sucking them off → bnha
including; bakugo katsuki • todoroki shoto • midoriya izuku • kirishima eijirou
warnings; deepthroating, cum-eating, petnames, degradation, throat fucking
a/n; i’m happy to be kirishima’s cumdump ♥︎
⤷ oh my god yes. your mouth feels so good taking his cock like the pretty cum slut you are. of course, the more you suck him off the faster he begins rolling his hips into your throat. by the time he’s close to cumming, he uses your mouth like a suction machine, whining loudly while calling you his “little cockslut.” he makes you swallow all of his cum like the “good girl you are.”
⤷ the pretty boy acts all innocent and sweet but although he thought he had self control, he goes feral with your lips sucking him off. he calls out your name endlessly, finishing off all over your face and tits with their satisfied sigh. “i need to treat you for being so well behaved.” patting his thigh because he knows what you want. and of course he’s willing to give it to you. watching you cum so pretty. fuck. he can’t get enough.
⤷ he has a meek personality. big dick though. he nearly falls apart, high pitched whines of “sorry—‘m sorry—~” while he fucks your throat. of course he’s not sorry. he knows you love it. just watching your eyes roll back, drool coating your swollen lips has him cumming almost immediately. you just feel so good, definitely not as good as your pussy walls but almost there. prepare for you to be absolutely ruined by the end of this session.
⤷ you already know the man is packing, he insists that you don’t have to, but the moment your nose bumps against his abdomen, he’s submitting. holding onto whatever he can, eyebrows creased and voice aching with pleasure. repeating the words, “god god god so good y/n~, like that—“ and then he cums thick, gooey ropes of semen all over your face. there will be a round two, believe me.
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Yes pls do write more southerner bakugou my love💞💞💞
I gotchu bebe 💕💕
Growing up, you had so many things to be thankful for. Your Mama was a beauty pageant winner since she was small n really knew how to make chicken pot pie. Your Pa was always the envy of town, his prized fruits n veggies making the local newspapers and impressing big businesses.
You had your own pony, your garden, even a little cottage your dad made for you that your 8 year old self loved with all her heart.
The thing on that farm you're most thankful for, however, is your Pa's best farmhand, Katsuki. All 6 foot 4 of pure muscle, big n bulky n so mean but never to you. He handled your pony with such care, tended to your garden like a forest nymph and never let his eyes stray downwards, even when you tried your hardest to catch his eyes lingering.
When you would tilt up onto your tip toes and he'd flush and bend to your level, your noses touching gently n his breath fanning softly against your cheeks, you'd marvel at how pretty he is.
Freckles dusting along his nose, pretty scarlet eyes sparkling with adoration and a darkness that devours his pupils whole when you press a wet kiss to his plump bottom lip, pulling with your teeth and earning yourself a breathy groan.
Not even seconds later you find yourself pressed against the nearest oak tree, hands pushing up the battered white tee he adorns and raking across plush abs. Your skirt is hiked up and his beefy fingers are shoved inside you, pressing soft shapes into that spot as he moves his tongue against yours.
His harsh pants n moans are muffled by your plush glossy lips, and when he pulls back to whisper your name against your pout, his own are coated in shine.
"Mm, I got you all messy K-Katsu'."
He breaths out against you, fingers curling and twisting inside your sweetest parts.
"I'm alright with bein' messy if it's from you, Miss."
You let out an airy moan mixed in with a giggle, hands coming from shoulders to cup his face and force his pretty eyes onto yours.
"I've told you b-before to drop the formalities."
He swirls a thumb on your clit, drawing a choked sound from you and watching your body curl in on itself.
"M'sorry Darlin', ts'hard to keep my head straight with a pretty thing like you around."
You can't reply, eyes knocked into the back of your head as he rocks his fingers right into that spot, playing with your clit while being mesmerized with the stickiness.
"Ya think m' pretty Suki-ii?"
He smiles n kisses you, bringing you to an orgasm that has your toes curling and back arching against him, whimpers spilling into his open mouth.
"You're the prettiest, Sweetheart."
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THIRST TRAPS | my hero academia
obey me | obey me ii | haikyuu | haikyuu ii | jujutsu kaisen
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prince bakugou x f!reader
MINORS DNI | 18+ ONLY | AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT
summary - Prince Bakugou was just following orders when he burned your village to the ground. But with a fragile court, drought and famine on the horizon, the Queen’s declining mental state, and an adversarial church, one headstrong captive peasant girl should be the least of his worries. Key word being should. You find yourself in an extremely precarious political situation, forced to rely on your pitiably handsome captor to survive.
a/n - game of thrones style au with medieval and magical elements. reader has brown eyes but otherwise is physically ambiguous, sorry i needed to give her a physical feature for plot reasons. I have been working on this wip for like four months, it’s something I’m excited to share with y’all and I’ll be posting the first part of it on Friday at 7PM EST. Check out the excerpt below and if you’re excited, let me know! I’m feeling vulnerable about this one lol. I’ll drop little sneak peeks all week ;)
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As the sun begins to sink below the horizon you come to a huge stone wall, the largest man made structure you’ve ever seen. It’s comprised of a grey stone that glitters in the fading light, and it’s as tall as the chapel in your village stacked over itself three times. The drawbridge extends with a loud groan, slamming into the dry earth. The horses thunder over it, their hooves loud on the hollow wood. You hide your face as best you can, trying not to think of your family, if they’d escaped, if they were alive, focusing only on your immediate surroundings. From where you’re perched on the back of his horse Bakugou can feel the contours of your face pressing against his back though his leather armor as a cheer erupts from the city at his return. You keep your eyes screwed shut, unsure of what kind of people would applaud for such bloodshed, but not wanting to give them the satisfaction of your gaze. He keeps one hand on the reins, but you feel his right hand close over yours, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across your tight fists. You don’t open your eyes until you hear the crowd quiet, as you move into another part of the city.
When you finally look around, you’re in a stable, other men getting off their horses and handing them to squires. You feel your wrists being freed, and the Prince roughly pulls you off the saddle and onto your feet. A few squires run over, taking the reins of his horse and leading it away. Two of the men stride over, chests puffed out. One of them reaches for you, running his wet pink tongue over his lower lip.
“Shall we attend to the prisoner, your grace?” Bakugou catches the lascivious spark in their eye, but his decision is made final when you cower a little, flattening your back against his chest.
“I’ve got her.” Bakugou says plainly. “I’m keeping this one.” The two men exchange a quick glance.
“We could see to her gettin’ cleaned up?” The other one says. You avoid his watery blue gaze, studying their dirty boots. He takes your arm and attempts to draw you away from the Prince, who yanks you back and snarls,
“Are you fuckin’ touchin’ what I’ve said is mine?” They blanch, and immediately both men are flapping their hands in apology, and backing away.
“No, no sire, of course not we would never-”
“Then fuck off.” The prince snaps, rolling his eyes as he turns to face the other knights, who are gathering behind him. The redhead, Kirishima, speaks first.
“That’s a good call.” He says quietly, glancing at the soldiers who are now rushing to put Bakugou’s horse away, and then he looks down at you. “So,” he shoots you a weary smile, rubbing the little scratch on his neck from your handiwork. “Do I get to know the name of the girl who held me at knifepoint?”
“No.” You don’t even look at him, eyes on your warped reflection in his breastplate. Unlike the Prince, the rest of the knights were in full metal armor. Kirishima’s eyes widen with incredulity.
“She’s fucking wild!” Kirishima turns to Prince Bakugou, “What the hell are you going to do with a woman who won’t even tell you her name?”
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BNHA + Kinks (pt. 1)
CHARACTERS: Kaminari Denki, Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, Sero Hanta
A/N: THIS IS NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW is under the cut.
WARNINGS: this is all about kinks, idk what else you expected (tagged as “tw kinks” and “tw kink mention” bc i’m limited to 30 tags)
daddy kink that started as a joke
electrostimulation (aka shocking his partner(s))
cucking (receiving aka being cucked)
masochist (slap him in the face😩)
temperature play (duh)
also a switch
brat AND brat-tamer (i will actually argue with anyone who tries to tell me otherwise)
cucking (giving aka cucking others)
lowkey a sadist
switch (either a soft!dom <- more likely, or a service sub)
actually just has a daddy kink
ass play (giving + receiving)
breathplay / choking (giving + receiving)
© softmitsuya 2021
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“Calendar of the Year”
Bakugo x Reader
A.N.: This was totally unplanned. Had this idea this morning and kept writing and now we’re here.
Warnings: Biting, licking, spitting, fingering, Bakugo refers to himself as daddy bc duh, bit of a size kink
Struggling to catch your breath, you recover from your doubled over hunch, blips of giggles still escaping your lips.
“Think you’re funny, L/N?” Bakugo stands before you donning a sexy Santa suit, complete with red silk pajama pants hanging low on his hips and a matching silk hat. Puffball at the tip included. Judging from his scowl, he doesn’t find this anywhere near as amusing as you.
“Oh I know I’m funny, Bakugo but this,” you inflect, pointing and wiggling a finger at him, “this is hilarious.” You really don’t mind the view, truth be told. It’s just how his scowl contradicts and clashes with the softness of his “Santa” suit.
Glowering at you, his eyes drill into yours, “I know this is your fault, L/N. Why the hell anyone thought this was a good idea-“
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll try to get my shit together and not have the best day ever at your expense. But, this calendar is a good idea! When we “leaked” those teasers of Red Riot and Chargebolt for February and April, people went fucking crazy, especially one of your bigger target audiences. And when we told them there would be group photos for certain months with Dynamight? Pre-orders went through the roof. Way more than even we projected.”
Rolling his eyes he concedes, “Fine, fine. Whatever. Just stop fuckin’ laughin’ at me.”
“Deal. The only two you have left to do are February and October and the costume choice is up to you for both. They want the latter first so, you can either do a chill autumn vibe or you can be a sexy vampire…whatever the fuck that means. Vampires are already sexy, so?” You scoff and hold out a flannel shirt with jeans in one hand and a vampire costume in the other.
Bakugo snorts out a laugh, “Knew you were a freak, L/N,” he smirks, taking the flannel shirt from you and walking to his dressing room.
‘Please let this day be over already I cannot fucking afford this desire to fuck my boss.’
Your cheeks immediately bloom bright red when he emerges. The dark grey beanie rests comfortably over his ever unruly hair letting the design carved into his undercut peak out. The red, grey, and black flannel shirt remains unbuttoned allowing a clear view of his chest and abs leading down to the v cut dipping behind the dark wash denim jeans resting on his hips. The dark grey boots their costume designers gave him make his steps somewhat clunkier like his work boots as he strides toward you, rolling the long sleeves of his shirt to his elbows.
Stopping just a step away, Bakugo leans down toward you and whispers, “Enjoyin’ the view, L/N?”
The husky growl of his voice brings you out of your trance, mouth snapping shut, you recover, “What? Psh no, as if. I was just…I just like that beanie and was wondering where I could get one.”
“Mmhhmmm,” Bakugo smirks and takes a step back, his eyes still boring into you as you look everywhere but at him. Huffing, he walks onto the set.
Twenty minutes later he strides past you, slipping the shirt off his arms and calling over his shoulder, “You better start gettin’ ready, Princess.”
You look around for who the hell he’s talking to because there is no way you’re participating in this. Especially not the next set. There’s no way that will end well for you. Opening your mouth to voice your dismissal, your arm is grabbed and you’re tugged into a different dressing room. Pushing you down into the chair, the stylist comes up behind you and starts teasing, curling, and spraying. The makeup artist sets to work as well when an assistant comes in holding two different sets of very revealing orange and black Dynamight brand lingerie.
“Okay there must be a mistake. I’m just overseeing this to make sure he participates, I’m not actually supposed to be in any of them and there’s no way I’m wearing either of those.”
“Sorry, miss. Mr. Dynamight said the only way he would do the next one was with you.”
Because of course he did.
You should’ve expected this. You had spent half the day laughing at his expense and he stayed uncharacteristically calm about it. You should have known he had something planned to get you back and it looks like it’s time to reap what you’ve sown.
Taking a tentative step onto the set, you see Bakugo in a very small and just as tight pair of compression shorts that left nothing to the imagination and a red silk robe that laid open once again exposing his chest and abs. The click of your bright red heels catches his attention and his eyes snap to you and darken with lust.
You snicker, throwing his previous taunt back at him, “Now who’s enjoying the view, hmm?”
Clicking his tongue in dismissal, Bakugo raises a hand to beckon you forward. Grabbing your wrist when you get close enough, he pulls you toward him and wraps his right hand around the back of your left thigh and situates you to straddle him. Surprised at his boldness, which in hindsight you shouldn’t have been shocked by, your hands fly to his shoulders to support yourself. Which conveniently left your lips a mere inch away from his own. His eyes search yours when you both realize neither of you pulled away from any of the contact thus far.
Clearing your throat, you look at the photographer and ask what he wants you to do.
“Oh yeah, okay I love the shade of lipstick you have on and it would look amazing against his skin. So if you could leave a lip print against his cheek, one on the side of his neck, and a little smeared against his lips, that would be perfect.”
Your eyes widen when you realize you’re actually going to have to kiss the Dynamight and all he offers you is a chuckle. He’s fucking chuckling at you.
“What’s wrong? Not finding it so funny anymore, Y/N?” Bakugo smirks, thinking there was no way you’d actually go through with it at this rate.
This mother fu-
Taking advantage of the brief soar in confidence, you lean forward and plant a kiss on his cheek before pulling back to observe his reaction. Bakugo stares back at you, surprise clear on his features with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. Pleased, you smirk at him before dipping your head to the side of his neck, leaving a kiss behind as you ghost your lips up to his jaw, leaving another before pressing against his lips. Bakugo wastes no time as he regains his composure. One hand grips your hip, pulling to fully seat you onto his lap while the other slides up your back to tangle into your hair, deepening the kiss. Pleased with your slight whimper, he rolls his hips into yours just enough for you to feel his straining length growing against you. Growling when he feels your arousal soaking through not only your panties but also the shorts he’s wearing, he brushes his tongue across your bottom lip—
“Ahem…right, so we have everything we need. You’re both free to go get changed…” The photographer trailed off, looking between the two of you.
Bakugo squeezed your hip before helping you up, his gaze lingering on your chest before dragging up to meet yours. You turn away and try to keep yourself from sprinting back to the dressing room, softly closing the door, you reach behind you to unclip the bra and let it fall to the floor. Spinning around when the door bursts open and slams shut just as quickly, you see Bakugo clad in only the compression shorts, engaging the lock. His eyes greedily rake over your figure as he raises a hand like he did on set, silently beckoning you forward. Your legs tremble but move toward him, his carmine eyes darting across your figure makes your body flush with desire. As soon as you’re within reach, his hands reach to cup the back of your thighs, picking you up and spinning, pressing your back against the door and grinning when your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. Slotting his mouth against yours, his tongue immediately darts out, licking along the seam of your lips until you part them sliding your tongue against his. He groans into your mouth when he again feels your arousal soaking through your panties and ruts his solid length against your core. Traveling down your neck, leaving a trail of blooming reds and purples, he bites the juncture of your shoulder and throat when you whimper at his finger that starts rubbing small circles around your clit. He pulls away to watch your face contort in pleasure when he pushes two fingers into you, slowly, teasingly stroking the bundle of nerves against your walls.
“So wet f’me, baby. Think you’re ready to take me?”
“Fuck, yes, Bakugo…please…”
“Such a needy little thing…don’t worry, Princess, Daddy’ll take care of ya.”
You shiver at the husky tone in his voice as his breath fans across your cheek. Feeling the bulbous tip of his dick pressing against your entrance, your eyes widen and look to his. Bakugo smirks when he registers the surprised and slightly wary expression on your face.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it fit,” he says before he starts bullying his cock into you, burying himself in your warmth. You let out a salacious moan that’s cut off by Bakugo’s hand slapping over your mouth.
“Gotta be quiet, Princess. Unless you want everyone to know you’re pussy is gettin filled.”
A dark chuckle rumbles through his chest when he feels you tighten around him. You whine behind his hand at the delicious burn the stretch to accommodate his impressive member makes. Bakugo’s hands knead the soft flesh of your ass as he lifts you, leaving only the tip inserted, and slams you back down, taking him all the way to his base. Your hands grip his shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin leaving little crescent marks as you mewl. The tip of his cock nudges your cervix with every thrust and you can feel every vein that decorates his shaft as it drags against your walls, having no trouble finding every bundle of nerves that’ll send you over the edge. His breathing switches to heavy pants and he moves the hand on your mouth between you while letting a string of spit land on your clit before pressing his thumb against it. His lips find yours, teeth and tongue clashing in desperation and passion.
“Cum, Y/N. Cum with me, baby, c’mon,” he mumbles against your lips before capturing them once more in a searing, breath stealing kiss. Your back arches as you cum, your moans muffled by Bakugo’s tongue. Your walls fluttering wildly around his length sends him into his own orgasm, grunting when your cunt greedily milks his cock for every drop.
He presses his forehead to yours while you both struggle to catch your breath, pulling back to place small kisses across your face. When you both finally fully descend from your highs, he gently sets you on your feet and cups your cheeks, making you meet his intense gaze. Leaning down, he kisses you again, less urgent this time but not lacking in passion.
“So much for doing this the right way,” he shook his head and chuckled.
“What do you mean, Bakugo?”
“First of all, we just fucked, call me Katsuki. Second, let me take you to dinner.”
“Oh…um…okay, Katsuki. Like, now?”
“Yeah Princess, get dressed. I’ll meet you out there,” he nods to the door.
Leaning forward next to your ear, he licks along the shell of it before whispering, “You should consider wearing the other set. I’d like to see that one tonight too.”
@fatbitchgeek-blog @sunflowers-rae @whatever-the-fuck-i-dont-care @katsukisdynamite @totally-not-bakus-hoe @jems-all-in-a-wood
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BAKUGO X READER
tw / cw - dacraphiliya , manhandling , deepthroating , just bakugo being a little bitch yknow ?
you never truly understood the reason you cried so much or why your boyfriend , bakugo katsuki , found it so hot . seeing your pretty orbs of wet salty tears flow down your cheek whenever yiu guys got in a fight .
he loved teasing you about it , and today was a day for teasing
' baby girl , whats wrong ? cant take my fat cock down your throat ? Hm ~ is it to big for you ? ' and all you could do was nod as he slammed his cock to the back of your throat , moans filled the room as hemis balls slapped at your chin ,
whipping his cock out of your mouth , he started jerking it off , saying you didnt deserve his god like cum in your mouth , that you werent worthy .
' k - katsu - please , i wanna , wanna swallow it '
and all he would do is shake his head as he painted your face white .
' you wanna swallow something ? huh ? you fucking slut , open up '
as you did what he said , he spit in your mouth , forcing your mouth closed afterwords
The tears kept falling as some dripped down onto your lips , swallowing the spit he had so graciously put in your mouth
' thank you , sir '
he pointed to the bed , nodding at you
' get up there , ass up , face down '
' aw ? whats wrong ? i made you cry ? ~ pfft , sucks to suck , whore '
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Call Me Daddy
Pairing: Dilf!Katsuki x Reader
Warnings: daddy kink, breeding, age gap, authority/power dynamics, praise with a dash of degradation, rough sex, mention of bruising, claiming, belly bulge, size difference, creampie
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: Well. I don’t know what to say. I have been literally so god damn horny with thoughts of Dilf Bakugou today, so I said fuck it, let’s be bred.
Special thanks to @whats-her-quirk for helping me brainstorm and thirst today, and to @mindninjax and @lookslikeleese for reading over it all and giving me the love and validation to know I did Katsuki right 💕
It’s a sweet surprise for Katsuki to find you sleeping on the couch when he returns home. An exhausting night of hero work has left him drained, sans for the adrenaline still snaking through his veins. The sight of you makes his heart hammer in the confines of his chest, his cock twitch against the spandex of his hero suit.
You’re not supposed to be here.
You should’ve been gone hours ago, should’ve taken your cute little sundresses in your overnight bag onto the train after his ex-wife came to collect the rowdy kids he pays you to watch over. Instead, you’ve rolled onto your stomach, throw pillow clutched underneath your face, hem of your dress hiked to where he can see the curve of your ass, the fat of your thighs.
The news is rolling on the flatscreen, accounts of his heroic deeds flashing across the pixels. Your dewy skin catches the colors, blues and yellows dancing across your shoulder blades and sinking between your spread legs.
Katsuki’s hands are itching to touch you. The spaces between his fingers feel empty, eager to touch soft skin and the cotton of your panties.
He debates waking you with a hand between your thighs.
You’ve tempted him long enough, spent nearly a year holding his babies in your arms and running around in your shirt and stupid little thongs in the morning to get them fed and dressed. You’re practically a live-in nanny, he might as well reward you with something special for all your overtime.
He removes his gauntlets and mask by the door before crouching down in front of your sleeping form. The way your lashes curl against your cheeks, how glossy and plump your lips are, how smooth your skin is—it all reminds him how fucking old he is. Grey peppers his temples, crows feet kiss his eyes, he’s got scars lining thick muscles.
How young you are just makes you more appetizing. He could teach you a few things, if you let him.
Katsuki holds his fingers next to your ear, grinning as he sets off the tiniest spark of an explosion in his palm that makes you jerk awake and look at him like bright-eyed prey.
“Havin’ sweet dreams after watching me on the TV, kiddo?”
You’re so startled that your tits are heaving, a strap of your dress hanging limp down your arm.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, sir, god it must be late, I—”
“Save it, it’s fine. And cut it out with that sir shit, you know I don’t like it.” Because it makes him feel old, reminds him that he pays you and has some weird authority over you. The authority part he doesn’t mind, even makes him a bit hard because he’s always loved having a dash of power, but the old part grinds at his ego.
“I was scared when I saw you fighting that villain not too far away. I got worried and started watching the news and I guess I fell asleep.”
“Scared?” he shifts his weight forward on his toes, arm reaching to latch onto the back of the couch, “sweetheart, you’re in my house, ain’t nobody gonna be hurting you here.”
Epinephrine is rushing through his body still, making his ears pound and crimson eyes pool with lust. He’s got you all alone, all to himself, no crying babies calling for your attention.
“It’s past your bedtime, anyway, kid.” But he doesn’t move to let you stand, instead he creeps forward, hand on the couch moving to toy with the strap dangling on your arm.
Delicate as you are, you don’t back away from his advances.
“I’m too old to have a bedtime. Besides, you’re not my daddy.”
“Is that right?”
Katsuki chuckles as he cocks his head, making a show of looking you up and down, gaze lingering on your chest, taking notice of how your thighs are clenched together. You smell sweet, young, like fresh roses in rain and whatever girly shampoo you use. Your nails are pricking into the pillow, anxious, waiting.
He’s played with you a few times before: trapped you between him and the kitchen counter just so he could feel your breasts squished against his chest, touched your knee one too many times whenever he sits next to you, hell, he once even grabbed the entirety of your perfect ass as an excuse to help lift you off your toes to reach a book on one of the kid’s shelves. You’ve never pushed him away, only gotten a little flustered and batted your lashes.
You want him. He can practically smell that, too.
“Well, daddy has had a long, hard day. And he thinks it’s time for bed.”
There’s a retort bubbling in your throat, he knows, but he doesn’t care.
He takes the plunge, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up and over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing. And you do, to him. He’s stronger than you could ever imagine.
The way you squeak a quick “Katsuki!” as he marches toward the stairs makes his pants too tight around his thighs. Your dress bunches around your hips and he’s quick to capitalize, large palm cupping the meat of your ass as he follows the well-worn steps to his room. He doesn’t even consider the guest room. No, he wants you in his bed, where you belong, where you’re going to stay.
“This is what you’ve wanted, yeah? Always bein’ such a good girl and tryin’ to get my attention,” he doesn’t even bother to shut the door, just drops you and lets you bounce on his sheets.
“I think this is what you’ve wanted,” you sit up on your knees and reach for him, tugging him closer by the orange straps on his chest, “always teasing me, touching me.”
He likes the way you giggle, how your small hands pull apart his costume piece by piece. He likes how your nails scrape against his chest when you peel the black fabric away from it.
The scars, pink and marred and arching into the sparse blonde hairs across his pectorals, his biceps, he wonders if they bother you. You seem to pay them no mind, too eager to pry at the green leather of his belt.
Age has taught him to be more patient, but he’s too hungry for you to take your time undressing him.
“Oi, quit it,” he brushes your hands away, following the routine he’s memorized of removing all the clunky bits and pieces of his costume.
You watch him intently, like you’ve wondered what all it takes to get him out of his gear.
“Don’t just sit there and stare, take that fucking dress off.”
By the time your flimsy little piece of clothing hits the floor, he’s naked.
Katsuki crawls over you without a second thought, capturing your jaw between thick fingers so he can kiss you like he wants. You’re so receptive that it makes him groan, lips and legs parting like the fucking sea. He always knew you were submissive, breedable.
You match his pace, meld your mouth against his and arch your back, whiny and greedy like a little cat in heat.
“Oh yeah,” he growls as he rolls his hips between your legs, hard cock nestling against your wet panties, “Daddy’s gonna fuck you so good tonight, sweeheart. Pound a baby right into your perfect little cunt.”
“Oh god, please, that’s all I want.”
One of your legs loops around his side, fingers sinking into his hair and urging him to kiss you again. And again. And again. He loves the way you taste, how your tongue twists around his and your mouth slants just right. Perhaps you’re more experienced than he thought, but he still knows the steps to this dance better than you.
“What a little slut,” he drags his lips down your jaw, finds where your pulse is humming in your neck and sucks, “daydreaming about being bred n’ drippin with cum.”
He likes the way you react to the sound of his voice, tits pressing against his chest and whimpers filling your mouth. Katsuki spends his time with the delicate arch of your throat, drinking in your skin and sucking until blood wells just below the surface. He’s going to mark you, claim you. He’s thought about it so many times, how you’d look so fucking pretty with handprints on your ass, hickies on your neck, wearing them with pride around the house because you’re his.
Your nipples are already puffy, sensitive from dragging along the plush muscles of his chest. He sucks the fat of your breast between his teeth, eyes flashing up to watch your face as he does. Bliss tinges your cheeks, has your lips, wet with his spit, parted and moaning. God you look sexier than he imagined.
And he has imagined this, too many times to count. Fucked his cock into his hand at night thinking of your thighs, thinking of what your tits look like beyond the thin layers of clothes you wear. He’s thought about you whispering daddy please over and over again as he takes anything and everything he wants from you.
“Gonna fill these up with milk,” he soothes your nipple with his tongue, hot and flat. He cups your tit, kneads into the flesh, rough and greedy and it makes you sing. Your panties soak as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He rolls his hips, your slick smearing against his cock, even coating his balls.
Spit clings between your tit and his mouth as he dives for the other, lavishing it in the same attention as the other.
“Oh, daddy, fuck, fuck!”
If he wasn’t so keen on showing off his experience, he’d push you down and fuck into your tight hole this very moment. But he keeps his composure, despite the fact that pre is dribbling down his cock.
“Atta girl, calling for your daddy. Now let’s see how fast I can make you cum.”
The threads of your panties splinter so easily, just a flick of his wrist and they’re ruined. Not like you hadn’t already soiled them.
Katsuki settles between your thighs, grinning so hard it hurts as he spreads the folds of your pussy with his thumbs.
“Can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ this pretty pussy from me.”
He could stare at you all night, watch the way your muscles clench and your slick pours from your tight little hole. Hishole.
You mewl as he runs a knuckle between your folds, uncurling his index finger to toy with your aching clit.
“S-sorry, sir, I—!” He shoves two thick fingers into you, having to bite the inside of his mouth at how fucking hot and tight you are around him.
“I said fucking cut it out,” he plunges his fingers in and out to make a point, “with the sir shit.”
