop lands on the broken glass. But only one. Then his immortal body heals the edges of skin together and the wound disappears. He snaps his fingers. “But bam! Within seconds, your body has replenished what I took.”

Kirishima doesn't get to interrupt, the witch not done spinning his excuses. “Let's say I take a finger. Or a limb. It's all the same. I spend all the time removing it, for it to regrow within a day. It all returns to you. You can't offer me one fucking thing that doesn't come back.” He sighs. “The curse of being an immortal I guess.”

No. No this can't be the end. There has to be something the witch wants. “What about material things?” Kirishima suddenly exclaims. “I have a really nice house.”

The witch scoffs. “Ha. Have you seen where I live, asshole?” He gestures around the dingy cottage. “Why would I trade all this grandeur for your shitty hovel?”

Are we looking at the same cottage? ‘Grandeur'? That's the last word Kiri would use. Fuck, is that mold growing in the corner? “Uhhhhh…. I don't know, dude. Your place could use like… a coat of paint or something?” Or a bomb to blow it all up so you can start over.

A shrug. “Anyway, no. No material things. What would stop you from going out and getting another?”

Kirishima's heart twists. He's starting to panic. It's hard to ignore, the rippling across his skin getting more and more frequent until he feels like the hardening has seized his lungs and has made breathing impossible. “So,” he says, trying for calm. “That's why people give you their first born. You only have one first born.”

The witch clicks his tongue in agreement, but then he grimaces. “I don't want anyone's fucking kids. Could you imagine?” He shudders. What the fuck would I do with a horde of immortal children? Open a daycare?”

“It doesn't matter,” Kirishima says lamely. “I don't have any kids to offer you.”

He nods. Like he knows. And shit, maybe he does.

“So are we done here, golem? Can I go back to brewing potions and tormenting my pet?

And… there's nothing else Kirishima can think of to offer. He'd offer his life, but that would just be redundant. If he doesn't get help, he's going to die anyway.

Kirishima falls back against the door, slides his back down until he lands on his ass. He's about eye level with the witch's bare feet, and Kirishima absently notes that even the blonde's toes are cute.

Kirishima's head thumps against the wood. It offers him no clarity so he does it again. Nope. Still no insight.

He needs to go home. Needs to get his affairs in order.

But.. he's reluctant to leave the witch.

“What's your name?” Kirishima finds himself asking. “Surely it can't actually be Hag?”

For a long while Kirishima doesn't think the witch is going to answer. He figures it's probably been decades since someone asked his name. Hell, since someone has even traveled out here.

“Bakugou.” He finally says, his eyes on Kirishima's face. “Katsuki Bakugou.”

Katsuki, huh? It suits him. Is the perfect mouthful of a name, too. Would be a good thing to shout.

“My turn then, Shitty hair. Got a question for you.” He hops down from his perch, landing hunched, before he shifts closer to Kirishima, almost reluctantly. But still, he comes close, close enough to inhale his delicious scent, before he settles next to Kirishima with his back to the door. “Why did you wait so long? Everyone knows about your kind’s timeline. Why didn't you try harder to combat the curse?”

Everyone knows, huh? Yeah. He reckons they do. The closer he gets to his birthday, the less people converse with him like normal people. The more and more they look at him with pity. Like they know he has days left before he stops being a person at all.

Kirishima is a rock golem. A rare species with maybe only a hundred left spread over the entire world.

Rock golems are strong. Physically and mentally, capable of taking blow after blow without crumpling. With a second skin almost, a layer of rock hard hardening, they are perfect combatants for any foe.

Of course, like every species, they have a weak spot. The vampires have the sun. The Lykae had the moon. Valkyrie had shiny objects and Wendigos have salt.

At the age of five hundred, rock golems turn to rock. Indefinitely.

Immortals are hard to kill. To actually kill, an injury has to be grande and fast. A beheading, or mystical fire.

Or all your organs turning to stone in your chest.

Because of the deadline most rock golems spend the majority of their life after transitioning to an immortal searching for their fated female.

It was the only way to cure the hardening.

Kirishima… hadn't done that.

It's not that he wanted to be turned into a stone statue. But…

Kirishima knew long ago that there would be no fated girl out there for him.

“I, uh, lost track of time?” Kirishima smiles sadly with the lie. “I've never been a good rock golem. I'm too soft.”