The way you whine makes his cock thump against his lower stomach, all high-pitched and blissed out. Your hips grind down against his hand, one of your hands flying into his hair for stability while the other clutches his pillow. You’re babbling a string of sorry daddy, I’ll be good, promise, promise, and he can’t help but swirl his thumb over your clit and watch how your thighs shake.
Oh he’s going to fucking wreck you.
He doesn’t even have to put his mouth on you to make you cum. Normally that’s his trump card; quick kitten licks over your clit while he curls his fingers just right. But you’re wound tight, so tight he can feel all your walls clenching with every push of his fingers. He’s thrusting hard, fast, purposely pressing against a spongey, ridged spot deep inside of you that has you moaning like a whore. And his thumb is relentless, like clockwork against your clit in perfect tight circles that has you lit like a flame.
Your legs clamp around his wrist as you scream, tummy spasming over and over as ecstasy crawls over every nerve.
You look so pretty when you cum, eyes squeezed shut and your tits heaved to the sky. It’s like he can see the heat traveling over your body, feel the waves crashing over you.
He can’t wait to make you do that again. And again. And again. He’ll make a mess of you, tonight and any night he wants.
“That all it takes?” He chuckles, keeping his fingers lodged inside of you as you come down from the high. You blink a few times and catch your breath, smiling like an idiot.
“You’re good at that,” you muse.
“Of course I fucking am. I’m twice your age, sweetheart. I’ve fingered more girls than you’ve had orgasms.”
You sit up on your elbows and watch him with glassy eyes as he sucks the juices from his fingers.
“Oh I don’t know about that, daddy,” you’re up and moving quicker than he expected, hands on his shoulders as you push him back, straddling him, “I’ve made myself cum so many times thinking about you.”
A hot flash twists through his chest at your admission. The thought of you playing with those pretty tits and burying your fingers into your cunt with his name on your tongue makes his lips part. He grips your hips meanly, strong fingers gripping hard enough to bruise as he pulls you down and drags your messy cunt along the length of his cock.
“Yeah? And what’s a young thing like you doin’ thinkin’ about an old man like me?”
You lean over him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck to mimic what he did to you earlier, kissing and sucking at his skin until he groans. Your nails sink into his musculature, dig into his obliques, skim over his abs. He’s not as cut as he once was, but he’s stronger than he’s ever been, spent years sculpting himself into a powerhouse.
And now he’s moaning beneath a little girl, hips rolling just to get another kiss from your cunt.
Your face comes to hover over his, darling eyes taking in the lines of his face. Your hips rise and he bites back a groan at the loss of contact, only to feel your hand grasping at his cock and lining him up with your entrance.
“I think about having blonde babies,” you start sinking down on him and he has to hold himself back from crushing your hips, “think ‘bout being your little whore, your fucktoy you keep locked away in—”
He slams his mouth against your to shut you up, mind already fucking dizzy just from feeling your pussy slowly suck him in.
The moans you release into his mouth drive him wild, make him arch his hips off the bed and spear his cock into your depths.
That makes you fucking scream.
Your palms slam into his chest as you sit up on his cock, sinking down more as he fucks up into you. Head falling back, you keep moaning from your chest, vibrations tingling over his skin. He can tell you want to match his rhythm, but he won’t let you. He keeps his grip tight on your hips, bucking up into you and fucking you just how he wants.
“You love daddy’s cock, don’t cha? Take it like a fuckin’ champ, too.”
And he means it, he can’t keep his eyes off where your sweet flesh takes him in, a ring of cream already pooling at his base and dripping down his balls. He’s mesmerized by the scene of young, pliant flesh sucking him in. Your lower tummy is bulging from his girth, head of his cock visible with every fresh plunge.
“Gonna fuckin breed you, sweetheart. Pump you full of seed and watch you swell with a baby.”
Nails dig into his chest enough to hurt, making him groan. All you do is nod your head in response, too busy trying to keep your breath while he fucks you at a maddening pace. A triumphant, hearty laughs claws out of his chest, so damn pleased with himself to be fucking such a pretty thing.
A tumble of curses rains down from your mouth, smothered by the sounds of his balls barreling against your ass. You’re getting tight again, your clit being pounded by a thatch of golden curls and fit muscles with every thrust he gives you.
“Yeah you like this? Like gettin’ fucked dumb?”
“Ah-ah, yes, yes daddy, yes!”
Music to his fucking ears.
Katsuki needs more leverage, wants even more control. He keeps himself rooted inside of you as he rolls you onto your back, never missing a beat with his thrusts as he changes positions. He sits back on his knees and pushes your legs back, strong hands folding you practically in half so he can watch himself slide in and out, in and out. That bulge in your belly is even more prominent when you’re on your back.
“So fucking good, sweetheart,” he can feel sweat beading down his back, a familiar sweet scent like candy filling the room, “you want babies? My babies? You better start fuckin’ beggin’.”
He loves the way your back arches at his words, tits bouncing and cunt clenching.
A calloused hand snatches your jaw, pulls your face to look at him while he fucks you. Tears are pooling in the corners of your eyes, overwhelming pleasure taking its toll all over your supple body.
“D-daddy please,” your eyes roll a bit as he fucks into you deeper, his hand pulling your hips down so he can grind into you.
“Louder, want the fuckin’ walls to remember what you say,” he digs his fingers into your warm cheeks to cement his point.
“Fuck, daddy, please! Want your cum so bad, want you to make me a mommy!”
Even his balls tighten at your words. Thoughts of making you a fucking mommy, watching you ripen with his child overtake every space in his brain. Your little body is so willing, practically begging for it with the way you’re creaming around him.
Katsuki’s instincts go into overdrive, both hands grasping at your hips and pulling you down with every snap of his hips. He doesn’t even care that sweat is dripping from his brow, that blooms of bruises are welling up underneath hands that look too worn to be on your skin, all he cares about is forcing every ounce of cum from his balls into your cunt.
“Such a good little slut for daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make you mommy, give you babies that look like me.”
He’s racing up that euphoric mountain, can feel it heavy in his shoulders, in his stomach. Your pussy is twitching, squelching, pleading for another release. His thumb takes residency on your clit again, pressing far too hard than he should, but he needs to feel you come undone around him. He deserves it.
The moment you cum again, he loses his goddamn mind. Immediately he has to take his hands off you, his quirk unleashing in his palms as he spurts hot cum into your depths. He’s seeing stars, colors, orgasm shattering over him like an earthquake under the ocean.
He can’t remember the last time he came so hard. His chest aches, heart pounding as he gasps out your name in the last seconds of his release. But you’re not done, your hands have taken hold of his forearms as you keep your pussy sheathed over him, legs closing in around him as you cry out from the devastating euphoria cracking over your senses.
His knees ache by the time you’ve both fallen from your highs.
It almost hurts to pull out of you, cock still raging with blood. Your whimper when he leaves your cunt, like you’ve lost something.
“You alright, sweetheart? Didn’t break you?”
You nod numbly, a too-pleased smile etched into your cheeks.
He’s been around the block enough times to know that your hormones are racing, that it’ll take far more time for you to come back to earth than him. He flops onto his back and throws his arm over his forehead, groaning when he feels you wind yourself around him, tucking one of his thighs between your legs.
Cum drips onto the downy hairs of his leg and he couldn’t be more satisfied.
“Meant what I said, kid.”
You hum and raise your head to look at him, chin tucking onto his chest.
“I’ll give you any fucking babies you want.”
Your laugh actually makes him feel warm, like it’s a sound he’ll never get tired of hearing.
“We have time, Katsuki. Besides, you already have two that I need to take care of.”
His fingers trace circles onto your back before he pulls you in even closer.
“Nah, I’ll hire a new nanny. You have new fucking job.”
6K notes · View notes
A Favour | Bakugou Katsuki
Pairing: Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki x Sidekick f!Reader
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, all characters are aged up, porn with feeling, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, pretty vanilla tbh
Word Count: 5.6k
Summary: To avoid being pestered by his mother about his practically non-existent love life, Bakugou asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a weekend trip to his parents’. But what happens when you both harbour long buried feelings for each other?
a/n: Written for @kenzumekodma‘s AUdvent Collab. I chose two of my favourite cliche tropes: Fake Dating + Only One Bed.
Also a big big thank you to @kingkatsuki & @crytalstellar for being my betas, and @super-predictable98 for being my constant cheerleader!
Bakugou Katsuki was screwed. He knew he shouldn’t have answered that phone call from his mother.
Now he sat at his desk, fuming, desperately trying to come up with a solution to the trap he’d just gotten himself into.
“Katsuki, you haven’t come to visit in forever! I know you’re busy saving the world and everything, but surely you can take one weekend off to see your ailing parents, you ungrateful cur!”
“Ailing, my ass,” he’d grumbled, before reluctantly agreeing — it wasn’t like he didn’t have enough sidekicks to keep the place running in his absence for a couple days.
“Perfect! Oh, and I was thinking about inviting someone for you to meet while you’re here. She’s just the loveliest girl, I think you’ll like her.”
Not another set up!
Bakugou growled. He’d lost count of how many women his mother had tried to match him up with in the past year and all of them were insufferable. Without thinking he’d blurted out the first thing that’d sprang to his lips, instantly regretting it as soon as he’d realized he’d only traded one problem for another.
“I’m already seeing someone!”
“Really? I almost can’t believe it! Why don’t you bring her with you then, we’d love to meet her!”
Shit, shit, shit.
Bakugou groaned as he banged his head against his desk in frustration. He knew any excuse as to why his ‘girlfriend’ couldn’t make it would only confirm his mother’s suspicions and he’d be stuck enduring her never ending parade of suitable partners, which was the last thing he wanted. He had to find someone to pretend to be his girlfriend, at least for the weekend, and fast.
“That can’t be good for the desk.”
Your amused voice on the other side of his office jerked Bakugou from his dilemma and he quickly straightened, his stomach giving a flutter at your wry grin.
“What d’you want?” he demanded, though his words held no heat, sounding more weary than anything and you frowned, setting down the stack of paperwork in your arms.
“You okay, Kaachan?”
“No,” he grumbled, suddenly eyeing you thoughtfully. If anyone would agree to help him out, it’d be you. After all, you’d been good friends since high school — the fact that he’d also harboured feelings for you since then had nothing to do with it.
What’s the worst that could happen? He thought, deciding to take the gamble.
“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked abruptly, the question taking you aback.
Was he asking you out? Quickly pushing the thought from your mind and ignoring the way it made your stomach flip hopefully, you told yourself he probably just wanted you to pick up an extra shift or something.
“Uhm, nothing,” you shrugged. “I don’t really have any plans. Why?”
At your answer, relief flickered across Bakugou’s face before he quickly schooled his expression. “I need… a favour,” he ground out reluctantly, and you frowned. It wasn’t like Dynamight to ask his sidekicks for favours. Though, if he were asking as a friend…
“What sort of favour?” you asked, fidgeting with your fingers.
Bakugou took a deep breath, his gaze faltering as he grimaced. What would he do if you said no?
“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for the weekend.”
“What?!” The question burst from your lips unbidden as your stomach dropped. Out of anything he could have asked you, you certainly weren’t expecting that.
“It’s not like that, okay!” Bakugou huffed. You hadn’t seen him that flustered since your school days.
“My mom pestered me into visiting and if I show up alone, she’s gunna try to set me up with some star fucker who’s only interested in my status,” he explained, sneering at the thought. “Please? You’re the only one I trust.”
At his words, you sighed. Of course he had to go and tack that on there, dragging your emotions further through the wringer. But how could you say no? Despite everything, Bakugou was your friend, and as you agreed, you tried not to think of how much the thought of him seeing another woman twisted your gut with jealousy.
Standing outside Bakugou’s childhood home you felt your heart leap into your throat, all the ways this could go wrong tumbling through your head.
“Hey—” Bakugou’s familiar gruff voice next to you yanked you from your thoughts, and you turned to look at him. “You clean up pretty nice,” he muttered, his gaze running over you.
“Could say the same about you,” you snorted, eyeing him up and down, his backhanded compliment distracting you from your nerves for the moment.
But it’s true, he did.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen Bakugou out of his Dynamight outfit, let alone in a nice dress shirt and slacks.
“Oh!” you exclaimed suddenly as he rang the buzzer, throwing you a questioning look at your outburst. “We’re supposed to be a couple, remember? We better act like it,” you reminded him, moving closer to his side.
Grumbling under his breath, he begrudgingly wrapped an arm around your waist however, just before the door swung open. This close, you could smell his cologne, barely masking the scent beneath that was so distinctly him. The heady scent of clean sweat and lingering trace of smoke was a byproduct of his quirk, but you couldn’t help but find it intoxicating, your head swimming.
“Katsuki! You’re here!”
Despite her youthful appearance, the woman that greeted you was unmistakably Bakugou’s mother; it was obvious where he got his looks from — the two shared the same unruly blond hair and fiery ruby red eyes.
“Is this her? Is this your girlfriend, whom you’ve only just recently informed us of?” she asked excitedly, grabbing you both and hauling you inside before you could answer.
“Will you get off of me?” Bakugou snapped, brushing his mother’s hand off his arm before introducing you.
“Don’t be so rude, Katsuki!” she exclaimed, swatting at his head, her frown dissipating as she turned back to you. “I’m Mitsuki, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you murmured in response, bowing your head to her.
“Oh, please, no need to be so formal!” she exclaimed, flashing you a warm smile that did wonders to put you at ease, that is, until she continued.
“My, Katsuki, you’ve certainly done well for yourself,” she mused, appraising you, and you felt your cheeks warm. “And here we were starting to think you’d never find a girlfriend on your own. It’s not good for your health to be married only to your work, and you know how much we want grandchildren—“
Quickly averting your gaze, your face flaring hotter at her words, you noticed Bakugou’s flustered expression, his own face flashing red for a moment before a sullen frown once more tugged at his lips.
“Yeah, yeah, where’s dad?” he asked, brusquely changing the subject, remembering to grab your hand as he ventured further inside.
Upon meeting the placid and mild mannered Bakugou Masaru, however, it was becoming even more evident that Katsuki had not only inherited his mother’s looks, but also her fiery temperament, his father the complete opposite of the two of them.
As you sat across from his parents, Bakugou scowled, no doubt waiting for his mother to pick up where she’d left off, his hand still clasped in yours turning sweaty. Luckily, before Mitsuki could get another word in Masaru leaned back in his chair, fixing the two of them with his easy going smile. “So, where did the two of you meet?” he asked and you nearly sighed in relief, saved from any further talk of babies.
Though you had to admit that the idea of surly, rough around the edges Bakugou Katsuki gently holding a child, a cute little blonde haired baby made you feel some sort of way, your heart aching in your chest. Before you could devote too much thought to the image however, you felt a sharp nudge to the ribs, pulling you back to the conversation at hand.
Where you met? That was an easy one.
“Actually, Katsuki and I were classmates at UA together,” you explained, grinning as you remembered the first time you’d met the explosive blonde next to you. “Now we work at the same agency together. Can you believe it took us that long to finally realize our true feelings?” you laughed lightly.
“Isn’t that romantic?” Mitsuki exclaimed, clapping a hand over her heart before her dreamy smile slipped and her thin brows drew down. “Did it really take you that long to ask her out, Katsuki?” she snapped.
“Yeah, something like that,” he muttered under his breath, carefully avoiding your gaze, while a wicked grin curled the corners of your mouth.
“Katsuki’s a little hesitant when it comes to romance,” you teased, ignoring the indignant glare he shot you.
“That’s not true, babe,” he ground out, his grasp on your hand tightening almost painfully. “She’s the one who kept playing hard to get!”
“Oh please! You’re the one who wouldn’t have realized your feelings without a push,” you scoffed, ready to continue arguing until Masaru cut in gently.
“Look at you two, already bickering like an old married couple,” he chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement behind his glasses.
Letting out an annoyed huff, Bakugou sank back into the cushions, his brows furrowing as he eyed you askance, chewing his bottom lip as if deep in thought.
“Katsuki, why don’t you help me in the kitchen?” his father murmured and the blonde sighed, nodding before pushing to his feet.
“Don’t push it,” he hissed under his breath, fixing you with a pointed look before ambling toward the kitchen and pulling a black apron over his head.
“Come on, let’s sit at the counter while they work,” Mitsuki suggested, ushering you toward the stools across from Katsuki who had just retrieved a knife and cutting board. For a moment, you stared transfixed at his bluff hands as he began slicing the vegetables, each sure fluid motion impressing you further. You’d heard Bakugou was a good cook, but you’d never really seen him in action before.
“Will ya quit starin’?” he barked, his eyes not leaving the task at hand to chastise you and you jumped.
“What, can’t perform while I’m watching?” you shot back, prickling slightly.
Bakugou grumbled under his breath, but didn’t rise to your goad, though the tips of his ears turned red — from anger or embarrassment, you couldn’t say.
“Would you like to see some of Katsuki’s baby pictures?” Mitsuki asked, plopping a large photo book at your elbow and Bakugou got his wish, your attention diverted, though not in the way he’d wanted.
“Mom!” he growled, the knife in his hand stilling mid chop, forgotten for the moment as his eyes flashed dangerously.
Unphased by his outburst, Mitsuki didn’t even bat an eye as she ignored him, opening the book in front of you. “He was such a cute kid,” she smiled fondly. “I don’t know what happened,” she teased, and Bakugou began grumbling louder as he returned to the cutting board.
“I dunno, I think he turned out rather handsome,” you mused, propping your chin in your hand as you gazed down at the photos, not realizing what you’d said til the words were already out of your mouth, noticing Bakugou stiffen across from you.
Mitsuki chuckled, flipping the page. “Oh, of course, though I meant his personality,” she continued, lifting her face to eye her son wryly. “He was praised so often as a child, it all went to his head.”
You nodded. That was true...
But… even then, age had mellowed him somewhat. Sure he was still surly and cocky at times, but he was also perceptive, recognizing his weaknesses and working to fix them, to always keep improving himself.
“You know—” Mitsuki lowered her voice as her son moved toward the pot bubbling on the stove, “—Katsuki’ll make a good husband someday,” she murmured, giving you a knowing look. “He may not seem like it, but he’s good around the house and incredibly devoted, just like his father…”
You could feel your face begin to warm again as you nodded wordlessly, your gaze following Bakugou across the small kitchen, watching as he moved with such surety, completely in his element.
“He’s never brought anyone home with him before, you know?” his mother confided, a smile in her voice. “He must really care for you.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that…” you argued weakly, your stomach knotting as you remembered the real reason he’d brought you.
“I need… a favour.”
Turning to you, Mitsuki grasped your hands in hers imploringly. “Please take care of him. You have no idea how much it warms my heart to see you together.”
At a loss for words, all you could manage to do was nod again before Bakugou’s voice interrupted the moment.
“Oi! Stop acting so weird!” he cried, pointing at his mother with the wooden spoon in his hand. “You’re gunna scare her off!”
“If anyone’s gunna scare her off, it’ll be you!”
The two began to bicker back and forth, their antics bringing a small smile to your lips, even as your heart began to ache in earnest, wishing this were real.
After dinner you offered to help Bakugou clean up, grabbing a towel as you stood next to him at the sink, drying the clean dishes he handed you.
“I think it’s working, they seem to like you,” he murmured, glancing toward his parents in the other room.
“What’s not to like?” you teased, flashing him a cheeky grin.
“Don’t get cocky, woman,” he huffed, flicking your forehead with his finger.
Scowling back at him, you wiped the soapy water from your face, contemplating smacking him with the damp towel in your hand.
“Though… that was some quick thinking when they asked how we met,” he conceded, his sudden praise taking you by surprise.
“I pretty much just told the truth,” you shrugged, hanging the towel up as he unstopped the drain. “I-I mean, with a little embellishment there at the end, of course,” you quickly added, noticing the small frown that tugged at his lips and the crease between his brows, skirting the truth just enough not to give your true feelings away.
Before Bakugou could respond, Masaru joined the pair of you in the kitchen, clapping a hand to each of your shoulders. “Thanks for your help, you two. I can’t remember the last time I got to just relax after dinner,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, no problem, pops,” Bakugou muttered, ducking his head.
“I bet you two are pretty exhausted, huh?” Mitsuki exclaimed, joining her husband. “Katsuki always used to be in bed early, unless that’s changed?”
“No, that’s still the same,” you laughed, poking him in the side, ignoring his glower.
“Come on then, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
Bidding Masaru good night, you followed Mitsuki down the hall, letting your gaze linger on the framed photos that decorated the wall.
“Here’s Katsuki’s old bedroom,” his mother explained, opening a door and ushering you both inside. “If you need anything, I’m sure Katsuki can take care of it. He knows where things are in this house. That is, if he hasn’t forgotten,” she snapped, fixing a stern eye on her son before lightening. “Sleep well. We’ll see you in the morning~,” she chirped, directing a pleasant grin at you,” her demeanor doing a one eighty.
“Wait—” you called feebly, the door already shutting behind her. “—There’s only one bed.”
“They probably did that on purpose,” Bakugou grumbled, stepping across the room to pull back the covers. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said without hesitation.
“Are you sure?” you asked, biting your lip. “That doesn’t sound comfortable…”
Bakugou shrugged. “You’re the one doing me a favour. It’s the least I can do.”
“Yeah, but—” you sighed; this might be a mistake, but what was the worst that could happen? “Look, the bed’s big enough for us both, let’s just stay on opposite sides and it doesn’t have to be weird,” you suggested.
“Fine,” Bakugou agreed with another shrug, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion.
“What’re you doing?” you gasped, quickly turning away, but not before getting a good look at his toned, scarred chest, your face warming at the further rustle of clothes behind you.
“Getting ready for bed,” he answered as if he didn’t see what the big deal was. “Not like you haven’t seen this much of me before,” he taunted and you chanced a peek over your shoulder, catching sight of his dark boxer briefs before he crawled under the covers.
“Yeah, but those times were at the swimming pool or-or during training, not in bed together!” you countered, unzipping your overnight bag with more force than necessary and pulling your night shirt out, wishing you’d brought something a little less revealing, having assumed you’d be sleeping in separate rooms.
Seriously, whose parents let their unmarried son and his “girlfriend” sleep in the same room together while under their roof? Doesn’t that seem a little scandalous?
Unless Mitsuki had seen through your act and was trying to set the two of you up…
“No peeking!” you exclaimed, glancing over your shoulder at Bakugou, finding him watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. Shrugging, he clicked his tongue before laying down and turning his back to you.
Biting your lip, you waited a moment longer to make sure he wouldn’t turn back around while you were changing, turning your back to him to undress before quickly pulling your night shirt over your head. Slipping into bed, you pulled the covers up to your chin, your skin instantly pebbling from the coolness of the fresh sheets beneath you and you scooted as close to the edge as you could.
Still, despite the bed being big enough for two people, it wasn’t exactly large by any standards, and as Bakugou shifted behind you, the bed frame creaked slightly. You could almost feel his back touching yours, the mattress sinking beneath you, sucking you closer.
“Jesus, woman, your feet are freezing!” Bakugou cried suddenly, jerking away from you.
“I can’t help it! If you don’t like it, stay on your side of the bed!” you replied, tensing.
“You’re the one who wanted me in bed with you in the first place,” he grumbled, tugging the blankets toward him.
“That’s not—! You’re making it sound like—!” you spluttered, searching for the right words while clutching at the blanket so he wouldn’t steal it all, and eventually silence fell as you stewed.
“Are you really that fuckin’ cold?” Bakugou asked, cutting your thoughts off as he shifted to peer over his shoulder at you.
“I’ll be fine,” you chattered, clenching your jaw and drawing your limbs in tighter against your chest, trying to warm yourself up.
“C’mere,” Bakugou finally grunted and you glanced back, finding him turning toward you, his arms open.
“I’m not going to let you spoon me!” you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks warm.
Bakugou frowned, his thin brows drawing down in annoyance. “Fine, go on and freeze then, but if you keep me up all night with your damn shivering there’ll be hell to pay,” he warned and you rolled your eyes, letting out an indignant huff.
“Alright, alright, just… keep your hands to yourself,” you muttered, scooting backward into his embrace til your back hit his solid chest, his warmth instantly seeping into you. “And you better not get turned on or something,” you added under your breath, your face flaring hotter at the thought, hyper conscious of all the places your bodies were now touching.
“Can’t make any promises,” he muttered, stiffening as you shifted against him.
“What’s that s’posed to mean?” you demanded, half turning to glance over your shoulder at him.
“When you’re a guy, sometimes you can’t fuckin’ help it… it has a mind of its own, and if you keep wriggling like that, it’s gunna make it a lot harder not to get turned on!” he exclaimed, and you stilled with a huff.
“Can’t you just, I dunno, think of something that’s not...hot?”
“A little hard to do when you’ve got a hot girl pressed against you,” he grumbled, his words making your cheeks burn and you fell silent, trying to get comfortable without moving too much.
“What did I tell you about squirming?” Bakugou exclaimed, but it was too late, and you squeaked, heat filling you as you felt a telltale bulge began to press into your back, nestled against your ass.
“You think I’m hot...?” you ventured softly, your stomach flipping somersaults, arousal pooling low in your gut at the feel of his hardness.
“I mean, anyone with eyes could fuckin’ see you are,” Bakugou huffed, making no move to readjust, bringing a pleased smile to your lips.
“I didn’t ask about anyone else, I asked about you,” you pressed, curious how he really felt.
Bakugou merely groaned, reluctant to answer. “Yes, alright!” he exclaimed finally, his voice almost a growl before softening, as if running out of steam. “It’s distracting. Are you happy now? I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”
Pleased with his answer, you fell silent, letting your eyes slip shut as you focused on Bakugou’s even breaths behind you, your thoughts drifting to something his mother had said earlier; the words that had brought a smile to your face at the time now made your stomach drop.
“He’s never brought anyone home with him before, you know? He must really care for you.”
“Hey, Katsuki…?” you murmured hesitantly, wondering if he was already asleep.
“Hmm?” he grunted moments later.
“What would you have done if I didn’t agree to come with you? Would you have asked someone else from the office, til someone agreed?”
“Why does it matter?” Bakugou asked, a sharp wariness to his tone that made him sound on edge.
“It… it just does, okay?” you argued, barely able to breathe as you waited for his answer.
Did you just happen to be the first girl he asked, or had he picked you for a reason?
“He must really care for you…”
At your insistence, Bakugou sighed — a heavy breath that left him deflated.
“I don’t know. I probably would’ve just told my mom you couldn’t make it,” he admitted.
“You wouldn’t have asked anyone else?” you pressed, not quite daring to breathe. “...Katsuki?” you asked when he didn’t respond.
“No,” he whispered. “The truth is… I didn’t wanna ask anyone else. I wanted it to be you.”
His confession seemed to steal whatever breath you had left, leaving you speechless while your heart beat wildly in your throat, still processing what he’d said.
“Well, say something, dammit!” he growled, your lack of response sending him into a panic.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to ask me out, you jerk!” you huffed, suddenly turning in his embrace to face him, jabbing your finger into his chest.
Before you could berate him further, however, Bakugou’s mouth collided with yours as he pulled you closer, effectively trapping you against him and cutting you off as his tongue invaded your mouth.
For a moment your mind went blank — was this really happening? You’d imagined it so many times before, but this was so much better, each insistent caress of his agile tongue against yours sending a thrill through you.
“So, how long have you wanted me to ask you out?” Bakugou panted, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his eyes flicking up to yours as he waited for your answer.
“...Since high school,” you admitted quietly, your own eyes darting away and Bakugou frowned, a quick tightening of his expression that spoke of regret before he tilted his chin up to catch your lips once more, this time taking his time, savouring it, and you whimpered, snaking your arms around his neck as he rolled you to your back.
“Katsuki,” you gasped, running your hands over his muscular shoulders as your gaze traveled downward, taking in the expanse of bare chest hovering over you.
“Hmm?” he grunted, his lips trailing to your neck as his fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, teasing the flushed skin just below your navel, hesitating as if waiting for your approval.
“Please,” you sighed, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth and his hand slid higher, covering your naked breast before kneading it, his warmth seeping into you. Humming softly, you arched into his touch, your own hand reaching down to palm him through his boxers, giving an experimental squeeze and pulling a moan from his chest.
“You sure about this?” he asked, his lips brushing your collar bone before he lifted his eyes to yours, his ruby depths searching yours hopefully.
“I’m sure,” you breathed. “Want this. I want you,” you murmured, and your words brought another moan to his lips.
“I’ve wanted you so long,” he whispered, his breath hitching as you stroked him through the fabric before your fingers dipped below the waistband of his boxers, wanting to feel him, wrapping your small hand around his girth.
“Yeah? Me too,” you admitted, giggling as he lifted your shirt, his lips quirking into a smirk as he took your peaked nipple between his teeth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.
“Yeah? Bet you’ve touched yourself while thinking of me before, hah?” he growled, switching breasts as he slipped his hand down the front of your panties, his thick callused fingers delving your folds, finding you wet and wanting, emboldened by your response.
“Maybe,” you gasped, rolling your hips against his hand, seeking the friction from the heel of his palm as his fingers slid deeper, past the first tight ring of muscle.
“But I bet you have too,” you wagered, your soft voice a purr as you caressed his velvety length, smearing his pre over your palm. When Bakugou made a noncommittal grunt in response, you huffed a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes?” you teased, giving his cock another squeeze. “Bet my hand feels better than yours,” you continued, gasping as his teeth grazed your skin.
“Bet your pussy feels even better,” Bakugou muttered, once more silently asking if this was what you wanted as his lidded eyes met yours, his fingers scissoring inside you, preparing you for him before curling, blunt nails grazing your spongy g-spot.
“I bet it does,” you gasped, your words coming out breathier than you’d planned, your walls clenching around his fingers in surprise.
“You ready for me, Princess?” he breathed, pulling his hand free to tug at your panties, easing them down with your help.
“I’m ready,” you exclaimed, laying back and opening your legs to him invitingly as he shed his boxers, his weeping cock standing at attention.
Guiding himself to your waiting entrance, he took a moment to tease your folds, spreading your slick over his thick head before finally pressing into you, watching his length slowly disappear into your cunt before crawling back over you to claim your lips in a passionate kiss. The way his tongue slid over yours as he continued to fill you was almost overwhelming and your head swam as he split you on his dick, stretching you almost to the point of pain.
“Mm, so big,” you gasped, pressing your palms to his chest as if to stall him. “Slow down, Katsu, it’s been a while,” you whined and he stopped.
“That so? Am I too big for ya, Princess?” he murmured, amusement in his husky voice. “Or maybe all the other losers you’ve been with just had tiny pricks.”
Hiding behind his crude words you detected a sliver of insecurity — How many have you slept with when it could’ve been me all this time?
“You’re not too big,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his throat, feeling him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing under your touch. “I haven’t been with anyone for a long time,” you admitted honestly, glancing up to catch his gaze to drive the point home.
“What, they couldn’t satisfy you?”
“Mm mm,” you hummed, shaking your head, your hands trailing up his arms, memorizing how his muscles flexed and tensed under his skin. They weren’t you. “But I bet you can.”
A wolfish grin spread across Bakugou’s face. “You fuckin’ know it, babe.”
“I’m ready,” you mewled, wriggling your hips under him, urging him to continue filling you.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he groaned, dropping his face to the hollow of your neck as he finally sheathed himself completely, his tip nestled against your cervix, stretching you nearly to your limit.
“Been a while for you too?” you asked quietly, and at your question Bakugou huffed a mirthless laugh.
“Yeah,” he answered simply.
To your surprise, when he began to move, he was tender, careful not to hurt you, but not in such a way that left you wanting. Who knew big bad Lord Dynamight had such a soft streak? Unless… it was only in relation to you?
Buoyed by the thought, you smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer as his hips met yours, wanting to feel every inch of him pressed against you as you made love.
Holding his gaze as he fucked you, his cock finding that sweet spot inside you with each rolling thrust, you lost yourself in him — in each deep gasp and moan and whimper that caught in his throat, in the way his skin flushed with exertion, dusting his cheeks with colour, in each drop of sweat that rolled slowly down his chest, but mostly in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe you were really there, that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
“Katsuki, I’m getting close,” you whispered, canting your hips to meet him, feeling full and warm and close, so close to him. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d ever felt like this with someone.
“Yeah?” he grunted, his lips twitching, “then cum for me, sweetheart, I wanna see how good I make you feel.”
How could you deny him that?
As your pleasure washed over you, enveloping you like warm water, rolling over you like the tide, you opened yourself to it, pressing your face to Bakugou’s shoulder to muffle your cries as you came, clenching around him like a vice.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, shuddering as he rode you through it, quickly pulling out to spill his seed over your stomach before dropping his forehead to your chest and panting for breath.
For a long moment he merely stayed there as you held him close, running your fingers through his spiky locks, past caring about his mess cooling on your skin and when he finally pulled away to fetch his discarded t-shirt to clean you with, you let out a soft whine, not wanting to lose his warmth.
“I’ll be right back, fuckin’ needy,” he tsked, though his eyes danced with amusement as he wiped you clean, letting his hand linger a moment longer before tossing the shirt aside and pulling the blanket back over you, wrapping you once more in his strong arms and holding you against his chest as silence fell over the room.
“Look at us,” you finally murmured, “a couple of idiots pining needlessly for each other all this time.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Bakugou huffed, his lips twitching down, and you shifted, frowning up at him in turn.
“Why didn’t you?” you demanded, throwing his question back at him.
“I… I, fuck, woman, why does it even matter now?” he scoffed. “Pretty sure that’s kinda irrelevant now, unless you have any objections…” he muttered reluctantly.
“No objections, just one request,” you replied, taking his face between your hands, smiling softly.
“Ask me for real,” you murmured, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip as you held his gaze, your heart aching with affection.
Bakugou snorted softly as a grin tugged at his kiss-swollen lips. “I can do that,” he huffed, though he hesitated. “You wanna be my girl?” he asked softly, his arms tightening around you as if afraid you’d leave him now. “Cause I’ve gone too fuckin’ long wanting you, only to go back to how we were.”
“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, for real this time,” you replied, pressing a chaste peck to his parted lips. “As if there were any doubt,” you teased, a thought hitting you. “Guess your mother kinda set you up after all,” you mused, grinning wryly.
“Don’t you even say that!” Bakugou gasped, his mouth falling open while his brows knit, his indignation only making you laugh harder.
“You should be grateful to her!”
“I mean it, woman!” he warned with a growl that sent a thrill chasing up your spine, though his words held no real heat.
“Oh, what’re you gunna do to me?” you taunted, still clutched by your laughter, gasping as he suddenly pinned you down once more.
“I’m sure I can think of a few ways to shut you up,” he answered, his eyes flashing, sending heat washing through you afresh.
“I’d like to see you try,” you shot back, sharing his grin.
“Just remember you asked for this, Princess.”
[ the next morning ]
“What if they heard us?” you whispered, following Katsuki toward the faint sound of cooking and the smell of something tasty.
“We were quiet,” he shrugged. “If not, we’re grown adults, so who cares?” he argued, flashing you a toothy smirk that screamed ‘wait til I get you home where we can be as loud as we want’.
Throwing him a doubtful look, you didn’t get a chance to respond before his mother greeted you with a rather knowing grin.
“Good morning you two. Sleep well?”
Oh, she’d definitely heard.
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conversations with the devil
bakugou katsuki x reader
PAIRING. (dirtbag) stepbro!bakugou x fem!reader (ft. his nasty frat bros)
LENGTH. 19.2k words
GENRE. nsfw + dc, aged up characters (21+)
EXTRA. this takes place in the same au as initiation :>
CONTENT. dark content: blackmail, coercion, manipulation, noncon (breeding, creampie, fantasies, recording), power imbalance, stepcest. ass play, breathplay, cum eating, cumplay, degradation, (very) dubcon, edging, fingering, humiliation, impact play, masturbation (m + f), multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), objectification, overstimulation, panty theft / sniffing, size kink, somnophilia (referenced), spit kink, squirting, teasing / fantasizing, voyeurism, no aftercare
SYNOPSIS. nothing weird’s gonna happen just because the two of you are all alone... right?
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT AND THE DARK CONTENT STATED IN THE WARNINGS.
Katsuki gets a lot of pussy.
That’s absolutely not a fact that you should know about your own stepbrother. But it’s a fact that you do know, and can’t really help knowing — because he practically shoves it in your face every summer. It’s a fact that you can hear through the wall separating his room and yours.
Every fucking night for the last two summers. It’s like the girls he fucks are so shrill. So incredibly, terribly shrill that their voices are etched, permanently, into your brain.
Fuck me harder, Katsuki.
God, Katsuki, your dick is so fucking good.
The best dick I’ve ever had.
You scowl. Those obscene voices are playing in your head as you near the end of your annual drive home from college for summer break. It’s a long drive — from the south end of the state to the very middle of it.
You guess it’s a long drive for your stepbrother, too, who drives from the north end of the state down. The both of you have made the drive for the past two summers — ever since your mom and his dad shacked up, bought a nice little home in the burbs, and asked you both to drive over so you could all play house.
Like a big, happy family.
Your douche of a stepbrother is probably already home. His college lets out a week earlier than yours each summer.
You frown, staring at the road. You’re in the neighborhood now, driving past familiar houses, as you approach your own. You wonder how he’ll be this summer. If he’ll be just as bad as last summer and the one before. If he’ll be even worse.
Sometimes you think he does it just to deprive you of sleep. Just to piss you off. Because that’s just the kind of guy he is.
Either way, you’ve already mentally prepared yourself to get very little sleep, with the devil the next room over.
Speak of the devil; as you pull up to your driveway, you see his car parked there. It’s an obnoxious thing, slammed and spoilered. Your mom’s car, which is usually in the driveway, is nowhere to be found. He’s parked in the very middle of the driveway — so that, even though there should be room for your car next to his, there isn’t.
Asshole, you mutter under your breath, pulling into the street parking.
You step out of your car, adjust your top. Throw your duffel bag over your shoulder. It’s hot outside. Muggy. The sun beams down, intense. You trudge up to the house, peeling your tiny top away from your sweaty, sticky skin. You slot your keys in the front door, open it, and call out, flatly, “Kat.”
No response. The house is completely empty.
For some reason, you’re a little disappointed. Where’s your mom? Your stepdad? Where’s your dumb stepbrother — the one who should be tormenting you from the second you step in the door?
You frown. Why do you even care where your brother is? All he is is a pain in the ass, anyway. It would be better if he stayed gone, wherever he is.
You head up the stairs, to your room, lugging your duffel bag up the stairs. If Katsuki were here, you’d make him carry it up. Well — you’d try. He’d probably just tell you to fuck off.
What’s the use of having a brother if he won’t even carry your shit up the stairs?
You’re thinking about his terrible attitude as you jog back down the stairs and into the kitchen. The AC is on, and it’s chilly in the house, but you’re still cooling off from the heat outside. So you fill up a glass of water.
You’re leaning against the counter, sipping on it thoughtfully, when the front door opens.
He must have just gone on a run or something. Because he’s covered in sweat, wearing nothing but workout shorts and Nikes. No shirt. Sweat drips down his chest, snakes down the ridges between his abs.
You’ve always thought his build was absolutely ridiculous. Huge and obnoxious, just like his personality. You can hear the music in his airpods all the way from the kitchen — loud, bass-heavy. Something about fucking bitches, probably. He’s cliche like that.
You meet his eyes. You hate that scheming grin that crosses his face when he sees you. You could slap it right off. It’s just so annoying. He takes an airpod out of one ear, slamming the front door behind him, and says,
“What’s up, squirt? It’s been a while.”
You scrunch your nose up at the nickname, still sipping on your water as you watch him approach.
“Don’t call me that,” you say flatly. “You’re getting sweat everywhere,” you frown, glancing at a droplet making its way down his abs. The sweat rolls down his pecs. Down his neck, collecting in the little divot between his collarbones. “It’s gross.”
He eyes you out, sly, as he approaches the kitchen.
“A little sweat never hurt anybody,” he says, stepping around the kitchen island.
You feel like he’s always getting a little too close to you. Taking up a little too much space. It’s like his personality, his aggression, expands to fill whatever space he’s in. He’s always been big. And right now, he seems even bigger.
You don’t know what it is. He couldn’t have grown. It must just be the proximity. The emptiness of the house, the fact that he’s standing far too close.
You shrink away. “Go take a shower.”
He wrenches the glass of water out of your hand, cutting you off when you start to protest. “I’m not done working out,” he says, right before he takes a huge gulp of the water in your glass.
You’re staring at him, incredulous. Wondering how the hell he always finds a new way to piss you off. “You’re so fucking annoying,” you scoff, watching him down more of your water.
“What’s with the attitude?” he says, after drinking more than half of it. He runs his tongue over his lips, leaning against the counter. “I can’t believe you’re so rude to your big brother right off the bat.”
Big brother. Ever since your parents got together, he’s lorded that over you. As if a year age difference really means anything, considering you’re both in your twenties. As if he’s actually related to you.
“Give me that,” you snap, yanking the glass right back out of his hand.
You put a little too much force behind it; the water sloshes out of the cup, splashing onto your tits.
“Fuck,” you say under your breath, looking down at your tiny top, the wet spot on your chest. When you look back up at him, he’s looking down at your chest, with a satisfied smirk on his face. He meets your eyes, still smiling.
Blatant. That’s a good word for your stepbrother.
You break eye contact.
He’s a dog. You know that deep down, maybe on some level that you refuse to really acknowledge fully. You have known that since your parents first got together a couple of years ago. All the lingering glances, right off the bat. He’s always been like this.
But, even if you know that he’s a dog, it’s not something you acknowledge. Really, it’s better if you don’t. Because if you do…
If you do acknowledge what a dog he is…
Then you might have to confront your own stolen glances. The ones that happen just once every so often, when you’re not paying attention to what you’re doing, and you catch yourself looking at his body.
Like right now.
You realize suddenly that, while you were thinking about all of this, letting your mind wander, your eyes were wandering, too: down to his waistband, where his happy trail disappears under the elastic.
You look away quickly, and when you meet his eyes, there’s a knowing smile on his face.
You gulp, clearing the disgusting thoughts out of your head. “Where are mom and dad?” you demand.
“They didn’t tell you?” he says, stepping closer. You can smell the sweat on him; it’s sickly sweet, almost. “They’re gone for a week.”
You’re not surprised that they didn’t bother to tell you. They tend to default their interactions to your asshole of a stepbrother, usually forgetting that you exist. Because, somehow, Katsuki has ingratiated himself as the favorite child of both his dad and your mom.
He’s the pride and joy: at the top of his class, on a full ride to a prestigious college.
You frown, thinking about what he’d just said. Gone for a week? Leaving you here, with … ?
“Where are they?”
“Fuck if I know. All I know,” he grins, “is that they left me in charge.”
You roll your eyes. There he goes again — playing the big brother role so well, like the two of you are kids, left home alone for the night. Milking that role for all it’s got.
“Really,” you say flatly.
“Really,” he says, taking a step toward you. You step away instinctively; your back hits the counter. “You have to do whatever I say while we’re all alone,” he teases. “Mommy told me so.”
All alone. The way he says things — especially right now — seems so… so… suggestive.
“I might invite some friends over this week,” he’s saying, resting his weight against the counter, gauging your expression with a calculating eye.
You sigh. “Can you just chill out for one week?” you snap. “I want to decompress. The semester just finished.”
“Yeah?” he grins. “Why, because you worked so hard? Got a 4.0? Made the Dean’s List? Deserve some relaxation time, after all that hard work?”
You stare at him, indignant. You’ve never done all that well in school, and he knows that. That’s his area of expertise, you guess. Along with being the biggest douchebag known to man.
“Just fuck off,” you snap. “I don’t want your frat bros in the house. They’re gross. You’re gross.”
It’s true; they are gross. You’d met them when he’d brought them — uninvited — to the last family gathering, for whatever godforsaken reason. They’d all shown up in an obnoxiously loud car, and then they’d spent the entire night snickering amongst themselves. You’d overheard some of their whispers, and you could’ve sworn that some of the disgusting things you’d heard them saying to each other were about you —
“I’m gonna do what I want, Princess,” he says drily.
Princess. You hate that. The way he subverts the innocent nickname your mom uses for you. Makes it feel… grimy.
He plucks the glass out of your hand, and at this point you’re too lost in thought to fight him on it. Maybe it’s better that way, because your hand had been so tight around the glass that it was probably close to shattering. So you just watch him down the rest of the water from it.
Katsuki walks past you and to the kitchen sink, brushing your bare arm with his on the way there. You feel the sweat transfer from his skin to yours; disgusted, you wipe it off with your hand. He places the glass on the side of the sink — not bothering to put it in the dishwasher or even in the sink, like you ask him to do every summer.
It’s intentional, like everything else. Just to get under your skin.
You screw up your face in distaste, tracking him with your eyes. He rounds the kitchen island and leans over the granite, facing you — his chain swinging in the heavy, empty space. You walk to the opposite side of the kitchen island and stand there, just looking at him, with half a mind to lecture him about his glass.
“What?” he asks.
You decide against it. What good would it do, anyway?
“‘Kay,” he says sarcastically, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
He puts his chain in his mouth, sucking on it absently as he unlocks his phone. He’s leaning over the granite with his phone flat on the counter, and he must know that you can see everything on the screen from where you’re standing. He must know that you can see his obscene phone background — some model with her legs spread. You know he knows you can see it.
You watch him tap on a familiar red icon — a dating app. He starts to scroll through it, with a bored expression on his face.
“Hey,” he says, looking up at you, letting his chain fall from his mouth. “You don’t mind if I have someone over tonight, do you?”
His tone says it all: he’s not asking you. He’s telling you. He might as well say, You don’t mind if I fuck a girl’s brains out while you’re trying to sleep, do you?
“It’s not the frat bros,” he’s saying caustically. “Since I know you’d throw a fit about that.”
You clench your jaw, thinking about the noises you’re in for if he does decide to bring someone over. The bed creaking so loud you don’t even know how it’s still standing. The girls moaning like they won’t survive the night. The girls saying I’m cumming! so many times that they must be faking it. Because there’s no fucking way.
Those voices might drive you insane.
Fuck me, Katsuki - ! God, you’re so fucking deep.
Your dick is fucking amazing.
A different girl every fucking night.
Maybe it’s time to acknowledge it — he’s such a fucking dog.
“What?” he fake pouts. “Is someone jealous?”
Your eyes widen. “Jealous?” you stammer quickly.
You can’t believe he’d ask that. What does he even mean by that? Jealous of what, exactly? Jealous of those girls getting their brains fucked out the next room over? Jealous of the way they’re getting pounded into the mattress? Jealous of the amount of times he makes them cum? You can’t be jealous of that — can’t be jealous of girls for fucking your very own stepbr—
“Jealous that you’re not getting any anymore,” he says, studying you — sly. “Pops told me about your breakup.” His eyes narrow. “Why? What did you think I meant?”
You’re flustered. Your mouth feels like cotton. It’s that same feeling you’d feel as a little kid, getting caught in the act: pilfering something, maybe. Doing something your parents really wouldn’t like. “Nothing,” you say quickly.
There’s a smug look on his face; it’s replaced, slowly, by an expression of mock surprise. “Wait a minute,” he says caustically. “You didn’t think I meant… jealous of the girls I bring over, right?”
“Of course not,” you hiss under your breath — as if someone could hear you, even though it’s just the two of you.
Just the two of you, all alone in this house, for the week.
“Because that would be totally sick,” he says. Smug.
“I wasn’t thinking about that,” you say through your teeth.
“You should get your mind out of the gutter,” he chides. “I mean, I get it — you’re dick deprived. Must suck and all. But I’m your big brother, for god’s sake.” His tone is so caustic: sarcasm dripping off every word. Nasty, just like his personality.
You wonder what’s set him off. Why he’s being even worse than usual. Why he’s tormenting you so much. Because this is different from the little gazes across the years, the ones that you can pretend to ignore. This is blatant conversation, the type that you can’t just brush over. No skirting around the topic.
“Stop talking,” you say, because you’ll be damned if you devote any more attention to this awful conversation. “Just stop.”
“Man,” he grins, leaning over the kitchen island — getting right up in your face. So close. Too close. You take a step backward, and he laughs. “Imagine if your mom knew what went through your dirty mind.”
He’s being even more of a pain than usual. You don’t know what it is. This should just be like any other summer. Your parents have gone off before, left the two of you on your own in the house before, right…?
Well, now that you think of it, they’ve never gone away for this long before. They’ve taken a few days here and there, but never a week.
So is that it? The promise of being alone together for an entire week? Is he going to be like this the entire time?
Katsuki straightens up, locking his phone. “I can’t believe you, squirt,” he’s laughing. “Didn’t know you were so fucking sick in the head.”
“Shut the fuck up, Katsuki,” you say, shifting from foot to foot. “Just shut up. You’re being fucking disgusting. I wasn’t thinking of anything like that. I would never!”
You’d put a little too enthusiasm behind the last word, and you find yourself cringing at your own adamance. Because it’s so obvious that it was overdone.
Your brother smiles — a self-assured, knowing smirk. “I’m just fucking with you,” he says innocently. “Damn, why are you all worked up? Can’t you take a joke?”
You’re staring up at him indignantly. Furiously. He’s so nonchalant — as if he didn’t just imply that you wanted to fuck him. Him! Of all people. Your own stepbrother. You’re speechless, just glaring at him, without the faintest idea of how to respond.
He laughs, reaches across the counter to squish up your cheeks with his massive, rough hand.
“Relax, kiddo,” he chides — condescending. Sarcastic. “This isn’t a cheap porno. I’m your big brother. Nothing weird’s gonna happen just because we’re all alone.”
Then he’s laughing, pulling away from the counter, turning his attention back to flipping through the girls on his dating app as he walks off.
I’m your big brother.
You watch him walk up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The way his body flexes, covered in sweat, glinting in the light.
Nothing weird’s gonna happen.
Katsuki is in great shape.
He takes pride in his body, hits the gym at college every single day after class.
So, of course, he won’t let that hard work go to waste. He has weights in his room. Makes use of them throughout the summer — doesn’t miss a single day.
That’s why he’s on the floor right now, laid out, pressing dumbbells: 30 pounds in each hand, easy.
Maybe he should get something heavier.
He’s thinking of you as he works out — quick, high rep sets, with sweat running down his face and music going in the background. He’s thinking of your secretive glances at his body. The flustered way you always peek at his abs. His arms. The hungry, absent gazes that linger on the waistband of his shorts.
His perverted little sister. He’s trying to keep count of his reps, but he keeps getting distracted, thinking about you.
He’s so glad you’re finally home. He hates that lull each summer. The way his college lets out a week before yours.
He wants you every single summer. Thinks about you, fucks other girls wishing it was your pussy clenching around his dick.
Usually, he can tide himself over — unloading in cunt after cunt. Sticky, messy cum in girls who are good for nothing else as he imagines you under him, your eyes rolling back, his hand around your throat.
It’s particularly bad this summer, the want for you. The anticipation. He feels like he’s been going crazy, ever since his dad told him that he’d be going off with your mom for a week, leaving the two of you alone in the house. He doesn’t even know where they’ve gone. Doesn’t remember, doesn’t care. Because as soon as he’d heard that, you were the only thing on his mind. That was when he started scheming.
That was when he’d made up his mind that he’d fuck you.
Katsuki’s been waiting too long for an opportunity like this — to have you all to himself in this big house.
Your parents left for the week a couple days ago. It’s been torture for him ever since. He’s had so much pent up energy, waiting for you to get home. So much desire. He’s been inviting girl after girl over.
(That’s normal; he does it every summer, fucks them to blow off steam. Fucks them to distract himself from you. And, every summer, he fucks them extra hard, gets them screaming extra loud, just to piss you off.
Just to show his little sister what she’s missing out on.)
Katsuki doesn’t have any trouble picking up girls. They trip over themselves to fuck him — so much pussy he’s fucking drowning in it. But he finds them pathetic. Boring.
He wants you — his dirty whore of a little sister. Because he knows, even though you give it up easily, you’ll put up a fight when it’s your brother.
You take things like this seriously. And he finds that annoying — that you’ll spread your legs for guys you don’t even know, but not him. He’s thinking of last summer, and the guys you’d bring home from your favorite bar, when it should’ve been him in your pussy.
But there’s one upside to all of this.
The thought of all of your uptight reactions to him, of all of that denial, when he knows you want it — that gets his dick so hard. I would never! you’d said. He’s licking the sweat off of his upper lip, thinking about how badly he wants your cunt, as he nears the end of his set.
His hookups haven’t been enough this summer, not nearly. No amount of pussy will satisfy him if he can’t have you. The promise of being alone with you for a week has been far too enticing. It has him so worked up that he jacks off practically as soon as his hookups leave. He finds himself doing it several times a day: one hand on his dick, the other on his phone — where he’s usually zoomed in on your ass, thinking about burying his cock in it. And he cums all over himself — sticky white spurting up onto his stomach, onto his heaving chest, with his lip between his teeth and his face contorted.
Sometimes he fucks a little pocket pussy he got with you in mind: strokes it, messy, over his dick. He dumps load after load into it, wishing it was your cunt. Thinks about how hot, wet, and tight you’d be. He likes to hold it in place, thrusting up into it. While he does, he imagines his hands on your hips, keeping you still as he pounds up into your dripping pussy.
It’s been too long since he’s last seen you. When was the last time, anyway? Some family gathering. But he hears a lot about you from your mom. She’s taken a liking to him; she likes to keep him updated on his little sister. She thinks he’s talented, smart. And he is.
She thinks he’s a good kid.
He wonders what your mom would think of him if she knew how long he spends on your Instagram, especially at the end of each spring semester, when summer draws close. What would she think if she saw him zooming in on your party pictures to see your cleavage in your skimpy outfits? What would she think if she saw him showing all of his friends pictures of his nasty slut of a little sister?
Katsuki’s friends all know you. From afar. They’ve all spent nights with their dicks wrapped up in their fists, drooling over pictures of you.
They talk to your big brother about passing you around, stuffing you full. They ask your big brother when he’ll let them abuse all of your holes at once.
Katsuki’s arms are burning as he lifts the dumbbells. He doesn’t know what rep he’s on anymore. He’s lost count. He’s too distracted, thinking about what his friends keep saying about you. The way they keep egging him on.
That’s your stepsister?
You get all fucking summer with her?
This is your — what? — third summer with her?
You’re fucking insane if you haven’t fucked her yet.
A call starts to buzz on his phone. So he finishes the set and sits up, with burning arms.
It’s his friends. A group call.
He has half a mind to ignore it, to go back to his thoughts of you as he works out. Maybe he’ll fuck his fist again when he’s done, with you in his head. But he decides against it. He was pretty much done with the set, anyway.
He accepts the call, puts it on speaker.
“Katsu,” says a low voice. “What’s up, dude?”
“Nothing. Working out,” he says. “Well. I was trying to.” Clipped. He has a short temper to begin with, and he finds it particularly irritating when his friends interrupt his fantasies.
“Cool. Hey, how’s your little sis?” another voice crackles over the line.
“Slutty as ever,” he says, thinking of your little top. “Just walks around in these tiny fucking outfits. Tits out. No fucking bra. I swear she’s fucking asking for it.”
“Send a picture,” someone snickers.