Katsuki frowns, his brow furrowing. “Soft has it's uses too, idiot. It's not always a bad thing. When I go to bed at night, I don't think Damn I hope this bed is hard as rock. I want soft.”

Kiri shivers. That sounds an awful lot like I want you in Kirishima's head. If only.

Katsuki sighs. “You should go, Kirishima Eijirou. As much as we both might want otherwise I can't help you. So unless you want to spend the rest of your existence in my garden…”

Kirishima laughs. A garden? Here? In the swamp? Still. “As opposed to my family's garden?”

It's tradition. All unmated rock golems come home for their final resting places.

Kirishima used to play between the statues as a boy, laughing and talking to them.

One day, some other child would climb all over his hardened body.

Kirishima's eyes water but he refuses to cry in front of someone so manly. He needs to go. He needs to tell Mina and Denki. He needs to tell his mother.

Wait. Shit. Kaminari and Mina were kind of his ticket home. Rock golems can't trace. Which means… fuck. Which means he's spending the next three hours walking back through swamp territory unless one of them answers their phone.

Maybe a gator will eat him. That'd be nice.

Kirishima pulls out his cellphone. He rings Mina first because she's the more likely to answer.

Nothing.

Kirishima ends the call, his fingers cracking plastic. Fuck.

He's about to crush the damn thing in his fist. Really he doesn't need it for such a short amount of time.

Plus, it would do him some good. He'd probably spend the last weeks of his life mostly on the damn thing--

WAIT!

"Come on, Shitty Hair. I'll show you out.”

Kirishima shakes his head. “Wait. Just..  just hang on.” He fumbles, trying to unlock his phone with shaking fingers. It wasn't so hard a second ago. Why can't he get the digits to cooperate?

“This isn't the stone age anymore. We have technology.” Kiri mutters.

He finally manages to type in his passcode, and go to browser. The hardening rolling through his limbs he types:

What can you only give someone once?  

Kirishima holds his breath, the search spewing out-

 

It's Time To Stop Giving 100% To People Who Only Give You 50% It can be devastating to realize that you're the only one in the relationship giving 100%. If that's the case, here's why it's time to stop

 

Not about to be discouraged, Kirishima rewords the search. Maybe it's the wording.

What can you give up one time only?

Come on… come on…

 

20 Things You Need To Give Up If You Want To Be Truly Happy - Lifehack The only thing standing in your way towards happiness is you; no one else is allowed to set up limits for you but you, nor there should be…

 

Of course not. Kirishima stares at the words, his breath catching. I'm going to die. He realizes. He scrubs a hand down his tired face.

He has nothing to give up….

Give… up...

Only once.

Fuck.

Suddenly, Kirishima knows exactly what he can give Katsuki as payment.

Can he really suggest such a thing?

I'll die if I don't.

Kirishima's face turns bright red. He opens his mouth, tries to spit out the words over his hammering heart. Is it hot in here? It feels hot.

Katsuki hums beside him. “Well, Shitty Hair? You got a solution? Something to offer me?”

“Fuck me,” Kirishima curses. Then immediately flinches at his word choice. He ducks his head wishing he could just send Katsuki a text or a handwritten letter instead of saying it out loud. Best to just blurt it out. “M-my virginity.” He says with a flush.

Katsuki reels back like Kirishima has hit him with a physical blow. His pupils go wide in shock and his lips open on a parted breath. “Your WHAT?!”

“I, uh…” Kirishima clears his throat again--freaking can't breathe- and tries hard not to look at the other male. “You can only give that once right? And I haven't… I've never….”

The hearth fire blazes again, flames so large they look like they've shot across the room. Katsuki jumps up and away from Kirishima, his hands curling into fists. “I…. Fuck. How the hell are you 500 and have never put your dick in someone?!”

Kirishima is too embarrassed to answer.

Katsuki starts to pace, but he's almost awkward with it, plundering forward with too much aggression, stomping his feet too hard to be relaxing. He stops every minute or so to just stare at Kirishima before he starts up again.

“Would…. Would that work?”

Katsuki stops moving, but he's breathing like he ran a marathon. He rubs his hand over his face,  a mimic of Kirishima's earlier movement, and smears the kohl down his face and all over his hand. His hair is like an explosion around him.

So cute.

“What the fuck do you expect me to do? I can't… I can't bottle that shit like I would any other offering.”

Gods, surely all Kirishima's blood is in his face. (Or in his dick.) “I mean,” He smiles a little. “I… That is to say, I could... I mean,”

“Spit it out, golem.”

“You could just have sex with me.” Eijirou throws out a hand. “I'm.. willing. I'm…” very very willing. “Anyway, you'll hear no complaints from me.”

Unless, fuck. Kirishima didn't even consider if Katsuki was actually into him. Probably not.

“Unless you're not into it!” Kirishima rushes to explain. “I know that I am not pretty like yo--”

Katsuki is suddenly in front of him. His fingers circle around Kirishima's wrist, hot like a brand, before they jerk into his body.

Kirishima fucking whines.

But Katsuki is to blame, not him, because he's the one that yanked Kirishima's hand and put it on his clothed cock. His very hard, massive clothed cock.

Kirishima squeezes his fingers reflexively. Fuck. Katsuki is impressive.

The witch's eyes go heavy lidded. “I promise you that is not the fucking issue.”

No shit. Kirishima thinks as he rubs his fingers down the long length. No fucking shit.

Katsuki groans at the feel of Ei's hand on him, but he steps away. He sighs in frustration. Kirishima's hands tingle, itching to get back on Katsuki.

“Look.” Katsuki walks over to the cauldron hanging over the fire. The flame is higher than a normal fire, but it's not as bad as it was. It seems to keep its level based on… Katsuki?

“I… fucking hell. Okay.” He points a finger in Kirishima's direction. “Don't tell another godsdamn person what I'm about to do for you.” He reaches into the boiling pot and pulls a perfectly dry pouch from the liquid.

“You… don't want anyone to know you and I had sex?” and ouch. That kind of stings. Is Kirishima really that disgusting?

Katsuki storms over to his workbench, pushing everything he was previously working on backwards to start a new spell? potion? “I'm going to divine your fucking fated female. Free of fucking charge.” He pulls out a long purple cloth from the desk and lays it flat on the table. “I'll find her. Tell you where she is. You can fuck her before your birthday and stop moping on my floor, alright?”

Kirishima jumps to his feet. What?? “Wait! Not that… not that I'm not grateful but why? Why not…” Have sex with me? “The first option?”

Katsuki frowns, drawing some intricate symbols on the cloth. “This ain't no reason for you to whore yourself out to a hag.”

Kirishima's stomach drops for the eighth time today. He… he doesn't want this. “Just wait dude!”

But Katsuki doesn't listen. He picks up the pouch and loosens the drawstrings. He ignore Kirishima's protests as he dumps the contents into his hand. Bones spill out.

Kirishima feels like he's going to be sick. And it's not the bones. He should be happy. This is a lot more than the city witches had offered and for a hell of a discounted price. But..  Kiri's female?

Forgetting Kirishima's own personal problems with it-- (Seriously what if Katsuki found her and she was willing but Kiri wasn't up to the challenge?) Kirishima would never force the girl to bed him.

And it would be forcing. Even if she consented, the reasoning for it was all wrong. If you don't fuck me in 18 days then you lose the chance to get to know if you even like me.”

It wasn't fair. Not for any party involved.

He… he doesn't want a female.

Katsuki's rolls the bones over the cloth. The sound of them hitting the desktop echoes in Kirishima's ears. Katsuki's fingers their position, before he exhales in… shock?

“Holy fuck,” He breathes.

The crow swoops down to get a look. It's head tilts back and it starts… laughing. There's no better word for the sound.

Kirishima squints at the bones but he can't see anything profound.

Katsuki steps back. His eyes are wide still. Like he's seen a ghost.

“Okay, okay.” He shakes his hands out like he's preparing himself. Like a boxer before a particularly hard fight in the ring. He lifts his chin, meeting Kirishima's gaze. “Option one it is.”

Dry mouthed, Kirishima croaks, “What?”

The word barely leaves his lips before Katsuki is eating up the distance between them, yanking the collar of his shirt, and slamming their lips together.

Static dances down Kirishima's spine, like an electric shock. And as unexpected as the kiss is, Kirishima can't stop his loud moan.

The kiss is hard, a smashing of tight lips and Kirishima's teeth slam into his bottom lip and no doubt, Katsuki's bottom lip too.

The witch's lips open on a gasp as the pain registers and he pulls back, eyes flashing an otherwordly green, a line of blood dripping from his chin.

“Shit,” Kirishima whispers huskily. “I'm sorry.”