He grins, wiping sweat off his face with the back of his hand. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“More for the spank bank,” someone says.
He scowls. Usually, Katsuki doesn’t mind sharing with his friends. He likes it: seeing girls get ruined right in front of him. But, for some reason, he’s feeling different about it right now. When it’s you…
At the very least, you’re going to be his before any of his friends get any.
“You fucked her yet?”
He snorts. “She’s been home for like an hour.”
“If it were me?” someone says. “I’d have had her face down ass up as soon as she walked through the fucking door.”
He’s thinking about that now. You, his cute stepsister, face down, ass up. His big hands spreading your ass cheeks. His dick moving in and out of your cunt. He keeps replaying that in his head, on a loop.
“God, yeah,” his other friend is saying. “Remember her ass in that one post?”
He’s zoning out as friends talk, thinking about your ass in your outfit today. Your tiny shorts. The little shirt you’re wearing — a strip of fabric that barely even qualifies as an article of clothing. Your nipples pressing against the thin material.
You must dress like that on purpose. You must post all of that slutty shit on purpose.
You must be doing it all to tempt him, just like the fucking slut you are.
“Hey, Kat,” someone says. “When are you gonna let us get a turn?”
His mouth twists up in distaste. Katsuki doesn’t like coming in second, not one bit. Especially not when it comes to you. He has dibs. “Me first,” he says, drily.
Once he gets a turn, though…
Someone laughs. “I bet her pussy is so fucking good,” they say. “Bet she takes dick like a champ. What do you think, Katsu?”
“Yeah. For sure.”
“Hey, Kiri,” says a voice — “what position would you want her in?”
“69,” answers Katsuki’s friend. “I’d make her ride my tongue. What about you, Kat?”
Katsuki suddenly hears something quiet, just under the buzz of his friends’ voices on the phone. Your footsteps: quiet, secretive. Your tread light. Pausing right outside his door.
Knowing you can hear everything he’s saying, your stepbrother says, “Doggy.”
“And why’s that?” comes a voice over the line.
Your brother knows you’re still idling outside his door, still listening. Waiting to hear what he says.
“Princess has a nice ass,” he says. “I wanna look at it while her pussy swallows up my dick.”
His friends laugh, agreeing. Katsuki hears a light footstep: you stepping away. And he’s suppressing a laugh, imagining that poor, embarrassed look on your face. It gets him hard, that humiliation.
He hears the shower turn on as his friends continue to talk about you and what position they’d like to fuck you in most. And he’s just thinking about you. About wanting to fuck you every summer. About how right now is his chance — now that he has you all to himself for the entire week.
“What’s she up to, anyway?” someone’s saying.
“She’s in the shower,” he answers. Scheming.
There’s a heavy silence on the line, while everyone thinks about that. Imagines that — you in the shower, rubbing soap over your body.
“So what are you waiting for, Kat?” someone says.
He laughs. “Maybe I should go.”
Katsuki’s friends dog him for it, egg him on. They encourage him until he agrees — he’ll do something about it. He doesn’t need much convincing, anyway. Not at this point.
Katsuki ends the call and drops his phone into his pocket.
Then, your stepbrother steps out of his room and walks lightly to the bathroom, slipping his big hands into the pockets of his shorts. He’s looking at the bathroom door now, leaning his muscular frame against the wall next to it.
It’s slightly askew. Cracked open.
He can hear you moving in the shower. He’s listening to each movement, no matter how small. Imagining how you look in there. He hears you pop open the cap to the shampoo bottle.
And he’s thinking.
You don’t usually shower with the door open. He’s tried to open it before, actually. Once or twice, when he was feeling particularly malicious. It’s always been locked.
So why is it open now? Not just unlocked, but open?
What are you doing, leaving the door cracked like that — while you’re all naked and vulnerable, right on the other side of the thin shower curtain?
You’re fucking asking for it.
And he’s thinking about giving it to you. About stepping into the shower and surprising you. He’d cover your mouth and muffle the inevitable shriek of surprise, slot his dick into your pussy. He’d fuck you up against the shower wall, plunging in and out of your tight, wet cunt.
Katsuki steps into the bathroom, adjusting his hardening dick in his shorts.
The air in the bathroom is hot. Steamy, from the heat of the water.
He thinks he can hear something, just over the sound of the water hitting the floor of the tub.
It’s almost like… tiny whimpers.
Little pleasured gasps.
Katsuki grins. What is his perverted little sister doing in there, right on the other side of the shower curtain?
Before he does anything else, your brother pulls out his phone. Flips through his apps quickly, until he finds what he’s looking for — voice memos. He presses record, then sets his phone on the counter. Katsuki’s going to keep this forever; he’ll have your cute moans accessible whenever he needs something to stroke his dick to.
And, now that he’s capturing every noise you make, Katsuki takes a step toward the shower.
He pauses, feeling something soft underfoot. He lifts his foot and looks down at the floor, to find your discarded pile of clothes. The same tiny shirt you were wearing when the water splashed over your tits, the same obscenely small shorts.
And, right at the top of the pile, your panties.
Your whimpers are getting louder from behind the shower curtain. He crouches down, listening, his dick hard in his shorts for his stepsister’s adorable gasps.
You’re so filthy, such a slut for this: making yourself feel so good in the shower, with the door open, knowing his room is right next to it. He picks up your panties from the pile of clothes with one finger, grinning. Brings them to his face as your gasps get a little louder — as they turn into soft moans.
He inhales, deep. Gets his head full of pussy. Feels it cloud his mind, feels his dick getting even stiffer. He’s ravenous: a dog with a bone, practically drooling with your panties pressed to his face.
Katsuki’s a smart guy. He knows that the smart thing to do is to slip out of the bathroom right now. He could pocket your panties, bring them back to his room to jack off behind the safety of his locked door. But your moans sound too good. They have him chained to the floor, paralyzed. He doesn’t want to leave.
And then, he hears it.
A breathy moan. Your breathy moan. So quiet that he’s not even sure he heard you right at first.
And then he hears it again. A little louder this time.
Fuck. Katsuki. Make me cum.
He grabs his dick through his shorts with his free hand, squeezes it, blood rushing between his legs fast. His name. You’re saying his name while you play with your pussy right behind the curtain. He wants to know just what you’re thinking of. What you’re imagining, what kind of sick scenarios you’re concocting with your big brother in the starring role.
With your panties still pressed to his face with his left hand, he shoves his right down his shorts, pulls his drooling dick out. There’s precum everywhere — sticky, oozing. That’s what his little sister does to him. He wants your pussy so bad. Smelling it isn’t enough. He wants to lick it, to fuck you with his tongue. He wants to eat you up.
He listens to your moans get louder from behind the shower curtain. More urgent. He’s thinking about how fucking filthy you are for that. Making yourself cum to the thought of him, after all of that resistance, all of that pretending.
I would never!
He knew you wanted him. And here’s the confirmation. And now, after these summers of pent up frustration…
Now, he’s gonna have you.
He keeps taking deep breaths with your panties pressed to his face. Panting into them, he squeezes his dick, uses his fist to drag the slick precum from the tip of it down. He jacks it, thinking about what way he’s gonna have his slutty sister for the first time.
Your moans are heightening as he slides his fist over his dick, precum dribbling onto the bathroom counter. He fucks his fist, listening to your moans, knowing he could make you sound so much better. Knowing your pussy would feel so much better wrapped around his cock.
He hears you, again: Kat, I’m gonna cum.
You’re feeling so good, right on the other side of the shower curtain. What do you want him to do to you?
He can imagine how you look with your eyes rolling back. He lets your panties fall to the bathroom counter, freeing his hand to grip the edge of it so hard his knuckles turn white. He keeps jerking his dick with his other hand, panting, his chest heaving.
You’re starting to cum — gasping and whimpering just a couple feet away from him — O-oh, god, Katsuki, I’m cumming.
That sends him over fast. He’s swearing under his breath, with the smell of your pussy still clouding his head, jerking his dick over your panties. All the tension boils over, releases in waves of pleasure. His cum starts to spurt out — thick, dripping down his fist, coating your panties, spilling onto the bathroom counter.
And he rides it out: groaning under his breath, his eyes rolled back, his head lolling back on his shoulders. Cum keeps shooting out with each wave, more and more of it onto the counter, onto your panties, until they’re drenched.
And when it’s done, he leans forward on the counter. Catches his breath, with sweat dripping down his chest.
Before you can finish your shower, he’s wiping the cum off of the counter with your ruined panties. He puts his dick back in his shorts, slips your panties into his shorts pocket. Grabs his phone, stops the recording.
Your stepbrother slips out of the bathroom door, and by the time he hears you turn the shower off, he’s back in his room.
You finish your shower feeling absolutely filthy. So filthy that you even consider jumping back in, scrubbing your skin clean. Scrubbing all of your sins clean.
Why did you do … that?
You can barely even admit it to yourself, everything you just did. It’s sick, the way you leaned against the shower tile. The way you turned the showerhead to the massage setting and focused the stream on your clit. The way you came from imagining… him.
You’d heard all of those disgusting things your stepbrother and his friends were saying. All of the ways they’d fuck you. And you should have found it vile, because it was. If you weren’t as disgusting as them, you would have walked away and pretended they were talking about someone else.
But, instead, you listened. And, after hearing everything, you were so worked up — so tense — that you were desperate for some kind of release.
Why did you like those filthy things they were saying? It’s gross — the way you made yourself cum, thinking about all of those nasty things. The gross images in your head. The things you imagined:
You riding your stepbrother’s friend’s tongue, with him watching. His friend’s tongue on your clit, while he fucks your ass. You getting fucked doggystyle by your stepbrother, the way his fingers would feel digging into your hips. Your pussy swallowing up his dick, just like he said.
Just like he wants.
What you want, now that your head is clearer, is to erase that little mishap from your mind. The whole thing was wrong. Awful. So you decide you’ll pretend that it never happened. That you’ll forget all about it.
Yeah. That’s a good idea.
You try to forget about it as you run the towel over your body. You try to focus on something simple: just getting the water off of you. And it works.
When you’re all dried off, with the towel wrapped around you, you reach down to pick your dirty clothes up off of the ground.
You stall for a second, feeling your stomach twist. Something isn’t right. Something is missing. You rummage frantically through the pile of clothes, looking for something in particular.
But it’s no use. Your panties are gone.
Your stomach is in knots. Because, if they’re gone, that means he was here. Right here, in the bathroom, outside the shower curtain. Right here, while you were massaging your clit with the showerhead, moaning his name.
You frown. Does that pervert think you’re fucking stupid? That you won’t notice he took them?
… Does he think that you haven’t been noticing that they keep mysteriously vanishing from your laundry pile every summer?
What a fucking creep, you’re thinking. You’re trying to ignore the fact that your body seems to disagree, that you’re getting wet again. There’s no fucking way you’d get wet off the fact that your stepbrother is a panty stealer. A perv. Because what would that make you?
You exit the bathroom to see him stepping into his doorway with a towel slung over his shoulder. He’s even sweatier now, like he’s been working out hard. The veins are standing out on his forearms, on his hands. His face is flushed. His shorts are so low on his hips that it’s almost obscene.
“Took you long enough,” he says, with the most knowing smile plastered across his smug face. “What the fuck were you even doing in there, anyway?”
You gulp, speechless. So incredibly flustered. Your chest feels tight. You tighten the towel around you, feeling naked under his scheming gaze, like he can see right through the fabric.
He was there. Maybe he could hear…
What were you thinking, leaving the door unlocked? Worse — leaving it cracked open? That’s not like you. You always lock it. You must have forgotten, right?
Right. Because if you had left it open on purpose— knowing your disgusting brother wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation — that would be sick. Wrong.
“What do you think?” you retort shakily. “Showering. Fucking idiot.”
You turn away from him, storming past his room and into yours.
Once you’re in your room, you take a deep breath, listening to the racing of your own heartbeat with your back against the wall. You hear him laugh, right before his heavy footsteps recede down the hallway. He walks into the bathroom, slams the door shut behind him. The loud noise makes you wince.
You wait a second, for the little squeak of the faucet handle, and then the rush of the water coming from the showerhead. Once a few more moments have passed, you stick your head out of the doorframe. Just to make sure he’s still actually in the bathroom, and not sneaking around, like you are.
With a pounding heart, you creep out of your room and right next door, into his.
It’s surprisingly neat, for someone as disgusting as him. You glance around, then walk through the doorway. Still in just your towel. You shouldn’t be in here. And you have half a mind to leave when you see them — your panties, resting right at the top of his laundry basket. No attempt to hide them, not in the least. They’re just sitting there, soaked in cum.
You gulp, with a knot in your stomach. In just your towel, in the middle of your disgusting brother’s room. Staring at your cum-drenched panties in his basket, with your pussy dripping down your thighs.
You book it out of his room with your heart in your throat, leaving your panties right where they are.
You’re reclined on the couch, watching some nonsensical show — distracting yourself from the strange events upstairs — when Katsuki comes down the stairs.
He’s showered now; his hair is wet, and he’s running a towel through it. He’s shirtless — water droplets adorning his heavily muscled chest — wearing nothing but sweatpants and socks.
You don’t look at him for too long. It would be best to just avoid him altogether, after what happened upstairs.
But it’s hard to avoid someone when they sit right next to you. The entire couch is open; it’s huge, spacious. It practically takes up half of the massive living room. And he decides to sink into it right next to you — so close that his leg is pressing against yours.
You glance down at his lap. At his sweats. You swear that you can see the massive outline of his… his…
You can feel his eyes on you, so you meet them. Instinctively. He’s grinning down at you. He was watching you look, just now. He reaches a bulky arm over your lap, snatches up the remote, then leans back into the cushions. You watch him start to flip through the stations. Casual.
“I was watching that,” you protest shakily.
“Oh, yeah?” he leers down at you — predatory. “Maybe you should keep your eyes on it, then. Instead of staring at my —”
You shoot to your feet with a racing heart, stomping over to the kitchen.
He laughs. Amused. Stands up off the couch and walks over to the TV to turn on the Xbox.
You’re watching him warily from behind the kitchen island, like a zoo visitor studying a wild animal. Primal alarm bells are going off all over your body — nerves everywhere telling you to run.
Katsuki slips his gaming headset over his head.
While you’re trying to calm your nerves, your stepbrother is connecting to a game. His friends must already be online, because you can hear their voices start to come in through the headset immediately. They’re so loud. So obnoxious, just like him. You can hear them warbling all the way from the kitchen, even though you can’t quite make out what anyone’s saying.
Someone says something — their tone lilting up at the end. A question for your big brother, you presume.
“Not yet,” he responds.
His friend replies, and you can see from Katsuki’s face that he’s not happy with whatever was just said. It was a jab, maybe.
“I’ll fucking bet you. By today. $20.”
You don’t know what he’s betting on, and you have a feeling that it’s better if you don’t know.
You need a distraction. You need to think about something. Anything. Dinner, maybe. You turn to the fridge, tear the doors open. You’re looking through it, not really processing anything that you’re seeing.
Usually, your brother cooks dinner. Katsuki’s a good cook, surprisingly. Actually, he’s good at everything he does.
But you have a feeling, based on the fact that he’s been particularly antagonistic toward you since you got home, that he won’t be cooking anything tonight.
You’re a shit cook, but you’re thinking — maybe if the two of you just eat dinner together, like normal siblings in a normal family, it’ll make things a little less weird. You’re willing to attempt a meal if it’ll dissipate some of the tension between the two of you. If it’ll help you move past that little incident upstairs.
So, you shout over to him, “Katsuki. What do you want for dinner? I’ll make something for us.”
He’s ignoring you on purpose. There’s no doubt about it; you’d yelled loud enough for him to hear, even over the game he’s playing. But he makes no effort to respond. He just keeps playing, saying crass things into the mic as he navigates his character through a wasteland.
Katsuki shoots at anything that moves.
You shout louder. “Katsuki.”
Now you’re pissed off. Here you are, trying to do something normal — something nice. Trying to be a good sister. And he’s just ignoring you, shouting obnoxiously into the headset, not sparing you a shred of attention. Your big brother won’t even give you the time of day.
That perverted douchebag. So he’s interested in you enough to steal your panties? To cum all over them? But he won’t even respond to anything you say?
You trudge over to the couch furiously.
He ignores you even when you’re standing right beside him with your hands on your hips, like a disappointed parent. He pretends you’re not even there. Like you’re invisible. He just maintains his position: hunched over, elbows on his thighs, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as his big fingers move deftly over the controller.
“Ka-tsu-ki,” you say, pulling one side of the headset away from his ear peskily. You let it go; it snaps back onto his head.
He doesn’t like that.
He rips the headset off, pulling it down around his neck roughly. “What?” he asks, looking up at you with a nasty scowl on his face. “Fuck off. Fucking pain in my ass.”
“I’m the pain in the ass?” you say, finding his attitude absolutely unbearable. You snatch the controller out of his hands, stepping backward. “I’m trying to figure out dinner,” you snap, waving the controller in the air.
“Eat shit,” he says, sparing a glance at your skimpy shorts.
“You’re a fucking dirtbag,” you spit. “I hate you.”
You take another step backward with the Xbox controller in your hand. You have half a mind to storm back to the kitchen and throw it in the trash. But, before you can escape his radius, he’s reaching a long arm out and grabbing you roughly by the front of your tiny shirt. You mumble a little cry of protest, right before you’re wrenched violently back to him. You stumble forward, breathless, still trying to hold the controller out of his reach.
“I fucking hate you, too, squirt,” he sneers, with a big fistful of your tiny top. He has it tugged so far down that your nipples are one small movement away from being exposed.
You’re flustered, so close to him, staring right into his eyes. And, now that you’re this close, you can hear everything his friends say as they continue to talk through the headset around his neck.
“So did you jump in the shower with her?” a low voice is teasing. “Or did you miss your chance?”
A thrill runs through your chest. Your eyes widen. There’s no way. Absolutely no way that they’re talking about you, right?
He grins, knowing you can hear every word. He’s getting off on the embarrassment on your face. On the shock. You’re slack-jawed. Because, maybe on some level you suspected this and denied it. But now there’s no doubt about it. No escape.
Katsuki wrenches the controller out of your hands; the force of it makes your tits jiggle. His eyes flick downward to them, hungry.
“If that was my stepsister,” someone’s snickering over the headset.
Your brother has you by the shirt; you’re not going anywhere. His other hand is holding the controller far out of your reach. You grab for it again, unsure why you’re still fighting for it. You’re so embarrassed, so flustered. You need to stop now. Stop moving, before your tits fall out of your shirt, before you hear more of the filthy things his friends have to say about you. Before this goes somewhere it shouldn’t.
You should stop, but you don’t.
“I'd be in her room every fucking night,” says a lazy voice. “Wake her up with some dick in her cunt. Bet she’d love that.”
Your brother’s grin deepens.
“I’d fuck her so hard her mom hears her screaming,” someone else says. “You should show your stepmom what a slut her daughter is, Kat.”
Katsuki laughs, watching you struggle for the controller, watching you get more flustered with each disgusting word his friends say through the headset.
“Give it to me,” you hiss through your teeth.
You grab for it one more time, knowing it’s futile — knowing that you could never beat him, not in anything, because he’s superior to you in every way: bigger, stronger, faster, smarter. He’s levels up on the food chain. An apex predator.
He could do absolutely anything he wants, especially now: now that the two of you are all alone in this big house. Now that no one’s around to stop him. You both know that very well.
He drops the controller onto the couch on the far side of him. His huge hands envelop your hips, and then — before you even realize what’s happening — your big brother is wrestling you onto his lap.
You look at him, wide eyed, breathing hard. You’re frozen in place, straddling him, with your heart in your throat. Under your thigh — which is bare, from your tiny shorts riding up — you can feel his dick growing through his sweats. Getting hard. Getting huge.
His dick is so big — bigger than any you’ve taken. You bet…
You bet he could stretch your pussy out so well.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you stammer breathlessly.
You make a shaky, halfhearted attempt to clamber off of his lap, but he grabs your hips and slams them back down. He jerks his hips upward, pressing his stiffening dick up against you.
“You want my dick,” he says, squeezing your hips. “Don’t you?”
“I’m serious, Katsuki,” you say weakly, as one of his hands comes up to your chest, pulls your shirt down roughly. You take a shaky breath, feel him grope your tits. Squeezing, rubbing. It shouldn’t, but it feels so good — his big, rough, warm hands on you. “What… what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
You feel hazy. Your pussy is wet, dripping onto the thin fabric of your shorts. Onto his lap.
You’re not even wearing panties.
And why is that, anyway? Was it because you were waiting for something like this to happen? Because you knew how easy it would be — how tempting — for him to pull your flowy shorts to the side and get his big fingers all wet in your dripping cunt?
This isn’t right. None of it is. He’s your… your…
You can feel his cock, so hard, pressing up against his sweats. Straining against your thigh. And it’s so painfully obvious where this is going — how desperately he wants to bury his dick in his slutty little sister’s wet pussy. How much his body wants you. How ready he is to abuse you, wreck you, split you open.
You hear his friends snicker through the headset. They’ve gone silent. Listening.
You can’t help the little breathy sigh that leaves your mouth as he slips his hot hands under the loose, flowy bottoms of your shorts. The way you gasp when he grips your ass in his big, rough hands. Kneads the flesh. Rubs it.
“I heard you in the shower,” he grins.
Your stomach drops — even though, on some level, you knew.
You shake your head furiously, playing innocent, demanding, “Heard what?”
He licks his lips, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your ass. His dick twitches against the underside of your thigh. It’s so big, so thick, so hard. And you can’t stop thinking of all the girls he brings home every summer, the way every single one of them sounds like they’re having the best fuck of their life.
God, your dick is so fucking good, I’m gonna cum.
Over and over and over again.
“You know what,” he grins, shoving your hips down again. His dick presses harder into your thigh. It’s taking every ounce of willpower in you not to grind down on it. You want so badly to pull it out, feel the weight of it in your hands, get your dripping pussy all over it.
“Oh, Katsuki,” he mocks, imitating your voice. “Make me cum.”
You feel a chill roll down your spine. He laughs, watching the surprise cross your face.
“Fuck you. You’re hearing things. You’re crazy.”
“Am I?” he laughs.
Your brother pulls his phone out, where his group chat with his friends is open. Because that’s where he sent the recording of you moaning in the shower.
He presses play, and it’s you! It’s you, saying, in the most obscene, lewd voice, “I wanna cum, Katsuki.”
You catch a glimpse of his screen, and the replies to the voice recording.
thanks kat. im gonna have so much fun with this.
“I’ll make you cum, little sis,” he taunts, dropping his phone to the couch so he can bring his hands back to your ass. “You just need some dick, don’t you?”
“Shut up,” you say, so flustered. This is all so wrong: the way his left hand is digging into the flesh of your ass, the way his right is wandering, lazily, between your thighs. The way he’s moving the damp crotch of your shorts to the side, gauging your reactions closely. “Fucking — god — just fucking shut up.”
“I wanna cum, Katsuki,” he mocks. Taunts. Condescending, with the filthiest grin on his face. “You wanna cum? Huh? All over your big brother’s dick?”
Your jaw is hanging open; his fingers hover right beneath your pussy, like he’ll decide whether or not to reward you with them based on your reaction.
“You’re fucking sick,” you say. You’re shocked. Absolutely incredulous. “Listening to me in the shower,” you say breathlessly. “Recording me? Fucking creep. Weirdo.”
And then, your big brother puts his long, thick fingers on your pussy.
They’re hot. Your eyelashes flutter; he runs them back and forth over your sopping, clenching hole — teasing it, watching you gasp and writhe on his lap, watching you lose your composure because it feels so good.
“You’re — fuck, oh god — you’re insane,” you mumble.
“You were the one moaning my name,” he says, dragging his fingers to your throbbing clit. His hands are so wet, slippery with your arousal. And as soon as he gets his fingers on your sensitive, twitching clit, your eyes are rolling back.
“If you wanted to get fucked,” he says, watching the pleasure on your face, massaging your clit with practiced hands, “you could’ve just asked me. You don’t have to play games. Walking around, dressed like a fucking slut. I can make you cum. I can make you feel real fucking good, little sis. Wanna sit on my cock and find out?”
You’re embarrassed, so flustered by how blatant he is. But his hands — they’re amazing. Irresistible. The best you’ve ever had. The pressure on your clit, the speed of the little circles he’s rubbing into it. Everything’s just right.
I can make you cum.
You’re already so close.
“This isn’t…” you’re starting, through hitching breaths. Your hands are on his bare chest now; you’re looking down at his face, feverish, as he pleasures you.
Your disgusting, ravenous brother — so incredible with his fingers.
“You can admit it,” he says, moving his fingers away from your clit — neglecting it, to tease over your dripping hole. “I’ll admit it.”
Your face is close to his; you’re breathing hard now, gasping against his mouth, your lips just brushing together. Your body doesn’t care about who he is; you’re responding to him, needing him — dripping wet, your hole fluttering each time his thick fingers brush over it.
“I’ve been dying for this pussy since I first saw you,” he drawls. “Want you every fucking summer. Look at your slutty posts and think about shooting my cum in my pretty little sister’s cunt.”
An obscene moan falls from your mouth, picturing that — your pussy glistening, dripping with your brother’s sticky, hot cum.
A snicker comes through the headset, sudden. You freeze, find yourself crashing back to earth.
You’d forgotten that your brother’s friends were on the line. That they’d been listening to him finger you, getting off on it. Probably stroking their dicks on the other end. You’d forgotten how completely fucked this entire thing is.
Or maybe you hadn’t forgotten. Maybe you’d liked it, gotten off on it, just like the rest of them.
Either way. You clamber off of his lap, backing away from him as you fix your shorts.
“This is… this is fucked up,” you spit. “God. You’re fucking disgusting, Katsuki.”
He laughs, watching you back up, amused — a cat studying a bird that’s already injured beyond recovery. You half expect him to stand up and grab you; instead, he shrugs, suddenly nonchalant, returning his headset to its original place atop his head.
“Keep acting like you don’t want it, sis,” he grins, licking his glistening fingers clean. “That’s why your pussy got so fucking wet, right?”
“Fuck off,” you say shakily, turning on your heel to storm up the stairs.
“That’s why you ruined my sweats, right?” he calls after you as you stomp up them. He laughs. Loud and obnoxious and pointed.
You get up to the den, breathless, and start to pace there. You’re trying to ignore the throbbing in your clit, the wetness between your legs. You’re trying not to think about the thickness of his fingers, the heat of them — the way they’d felt so good on your clit, the way they’d feel even better pumping inside of you.
But what you really want pumping in and out of you isn’t his fingers.
God, Katsuki, your dick is so fucking good.
You shouldn’t be imagining how your own voice would sound from the next room over. How you’d be screaming if you were the one getting pounded into the mattress by your dog of a stepbrother.
You need a distraction, quick. You wish he wasn’t downstairs hogging the TV. You wish he wasn’t even here, being so disgusting. Being a total fucking creep.
You find yourself walking into your parents’ bedroom. You know that, if you go into your own, you’ll start thinking about all those sleepless nights spent listening to the moans through the wall. You’ll start thinking of how hard your brother fucks, how good his dick must be to make every girl sound like that.
At least, here in your parents’ bedroom, you can distract yourself with the huge TV they have right in front of their bed. So you grab the remote, plop onto the bed with a huff, and flick it on.
Some action movie is playing. You turn the volume up, trying desperately to pay attention, to forget all about your gross brother and the way he got you so wet. The way he gets you so wet…
The movie continues to play; the protagonist is sprinting away from some masked pursuer. But you’re not paying attention to it, like you should be. Instead, you’re thinking about his dick. The size of it. The heat of it under your thigh. What he’d said —
I’ll admit it.
I’ve been dying for this pussy since I first saw you.
Look at your slutty posts and think about shooting my cum in my pretty little sister’s cunt.
You’re imagining your disgusting brother shoving his cock deep in your cunt, unloading his cum in you, shooting you so full of it that it drips out, thick, around his dick.
You can still hear him playing his game downstairs; his deep voice reverberates through the house. You turn the TV up, trying to drown him out. But it’s not enough; you can still hear him.
You get out of your parents’ bed and slam the door shut hard. Hard enough that you know he’ll hear it. And then, when that’s done, you trudge back to the bed and climb on, propping yourself up in the pillows.
All of the chaos of this movie should be the perfect distraction, right?
So why’s it not working?
Every fucking summer. He wants you every fucking summer.
You’re thinking about the cum on your panties. The way he’d left them out at the very top of the basket, not even bothering to bury them under his other clothes. It’s almost like he’d wanted you to see. Like he’d wanted you to know that he jacked off on them. And now you’re imagining that: him stroking his dick, making himself cum, spilling it all over them.
You’re wet. Dripping. It’s useless to keep trying to deny your body’s disgusting response to him. So you’ll just have to do something about this frustration building up. You’ll take care of it now — by yourself, of course! — and deal with how fucked up it all is later. But for now, you’re letting yourself think of his dick, and how it twitched under your thigh, aching for attention.
You’re slipping your fingers down your shorts, so frustrated, dragging them through your pussy as you think about how you’d please your big brother. How much attention you’d give him. You’re soaked, slippery, just from the thought of him. A little shudder escapes your mouth as you imagine the thickness of his dick moving in and out of your pussy, his fingers around your throat, his tongue in your mouth.
I’ll make you feel real good, little sis.
He could. You bet he could. You’re so worked up, so desperate — your legs spread, your lip between your teeth as you rub your clit. In your head, there’s just him. His body glistening in sweat, droplets of it rolling down his abs. That body — so cut, powerful. Bulky, huge on top of you. You’re tightening up, pushing your fingers into your pussy, smearing the slick back on your clit.
He’d listened to you in the shower, heard all of your little moans.
He could’ve stepped in then — could’ve relieved all of this tension. Could’ve made you scream in the shower of your parents’ house. That would’ve been so good. You can imagine it, vivid:
His fingers squeezing your throat as you choke in the steam-filled air. His dick plunging into you, splitting you open. Him shooting hot cum into your pussy as scalding water rolls down your body. His lips on your ear, saying the most filthy, disgusting things.
He’d fuck you with your parents home, you bet. Your parents would ask each other — Hey, where are the kids at? And he’d be right upstairs, right above their heads — fucking you hard into the mattress, making you moan, making your pussy clench up and drip around his dick.
You whimper, soft, under your breath, as the tension builds up higher and higher.
And then, the door swings open, sudden.
You freeze. You’re caught — mid-moan, with your pussy dripping and clenching onto your fingers to the thought of him! Your half-lidded eyes widen, and you look in shock at your stepbrother’s big figure in the doorway. His eyes are on your pussy, and his face is twisting into a filthy, satisfied grin.
You slam your legs shut, grabbing the nearest pillow and putting it on your lap to cover yourself. Your chest is heaving; adrenaline is rushing through you at the sudden, unexpected intrusion.
Because it was unexpected, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like you’d left the door unlocked on purpose. It wasn’t like you’d thrown a little tantrum earlier, slamming it so loud he’d have no choice but to come up and put you in your place.
“What the fuck?” you demand shrilly. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He’s laughing, putting his big hands on the top of the doorframe — so tall that the pose is natural. He leans in, grinning, like he can read your mind and all the disgusting thoughts there.
“What?” he taunts. “Are you mad that you got caught? Knuckle deep in your slutty cunt?”
Your stomach is in knots. “Shut up,” you say, breathless. “Fucking pervert. Fucking creep.”
You’re still wet, maybe even more turned on now, your cunt pulsing, clit aching. Your pussy needs attention, the stretch of his dick in his sweats.
“Aww,” he chides, condescending. “Are you worked up after all that shit downstairs? I thought you said I’m sick? And you came right up here to rub your pussy? Why?”
You’re glaring at him, incredulous. “Can you just fuck off?”
“Did you get your nut yet?” he laughs. “Fucking your fingers like a desperate little bitch. Did you cum?”
“No,” you seethe.
He smirks. You’re embarrassed that you even answered the question, because you shouldn’t have entertained it.
“Stop fucking talking to me,” you snap. “Just get the fuck out.”
“My fingers would feel so much better, little sis,” he says, his big hands on the doorframe — his fingers spidering outward, long and thick. “I can get so much fucking deeper in that pussy.”
You gulp, squeezing your legs together. “Fuck off. Go play your stupid fucking games with your stupid fucking friends.”
His smile deepens. He lets go of the doorframe, slips his hands into the pockets of his sweats. Steps into your parents’ room, getting closer.
“I see,” he says, taking another step forward. You’re watching him approach the bed, wide-eyed. “You’re jealous. Little attention whore.”
You shake your head furiously, clutching the pillow in your lap. He grins, then snatches it away from you, laughing when you scramble backward on the bed.
“I bet you wanna feel my cock in your pussy, right?” he says, looking at the wet spot on the crotch of your shorts. His dick is hard in his sweats, thick against his thigh. “Want me to make you cum?”
“No,” you say. But you’re losing your composure fast, with your eyes glued on his dick, thinking about how much you want it pumping in and out of you. “God, no.”
“Uh huh,” he condescends.
Suddenly, he’s grabbing you by the ankles and dragging you to the edge of the bed. It’s easy for him to overpower you. Effortless. You yelp, but you don’t bother to fight back — because you know that you stand no chance when it comes to your brother.
Now you’re flat on the bed, and he’s leaning over you — getting right in your face, a nasty leer. You feel like you’re suffocating, with all of that powerful bulk hovering just over you, his big hands caging you in on either side.
“Fuck you,” you spit. “You’re such a fucking sicko.”
“Yeah,” he grins, running his fingers up your thighs — up and up and up until his fingers are pressing into your clit, rubbing over the thin, soaked fabric of your shorts. “And you’re so fucking wet for me. So what does that make you?”
“I fucking hate you.”
He fake pouts, keeps rubbing your clit through the fabric of your shorts, watching you gasp beneath him. “Look how fucking needy you are,” he’s sneering — and you’re hazy, gasping, barely hearing him say, “Your poor little pussy just needs to get filled up.”
“You’re fucking gross,” you say, breathless, all of your juices leaking out of your pussy.
He hooks his fingers over the elastic of your shorts, rips them forcefully down your thighs and drops them to the floor. You take a hitching breath and lift your head up off the bed to watch, groggily, as he leans down and drops a big, messy glob of spit on your pussy.
“G-gross,” you stammer, watching him spread his spit over your clit with his fingers, massaging the sensitive little spot until you’re shuddering. Until you’re dropping your head back on the mattress, looking up at his hungry face. “You’re disgusting,” you gasp. “You know that, Katsuki?”
“You’re the one in mom and dad’s bed,” he says, playing with your clit — watching you squirm and gasp. He trails a finger down, teases it back and forth over your dripping, sensitive entrance. “I wonder what they’d say if they found out you were just fucking your fingers on their nice sheets.”
He pushes a finger into you, watches you tremble. Watches you melt.
“You better not say anything,” you choke between breathy moans, tightening up as he slides another finger in, fucking them in and out of your pussy. He curls them upward, watches your eyes roll back, your jaw dropping open. He can feel you tightening up, getting so wet. “Y-you — god — I’ll fucking tell them about all your sicko fantasies, Katsuki. The way you — oh, fuck — the way you jerk it to my panties. Shit. Fucking creep.”
His grin widens. He’s not ashamed. Not embarrassed. He’s pleased. Like he’s been waiting for you to notice your cum-soaked panties at the very top of the laundry basket. Like he’s been waiting for you to say something about them, so he can get off on it. It’s no wonder he didn’t bother to bury them.
You can feel his dick growing, pushed up against you. He’s getting off on the disgust in your voice, on the way you moan as his fingers curl against that sensitive spot in your pussy. And, after all that resistance, and all of that denial, you finally can admit that your big brother was so right. His fingers feel so much better.
He’s so fast, so good with his fingers. They feel delicious in you, amazing. And you can’t stop thinking about all of those girls he’s fucked, the way they kept saying how fucking good he is.
So fucking good. They were right. They weren’t faking. He is so fucking good — your big brother and his amazing hands, his thick, long fingers that know just how to work your pussy and make you cum.
“So fucking tell them,” he says.
He’s got you so wet now that your pussy is squelching with each pump of his fingers — loud noises that embarrass you, that turn you on even more, that make you drip all onto your parents’ bed sheets. “Go ahead and tell mom and dad,” he taunts. “I wonder who they’d believe. You? Or me?”
And he’s right. Because your disgusting, vile big brother is smart. A genius at the top of his class, on a full ride scholarship — one of many he was offered. He’s a dog with a squeaky clean track record. His dad’s favorite, your mom’s favorite — because, despite his “slight temper” — everyone knows he’s going places.
It’s all so fucked.
You’re looking up at his ravenous face. So much anticipation. His dick on your thigh, hard and hot through his sweats. Your legs spread wide around him as you let him fuck your cunt with his fingers.
“You know what I could tell them?” he taunts — his smile wide and satisfied. “I could tell them all about how my slut of a little sister fucks herself to the thought of me in the shower. I could show them the recording. The evidence.” He laughs into your face, watching you squirm, the pleasure from his fingers building up. “Where’s your evidence, little sis? Where are your panties? I bet you couldn’t find them if you looked.”
“You’re fucking evil,” you pant. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Shut me up, then,” he grins above you. “Give me some fucking pussy. You let me fuck your cunt? I won’t say shit.”
Katsuki lowers his face to yours, swallows your hitching breaths. He’s so heavy between your legs: rubbing his dick on you, and you’re panting, euphoric.
“God,” you say, breathy.
“What do you say, sis?” he teases against your lips as he ruts his dick on your thigh. His sweats are wet with precum. Sticky. “You don’t want your mom to find out about how much of slut you are, do you? God, she’d be so fucking disappointed.”
“You disgust me,” you moan — his fingers bringing you so close, the sensation of his cock on your thigh bringing you even closer.
“All you have to do is sit there and take it,” he says. His thumb is on your clit, playing with it as his fingers plunge in and out of you, everything so puffy and slick. “Let me fuck this tight little hole.”
You’re pausing, your chest heaving, trying not to give in. His fingers in you — that’s one thing. But his dick is another.
“This isn’t fucking right, Katsuki,” you stammer weakly. You lift your head up, look between your spread legs, where he’s breathing hard, rubbing his dick on your thigh. You watch his fingers pump in and out of you, filling you up — thick and hot, glistening each time they come out. You’re tightening up; you’ll cum soon, make a mess on his fingers.
“Isn’t that what makes it so much better?” he grins.
He’s right. So you give, letting your resolve go completely.
You’re too wrapped up in the way his fingers play you just the right way, the way they’re teasing an orgasm out of you. It’s so close to the surface, and you’ve been wanting this for far too long: craving his body, dying to get fucked like all the girls he brings home. So you let yourself give in, spreading your legs wider as he fingerfucks you, working out the tension that’s been building up for the past two summers.
And now that you’re really doing this —
You bring your hand to his cock, squeeze it through his sweats. Look up at his face, as if for approval, your lip between your teeth.
“There you go,” he leers.
You slip your hand down his sweats, wrap your fingers around his dick — finally. Feel a chill running through you, your pussy getting tighter, wetter around his fingers just from the sensation of his dick in your hand. You feel it, hot, heavy in your palm, for the very first time. And you think just the sight of it could make you cum all over his fingers — precum leaking down the tip, the massive, hard length of it.
He can see it in your face: the way it contorts. He can feel it around his fingers. You’ll cum soon. And it gets him so hard to see you looking so desperately up at him. He thinks you look so cute like that: all needy, with your eyebrows all furrowed up, desperate to get filled up with his cock — just like the little slut he knows you are.
“You wanted my dick so fucking bad, didn’t you?”
You nod, running your fist down his dick, and back up. Slow, the first time, then jacking it faster.
“Fuck,” he groans.
So good. Everything about him is so good. The tension is knotted up between your thighs, aching for release. Your pussy is clenching, sopping wet — gripping his fingers hard. One more curl of his fingers, abusing that sensitive spot inside of your tightening pussy, fucking you so well, and you’re about to go over.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
You feel it building, feel all of the tension just about to release — when he pulls his dripping fingers out of you.
“Fuck,” you whine, frustrated. He loves that little pout on your face. “I was so fucking close.”
“I know,” he laughs, standing. He wipes his hand on his dick, smears all the juices from your pussy down it. Slips his sweats further down, then jerks his dick as he looks down at you from the side of the bed.
“Get on your knees,” he says. “Flip around. Show me that pussy.”
“I was so fucking close,” you protest.
“What the fuck did I say?” he sneers, standing right at the edge of the bed, using his free hand to grab your face. “Let your big brother see your cunt, Princess.”
The way he talks to you — it’s so blunt, it’s embarrassing. Shameful. But it’s all so fucked up, so disgusting — what’s one more nasty thing that gets you wet? You scrunch your nose up and grab his wrist, pulling his hand off of your face.
He’s laughing, watching you peel your shirt off and turn so you’re facing away from him. You can hear him jacking off behind you, at the edge of the bed, his precum-coated fist sliding over his cock as he watches you get on your knees, press your cheek to the sheets — face-down, ass up, just the way he likes it.
He slaps your ass hard, and you yelp, hearing his strokes get faster over his dick. Messier.
Katsuki crouches and spits on your pussy: a hot, thick, messy glob. You shudder, sloppy and embarrassed, exposed to your big brother. Listening to his pleasured breaths as he jerks off to your pussy.
“Spread your ass,” he says. “Show me.”
You’ve never been so embarrassed in your life. You’re complaining, telling him how disgusting he is, how much of a fucking dog he is — your own brother telling you to spread your cheeks. Telling him that he’s so sick that he can’t even keep his dick in his pants around his sister. But still, you’re doing it for him, letting him see everything: your glistening pussy, your juices dripping from your cunt onto your parents’ bed sheets.
Katsuki swears under his breath, jacking off to the sight of all the liquid oozing out of you. Your tight little hole. He’s thinking about how hot and wet you’ll be around his dick. How good it’ll feel when your pussy is gripping him, dripping all over him. He runs his fingers over your pussy, and it responds to him: your hole fluttering, waiting to get stretched out and bred by his dick.
His disgusting little sister.
“You’ve been hiding this pussy from me the whole time?” he says.
Katsuki’s wasted the last two summers. He sees that now. What he should have been doing is this. Playing with this wet hole every chance he got. He should’ve been sneaking into your room every night to use you, sinking his cock into you over and over again. He can’t believe he wasted his time on anyone else when this pussy was one room over.
He wants his dick coated in your juices, dripping wet.
Katsuki starts with a little lick to your pussy, gets your slick on his tongue. The taste of you is so good; it goes straight to his head, straight to his dick, a drug. And all of your embarrassed whimpers, the way your fingers dig needily into the flesh of your ass as he drags his tongue up your cunt — that’s intoxicating, too. He loves how spread open you are, because he can eat you messy. Sloppy.
He licks your clit, sucks it. Nips at it. Sticks his big tongue in your cunt, gets harder off the filthy moan that spills out of your mouth. He jacks off to the taste of your pussy, and to your little gasps, precum dribbling out of his dick and onto his hand.
More. You’re begging him for more.
So he gives it to you. Tilts his head, pushes his face deeper. Spits on your cunt again, runs his tongue over your clit. He pushes two big fingers into your dripping pussy, licks your clit at the same time.
It’s so good — his fingers fucking you, his tongue circling your clit as you spread yourself open for him. You can’t help the moans that keep spilling from your mouth. You’re loud, lewd and disgusting. You’re letting him do whatever he wants to you, no better than any of the other girls he fucks for the summer.
No — you’re definitely worse. Because you’re his sister, and you’d let him use you as nothing more than a tight hole to dump his cum in.
You’d let him enact every depraved desire on you.
And that’s what he’s doing right now: spitting on your ass, running his big tongue over it. Flicking little circles on the tight muscle, pushing his tongue against your clenching hole until it gives for him. And then he’s pushing his tongue into your ass, listening to your embarrassed cries of protest melt into fuck me, Katsuki, give me more, god it’s so good — right there. Fuck my ass, please.
Katsuki thinks his disgusting little sister tastes better than anything.
He’s not surprised you’re a slut for anal. So he gives you more of what you want: drops a big glob of spit onto his finger, eases it into your ass as he turns his head back to suck on your sensitive clit, dragging his tongue back and forth over it while he pumps a thick finger in and out of your ass.
And between laps at your clit, he’s asking you why you like all of this so much — why you love it when your big brother licks your pussy, why you love it when he fingerfucks your ass. He asks you if this is what makes a disgusting slut like you cum.
It feels so fucking good, Katsuki. So fucking good. And that’s all you can say, because the only thing on your mind is that you don’t want him to stop until you cum.
And maybe not even then.
He sticks his tongue in your pussy, drinking up your slick. Keeps pumping his finger in and out of your tight ass. Shoves another in. And then he’s licking up and down your clit, stimulating it just the right amount, because he knows how to make a pussy cum.
Your big brother is good at everything he does. Especially eating pussy.
His skilled tongue keeps playing with you, licking up all the arousal oozing out of your cunt. He eats you, fucks your ass with his fingers, until you’re drooling onto the bed sheets — your pussy dripping, quivering, right at the edge of your orgasm.
And you’re saying, over and over, Make me cum, Katsuki, make me cum, please.
He stuffs you full of his big fingers one more time, burying them knuckle deep. One more lick to your twitching clit and you’re hurtling right over the edge with a filthy moan.
Oh, god, I’m cumming, I’m - !
Like a fucking pornstar. Katsuki thinks his little sister sounds like his own personal pornstar.
Fuck, fuck - !
He feels your ass tighten. And then the muscles are contracting around his fingers, your thighs shaking, and you’re cumming right in front of his face, all spread out. He watches the slick drip out of your cunt as you cum, your slit twitching with each wave of pleasure — clenching and unclenching.
Your brother shoves his tongue in your pussy, feels it pulse as you moan, loud and obscene. He jacks his dick while you cum on his tongue, drinking up the liquid that drips out of your glistening pussy, licking up every last drop.
He keeps eating you even when your orgasm is done, keeps licking your clit until you’re begging for a second.
“Horny fucking slut,” he laughs against your pussy. “Now tell me more about how much you don’t want it.”
You choke out a nonsensical reply, trying to catch your breath as he stands, dragging his dick through your glistening pussy. Katsuki wants to feel it around his dick. He’s been waiting too long.
So he jerks his hips forward, buries his dick — for the first time — into his sister’s sopping, clenching hole. Feels it envelop him — warm, wet, and tight. Still twitching from your orgasm.
“Fuck, it’s wet.”
Katsuki feels his balls tightening up just from the feeling of sinking into your cunt for the first time. He could cum just like this — just from feeling how hot and wet you are around him. You’re so tight, squeezing all the precum out of him. Just what he’s been needing.
He fucks you, deep strokes, telling you how it’s the best pussy he’s ever been in. He can feel all of your arousal oozing out around his cock, thick at the base of it. He grips your hips, buries his dick into you over and over, fucking you so rough that you yelp, grabbing onto the sheets as he splits you open.
You’re whining about how sensitive you are, but he doesn’t care about that. He’s drunk on your pussy, feeling your walls clench and soak around his dick. He’s watching your ass bounce as he pounds into you. And he loves this position for that: the way he can see his dick sinking into you, deep. He can tell that you like it too, that you love to get fucked like this from the way you’re groaning and arching your back. From those breathless, incoherent gasps.
He’s wanted this for so long now, and it’s so fucking worth it. He wants to cum, to pump you full of it.
He grabs a fistful of your hair as he fucks you, pulling your head back. Looks down at your face: your brow all furrowed up, your eyes rolling back, practically drooling on yourself.
He watches your face as you take his dick, sees your eyelids flutter every time he buries his cock all the way in you.
“It’s — fuck, it’s so good,” you moan. “Deeper, deeper, please.”
He leans over, thrusting in deep. Tells you to open your mouth, and you do, for him.
He drops spit in your mouth, tells you to swallow it. And you do that, too, because you’d do anything for your big brother — because he’s giving you the best dick of your life.
“This is what you needed?” he pants, splitting you open. “Your brother’s dick in your pussy?”
You nod, slipping your hand between your legs to rub your clit as he fucks you. “Yes,” you moan. “I needed it so bad.”
“Needed what?” he leers, pulling your hair back harder. “Say it.”
“I needed my — my brother’s dick in my pussy,” you say, getting wet off of the filthy words, tightening up.
“Yeah?” he’s panting. “Fuck, I needed this too.”
You can hear the conflict in his voice: the relief in each stroke, slaking the tension inside of him. And the way it’s building it up at the same time, getting him closer and closer to the edge. “I needed this fucking cunt,” he’s saying. “I’ve been thinking about it all the fucking time. Every time I — fuck — every fucking time I jack off.”
“Oh, god,” you’re panting.
And then he’s getting up on the bed so he can fuck you harder, forcing you further up on it. He climbs on top of you on the mattress — dwarfs you on it.
He grips your hips in his huge hands, forcing them up until your back is bent into an arch that’s so severe it hurts. Then he’s grabbing a fistful of your hair, slamming your cheek into the mattress as he slips his dick back into your pussy.
You can’t respond, can’t form anything coherent, not with how hazy your head is. All you can do is drool onto the sheets, rubbing your clit, while he pounds into your cunt. He’s getting so deep, each thrust sloppy, squelching. His balls keep hitting your pussy, and the sounds are embarrassing to you — disgusting, but so good.
The bed is creaking so loud you think it might give. That he might break it from fucking you so hard. Beside the bed, the nightstand shakes, everything on the surface of it rattling. Your eyes keep rolling back and fluttering shut.
“Open your fucking eyes,” he says. “Look.”
You know exactly what he wants you to look at. So you open your bleary eyes, force yourself to focus on the family portrait of the four of you that wobbles on the nightstand; the frame nearly topples over with each hard thrust of his dick into your pussy.
You struggle to look at it, feeling so embarrassed as you do — like your mom can see you through it. He’s getting off on your embarrassment, loving it, his dick leaking more hot precum into your pussy.
“I bet your mom would be so fucking proud,” he’s panting, slamming his dick so deep into you that it hurts. You try to squirm away so he can’t get as deep, but he jerks your hips roughly up, back into position. “So fucking proud, if she found out her little girl was getting used like a fucking slut.”
All you can do is moan in response, crying about how deep it is. About how much it hurts. About how fucking good it feels. The pain. You’re tightening up, your toes curling. He can feel you clenching, feel you squirming each time his dick hits your cervix. But he keeps ramming into it, because the feeling of it on the tip of his dick makes him feel so good. It makes him want to dump all of his cum into you — load after hot, sticky load.
“You like taking cock in mom and pops’ bed?” he taunts, pulling your head up by the hair just to slam it back down onto the mattress. “Huh?” he sneers. “Answer me.”
Before you can even choke out a response, he’s spitting a hot glob onto your face, laughing when you flinch. And then he slams your head back down onto the sheets, and you’re moaning with spit dripping down your lips as he tells you to fucking answer him.
“Y-yes,” you stammer, your fists so tight in the sheets that they’re going numb.
“Yeah, you do,” he leers, between breathy pants. “All because you’re a dumb little slut for dick. You like this cock, little sis? Feels good? Gonna cum all over your big brother’s dick again?”
That does it — you’re moaning as all of the tension releases again, and he feels it. That tight squeeze right before the tension bursts and you start to cum on him. Again. “Fucking filthy,” he groans. “There you fucking go.”
He has to keep himself from cumming as he watches your orgasm rip through you, as he feels it: your walls getting wetter, gripping his dick over and over.
“Fuck,” he pants. “This pussy feels so fucking good.”
He fucks you through it, and he pulls out when you finish, your slick dripping off his cock and onto your skin while he watches your used hole twitch. He listens to you whimper as you come down, almost on the verge of tears — so much pleasure it hurts.
He slaps your hole with his dick, then shoves it in deep again, groaning when you cry out — getting off on you whining about how sensitive you are, the way you tremble under him and around him. Ruined.
Your head is off the mattress, and you’re whining, panting, about how it’s so sensitive.
Katsuki places a big hand on the back of your neck and slams your face into the mattress.
“Shut the fuck up,” he sneers, smashing your face down into the sheets. You can barely breathe; he keeps you pinned there. “This is what you wanted, right?” he says — shoving his dick against your cervix. “You wanted my dick, right? This is what you were begging for in the shower, right?”
Katsuki doesn’t care how sensitive you are. He’s not done with you.
“Yes, fuck,” you’re mumbling, so overstimulated. Your cunt is puffy, sensitive from cumming so many times.
“I’m gonna dump all my cum in your cunt,” he sneers, squeezing your neck. “And you’re gonna take it.”
“Oh, god,” you stammer, because now — now, he’s hitting just the right spot, and that sensitivity is feeling so good.
“Tell me you’re gonna let me use you until I cum.”
“Y-yeah,” you choke between moans. “Use me. Fuck, it feels so good —“
“Atta girl,” he says. Breathy. “Such a fucking slut for your big brother, aren’t you?”
You are. It’s clear from what you’re doing right now: biting your lip, letting him hit you so deep, rubbing your clit. You can feel him getting close, hear it in his heavy breaths. His dick is starting to twitch inside of you; his thrusts are getting deeper, more erratic.
“You’ve been such a good little sister for me,” he pants — euphoria in every breath. “Letting me use your cunt. I better give you something in return, right?”
You’re so perfect around him: tight, wet. So hot. He’s been waiting so long for this, and now that he has you under him — he wants to fill you up. To breed you. To dump all of his cum in you. He’s going to make up for all of the summers he’s wasted.
He’ll give you so much cum — the perfect reward for a slut like you.
“Are you gonna — fuck, Katsuki, fuck — are you gonna pull out — ?”
You should know better. He’s already pushing your face down into the sheets, forcing your hips further up so he can fuck you deeper. He leans over, crushing you under his weight, his head dropping to your neck as his thrusts lose their rhythm.
He breathes hard, digs his teeth into your shoulder until you cry out. And he gets deep, thrusts in hard and stays there, pressed against your cervix. Bites down harder, feeling the tension boil over.
“Are you — ?” you start shrilly.
But he’s already cutting you off with a low moan. “Oh, fuck.”
You feel his dick twitch again, right before he shudders, unloading deep in your pussy without warning.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” he says — pumping his cum into you. Hot spurts against your cervix as you pant into the mattress, rubbing your clit. “Feels so fucking good.”
He thrusts several times as he rides his orgasm out, filling you up, cum gushing out of your cunt and onto his dick with each little jerk of his hips, each movement punctuated by a pleasured groan.
He’s euphoric — high on the feeling of you clenching around him, high on that little gasp of surprise as you feel his cum shooting into your pussy.
“Fucking — fucking asshole,” you moan, feeling so full of it. It dribbles out of your cunt, rolls down the outside, hot and sticky. “God, you’re fucking gross,” you pant, like you’re not getting off on the feeling of his dick twitching each time more cum shoots out. Like you don’t love the feeling of being stuffed so full of his cum that it leaks out of you, dribbling onto your parents’ bed sheets.
Then he’s pulling out, slamming you onto your back — so hard it knocks the breath out of you.
You’re groggy, hazy as he brings his face between your legs. You watch, wide-eyed, as your disgusting brother kisses your cum-drenched clit. He looks at your pussy — at all of the cum dripping out there — and then up at you.
“Look at you,” he says. “You’re such a fucking mess.”