“Why?” Katsuki asks, his lids lowering. He steps deeper into Kirishima's body, pressing them tight together.

Bakugou comes in for another kiss, but he's tense, locked up like Kirishima's hardening is affecting him. His hands are down by his side, and when Kirishima opens his eyes he notices that Bakugou's are slammed shut.

Kirishima pulls back this time.

“Hey,” he says softly, rubbing the pad of his thumb over his jaw. “Have you ever kissed anybody before?”

Katsuki balks, shoving at Kirishima's chest with considerable strength. “Fuck. You. Alright?” He turns his face away and Kirishima notices fondly that there's a slight blush on his cheeks. “I've been confined here for centuries. Anyone who comes out this far is…. Not like you.” He shrugs.

Kirishima grins. “Well, that's good then. You know I'm… that I've never… we can figure it out together!”

“I don't need to figure out shit. I know what I like. I never fucking said I haven't fucked before. I just never want to kiss anyone.”

“Oh.” Kirishima nods. “Then you'll show me what you like?”

“Fucking count on it.” Katsuki says, walking back into the line of Kirishima's body, until their chests bump. He pushes his fingertip down on the point of Kirishima's tooth. “You could really fuck me up with these fangs.”

“I would never--”

Katsuki grabs a handful of hair at the base of Kirishima's neck and jerks. “You fuckin’ better. I am not breakable, Shitty Hair. I want you to wreck me.”

“Fuck,” Kirishima mumbles. “Okay.”

Katsuki gives a sideways glance to the bird. He says something quick, in a language Kirishima doesn't know. He looks up at Kiri. “Wanna go to bed?”

Kirishima looks around the decrepit shack. There is only one other door as far as he can see. And it's propped up against the wall, broken off its hinges.

“Uhhhhh…” Kirishima fumbles for the right words. He doesn't want to insult Katsuki's house or anything, but he's never really imagined his first time in… a place like this.

“Why the fuck do you have that look on your face?”

“Is… uh, is your bed outside or somethin'? And not, trying to ruin the mood or anything, but… I kinda feel like if I touch something in here I'm going to need a tetanus shot. And immortals don't need those.”

“Fucking excuse me? My house is…” he trails off. “Oh.” He quickly dips his fingers in kohl and rubs it under Kirishima's eyes.

And shit. Katsuki had been right. Immediately everything around them turns from horror story to grandeur.

The very walls morph into solid wallpaper. The mold is replaced by curtained windows and intricate crown molding. There are scones decorating the walls.

The squeaky rotted floorboards are gone. Replaced by marble floors with… hell, is that flecks of gold in the stone?

There are several doors now, each made with rich wood. The door knobs are freaking crystal, Kirishima notes with fascination.

“Whaaa?”

“What?” Katsuki shrugs. “Everyone is so quick to believe the Hag lives in a swamp shack. Nobody considers it's a glamour for the real thing.” He backs Kirishima up against his worktable. “I like nice things.” Katsuki’s thumb touches Kirishima's bottom lip. And he seems to make a decision. “Knees.” Katsuki demands, pushing Kirishima down to the floor by his shoulders.

Kirishima drops to his knees, a shiver or hardening somewhat softening the landing. He opens his mouth, licking over his lips when Katsuki pulls his cock out from the confines of his clothes.

It bobs, smacking Kirishima's cheek. It's hot and so fucking warm. The tip is already weeping, leaving a smear of precum on his skin.

Katsuki grabs the thick base in his hand and taps the tip against Kirishima's outstretched tongue. Repeatedly.

“Fuck,” Katsuki groans, looking down at Kiri with heavy eyes. “You like my cock hitting you?”

Kirishima nods, trying to catch the tip with his tongue. He's never ever given a blowjob. Never even thought about it with his teeth and his stomach tightens with nervousness and want.

Blowjobs aren't exactly what Kirishima was expecting. He'd kind of been under the impression that this would be clinical. They would have a fast fuck, he hadn't even considered who would bottom, and then Katsuki would probably shove Kirishima out the door never to be seen again.

But this felt different.

Like… whatever Katsuki had seen in the bones had changed everything.

“Open.” Katsuki says, lacing his fingers through Kirishima's hair.

Kirishima does open, but it's to protest. His teeth…

Katsuki shuts him up quick, filling his mouth instantly. Kirishima's jaw opens until it pops. He tries to tuck his lips over his teeth but it's still terrifying. One wrong move and he could seriously maim the beautiful cock on his mouth.