You know you are. You can feel it, all of the cum dripping out of your slit and down, onto your ass. He brings his fingers to your cunt, pushes them in. Watches the cum gush out around them.
He takes them out of your pussy, brings them up to his face. And then, your vile, filthy brother grins up at you and licks his own cum off of his fingers. You’re staring down at him, slack-jawed, while he lowers his mouth to your cunt and starts to slurp his own cum out.
And the whole time, you’re telling him how nasty he is. How absolutely disgusting it is that he gets off on shit like this. But you can’t help the way you’re losing your nerve, spreading your legs wider for him to eat you deeper, your toes curling. Because he’s eating you so sloppy, lapping at your clit — messy and enthusiastic as he spreads his cum around with his tongue, stroking his dick at the same time.
He slurps at your hole, gets a mouthful of his own cum. And then he’s climbing up over you, his bulk making you sink further into the mattress. He wraps his fingers around your throat, brings his other hand to your mouth to pry it open.
You know what he wants, and you can see that he has a mouthful. So you open your mouth, stick your tongue out for him.
He lowers his face, spits the cum out. A big, hot glob on your tongue. Licks his lips off and says,
“Keep it there while I fuck you.”
So you do. While he slots his cock over your pussy again, rubbing the leaking tip of it back and forth over your clit, you keep it on your tongue. As you pant, some of it seeps off. You feel droplets of it running down your throat; some runs down your chin, mixing with your spit.
He shoves his dick back in your pussy, fucks the mixture of spit and cum into you as you watch him groggily, trying to hold the cum on your tongue. The impact of each thrust has some of it dripping off. And you keep panting, moaning, through your open mouth. You’re drooling onto your chin, swallowing little rivulets of cum.
“You’re fucking wasting it,” he sneers. “Stupid little bitch. Guess I better give you more, right?”
You moan something. Nothing coherent, with your tongue sticking out of your mouth. His face comes crashing down to yours, and you feel his tongue: eager in your mouth, licking the cum off of your own. Swallowing it.
With the taste of cum still lingering on your tongue and his, he hauls you on top of him — your back pressed to his chest. His big hands envelop your tits, squeezing them so hard you cry out. But you don’t even have time to process that sensation, because he’s already shoving his dick in your pussy from beneath you, sudden and deep.
“You’re gonna take more cum, huh?” he says into your neck, stretching you again, thrusting in deep. “I want your cunt so fucking full of my cum.”
He licks his fingers, brings them — wet, hot, and rough — to tweak your nipples. He gropes you as he fucks you — pinching your nipples. Slapping your tits, squeezing them, rubbing them. Abusing them until you’re whimpering.
You’re so sensitive everywhere, your obscene moans filling the air of your parents’ bedroom, your stepbrother stuffing your pussy full in their bed. And you’re enjoying yourself so much — dripping all over his balls, as you hurtle toward another orgasm.
“Tell me again how disgusting I am,” he’s saying breathily into your neck. “How sick. Little fucking whore. Look at you now.”
“Fuck you, fuck you,” you shudder, as he rubs your tits. He knows exactly how to touch them, just like every other spot on your body. Exactly what sensation makes you tighten up.
“I knew you’d be a good fuck, little sis,” he’s saying into your neck, bringing one hand between your legs to slap your clit. He laughs when your hips jerk up from the sensation, slaps it again. “All my friends want a piece. But I told them I was gonna try you out first.”
“The lot of you,” you choke. “You’re all fucking disgusting.”
You act like you don’t want it — like the thought of your brother’s vile friends ruining you right after him doesn’t get your heart racing. Like you don’t want to be passed around, filled up, over and over and over.
“And look how disgusting you are,” he’s panting. “How filthy.” Each word punctuated by a hard thrust — and each thrust causing cum to gush out of your pussy, dripping down his dick. “Your cunt’s a fucking mess.”
With one hand groping your tits, he brings the other to his mouth, licks his fingers. And when they’re all coated in his spit, he brings them down to your pussy, shoves them into you — beside his dick, stretching you more, filling you more. He forces them in, fucks them in and out of your pussy right next to his cock.
You’re so stretched out on top of him. Euphoric, full.
He brings his fingers back out of you, up to your face. Shows you how slick they are, how they’re coated in cum — swiped from your insides, remnants of his last load.
You do, and when you do — you get a mouthful of his messy, cum-covered fingers. A mouthful of yourself, and him. The taste of it sends you reeling, more tension building up fast. He shoves his fingers down your throat, makes you gag and choke on them.
“You’re getting so fucking tight,” he pants, taking his fingers out of your throat. “You like getting filled up by your big brother’s dick that much? Are you that much of a disgusting slut?” he asks, as you gasp for air. “Are you gonna cum again? Huh?”
“Y-yes,” you stammer, yelping as he grabs your head by the hair, yanking your head back roughly. And now, with your neck arched back painfully over his shoulder, he sneers against the side of your face —
“I bet you’d like it if I filled this cunt up again, wouldn’t you? You want another load in your pussy?”
“You’re fucking sick,” you moan — breathing hard, with his dick hitting a perfect spot inside of your pussy, massaging it with each thrust. “What if I get p—”
“Yeah, what if?” he says. “What if I empty my balls into your cunt? Fill this pussy up again? What if I get you all fat with my kids? What if, little sis?”
His words are disgusting — delicious, especially combined with the feeling of his cock stretching you out, filling up your needy, messy cunt. He brings his spit-covered fingers down to your clit, rubs it, gets you moaning. He knows you can’t respond — that you’re too drunk on pleasure to talk back anymore.
“What would you tell mom?” he sneers into your ear. “What do you think pops would say?”
He wraps one hand around your throat, squeezes your neck hard — until you’re squirming. Until you’re gasping for air, with his other hand abusing your clit. There’s so much pressure in your head; you’re choking, listening to his low voice in your ear.
“Do you think anyone would be surprised?” he’s saying between messy thrusts, his deft fingers getting you closer and closer to cumming again.
“You’re just a filthy whore,” he pants. “Everyone knows it. You fuck every guy you see.” He shoves his dick in deep — so deep, holding it there, pressed up against your cervix, letting out a breathy, pleasured groan. “Fuck,” he shudders. “Could be anyone’s kid. Definitely not mine.”
You’re getting closer and closer, with one of his hands toying with your clit and the other choking you. He knows you’re going to cum again from the way your back arches off his abdomen. So he picks up his speed, fucks you harder: splits you open over and over again, as you gasp for air.
“God, it feels so good, Katsuki,” you choke groggily, sounding just like all of the other girls he’s fucked. “Make me cum, make me cum, I’m gonna cum again — please.”
Both of his big hands grip the bottoms of your thighs, spreading them wider. He digs his fingers in, hard. “You wanna cum again for your big brother?” he sneers into your ear.
You nod. Murmur a tearful affirmation as you turn your head to the side, looking at his feverish face. You beg for it: hard, Katsuki. Fast. More.
He kisses you messily, sticks his tongue in your mouth. And he murmurs, between spit-laced kisses, “You’re gonna make a fucking mess on me?”
“Fuck, yes,” you’re drooling into his mouth — barely coherent, because he’s hitting every spot perfectly. And he’s doing it right here: right in the middle of your parents’ bed, with your legs held wide open and his feet planted on the mattress so he can thrust up harder. It’s disgusting, messy: cum dribbling out of you, onto his balls, and down onto the sheets.
He grips your thighs harder, shoving his dick into you over and over. You can tell, from the way his breaths come quick, his hazy groans — he’s close.
You came on him so many times, and your pussy is so wet — ruined, abused, as he keeps shoving his dick into you. You’re filthy, so nasty. Katsuki feels your pussy pulsing, feels you getting closer, squeezing his dick. And he thinks he can get you even filthier. Even wetter. Even nastier.
Katsuki wants to make you squirt, and he knows how to do it.
So, while you’re moaning, rubbing your clit, your brother pauses. Keeps his hips still, and just talks filth into your ear, getting you so worked up instead. His hands come to your waist, squeezing, holding you still — keeping you from moving your desperate body up and down his cock to make yourself cum.
He knows how to get girls dripping without even moving. Knows just what to say to get juices oozing down his cock. So he talks to you until the base of his dick is coated in slick. Messy, just how he likes it.
And then — you’re so worked up from his words alone, begging him to fuck you again.
Please. Please fuck me.
He doesn’t move, just keeps teasing you — a steady stream of filthy words, his hands tight on your waist to keep you from moving. He feels you tighten around him, feels your back arching, feels you start to cum just from his words.
I’m - ! Fuck!
Once your pussy is already contracting — that’s when your brother starts to move. He sticks two big fingers in your cunt, deep, massaging that spot at the front of your clenching walls, pumping his dick into the same hole, his thumb flicking your clit at the same time.
Katsuki’s never met a bitch that won’t squirt for him.
It hits you fast. It’s like your orgasm is starting all over. All of these sensations coming together: his dick hitting you deep, his fingers on that delicious spot inside of you, his thumb on your clit. There’s an unfamiliar pull in your pussy, tension building up fast and then bursting.
Kat, fuck it feels - ! Oh, god, I think - !
“Make a fucking mess,” he’s saying, still curling his fingers, still thrusting into you deep. He feels your cunt pulse, then there’s a second delay. He hears you whimper. Your toes curl, your head lolls back on your shoulders, and then it really hits you.
Liquid spurts out of your pussy, drips down his dick, drenching it.
Katsuki’s never met a bitch that won’t squirt for him — not even his little sister.
He fucks the squirt out of you — liquid gushing out around his cock as you cry out. He’s trying not to cum from your loud, obscene moans, and from the amazing feeling of the hot liquid rushing down his dick.
“Fuck,” he pants breathily. “Ah, fuck.”
He lifts you up off of his dick for a split second, breathing hard. If he stays buried in your wet cunt he’ll cum, and he wants to fuck you a little more first. So he gives you a second, lets you shake and gasp as he hovers you right over his glistening dick.
Liquid keeps gushing out of you in short bursts with each wave of pleasure racking your body, spraying down onto his dick. He drops you back down on it, groaning when he feels your contracting walls envelop his dick again.
“God, you fucking slut — oh, fuck, it’s wet.”
He thinks your moans sound so good, so nasty. Your squirt keeps coming out in short bursts, and he keeps curling his fingers in your pussy beside his dick, massaging that spot at the front of your walls — urging more and more liquid out of you. It drenches his fingers, drips down his dick, mixing with the cum coating his shaft. He can feel it all dripping down his dick, onto the sheets below both of you, ruining them.
“Fucking filthy,” he pants, trying to stave his orgasm off.
The amount of liquid gushing out of you, wetting his fingers, his lap — it’s so much. The way your pussy is pulsing around his dick, on his fingertips. You’re so filthy, messy — the nastiest bitch he’s ever had.
But it’s not enough; he wants to fill you up, to give you more, get you even messier.
He feels his balls tightening up, the muscles in his lower stomach clenching. He bites his lip, tries to hold off for a little more so he can keep fucking you. But it feels too good; his eyes are rolling back, and his hips are losing their rhythm.
It’s all too much. Your exhausted, pleasured whimpers. All of the warm liquid coating his dick. And you — his sister — taking his cock so deep, squirting all over him.
“I’m gonna — shit,” he pants, gritting his teeth, his head dropping back onto the mattress. “I’m gonna give you another fucking load.”
It’s too much; the tension is about to burst.
He’s about to go over, feeling your cunt pulsing around his twitching dick. And he’s groaning — fucking you so hard and fast that the bed sounds like it might give, that the happy family photo on the nightstand goes crashing to the floor.
You just keep provoking him, moaning, obscene, like the slut you are, panting — fill me up, give it to me, give it to me, fuck me.
“Take my cum,” he’s panting, losing it — shoving his cock deep in your pussy, all the way up against your cervix. He lets out a deep groan, feels the cum start to shoot through his dick. Pleasure crashes through him, works all of the tension out of his body. He fills you up: sticky, hot spurts of cum that mix with all of your juices, coating your puffy insides and spilling out around him with each pump. “Fucking take it all.”
And you just keep begging through it — “Fuck me, Katsuki, fuck me harder, I want more cum.”
So he gives his slutty little sister what she wants — more cum, more dick, more pleasure — fucking you as the pleasure rolls through him. He holds your waist tight — your back arched as he pumps into you, listening to your whimpers as he empties every single drop of his cum into your warm, wet hole. He fucks you even when his orgasm is over, shuddering, overstimulating his dick with each stroke.
And then, when he’s all done, and you are too — sighing, shuddering — he lays his arm across your stomach and pushes you down so your back is flush against his chest. He doesn’t want you moving, not yet — so he keeps you still, plugged full of all of his hot cum.
He kisses your neck — his tongue hot, messy on your skin — and his hands come to your tits, massaging them. You’re sensitive everywhere, shivering.
“What do you say?” he drawls into your neck as you come down. “Now that your big brother got you nice and filled up?”
“Thank you,” you mumble, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of his big fingers teasing your tits before you have to forget that any of this ever happened.
“That’s a good little fuck toy,” he laughs against your neck — condescending, as big an asshole as ever.
You frown, making a move to get up and off of him — remembering, suddenly, the gravity of everything you’ve just done — and how gross your stepbrother is.
He bars his arm across your chest, slamming you back down against him.
“Where do you think you’re going, squirt?” he grins into your neck.
“What the fuck do you mean?” you snap.
Over your own voice, you can hear a loud car coming down your street. That engine sounds familiar, somehow — like you’ve heard it before. The driver, whoever it is, is blasting the same kind of obnoxious, bass-heavy music that your brother listens to.
Katsuki glances at the clock on the nightstand.
“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier?” your brother says into your neck. You can hear the smile in his voice.
You think you recognize the sound of that car. You think that you can place it, now.
You recognize the sound of that car from a family gathering some time ago — when Katsuki invited his obnoxious friends over.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Outside, the driver of the loud car shuts the ignition off. You hear several doors open, then slam shut. Several deep voices start to converse as they approach the house. And they all sound terribly familiar.
Now that you’re nice and ruined — and now that his friends are here, punctual for the first time in their lives — your big brother says,
“I told you all my friends wanted a piece.”
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Serendipity | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲: 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞, 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲
Hi! This is my contribution to my first ever Anilysium collab. The prompt was band AU’s and I was very lucky to be allowed to write for Bakugou. Please check out all the other amazing creators here.
I was already late for this collab and I don’t have the balls to ask any of my friends to go through 16k of my shit so unedited/unbeta’d, pls don’t question me-
Pairing: drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader
Warnings: 18+, sex with feelings, soft sex, unprotected sex, creampie, face-sitting, spanking, praise. As vanilla as sex can be with Bakugou~
Word Count: 16.1k.
Thank you to @/rat-zuki for making the edit in the banner for me. The emo to my goth the MCR references were for you.💕
New tweet from Y/N [5:05PM]: A brand new EP from upcoming band No Heroes, another mainstream pop-punk album to put on when you’ve finished listening to good music and you want a change.
“Mainstream pop-punk.” Bakugou reread the tweet that had flashed up on his screen, brows furrowed in irritation as he took in each word, “mainstream?”
“Aw man, I was really hoping she’d like it. She did an amazing review on Mindjack’s new song last week. He got a review with Spotify after that.” Kirishima sulked as he read the words on the screen behind Bakugou, watching the tweet slowly begin to gain hearts and retweets.
No Heroes had been a relatively small band a month ago, still playing songs in their garage as they practically pleaded for venues to let them play. Losing count of the number of shows they did for free as they tried to make a name for themselves. It helped that they had managed to gather up a cult online following to try and reach their dreams, hundreds of loyal fans finding them online as they began streaming their music and begging the men to play in their town. The first twenty-four hours of their latest album release had gone perfectly, rave reviews appearing all over the internet about this new band dominating the scene.
All except the one that you’d just posted.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ message her.” Bakugou snarled, fingers already moving to click onto your profile picture, a crowd shot from a live music venue.
“Kats, you can’t make a burner account to send her shit, dude. She’ll work it-“
“Burner? Who the fucks makin’ a burner I’m just gonna message her.” Bakugou’s fingers were already clicking the touchpad roughly, following the link to your private messages on Twitter.
Kirishima hovering over his best friend as he watched his digits angrily jab at the keyboard, wincing at the unforgiving plastic as it quaked under his aggressive touch.
“I don’t think you can say that, man. I mean- she is entitled to her opinion. And didn’t you see the review New Noise gave us? It was glowing.” Kirishima pressed a reassuring palm to Bakugou’s shoulder that was swiftly shrugged away.
“She’s entitled to her opinion, but it’s fuckin’ wrong.” Remaining hunched over the laptop as he finished composing his message before clicking send.
Flopping down onto your bed after a long day you pulled your phone out of your pocket to check your notifications, preparing to clear out your inbox of any unsolicited messages. Most from fans of you, or fans of the bands you reviewed. Rolling your eyes as you noticed a slew of new private messages from multiple people, a lot seemed to have the signature No Heroes profile pictures so you knew exactly why they were messaging. Clicking onto one of the top ones as you opened the message to read its contents.
New reply from N0HER0EZ [5:10PM]: No Heroes are amazing and I think you need to give the album another review because you clearly didn’t listen to it.
Shaking your head as you moved to click the next one, already preparing for a similar message when you noticed their profile picture was the lead singer of No Heroes.
New reply from DYNAMIGHTNH [5:10PM]: No Heroes are the best band to ever exist and they don’t need your stupid reviews for validation.
Deciding to just clear out your inbox of the rest of the messages as you kept clicking through, swiping your thumb across your screen to delete each one. Your hand lingering over the glass screen at the sight of one in particular
New reply from OfficialDynamight [5:11PM]: Are you listening to the right fucking album? You can’t call us mainstream pop-punk when your favourite artist is Mindjack. I’d hate to see your Spotify playlist.
You had to do a double-take to believe who the message was from, even clicking onto his profile to see whether it was legit. And sure enough, the signature profile picture of Bakugou Katsuki flashed in front of your eyes, two small metallic studs sitting below his lower lip as he gave a cocky smirk, flipping off the camera with a tattooed hand. There was no way of denying he was attractive, the sight of him alone almost made you want to like No Heroes, but he was clearly a jerk.
Scrolling through his Twitter as you looked at the most recent posts. His pinned message is an announcement about the new EP and a single with a link to download it. The comments and likes were more than consistent for an upcoming band, really impressive actually. Of course, it was easier to gain traction when the band members are attractive. Remembering how quickly Dabi managed to reach the top of the metal scene after he released his first EP with the most recognisable voice.
Reading his most recent tweets you couldn’t help but smile at the irate tone that was so easy to convey even through text. You could practically hear the seething tone of his voice as your eyes read over the message.
New tweet from OfficialDynamight [5:12PM]: @Y/N doesn’t know what she’s fucking talking about. Our new EP is the best pop-punk album of 2021.
The comments beneath were mostly loyal fans agreeing, complimenting the drummer for the music and talking about their favourite songs. One in particular catching your eyes.
New reply from KatsukiBangMyDrums [5:13PM]: My favourite song is your part on “No Love” I’d love to hear more of you actually singing Katsuki💕
You reread the tweet in shock, that was Bakugou’s voice on that track? Truthfully the album hadn’t been all that bad, but a lot of the songs not really standing out to you. But that song— that song you could remember vividly. If you had to pick anything from the album that would be the song you chose as the best one. Moving back to the private message you began to type a reply to Bakugou.
Y/N [11:23PM]: I didn’t say your album was bad! I just think it wasn’t that different to the others out there right now.
OfficialDynamight [11:23PM]: Oh yeah? Maybe you should listen again because you clearly weren’t listening to the right album.
You were surprised to get a message back so quickly, especially since it had been hours since his last tweet.
Y/N [11:24PM]: I’m pretty sure I was, I clicked the cute little link at the top of your bands Twitter to download it and everything.
OfficialDynamight [11:24PM]: Yeah, well do me a favour and get your ears checked.
Y/N [11:25PM]: I’ll put it on my to-do list.
You cuddled back against your pillows as you found yourself staring at your screen waiting for him to type back, over-analysing your message as you regret your words. Leaving such a closed-ended response that made it difficult for him to come back with any kind of conversation but to your surprise, he actually responded.
OfficialDynamight [11:26PM]: What you doing up so late anyway? Can’t sleep because you’re thinking about how dumb your review was?
He was so petty, his message actually made you smirk at your phone screen as you typed a reply.
Y/N [11:26PM]: No, I was actually at a gig. I’m just finishing up my notes for my review tomorrow.
OfficialDynamight [11:26PM]: What show?
Y/N [11:27PM]: Title Fight. They were so fucking good!
OfficialDynamight [11:28PM]: You mean to tell me that you like Title Fight but you don’t like us? There’s something wrong with you.
Y/N [11:28PM]: Nah, I just like good music ;)
OfficialDynamight [11:28PM]: Fuck you.
Y/N [11:29PM]: Right back at you! <3
OfficialDynamight [11:29PM]: You wish.
You laughed at his reply, finally moving to your notes to type up the final few you wanted to add from the show in preparation for your review tomorrow. Plugging your phone in to charge as you settled down to sleep, your heartbeat racing as you replayed your conversation with Bakugou in your head.
Sunlight slowly illuminated your bedroom as peaceful chirps sounded from outside, your eyes fluttering open as you felt your duvet trying to pull you back into slumber. Squinting your eyes as you looked at your phone screen for any new message notifications as you tried not to feel disappointed when you didn’t see any from the one person you were hoping may have sent you something. Pulling your covers tighter around you as you aimlessly scrolled through your notifications, enjoying the warmth of your bed for as long as possible before the need to function overtook you. Over exaggerating a stretch before you slipped out of bed, padding your way towards your bathroom as you got ready for your day.
There was something about the warm scent of coffee and caramel in the morning that just helped start your day, brewing a fresh ground roast as you waited for your laptop to boot up. Opening your phone to your notes app as you began to read through the points you’d made the evening before, figuring out what you wanted to put into the review as the notes brought memories flooding back.
Sitting down at your desk with your large mug of coffee as you began to type. The hardest part of your reviews was always choosing what photographs to use, the picture alone could sway the entire article. There had been images you’d managed to capture at shows before that had ended up being so popular the boost from them was overwhelming. Helping you to find new audiences each day and new musicians to interview and watch, remembering the time that Deku’s band OFA had chosen one of your crowd shots to be on their t-shirts.
Not even a minute after you posted your review a comment appeared underneath from the drummer of No Heroes, the corner of your lip curling into a smile as you clicked to open his new message.
New reply from OfficialDynamight [10:34AM]: This band fucking sucks, way too many high-hats in every song, you can’t even hear the track over the auto-tune. I thought you liked good music?
You were already about to type a reply when you saw a new incoming message appear on your screen and you shamelessly clicked onto it, completely uncaring about how eager you appeared to see a notification from him.
OfficialDynamight [10:34AM]: How the fuck do you like all these shitty bands that aren’t even that good but you don’t like us?
Y/N [10:35AM]: What are you talking about? Their new single is so good! Have you heard the riff in the interlude?
OfficialDynamight [10:35AM]: The only redeeming feature over the shitty fucking drum solo.
The more Bakugou began to message you, the more you found yourself wanting to post. Deliberately trying to find bands or musicians that you could happily talk about that would bring the angry blond rushing back into your inbox. Each time you posted about a new song or band Bakugou would be straight back into your private messages to give his own opinions. You couldn’t deny the way it made your heart race each time you saw an incoming notification for him, finding yourself turning on alerts for his messages so you wouldn’t miss them.
New tweet from Y/N [4:03PM]: If New Heroes stopped trying to replicate every other pop-punk band ever they might actually be good.
New reply from OfficialDynamight [4:06PM]: If you got your ears tested people might actually care about your opinion.
New reply from Y/N [4:06PM]: my ears are fine, that’s how I know it sucked ;)
New reply from OfficialDynamight [4:07PM]: Wrong.
It was almost a running joke between your fans, the comments flooding in around your petty public arguments as people were quick to weigh in on the messages.
New reply from Poppunkprincess [4:05PM]: Just admit they’re your guilty pleasure already.
New reply from Dynamightdrums [4:11PM]: I agree with @OfficialDynamight you need your ears tested they are the best band in the WORLD
New reply from Cellophane[5:10PM]: If we kick @OfficialDynamight from the band will you like us?
New reply from Chargebolt[5:23PM]: @cellophane great idea bro, maybe then @Y/N will come to a show ;)
New reply from OfficialDynamight [5:30PM]: @chargebolt @cellophane fuck you.
Each moment you posted something new about No Heroes Bakugou always seemed to be one of the first to comment, almost as though he had your post notifications on too.
New tweet from Y/N [8:49PM]: Deathcab for Cutie - I will follow you into the dark really is one of the greatest songs of all time.
New reply from OfficialDynamight [8:50PM]: Thank FUCK, you do have a brain cell.
New reply from Y/N [8:51PM]: Are you being nice to me for once?
New reply from OfficialDynamight [8:52PM]: No, it just means you’re not a complete idiot.
New reply from Dynamightdrums [8:53PM]: OMG @OfficialDynamight and @Y/N?
New reply from RedRiot [9:05PM]: @OfficialDynamight I wish you’d say this to me sometime 😭
It was difficult not to notice how big No Heroes were becoming in the local music scene, their follower count online steadily rising as they began slowly inching up the alternative chart. You couldn’t deny it was impressive for such a new band to be so successful in such a short period of time, and it probably helped that they were all gorgeous. You couldn’t help but visit Bakugou’s Instagram profile regularly, checking his new posts as you looked through the pictures of him on stage. The pure focus and determination on his face as he hit his sticks against his drum kit was hard not to applaud. Feeling your heartbeat increase whenever you noticed a new photograph, pinching the screen to get a closer look at the array of tattoos that littered his body.
Another message from Bakugou distracted you from your blatant objectification and it made you flush, thinking that he could see exactly what you were doing and wondering what he’d do if he knew you were looking at pictures of him right now.
OfficialDynamight [11:23PM]: So what’s your favourite song on our EP?
Y/N [11:24AM]: I don’t have one :(
OfficialDynamight [11:25PM]: I forgot you have no taste, shitty woman.
Y/N [11:25AM]: Or maybe you just need to write some better songs
OfficialDynamight [11:26PM]: I wrote almost every song on the EP, dumbass. That’s how I know they’re good.
Y/N [1127PM]: Okay, so my favourite is the one you didn’t write.
OfficialDynamight [11:27PM]: Piss off.
You laughed at his response as you closed the window, shamelessly going back to his Instagram profile to look through more photos. One particular promotional shot had become your favourite, a picture of him shirtless against a plain black backdrop. The image had been edited to black and white as it showed off the beautiful contrast of ink against his skin and the lack of a shirt gave you an even better opportunity to map out the sharp contours of his chest. Even with the greyscale picture, you could still see his sharp, piercing gaze even though his vermilion orbs were muted. It felt like he was staring directly at you through the image and it was difficult to deny that he was gorgeous.
You couldn’t work out why he was so interested in your opinions? There were hundreds of blogs out there dedicated to his band, massive music accounts and other reviewers praising their songs so why did your opinion matter so much?
“It’s because he likes you, duh.”
Mina’s words rang in your ear as you remembered what she had said to you when you’d first told her about Bakugou messaging you. Your best friend was always honest to a fault in her opinions,
“He doesn’t care about anyone else’s opinion because he wants you to like him.”
Keeping that image of him in your mind as you locked your phone and prepared for bed, leaving it charging on your bedside table as you settled back beneath your covers. The only thoughts flowing through your mind were those of Bakugou Katsuki.
Maybe you liked him too?
A shrill vibration woke you up in the morning as you raised your phone with squinting eyes to check the time, 7.49am.
Who was even up this early?