He maneuvers his tongue to lick at the head, to stop it from really entering his mouth. He sucks just the tip and maybe an inch more before pulling off.

Katsuki tastes so good. So fucking good. And he smells good to. Sweet. Like herbs.

Kirishima is rock hard in his pants. He wants to taste Katsuki's cum. He wants to feel his cock in his throat, but he's way too scared so he just offers fast bobbing of his head.

“Fuck, you're kind of garbage at this.” Katsuki growls, yanking his head back. He's panting though, and his cock is pouring precum onto Kirishima's tongue. “Open your mouth. Wide. Take it all the way down.”

Kirishima tries to pull away. “M-my teeth!”

“Will be fine.” Katsuki interrupts. “Now suck.” He thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deep.

Kirishima tries to take it all. He puts half in his mouth, chokes. It’s so fucking long. Thick. He tries, hell, he's trying to wet it all with his mouth but spit is flying.

Katsuki loosens his hold just enough to allow Kiri to pull back to eye it like he's trying to communicate with the thick shaft to get it to do what he wants.

Kirishima pushes down on the length just as his skin ripples with a wave of hardening. Katsuki chokes out a moan, curling around his head with a strangled scream. His whole body shudders.

The hardening tightens up his throat, squeezing the sides of the cock in his throat.

When Kirishima can pull off, he does, panicked concern in his face. “Didn't like that?” He asks, precum connecting in a line from his lip to the tip.

“Yeah,” Katsuki breathes, threading his fingers in red hair.

“Yeah you like it or yeah you didn't?” Kirishima says with a tilted grin, his bottom lip shiny.

“Yeah,” he breathes again, pulling Kiri forward by his hair to press his cock back inside that gorgeous mouth.

Kirishima's hands push against Katsuki's bare thighs. “Help me,” Kiri reaches up and puts Katsuki's hands on his face. He holds them against his jaw, looking up with long lashes fluttering. “Make me do what you want.”

Katsuki's teeth sink into his lip and he strokes his fingers over Kirishima's hard jaw. “So fucking good for me. The best. But later. I want more than a blowjob right now.” He spreads his legs, lifting up a bare foot and putting it flat on Kirishima's shoulder. “I want you to open me up with your tongue and fingers. I want to be able to sit on your cock within the next five minutes.”

Kirishima swears he's going to pass out. This is the hottest thing he's ever done.

Time passes weirdly.

He remembers digging his hardened fingers into Katsuki's asscheeks, spreading him open so he can devour his hole.

He remembers the blonde whining loudly, rocking into his mouth.

He remembers seeing the flames all around them, but he doesn't remember being burned. He can smell the soot on Katsuki's hands, can feel the heat but it's good so good…

He remembers the sound of Katsuki nails cutting into wood as he screamed, Kirishima's fingers, curling inside him to press deliciously into his prostate.

He remembers Katsuki panting, begging for Kirishima to go faster, fuck, harder… curl them up… yes! Fuuuck, yes, right there.. f-fuck nhg…

And then everything gets fuzzy. Until the exact moment Katsuki has Kirishima sitting on top of the work bench, his pants and shirt tossed to the floor. Katsuki is in his lap, facing him, his tongue in his mouth.

The kissing is much better now. They've both got the hang of it, their tongues dancing together.

The sex is going to be even better.

Katsuki breaks away, with a nip to his lip. “Ready?” Sweat drips down his face, and Kirishima hardens when he feels the soft, wet hole touch the tip of his dick.

He's pretty sure he'll never be ready. His heart stops in his chest.

Actual tears form in his eyes when Katsuki lowers. He wastes no time, his hole squeezing around his tip. He throws his head back, shifting his legs to bare down, working more inside of himself. Kirishima’s falls back, voice coming out embarrassingly high-pitched and his hands fly up to keep Katsuki still. It's too much…

Fuck. He's so tight.

Katsuki ignores the hands on him, and thrusts down, until Kirishima's cock head pops inside. Kirishima's back arches off the table, and a jar falls to the floor.

“H-hell….” Kirishima's voices halts to a stop. Fuck… Katsuki feels so fucking good. “I c-can't,” Kiri whines, his breath hiccuping. “Kat… it's t-too good…. Tight… fuck!”

Kiri jerks his hips back, cum spurting from his cock all over Katsuki's stomach. He groans, his arm covering his face. He drools, mouthing at his skin as his cock gives another spurt.

His cheeks flame. “Shit.” He moans, embarrassed, an apology on his lips.

He just came.

In what had to be four seconds.

“Well,” Katsuki says from above him. “That was fucking stupid.”

Kirishima flinches. Way to mess everything up. Did that even count? Did that last long enough to be considered as payment?

Not to mention, Katsuki was doing him a freaking favor. And Kiri just...came. Maybe he would let him try to blow him again or something? Katsuki had loved his fingers, maybe they could go back to that?

Kirishima feels like shit. He fights against the urge to get his pants and run away. He doesn't even care at this point if he turns to a statue. At least then, he won't feel this shame in his chest. “I… um, I--”

“Why would you pull out?” Katsuki asks, his fingers touching the cooling cum on his stomach. His eyes are hazy and his dick is still hard Kiri notices. His tone isn't angry. Just pouty. “You should have filled me up. Cum makes for damn good lube. And I'm going to need all the help I can get if I'm going to take all of you.” His fingers circle around his cock, not letting any hardness fade. “And I am.” He adds.

Fuck. He's amazing.

Katsu sits back with a devilish smile. He lifts himself up on hands, leaning back to show Kiri his winking hole. “Finger me with your cum. Get me wetter.”

“Yesssss.” Kirishima whispers, so freaking thankful. Katsuki is a God. He's not mad. He wants more.

“And Eijirou?”

“Mhm?”

“Next time,” the witch whispers against his neck, licking over his pulse point. “You better cum inside me.”

Kirishima cheeks heat. Katsuki has a dirty mouth. It's glorious. It's… he wants to hear it always. “Even if I…. Before you again?”

Especially if you come before me. I want your cum dripping down my legs. You will not,” Katsuki demands, yanking Kirishima face to his own. “Stop until that happens. Are we clear?”

Kirishima nods, his hands shaking as he puts them back on Katsuki's hips. “Yes Katsuki.”

“Good. Now hurry up. I wanna feel more of your cock. ‘m empty.” He whines.

Kirishima does what he's told. He scoops up his cum, soaking the tips of his fingers with it so he can feed it to Katsuki's hungry hole. He pushes it in deep, making the witch cry out and beg to be filled with more.

Kirishima doesn't last too long fingering him. He needs to be back inside, desperate to feel Katsuki surrounding his cock again. He makes a mental promise to not cum before every inch of his cock is inside his partner.

Katsuki tilts his hips up for a better glide, keening at Kirishima's hands on his thigh and hip, his grip hard when he pulls Katsuki's ass down to meet his cock, driving into him, the cum making it much easier to split him open.

“Fuck-- Kat--”

Oh Gods. He's already close again. It's not his fault. It's not. Katsuki's ass is milking him, the walls twitching around him, damn near demanding he spill his load inside.

He knows enough to try to bring Katsuki over the edge too, so he reaches down to fist Katsuki's cock, but his hand gets knocked sideways preventing him from stroking that beautiful cock.

“Fuck!” Katsuki moans, rocking his hips up and down over Kirishima's cock. He must know how close he is to losing his fucking mind, because Katsuki doesn't lift his hips up too much. He fucks himself on the same few inches, not taking him all the way down or teasing the tip on the upward thrust. “Ngh… Eiji… you feel so fucking deep inside….”

Kirishima bares his teeth, pulling his feet up for leverage. He grips Katsuki and bounces him, meeting him for every thrust. Saliva drips from the corner of his lips, and he watches with heavy lidded eyes, as the flush on Katsuki's face spreads down his chest.

Katsuki is squirming on his lap, trying to fuck himself faster, crying out every few seconds, yanking at his own hair. His cock is angry and red, and his balls are drawing up for his orgasm.

The sight has Eijirou's eyes rolling back in his head.

“C-cumming!” Eijirou yells, his voice cracking.

Katsuki moans, his hands shaking as he reaches above Eijirou's head. He knocks over a jar of yellow powder. He swipes his hand through it, clenching his teeth to starve off his orgasm. He reaches back down, slapping weakly at the redhead's neck, his shoulder, until finally his hand lays flat on his pec. A perfect handprint.

Katsuki smiles wickedly, muttering in that strange language.

Kirishima's hips stutter and he grips Katsuki's knee, pulling it up higher on the table, spreading him open. His cock twitches, so close to orgasm, leaking pearly cum all over them both.