Your phone buzzing again with another message from the same person, you should have known it had to be someone annoying messaging you so early in the morning.
OfficialDynamight [7:48AM]: Oi
You almost rolled your eyes at the greeting you were met with first thing in the morning, squinting your eyes as the bright screen illuminated and hindered your vision, watching the little notification at the bottom of your screen that indicated that Bakugou was typing.
OfficialDynamight [7:49AM]: You sleep so fucking long, shitty woman.
Official Dynamight [7:49AM]: You know that?
OfficialDynamight [7:49AM]: So when you gonna write something good about us?
The message was accompanied by a screenshot of a gig poster, a graphic of No Heroes band logo in the middle as in big bold writing it showed ‘HEADLINE SHOW: SOLD OUT.’ It was hard not to feel happy for him, it seemed like the band were following their dreams and succeeding, but you were still content with pushing his buttons.
Y/N [7:52AM]: When you finally start making some good music
You smirked at your response as you let your phone flop to the side of the bed, reaching your arms above your head to stretch. Already knowing that Bakugou would be absolutely seething once he read your message, the quick succession of vibrations from your phone evident that he was irate.
OfficialDynamight [7:52AM]: Piss off.
OfficialDynamight [7:53AM]: You know how many bands have actually sold out that venue?
Anyone else texting you multiple messages like this would have been blocked and ignored immediately, but something was endearing to you when Bakugou did it. As though you could feel the way his thoughts flowed out, feeling every bit of emotion through the screen as you watched him continue to type.
OfficialDynamight [7:54AM]: You really don’t know good music, do ya?
OfficialDynamight [7:54AM]: I bet you’re one of those people that think The Black Parade is the greatest album of all time too huh?
Of course he was a My Chemical Romance fan, your fingers already gliding across your phone screen as you typed a response, unable to hide the smile on your face.
Y/N [7:55AM]: It’s a great album actually, but Three cheers will always have top spot in my heart
His next words shouldn’t have made you feel quite so delirious but you found yourself re-reading them as though he’d just proclaimed his love for you.
OfficialDynamight [7:56AM]: Oh, so you’re not a complete dumbass after all.
There was no way of denying it, you were falling for Bakugou Katsuki.
OfficialDynamight [1:02AM]: It’s so fucking weird there’s just something about talking to you?
OfficialDynamight [1:02AM]: I dunno, I can’t fucking explain it.
Y/N [1:03AM]: Bakugou, have you been drinking?
You squinted at the time stamp on the message, seeing that it was close to two in the morning, the messages continuing to come in from Bakugou.
OfficialDynamight [1:04AM]: Fuck off.
OfficialDynamight [1:04AM]: I have, but I’m not drunk.
OfficialDynamight [1:04AM]: We played a set with OFA tonight.
OfficialDynamight [1:05AM]: Just do me a favour and watch some videos from our set.
OfficialDynamight [1:09AM]: Are you even listening to me, Princess? Do it.
You laughed as you typed back a reply, tempted to search for some videos now, but instead deciding to wait until morning. Actual morning.
Y/N [1:10AM]: Bakugou, it’s 1am. I’ll watch in the morning, I promise.
OfficialDynamight [1:10AM]: You fucking better.
OfficialDynamight [1:15AM]: Goodnight.
New tweet from Y/N [11:40AM]: Okay, the clips from No Heroes show at the club last night sound really awesome.
New reply from OfficialDynamight [11:42AM]: About fucking time. Told you.
New reply from Chargebolt [11:44AM]: Thanks so much Y/N, you should come to a show sometime! ;)
New reply from OfficialDynamight [11:44AM]: @chargebolt no.
“Dude, why did you say that? Do you even realise how hot she is?” Kaminari whined from his position on the couch, throwing his head back as he read Bakugou’s blunt reply.
“Hot ain’t gonna fix how dumb she is.” Bakugou muttered, slipping his phone into his jeans pocket before picking up his drumsticks, “Are we rehearsing or what?”
“I think we should change the set so the new song is in the middle.” Kirishima grinned from his spot beside Kaminari, his fingers grasping a plectrum as he strummed at the electric guitar that wasn’t turned on. The dull pang of the strings sounded in the garage as Sero fiddled with an amp, the familiar buzz of electricity surging through it as static noise pulled through the speakers.
“Have you even seen what she looks like, dude?” Kaminari ignored Kirishima’s attempt to stop the conversation as Bakugou turned around, pointing his sticks at Kaminari as he stood by the drumkit.
“Tch, no why?” Bakugou rolled his eyes, “Don’t fuckin’ matter what she looks like.”
“I’m telling you, dude. She’s hot.” Kaminari’s fingers were quickly scrolling along with his phone screen, eyebrows furrowed as he searched for something, smiling in glee when he found it as he turned his phone to face the room.
Bakugou stepped closer to look at the screen, leaning forward as he caught sight of the photograph. It was that exact moment Bakugou was sure his heart had stopped beating, the sight of your wide smile as you grinned at the camera, holding up a playful hang loose sign with your hand as you stood outside a dingy looking music venue. A tattered Green Day shirt hanging from your body as you matched it with tights and a pair of Dr Marten boots. Your eyes looking directly at the camera as though you were looking directly at him, immediately reaching forward to snatch the phone from Kaminari’s hands as he took a closer look.
You were so hot? Pinching the screen with his fingers as he zoomed in on your face, feeling his skin begin to heat up as he thought about just how pretty you were. This is who he’d been talking to for the last few weeks, how had he never seen a picture of you before? This had been the person that had been insulting his band for the last few weeks and he had absolutely no idea, unable to quell the butterflies that began to erupt in his chest at the sight of you. His heart stuttering as his thoughts began to flood towards what it would be like to kiss you--
“See man, I fucking told you she was hot. We need to get her to come to the show.” Kaminari whined, throwing his head back onto the couch, “We’d look so frigging cute as a couple.”
“What makes you think she’d ever be interested in you, dumbass?” Bakugou scoffed, moving away when Kaminari tried to snatch his phone back. Instead, locking it and throwing it down onto the couch beside him before making his way back towards his drumkit.
“Oh, I’m sorry. How stupid of me.” Kaminari replied sarcastically, “She’d obviously be more interested in your winning personality.”
“Yeah? Like the rest of the girls online then.” Bakugou replied with a smirk, hitting the snare as he settled on the stool.
“Bakubro’s actually been talking to her a lot recently, haven’t you bro?” Kirishima grinned at his friend as he accepted the connection to a guitar amp from Sero, “I think it would be awesome to have her at a show, man. She might even write a good review for us once she sees us live.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she only hates us because Bakugou is such an asshole.” Sero grinned, passing the guitar he’d been tuning to Kaminari as he picked up his microphone.
“Not my fault she’s got shit music taste.”
“Just invite her, Bro. You’re the one that’s so determined to prove that we don’t suck. What better way than to show her?”
“Fuck off, I’m not inviting her. Now, are we gonna play or what?”
New tweet from Y/N [7:23PM]: Can’t wait for the Gravity Aura show tomorrow with support from No Heroes.
You laughed at the comments that began to flood in from No Heroes fans, telling you how prepared they were to finally convert you and how excited they were for your photographs from the show. Others asked whether they’d be able to meet you during the show and if you’d actually be staying for the entire set.
A message from Bakugou appearing in your inbox from Bakugou as you found yourself smiling before you’d even opened it.
OfficialDynamight [7:24PM]: I fucking knew you wanted to see us live.
Y/N [7:24PM]: I’m just there to interview Gravity Aura actually, but I might try and catch your set.
OfficialDynamight [7:25PM]: So you can finally apologise for being completely fucking wrong?
Y/N [7:26PM]: I guess that depends on the show you put on, doesn’t it?
OfficialDynamight [7:26PM]: You know we’re fucking good don’t even question it. You better watch us.
Rereading his words as you felt the butterflies begin to rise in your chest, he wanted you there.
You smiled at the tall security man at the main doors to the venue as you gave your name on the Press list, waiting patiently as he ticked your name off and moved to the side to let you into the venue. Collecting your press pass from the box office before walking through the venue. The familiar smell of beer and musky sweat filling your senses as you made your way through the dingy dive bar you’d been to many times before, the acoustics always seemed to be perfect for every show despite the shoddy interior. Pushing past the double doors as you made your way backstage.
“You stalkin’ me now?” You heard a familiar voice as you turned to face Bakugou. Your heart hammering against your ribcage as you looked him up and down, the first time you’d seen him face to face and he looked perfect, “Knew you were a fan-”
“Shut up! I’m here to interview Gravity Aura actually,” You almost choked on your words at the sight of him. His tall frame towering over you as he stepped closer, the loose black Metallica vest he was wearing completely distressed as it hung from his frame. Giving you the perfect opportunity to view the artwork that painted his skin, a full sleeve morphing into a pretty pattern against his left pectoral that almost looked like an explosion. A pair of plain black skinny jeans clinging to his muscular thighs, accenting every single ridge of muscle through the denim.
“My eyes are up here, shitty woman.” Bakugou smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as you watched his muscles flex, “You really tryin’ to say you ain’t gonna watch our set?”
“I might,” You tried to be coy, but honestly if he was going to look like that the entire show you would most definitely be watching.
“Then you can stop lying to yourself about us being shit.” Bakugou scoffed as you broke off into a laugh. His eyes zoning in on the cute way your nose scrunched at his words as you stood together in the cramped hallway.
“Yeah, or it’ll finally prove my point, Dynamight.” You turned to leave, already feeling flustered after being in such close proximity to him.
“You’re gonna need a drink to watch their fuckin’ set, they suck.” Bakugou scoffed, rolling his eyes at the suggestion.
“I dunno, I think they’re quite good. It’s great to have more female-fronted pop-punk bands, you know?” You smiled at the shocked expression on his face before his brows furrowed into a glare.
“You like them but you don’t like my band? Are you stupid?” He scoffed.
“It must be the way they play the drums, huh?” Unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face at the sight of him gawking at you in disbelief as you stepped into Gravity Aura’s dressing room, already looking forward to seeing his set.
The entire performance you couldn’t take your eyes off Bakugou. The focus and determination he possessed while behind the drums were truly captivating, so much so you had to weave your way out of the chaotic mosh pit to watch from the sidelines. Too enticed by the way his brows furrowed in concentration as he knocked the sticks against the kit, sweat causing his messy spikes to stick to his brow as the droplets flicked into all directions from his fast beat. Feeling a certain heat rise inside you at the way his vest moved with his movements, his darkened areola peeking out from under the fabric as you noted the shiny barbell that slot comfortably through his nipple.
The rest of the concert was almost a blur as you spent the entire performance imagining sitting on his lap while he tapped a beat on the drums, the way his thick thigh would bounce you on his lap as he tapped out a beat on the bass pedal. His sweaty body sticking to your own as he would whisper absolute filth in your ear in the same husky voice that sounded over the microphone when it was his turn to sing.
Your heartbeat increased when you noticed the familiar opening beat to your favourite song off their EP, the one all the fans had been going crazy for online as Bakugou began to sing. The subtle rasp had your lips parting in a silent moan, watching the way he never missed a beat on the drums as he sang the lyrics perfectly. Sero jumped in at the chorus as the crowd went wild.
This felt completely different to the recorded EP you’d listened to by them, there was something so raw and honest with their performance. You found yourself even screaming along to some of the lyrics as you let yourself enjoy the set. Disappointed when Sero announced it was the last song before Gravity Aura would take the stage, wanting to see more of them. More of him.
The band walked off side of the stage as you lingered in the crowd, watching the stagehandsset up for the next band, pulling your phone out of your pocket as you went to check your socials. The screen already glowing with a new notification.
OfficialDynamight [8:02PM]: Told you we were fucking good.
Y/N [8:03PM]: I didn’t even say anything yet.
OfficialDynamight [8:03PM]: You don’t even have to, I saw you giving me heart eyes in the crowd. You getting your panties in a twist at the sight of me, yeah?
He was so fucking cocky, but you couldn’t even deny watching him had made you flustered. Your thoughts immediately floating back to the intense gaze in his eyes as he focused on the beat of the drums.
OfficialDynamight [8:04PM]: If you even try and deny you enjoyed that, you’re a dirty fucking liar.
Y/N [8:04PM]: I’ll give it to you, that was a good set.
OfficialDynamight [8:04PM]: I fucking knew you loved us.
Y/N [8:04PM]: I didn’t say that.
OfficialDynamight [8:05PM]: You can stop lying to yourself now, Princess.
The nickname almost caused you to drop your cell phone, tightening your grip around the case as you reread it. Princess. You tried to imagine him saying it in the same raspy tone you’d heard before, the notion making you feel flushed as you stood in a sea full of people. Trying to distract yourself in your reply.
Y/N [8:07PM]: I mean, you’re definitely better live. I like the scrunchy face you make when you’re singing though, it’s cute. :)
OfficialDynamight [8:08PM]: YOU TRY DRUMMING AND SINGING AT THE SAME TIME AND THEN I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT YOUR FACE HUH?
Y/N [8:08PM]: You’d think it was cute, wouldn’t you?
OfficialDynamight [8:09PM]: You fucking wish.
Y/N [8:10PM]: Don’t lie.
You tried to use his own words against him as you saw him typing back a reply swiftly, gnawing your bottom lip as you eagerly awaited his response.
OfficialDynamight [8:11PM]: Maybe it’d be cute, you’d still fucking suck though.
Did he just call you cute? Maybe cute? Either way it made your heart flutter as you noticed the lights in the room go down to signal the next band taking the stage. You tried to ignore how upset you were after Gravity Aura’s set, hoping you’d manage to see Bakugou one last time before you had to get home. Nervous about missing the last subway train as you stood near the entrance. You knew that they had a lot of interviews to go through, and they held a meet and greet for their fans which seemingly meant that you wouldn’t be able to say goodbye. Deciding instead to text Bakugou that you were leaving to meet the last train, and hoping that you’d see him soon. Even with the disappointment, it was difficult to hide the smile on your face when he’d text you back.
OfficialDynamight [10:29PM]: You better fucking text me when you get home, I can’t get out of this stupid shit.
Y/N [10:30PM]: Aw, you really do care about me!
OfficialDynamight [10:31PM]: Don’t kid yourself, dumbass. I just don’t want something happening to you before you admit you love me.
OfficialDynamight [10:31PM]: *Love my band.
OfficialDynamight [10:32PM]: Don’t go getting any ideas.
Y/N [10:33PM]: It’s okay, I know you like me really.
OfficialDynamight [10:34PM]: Yeah? Maybe I fucking do.
The words caused your heart to soar, even if he’d corrected himself as you couldn’t wipe away the wide smile on your face as you made your way home. Dutifully doing so as you got through your front door, falling back onto your bed as you replied to his text before anything else.
Y/N[11:23PM]: Reporting myself home safe, daddy.
You instantly regret your words once you’d pressed send, feeling your cheeks heat up as you waited for him to reply. Hoping that it wouldn’t make him ghost you completely.
OfficialDynamight [11:24PM]: Good girl.
The words made your entire body shudder, a pleasurable twinge surging straight to your clit as you clenched your thighs together. Trying to imagine those exact same words in his voice, thinking about how they would sound with his body on top of yours as he slipped himself inside you.
You were giddy the entire time you were getting ready for bed, a ridiculous smile that you couldn’t seem to shake as you changed into your pyjamas, climbing beneath the covers as you snuggled beneath them.
You were falling in love with Bakugou Katsuki.
Bakugou couldn’t deny he found himself falling for you, the more time he spent without you the more he found himself missing your presence. Wanting to send you random text messages throughout the day just to find out what you were doing or if you were thinking about him too. Often checking his phone and rereading your last few messages from each other with his lips curled into a soft smile, slowly working up the courage to ask to see you again.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way about someone, if he ever had. Trying to look back at all the one night stands and casual hookups to see if he’d ever actually caught feelings for anyone but he hadn’t. There was just something about you that seemed to break the mould, no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he tried to convince himself you were annoying, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was falling for you.
Maybe he should invite you to the No Heroes headline show like Kirishima had suggested, if you’d even come?
Pausing his beat on his drumkit as he placed the sticks on the top of the snare, reaching into his pocket to pull his cell phone out as he prepared to text you to ask. His phone illuminated with a new Twitter notification from you, unlocking his phone swiftly as he moved to read the caption.
New tweet from Y/N [10:44AM]: Amazing Mindjack show last night, thank you so much for inviting me Shinsou.
Bakugou felt his stomach turn to knots at the sight of you standing beside Mindjack. A wide smile on your face as his eyes instantly went towards his hand poised snugly around your waist. The tips of his fingers digging into your side as they hovered dangerously close to the round curve of your ass. Your body obviously being pulled against his chest as you wrapped both your arms around his thin waist, one of your hands grasping your wrist to circle him.
Immediately looking at the comments that flooded in beneath the image, fans saying how cute you looked together and how happy they were for you. Others expressed their anger that you were dating their favourite musician, complaining that they would no longer have a chance to profess their love.
Swallowing thickly to try and ignore the hurt that welled inside him, the emotion quickly masked with anger as he moved to message you. Unable to stop himself from typing out the harsh words that flowed onto the screen.
OfficialDynamight [10:47PM]: No wonder you hate my fucking band, it’s because you’re not interested in the music at all are you? Just another fucking groupie.
Rage boiled inside him as he angrily jabbed the screen with his thumb to press send, exiting out of the message to unfollow your profile. Uncaring about his cellphone screen as he chucked his phone across the room, hearing it clatter against the hardwood floor but he didn’t care. His entire body seething as he tried to calm his breathing, chest heaving while rage boiled inside him. Rubbing his hands on his jeans to try and dry the sweat off his palms as he ground his teeth together in irritation. Why did he let himself fall for you? He should’ve known you’d do this to him.
Leaning forward on his drum stool he picked his sticks back up, settling his foot against the bass pedal as he began to tap out an aggressive beat. Loud bangs vibrating through the empty garage as he followed the rhythm of his rage, angry clashes of the symbols as he took his anger out on the kit in front of him. Feeling the tension in his muscles slowly starting to release with each harsh hit on the snare.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Kirishima yelled over the frantic bang of drums in the garage, his hands coming up to cover his ears. Sweat pooling from Bakugou’s body as he landed harsh hits to the drums, his barefoot bouncing against the bass pedal, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothin’,” Bakugou continued his beat, his thigh bouncing in quick succession as he tried to ignore Kirishima standing to the side of him.
“Don’t lie to me, man. Something’s obviously up.” Kirishima crossed his arms across his chest as he yelled at his best friend over the sound of the drums, unsure whether Bakugou had even heard him until the harsh noise came to a quiet tap.
“Something must have happened?” Kirishima’s hand reached out to grab the clattering symbol that Bakugou had just hit angrily, ceasing the loud clang as he gave it a look, “I’m not gonna leave until you tell me, Bro. So you-”
“She’s fuckin’ dating Mindjack.” Bakugou mumbled, cutting off Kirishima as he pushed his blond hair away from his sweaty forehead, the strands sticking together as they pointed up in random directions as Bakugou panted from exertion, “All this time.”
“And she didn’t say anything?”
“Course she fuckin’ didn’t. Why would she?”
“It seems a little odd that she’d talk to you for all this time when she’s got a boyfriend though?” Kirishima tried to reason, “Did you ask her about it?”
“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Bakugou growled, his foot bouncing against the bass pedal angrily, “It’s fuckin’ done.”
How had Bakugou Katsuki managed to do this to you?
You felt tears begin to well in your eyes, clumping against your lashes as they began to spill down your cheeks. Blurring your vision as you re-read his words.
OfficialDynamight: no wonder you hate my fucking band, it’s because you’re not interested in the music at all are you? Just another fucking groupie.
Noticing that you couldn’t reply to him, a sign that he’d blocked you from his social media accounts. Somehow this hurt more as you were unable to confront him, even if you’d wanted to. You should’ve never allowed yourself to fall for him, it was your fault for allowing him in. Letting him penetrate the locked cage of your heart and soul as he broke you from the inside out. A different kind of pain to those daily aches and pains, this one hit so much deeper. He’d broken down every wall you claimed you’d put up for your safety, vowing to never allow someone to hurt you again. Protecting your heart for yourself before all others, not wanting anyone to navigate you back to your darkest place.
You couldn’t do this again, you didn’t want to resign yourself to the heartbreak as you moved to his social media profiles, finding his handle as you blocked him back to shut him out. Doing what you had to do to protect yourself from any more pain and disappointment.
Dumping your phone onto your bedside table you pulled your duvet around your body, snuggling into the comforting fabric as your tears continued to fall. A gentle playlist flowing from your speakers as you tried to ignore the pang in your chest at the realisation that Bakugou didn’t want you back.
You’d be okay, you always were. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.
A few hours later you woke up to your phone buzzing against your bedside table, rubbing the dried tears from your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie as you picked it up, trying to ignore how dry and irritated your retina were as you unlocked the screen. Checking the new notifications on Twitter from Red Riot, Bakugou’s bandmate. Already expecting him to be coming up with a bullshit excuse for him that you didn’t want to hear as you contemplated deleting the message and blocking him too, you’d block every single member of the band if you had to. There was no way you’d ever be posting about them online again. The ache still hammering in your chest at Bakugou’s rejection the day before as you swiped at the screen.
RedRiot [4:24PM]: Hey
RedRiot [4:25PM]: Look, I know it would be easier to delete this but would you please hear me out? Bakugou is really upset.
The insinuation that he was more upset than you hurt as you backed out of the message to screenshot the last words Bakugou had sent to you, forwarding it across to Kirishima with a blunt message.
Y/N [4:31PM]: He’s the one that's hurting? When he’s the one that sent me this-
RedRiot [4:32PM]: I didn’t know he’d said that to you…
Y/N [4:34PM]: Yeah? Well, he did. Doesn’t matter now anyway.
RedRiot [4:35PM]: He was just really upset to see you with Mindjack, I think he really liked you and he didn’t realise you were dating.
Y/N [4:35PM]: Dating? I’m not dating Mindjack?
RedRiot [4:35PM]: Wait, you’re not?
Y/N [4:37PM]: No? I literally just reviewed his show. It was supposed to be out today but I didn’t get to finish it after Bakugou decided to be an fucking asshole.
RedRiot [4:38PM]: OMG that’s great news
Was he serious right now? Great news? Did he not hear anything that you’d just told him, already finding yourself irritated as you went to give him a snappy retort before he messaged again.
RedRiot [4:40PM]: Look, he was so upset when he thought you were dating Mindjack earlier. He’d never admit it, but he really likes you. I’ve never seen him this way around a girl before, and I can always tell when he’s talking to you because he’s always smiling.
Y/N [4:41PM]: If he really liked me he should’ve been straight up and not jumped to conclusions over a stupid picture.
RedRiot [4:42PM]: You’ve probably noticed by now, but Bakugou isn’t the best at sharing his feelings. I promise he’s a really great guy.
RedRiot [4:45PM]: Will you at least think about coming to the show? I know he fucked up, but whether he’d admit it or not. I know Bakugou would really want to see you.
You locked your phone after the conversation, pulling your legs up to your chest in a soft huddle. No matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t stop thinking about him, you missed him.
And if there was a chance he missed you too then maybe you should take it.
You felt bile rise in your stomach as you entered the music venue, the AAA sticker stuck to your thigh as you weaved through the crowd. Trying to decide whether to just lurk at the back of the room and watch or just go home. It felt suffocating, your heart aching at the thought of even seeing Bakugou as you tried to decide what to do.
RedRiot [7:20PM]: You here yet?
Rereading the message as you tried to decide whether to answer or not, he’d already seen that you’d read it by now but you could still come up with an excuse.
Y/N [7:24PM]: I just got here…
RedRiot [7:26PM]: I’m so glad you decided to come, you got the pass right? Come backstage, I’ll be here if you’re nervous.
RedRiot [7:27PM]: Unless you want me to come and get you?
Y/N [7:27PM]: It’s fine, I’m coming.
You lingered at the door to their dingy dressing room as your knuckles hovered over the shoddy wood, trying to work up the courage to actually knock on the door to enter. Your heart pounding in your ribcage as you took a deep breath, allowing your knuckles to rap them against the door. Unsure whether they would be able to hear you over the loud rambunctious laughter inside so you took a deep breath as you let yourself inside.
The loud bustling came to a quiet stop as four sets of eyes glanced towards your frame in the doorway, nervously standing under their gaze as you shuffled your feet at the door.
It wasn’t too late to run, you thought, chewing your bottom lip between your teeth as you sincerely considered it.
“Hey! Thanks for coming.” Kirishima hopped up from his chair and bound across the room to greet you in the doorway, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. Almost trying to anchor you in place to make sure you wouldn’t leave.
“What is she doing here?” Bakugou grumbled when he saw you standing in the doorway nervously, his vermilion orbs meeting your own as you felt the same feelings begin to resurface.
“I- I can go,” You mumbled, toying with your fingers nervously as you made to step back from the room, already feeling overwhelmed by the situation and being here.
“But you just got here, please stay-” Kirishima placed a large, comforting palm on your lower back as he helped you step inside the room.
Bakugou’s bandmates all came up to introduce themselves as Bakugou lingered near the back of the room, leaning against the vanity table as Kirishima ushered them out. Leaving you alone to talk with Bakugou, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Well, are you gonna say anything or-” Bakugou was quick to cut you off.
“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mumbled, looking down at his worn vans as he tried to get the words out, “I shouldn’t have lashed out like that-”
“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” You glared at him angrily as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. Obviously not expecting the raised tone to your voice, “I really fucking liked you, Bakugou.”
Hearing his last name leaving your lips made him ache, a hurt expression flashing through his eyes as he listened to you speak.
“I actually thought you liked me too.” You whispered.
“I do.” Bakugou rasped, “That’s why when I saw the picture of you with that bastard, and all the comments underneath I got pissed and lashed out.”
“You know those messages are what I have to deal with on a near daily basis, right?” You recalled the amount of times you’d had random strangers on the internet call you a groupie, a whore, a slut that was only interested in sleeping with guys from bands, “You can’t believe everything you see on the internet, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” He rasped, a guilty look on his face.
“Otherwise you’d have to admit OFA are a better band than No Heroes.” You teased, watching the way he sneered at you.
“I know you don’t fuckin’ think that.” Bakugou glared.
“Oh yeah? You wanna bet?” He took a step into your personal space, his scent overwhelming your senses as you drank him in. His sheer mass hulking over you as his deep red eyes gazed down at you with mischief.
“You’re so fuckin’ annoying.” He growled down at you.
“So are you.” You quipped.
His calloused palm reached up to cup your neck, his thumb brushing against your jawline as you felt yourself lean into his touch. Your eyes fluttering from the soothing drag of his skin against yours as he leaned forward, warm breath fanning your face as his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss. The moment you collided it was as though nothing else mattered, pouring his feelings and emotions into the kiss as his tongue stroked against your lips, begging for entry which you gladly allowed. Your bodies melding together as your hands reached out for something, anything to keep you grounded as your head began to spin. Grabbing fistfuls of the band shirt he was wearing as you held him tight, feeling his tongue swipe against your own as you let out a soft moan which was engulfed by his mouth. Bakugou’s hand tightening its grip on your neck as his other began to trace patterns against your back, elaborate circles that had you arching into his touch, gasping for breath when you felt him squeeze the round cheek of your ass.
“You have no fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” Bakugou’s chest heaved as he sucked in a breath, his lips ghosting against your own as he held you tight. Unable to resist bringing you back into another deep kiss, this time your hands becoming bolder in their movements. Tracing the muscular contours of his chest through his shirt, dipping your hands towards the hem of his low-slung shorts as your fingertips slipped underneath the hem of his clothes, brushing against his bare skin as you teased the fuzzy trail of hair that sat below his belly button.
“Fuck,” He growled against your lips, “Best be careful, Princess.”