Kirishima throws his head back, he's… he…

Fuck.

“A-ah! Katsuki!-- what, ah! What, unh… what did you do?”

Kirishima lifts his head just enough to see the handprint on his chest, before he collapses back against the table, weak to Katsuki swallowing down his cock with his perfect ass.

“Let me cum,” he begs, tears falling freely now. “Please. Please let me cum.” He's frantic for it, his hips speeding up. “Let me, let me, let me.”

Katsuki's mouth opens, and he can't stop the saliva that slips down his chin. He looks so fucking good. His face red, his eyes barely open, his lower lip leaking blood from where he's bitten it. “Come on,” he pants. “Make me your bitch. Harder. Fuck me harder.”

Harder? He wants harder?

Kirishima pulls Katsuki down on him, burying his cock so deep inside that he swears he sees a bulge in Katsuki's lower stomach. His balls slap against his full ass cheeks.

He flips them, slamming Katsuki's back down on the table. A few more containers fall to the floor with their shifting, the contents spilling everywhere. Kirishima pushes at his legs, pinning them up above him.

“FUCK,” Katsuki gasps out when Kiri snaps his hips.

Addicted to the sounds coming out Katsuki's mouth, Kiri fucks him hard, clawing at his skin, managing to hit his prostate with every thrust. The blond’s words devolve into small whimpers, his sharp tongue unable to form anything other than moans.

“Fuck… you're making me…” Katsuki leans up, grabbing handfuls of Kirishima's hair. He presses their mouths together, crying out against his lips. “‘m gonna cum. So fuckin’.... hard…”

Their pecs press together, Katsuki's nipples sensitive against the rubbing. Kirishima wraps his hand around Katsuki's throat, his fingers tightening, watching as his lover’s mouth falls open, screaming hoarsely when it becomes too much.

The fire explodes behind them as cum shoots up between their bodies. The salty jets lash against Kirishima's face and because they're pressed so close together Katsuki's too. He trembles in Kirishima's arms as his cock jerks and jerks. His mouth open on a silent scream.

Kirishima doesn't stand a chance as he watches Katsuki lick his cum off his lips, and then lean forward to lick it off Kirishima's face too. The seal burns away on his pec when he feels Katsuki's hot tongue and he immediately pumps his own orgasm into Katsuki. His hips stutter, and he fills Katsuki up so much that it does in fact leak out of his tight hole.

He whips forward, groaning against Katsuki's neck, as his teeth dig into his pale skin in something way too close to a mating bite.

As he comes down from his high, he reluctantly shifts his hips back, whining as his cock slips out of Katsuki soaked hole.

He's transfixed, utterly unraptured by the image of cum, his cum, leaking from the debauched witch.

He wants to see it everyday for the rest of his life.

 

X

 

“Well. Gotta say Kacchan. That was…” The crow pauses, fingers tapping against the shelf in thought. “The single most disturbing scene I have ever witnessed. What happened to taking him to your bedroom. You know I can't leave here. At least at that distance I wouldn't have had to see that mess.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, using magic to bespell a broom to sweep up the mess of clay and ingredients on the floor.

Midoriya was perched on a low shelf, in hybrid form. Hybrid was damn close to human, pale skin with freckles adorned with patches of black feathers on his face and neck. The closer he got to his curse ending, the closer he looked to human in his hybrid form. “My freedom cannot come fast enough. Don't think I didn't see those bones. I know. He's your freakin’ soulmate! I saw!”

Katsuki resists the urge to roll his eyes again. “Yeah. He is. I'm fuckin’ surprised I even have one. But honestly? I see it.” With an evil grin he adds. “He fucks me so good. Fate was definitely not wrong pairing us.”

Deku slaps at his forehead, exasperated. “Soulmates aren't all about fucking, Kacchan. It's about love!” He lowers his voice when the shower turns off in the bathroom, signaling Kirishima would be down soon. “You saved him from his curse. Isn't that crazy? That out of all the witches in the world, he picked you. Your soulmate.” He picks at a feather. “Do you think you'll be able to love him?”

Katsuki turns when he hears the door to the bathroom open. Kirishima exits on a cloud of steam, his red hair wet, lines of water dripping down his body. He grins wide when he sees Katsuki, his cheeks reddening.

Fuck. Katsuki thinks. I already do.