“Or what?” You smiled as you splay your palm against his chest,
Bakugou used his grip on your body to push you forward, making you walk backwards as you felt the back of your thighs hit something, gasping in surprise as you fell backwards. Landing on the worn leather sofa that sat in the room. Bakugou followed after as he settled between your parted thighs, not once breaking the kiss as his tongue lapped at the roof of your mouth. Your hands moving up to weave through the messy hairs at the base of his neck, fingernails dragging through the buzzed hair of his undercut as you felt him shudder against you.
You couldn’t quite believe this was happening, this was something you’d thought about when you lay in bed at night. Imagining how it would feel to have his body pressed against yours, completely surrounded by his intoxicating scent. Having him here now felt like a fever dream, fearing that you could wake up at any moment and be back at home alone in your bed once more. The thought causing you to cling tighter to him, a low growl leaving Bakugou’s lips when you tugged at his hair, your thigh latching onto his hip as his hand manoeuvred to your ass, grinding the tent in his shorts against your clothed sex.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He rasped as he pulled away from your lips, giving you a moment to breathe before he made you throb again as he began to press hot, searing kisses along your jawline.
“I’m not,” You mumbled in your love-drunk stupor, squeezing your thighs against Bakugou’s hips as he pulled away from your neck. A serious look in his eyes as his brows furrowed, vermilion orbs gazing down at you.
“Yes, you fuckin’ are.” He pecked your lips as you felt your heart do somersaults, “And I’ll keep sayin’ it til you believe it.”
Using his grip on your ass to roll his hips against yours, grinning at the breathless gasp you made at the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your core. Your hands grabbing for him as you tried to pull him back towards you, the distance was already too far. Bakugou’s lips curling into a grin as he latched onto your pulse point, his teeth biting down on the supple skin as he sucked the junction of your throat. Your head laying back on the worn cushions as your back arched into his touch, his touch scorching against you as you scrambled to hold onto him. Trying to ground yourself as you let out a deep moan, Bakugou’s tongue lashing against you as he soothed the skin, pulling back to assess his work before you were already desperately trying to pull him back into a sloppy kiss. His wet lips connecting with yours as he smirked, his nose bumping against yours playfully as he continued peppering you with soft kisses.
“Hey, I’m guessing you guys made up then?” Kirishima called from the door, Bakugou pulling away from you with a snarl as he glared towards his friend in the doorway.
Feeling yourself heat up in embarrassment of being caught in such a compromising position as Bakugou yelled out obscenities, trying to get Kirishima to leave the room as he kept you pinned to the sofa.
“I wish I could, dude. But we’re due on stage like now-” Kirishima moved his gaze to you, “I’m gonna have to steal him away, sorry.” You gave him a shy smile as you felt Bakugou’s grip tighten on you, obviously contemplating not going on stage at all.
“Come on, Bakubro.” Sero poked his head in and made a wolf whistle when he saw the position the pair of you were in, “It’s headline night, baby-”
“Why does everyone always want Bakugou?” Kaminari groaned when he saw you both on the sofa in the dressing room.
“It’s the bad boy image, Denks. You don’t have it-” Sero laughed, patting his best friend on the back.
“Come on, man.” Kirishima tried to push his other band members out of the doorway, “You gonna watch us side stage?” He directed to you as you gave him a shy nod.
“Give me a fuckin’ second, assholes.” Bakugou
“You okay?” He asked gently, his red irises looking into yours for any sign that you may not be. Giving him a small smile as you nodded in affirmation, making him press a final peck to your lips before getting up from the sofa.
“Fuck,” He grumbled under his breath as he readjusted his shorts, making you laugh as he tried to hide the raging hard-on beneath the fabric.
“Whatcha laughin’ at, hah?” He sent you a playful glare, reaching a hand out to you to help you off the couch as he pulled you up with ease.
“Come on, ‘m gonna show you the best fuckin’ show you’ve ever seen.” He smirked cockily, leading you out of the dressing room and towards the stage.
“Yeah? We’ll see- ow!” You cried playfully when Bakugou landed a harsh smack to your ass.
The moment you made it to the side of the stage you could hear the crowd roaring, the synchronized chants of No Heroes sounding out and filling the venue as the band slowly began to walk out on stage. Bakugou leaving a lingering kiss on your lips before he stepped out last, walking straight to his drumkit as he pulled the sticks from his back pocket. Taking a seat on the stool as he slapped them together to signal the start of the first song. The loud bass roaring to action as the sound filled the speakers, the music vibrating through you as you watched them lose their inhibitions on stage. Sero’s voice singing out over the loud instruments as the first song began.
Much like the first time you’d seen them perform, you found you were unable to take your eyes off Bakugou. There was just something so enticing about watching him play, the controlled focus on his features as he tapped the beat out on the drums effortlessly. Rubbing your thighs together as you were reminded of your unsatiated need, trying to give yourself some light relief as you watched the way his muscles contracted with each movement.
This was the Bakugou you wanted to see, the true raw emotion that he exuded when he was on stage. Your eyes were captivated by his every move, watching the sweat begin to collect against his brow as he pushed his hair from his eyes, shaking the sweat off as he took hard, deep breaths between songs. Each gap he’d glance over at you, giving you a small smile while Sero worked the audience. The familiar guitar introduction of your favourite No Heroes song sounding out as Bakugou smirked, leaning forward on the stool slightly as he began to tap out a beat, his thigh bouncing as he kicked the bass pedal, breaking out into the melodic chorus as his voice flowed through the microphone. Pouring out every bit of emotion he felt inside him into the song, the words flowing through the air and straight into your soul.
Sorrow flowing through your veins as you heard Sero announce that this was the final song, glancing out at the crowd as they cheered for No Heroes. You didn’t want the performance to end, moving your focus back onto Bakugou as he prepared to start the song. The whole band turning to face him as they were counted in. The guitars blending together perfectly with Bakugou’s beat as you watched him pour all his energy into the set.
Sweat dripping off his body and pooling on the ground around him as he picked up his towel, trying to wipe himself off as he raised a final fist to the crowd, holding his drumsticks above his head before he chucked both into the audience. Creating a mini-scuffle in the crowd as fans fought for a memento of their show. Bakugou quickly turning to make his way back to the side of the stage where you were still waiting for him.
“Well?” He wiped some of the sweat from his brow with a black towel around his neck as he moved to pull you into a hug, which you tried to escape. His skin glistened with moisture as you squealed, his arms circling you as you were pressed against his damp chest. Feeling the wetness pressing against your shirt as you tried to wriggle out of his tight grip.
“Get off, you’re so sweaty.” You cried, moving your head back as he kept your body pressed snugly against his, his musky scent provocative as you found yourself eager to be engulfed in it. Calming your thrashing as you allowed it to gather around you as you inhaled deeply,
“You love it, don’t lie,” Bakugou smirked, flicking his head to try and move some of his messy spikes from his vision, droplets of sweat flicking against your face.
“Ew,” You laughed as he leaned down to nuzzle your neck, almost as though he was marking you with his scent.
“You gonna tell me what you thought?” His eyes looked hopeful as he waited for your reaction, the rest of his band bustling in the background as the crowd continued to cheer, even though the lights in the venue had powered back on.
“You were incredible.” You replied in earnest, “Seriously.”
You wished you could’ve captured the elation in his eyes at the words, a big smile you’d never seen before appearing on his face as he tightened his grip around you, ignoring your cries of protest about how sweaty he was as he pulled you into a kiss.
“It’s getting really late, I should probably get home.”
“Hold on, I’ll walk you home.”
A subtle moonlight illuminated the pavement as you walked home, Bakugou’s thick arms nudging into your side as he tried to decide whether to grab your hand. Maybe put his arm around you instead? He wasn’t sure what to do so instead remained silent beside you, but there was something different about Bakugou that made silence serene.
Maybe it was the knowledge that you didn’t have to talk to feel comfortable with him, no sound to try and overcompensate for awkward tension. Everything felt so natural, so normal. You wanted to feel this way all the time, to be with him all the time. There was just something about Bakugou Katsuki that you couldn’t seem to shake, gravitating towards his orbit whenever he spoke. Something so raw and true about him that you’d never quite found in another person before, it was difficult to find that kind of unabashed honesty anymore.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Bakugou’s husky voice spoke out, deliberately nudging your shoulder as you walked along the quiet streets.
“Mmm, nothing really.” You tried to act coy, there was no way you were going to tell him what you were really thinking about. The pent up urges from the venue still whirring inside you as you thought back to how his muscular body had felt on top of you.
“Oi, what did I tell you about lying?” Bakugou grunted, his nose scrunching in the same way you’d observed he did whenever he was annoyed, “Stop being a brat and answer the fuckin’ question.”
“Oh? You wanna know that I’m thinking about you?” Bakugou’s cheeks tinged pink at your answer, obviously not expecting you to be so blunt. “How about you, Bakugou? What are you thinking about?”
You hoped that he was going to say you, longing to hear the confession of his desire for you leaving his lips. You needed to hear that he wanted you too, just as much as you wanted him. That you occupied his thoughts in the same way he was now taking over yours, flooding your mind with all thoughts of Bakugou Katsuki and filling your conscience to the brim until there was no space left for anything else.
“Tch, you dumbass.” He muttered, eyes facing forward as you continued walking together.
“What was that? I’m not sure I quite heard you, Bakugou.” You teased, already knowing loud and clear what he’d just confessed.
“You fuckin’ heard me,” He almost shouted, the sound making a wide smile appear on your face, “And call me Katsuki.”
“Katsuki.” You hummed the name, the melody sounding so perfect coming from your lips as Bakugou longed to hear you say it over and over again.
Pulling your key out of your pocket as you moved to open your front door, Bakugou lingering behind as he waited for you to get inside safely.
“Goodnight.” He whispered, shuffling his feet as he was obviously trying to decide whether he should kiss you or not. An internal argument in his mind overstepping closer and scooping you into his arms or just turning and walking away.
“Are you not coming in?” You lingered in the doorway as you watched Bakugou turn to leave, his lip curling into a small smile as he stepped back towards you as you kept the door open for him to step inside your apartment.
Closing it gently as he slipped his vans off and left them beside yours at the door, following you through to the living room as he looked around your quaint home.
“‘m glad you came tonight.” He murmured, leaning into your touch as you leaned up on tip-toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him down into a gentle kiss.
“I’m glad I came too,” You smiled, “I wasn’t going to-”
“Kiri convinced me though. Told me you weren’t as big an asshole as you seem-” You grinned at the dopey smile that appeared on his face, “I’m still not sure if he’s right though.”
“Yeah, yeah. And you’re fuckin’ annoying too, you know.” He groaned, but there was no true malice in his words.
“But you love it.” You teased.
“Yeah, I do-”
You took his large palm in your own as you lead him towards your bedroom, giving him a lingering peck on the lips as you moved to put some music on. Slipping on one of your soft, romantic pop-punk playlists as he sat down on the edge of your bed. Giving him a gentle smile as you walked towards him as the slow, soothing music played through your speaker. Standing between his parted thighs as Bakugou’s arms coiled around you, caging you in against him as you drape your arms over his shoulders.
Bakugou’s large palms moved to grasp your ass, kneading the cheeks as you lowered your lips to his, craning his neck to meet you in a sultry kiss. Your soft moans captured in his mouth as he continued to massage your rear, using his grip on you to pull you closer as your fingers danced along his face, feeling the rough stubble against his jawline as you cupped his cheeks, boldly pushing your tongue between his parted lips as you deepened the kiss.
This was nothing like any other relationship you’d had before, it felt completely new and fresh. A different kind of intimacy that you had longed to feel but had never been able to experience until now. Each touch Bakugou left on your body kept tiny volts of electricity flowing through you, your heart racing in your chest as he began to move his hands higher, slipping underneath the distressed shirt you wore to the show as he splayed his palms against your bare back, silently waiting for you to permit him to proceed.
You answered by breaking away from the kiss, reaching down to the hem of your shirt to pull the fabric up and over your head, discarding it to the floor as you stood between his parted thighs in a plain black bra. Bakugou’s eyes instantly shooting towards your exposed skin, mapping out the beautiful contours of your body as he pulled you back towards him, nuzzling his face against your round breasts as you ran your fingers through his messy hair.
“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” He groaned as his palms explored the new territory, stroking along your sides as he came to the bottom of your bra. Thick fingers thumbing the underside of your breasts, watching carefully as your back arched into his touch.
His lips pressing gentle kisses to the supple skin that peeked out of the black cups, holding his head as he gave playful nips to you, his nose nuzzling the skin as his fingers moved to your back to unclasp the fabric, feeling it loosen around your body as the cups hung lifelessly against you. Moving back so you could pull the material away from your body, letting it fall to the ground as you exposed your chest to Bakugou.
“Shit,” He sucked in a breath at the sight of you bare in front of him. Your breasts posed beautifully for him as he pressed a gentle kiss against your soft nipple, watching the way it hardened beneath his touch. Stiffening to a peak as he repeated the motion on the other side. Large palms cupping your mounds as you let out an airy sigh, moaning as he languidly began to lap at your chest. His tongue slathering spit against your darkened areolas, dragging the tip around your buds as you tried to get him to suck them into his mouth. Tightening your grip on the back of his head as your fingernails dug into the skin, groaning when you felt him comply. His teeth dragging gently against the surface as he sucked one between his lips.
“Fuck, Katsuki.” You mewled, leaning your weight against him as you felt his tongue lash against your nipple, cheeks hollowing as he began to suck crudely. The sound audible over the playlist you’d put on as he pulled back from your mound with a pop, blowing cool air against the wet skin as you shuddered. A smirk on his face as he moved to the other side, mimicking the action as you began to rub your thighs together, “Feels good.”
“Yeah?” He pulled away, lips pouted as he blew cold air against your other stiff peak, “How good?”
“So good.” You gasped when his fingers moved to your jeans, tugging the button as it popped open, your fly unzipping as he began to help you out of the denim. The material slipping to the floor as you stepped out of it, exposing your matching black panties to his eyes as he sucked in a breath.
“Why am I the only one getting naked?” You whined as Bakugou’s hands instantly moved to turn you to the side so he could get a better view. Marvelling the way your underwear curved around the shape of your ass, clinging to your body perfectly as he grabbed a fistful. Squeezing gently as the fabric slipped between your cheeks, pulling back to give the surface a soft smack, making you cry out for him.
“Cause you’re prettier.” He murmured, giving your cheek another spank as he cherished the way you cried out for him.
“No, I’m not,” You scrunch your nose in disagreement as he repeated the motion, harder this time as the smack reverberated around your room.
“Yes, you fuckin’ are.” Bakugou squeezed the roundness of your ass, fingertips digging into the skin he’d just spanked. The sensation causes a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure to ebb through you.
“Katsu, please.” You pouted as your fingers tugged at his shirt, trying to get him to remove it as he finally caved in.
“Fine, fine. So whiny.” He sassed playfully as he leaned back to pull the fabric up and over his head as he dropped it to the floor to join your clothes.
Your hungry eyes immediately drinking in his exposed skin, hands smoothing along his defined pectorals as you brushed through the thin lines of blond hair that danced against his chest. Grazing his nipples as you enjoyed mapping out his body, unabashedly ogling him as he stroked his warm palms along your outer thighs.
“You’re so pretty.” You cooed, pressing a playful kiss to his lips as you pressed against his pectorals so his back was flush on the mattress.
“Yeah? I’m pretty, am I?” He teased back, large palms curling around the back of your thighs as he pulled you on top of him. Your legs on either side of his hips as your clothed cunt was pressed flush against his crotch. The sensation making him grunt softly as he rolled his hips against you, creating delicious friction between both your bodies as his lashes fluttered.
“You’re the fuckin’ pretty one.” He growled as he grabbed both of your ass cheeks in his large palms, grinding you down against his bulge as he deliberately rolled your hips against him, ensuring to drag against your clit with each circular motion. The sensation causing your walls to clench around nothing as you felt your slick dampening the fabric of your panties and sticking to his jeans, “God, you’re such a fuckin’ mess and I’ve barely touched you.”
His fingers slipped between your thighs to brush the back of his knuckles against your clothed slit, feeling how wet you were through the thin barrier of clothing. You sucked in a breath as you felt him nudge your clit, rolling your hips to try and give yourself some more stimulation as he watched the way your chest heaved at the sensation. Having the perfect vantage point of your round breasts above him as he moved his other hand to tweak one of your hard nipples.
Shuddering as you felt his fingers stroke the apex of your thighs, goosebumps littering your skin as he slipped his calloused fingers beneath the hem of your panties, fingers grazing over your outer labia as he spread you open, delving his digits between your messy folds. A growl echoing from deep in his chest as the feeling of you beneath his touch, so wet and slick for him as he trailed along your cunt. Teasingly flicking your sensitive nub before travelling lower, tracing gentle circles around your tight entrance as he felt your walls flutter at his ministrations. Desperately trying to drag him in deeper, to feel him stretching you out as you writhed above him.
Becoming impatient as you moved your own hands from their position on his chest to the waistband of his jeans, fingers tugging at his belt as you managed to unbuckle it, leaving it threaded through the loops as you began pawing at his fly. Unbuttoning the denim as you tugged at the material, trying to give yourself as much space as possible to free his aching cock. You whimpered when you saw how thick he looked beneath the grey boxer briefs he was wearing. A dark circle of pre staining the fabric as you palmed him through the thin fabric, making him grunt as he jerked his hips sloppily.
“Don’t,” His hand was quick to catch your wrist, yanking you back from his crotch as he let out the strained breath he’d been holding in, his chest heaving as he looked up at the ceiling.
The movement catching you off guard as you took it to be an instant rejection, trying to ignore the romantic playlist that was playing in the background, words flowing through the speakers about love and eternity that only seemed to exasperate your feelings. Bakugou immediately caught the look of hurt that was fraught on your features, his gaze softening as his grip on your wrist loosened.
“Oh fuck, no-” He rambled, “Not because it didn’t feel good- shit- because you’ll have me cummin’ in my fuckin’ pants if you keep that up.”
You felt the heavy weight in your chest dissipate at his words, the fear that he’d taken you this far just to reject you now removed as Bakugou began to stroke soothing circles along your thigh, his thumb slipping between your slick folds to find your puffy clit, pressing down on the sensitive nub as he began to rub slow circles around it.
“You like that?” Bakugou rasped as he pressed harder against your clit, watching your face contorted in pleasure as you tried to form a response, instead the words slipping out in an incoherent jumble. Your hips buckled as you tried to get him to give you something, anything more to help send you over the edge.
“More,” You managed to gasp out, your smaller hands wrapping around his thick wrist to try and get him to move towards your entrance, eager to have him inside you.
“More? Greedy little thing, aren’tcha?” Bakugou coddled you, “This not enough for you, Princess?”
“Don’t tease, Katsu.” You whined as you felt his thumb leave your clit, instead stroking along your outer lips as he watched you trying to gain more stimulation for yourself, your hips rolling as you tried to position his touch to where you needed it most. Taking pity on you as he moved his middle finger to slip inside your tight heat.
“Jesus fuckin’ christ.” He groaned at the feeling of your inner walls squeezing around his digit, “You’re so tight.”
You felt his blunt nails dragging along your spongy inner walls, curling his finger to try and find the spot inside you he knew would have you coming undone for him. Trying to drop your hips on his hand to get him deeper inside you as you moved your palms back to rest on his chest, trying to gain traction as you began to fuck yourself on his finger.
“God, I could look at you like this all damn day.” Bakugou kept his hand still as he watched you roll your hips against him, occasionally curling the digit just to hear what sweet moans he could pull from your lips, “So fuckin’ pretty.”
You mewled indignantly when he pulled his finger from your dripping cunt, scrunching your nose as he moved his hand to grab the back of your thigh, your essence sticking to your skin uncomfortably as he caught you by surprise, hoisting you up his body until you were resting against his pectorals.
“What are you doing?” Your face flushed in confusion as your lower half was positioned dangerously close to his face.
“What’s it look like, Princess?” He tugged on your thighs again, moving them over his shoulders so you were hovering over his face. The headboard of your bed was too far away to hold as you trembled above him, “‘m getting a taste.”
Your body flushed in embarrassment as he tugged your panties to the side, getting a close look at your puffy lips.
“Look at this pretty little pussy,” You keen at his words, almost falling backwards before his strong arms weave under your thighs to hold you steady. Holding your ass in his large palms, dropping you down onto his eager mouth. Feeling the flat of his tongue lick a long swipe along your sex, your slick coating it as he tasted you for the first time, the taste igniting something feral inside him as a low growl vibrated in his throat.
“Even better than I imagined,” He murmured before diving in for more, the desire inside you overwhelming as he began to feast on your cunt. His tongue glided between your labia as he found your tight entrance, circling it with the tip of his tongue before prodding it inside your saccharine walls. His nose was snug against your clit as you found yourself grinding down against him. Your hands immediately looking for something to hold onto to try and ground yourself as your fingers weaved into his messy hair. Fingernails dragging against his scalp as you began to ride his face.
“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, enjoying the sensation of you tugging his hair at the root, rutting his hips against nothing as he tried to create some friction for his neglected cock, “Got such a pretty pussy, don’tcha?”
His words made your entire body flush, a heat pooling between your legs as you felt him move back up, his tongue sliding along your sex as he wrapped his lips around your clit. His teeth lightly grazing it as he began to suck, his cheeks hollowing as he lashed his tongue against the sensitive nub. The motion caused you to cry out for him, trying to shut your thighs around his head as the sensation became too overwhelming. Bakugou kept his grip on your ass firm as he continued to work your clit, enjoying the way you caged him in, as though you were trying to suffocate him.
Jumbled words began to tumble from your lips as you tried to form coherent words to describe how you were currently feeling, but you couldn’t. The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt before as he continued to work your body with precision. His hand curling around your body to rest against your pelvis as he angled your hips, keeping you steady as he lashed his tongue against your sensitive nub.
“Oh, fuck.” You gasped, feeling the familiar ache inside you as your climax surged through you like a tidal wave. Your hands pulling at Bakugou’s hair as you bucked your hips erratically against his touch. His grip keeping his lips against you as he held you steady. Trying to close your thighs to no avail as he continued working your clit in his mouth. Bakugou’s vermilion eyes completely focused on your face as your lips parted in a near-constant whine. His name spilling from your throat like a dull mantra, crying out for him as though he was some sort of deity.
“S’too much, I can’t-” You tried to mumble out, your thighs quivering as you felt the intensity of your orgasm still flowing through you, “I’m so-”
You couldn’t find the words, as quickly as you’d reached your first climax, Bakugou had been relentless in granting you your second. Your body almost falling forward if it wasn’t for his grip on you, a display of pure strength from the blond as he kept you upright while continuing to lap against your folds. Nuzzling your sensitive clit before moving his lips down to taste your release on his tongue, shamelessly slurping at your cunt as the lewd noises filled your bedroom and sounded over your playlist.
“You’re such a mess,” Bakugou smirked as he finally gave you a moment to recover as he pulled back from your sex, your slick glistening against his chin as he licked his lips greedily.
“That was-” You didn’t even know how to describe it, if there were even words in this life that could describe the euphoria you felt.
“I know.” He replied cockily, a dopey grin on his face as you made a motion to slap his cheek playfully, “Oi, is that how you treat someone that just made you cum like that- twice,”
“So fucking cocky.” You rolled your eyes as you felt him shuffle behind you, your body still resting around his neck.
“Yeah, I am.” You turned back to watch his thumbs slipping into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down to let it keep around his muscular thighs. His thick cock springing free as you couldn’t help but stare.
You knew he was going to be big, but this was completely unexpected. You could tell how heavy his cock was from the way it slapped down against his abdomen, the sheer girth enough to have your cunt throbbing as you wondered how you’d even be able to take him in. A heavy set of balls sat at the base, a faint scattering of hair around them as the length was just as intimidating. You noted the way it curved, forking veins scattered along it which only seemed to add to his sheer mass as your eyes were met with the mushroomed head. A thick bead of pre oozing from the tip and dribbling against his chest as he moved to give himself a quick pump with his fist, smearing the pre along his length.
“You don’t have to, you know-” Bakugou whispered honestly, his eyes looking up into yours for any sign of reluctance as you shook your head.
“No, I want to.” You reassured him, “I have for a while.”
Bakugou lifted you with ease as he moved you back down to his hips, watching as you used his chest for leverage as you eased your thighs up, taking him in one hand as he hissed on impact. The sensation of your small hand around his impressive girth had him throbbing as he watched you position him at your entrance.
“I don’t think I prepped you enough, Princess. You’re fuckin’ tight-” Bakugou tried to move a hand back between your thighs to stretch you out before slipping his thick cock inside but you were quick to brush him away. Your hand pushing his larger one away as he let out a guttural groan at your refusal.
“No, I want it now.” You pouted childishly as you pressed the bulging head inside you, your lips parted in a silent moan as you felt him beginning to stretch you out. A gentle throb between your thighs as you slowly began to roll your hips against him, trying to get yourself accustomed to the size as you began to drop yourself lower and lower on his thick cock.
“Fuckin’ hell, you’re so fuckin’ hot you have no idea-” Bakugou cursed as he rambled on about how beautiful you looked taking his cock, what a good girl you were being for him. His sweet praises only aiding you in taking him inside your walls, fluttering around him as you were eager to please.
“Atta girl,” Bakugou groaned when he felt you take him down to the base. Your messy slick stringing in his neatly trimmed pubic hair as you took a moment to adjust to the intrusion. The subtle tremor of your velvety walls around him made it near impossible for him not to buck up into you, tightening his grip on your hips as the calloused pads of his fingers dug into your sides, no doubt leaving bruises.
“Katuski.” You sighed when you finally began to move against him, grinding yourself against his pelvis as his pubic hair stimulated your clit. Dragging yourself back and forth as you basked in the sensation, throwing your head back as you used his body to get yourself off.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” Bakugou cooed, a hand reaching up to flick your nipple as he kept his grip on your hips, letting you move at a pace you desire, “You makin’ yourself feel good, yeah?”
“Feel so good, Suki. You feel good-” You warbled, tears blanking your vision from the stretch as you selfishly worked yourself towards another orgasm.
Your hips stuttered with each movement as you began to lift yourself before dropping yourself back down on his cock, repeating the motion as his thickness dragged along your spongy walls. Each drag of his cock inside you had you feeling warm, hot molten lava flowing through your body as you began to roll your hips above him. Pulling more beautiful sounds from between his lips. Generating invigorating friction as you tried to keep up a steady pace. Your body already overwhelmed by pleasure and you couldn’t get enough as you continued to ride him.
Bakugou’s hands were all over you, touching every single curve of your body he could reach, moving his palms up to cup your round breasts. Feeling the weight in his palms as he thumbed your nipples, cherishing the pretty whine that he managed to pull from your lips at the sensation. Continuing lower as he stroked your soft curves, moving the flat of his palm to press against your pelvis. Certain he could almost feel his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching your tight body to accommodate him. The realisation had him groaning and bucking his hips up into you, causing you to cry out his name.
“Wait,” Bakugou turned his head towards your speaker as a familiar song began to play out, “Is that one of my fuckin’ songs? I thought you didn’t like my band-“
You flushed at the realisation that you really did have one of his songs on your romantic playlist, it was one of the first songs you’d ever listened to by his band and it was one you cherished the most because it had vocals from Bakugou. Almost as though he was singing it to you.
“You got Serendipity on your playlist?” Bakugou’s grin couldn’t get any wider, flashing a hint of gum as he smirked down at you dopily.
“I like this one,” You murmured innocently, continuing your sloppy pace against him, “It’s good.”
“I fuckin’ knew you loved us,” Bakugou replied cockily, moving his hand back to spank your ass, “Can’t believe I’m actually fuckin’ to one of my songs.”
“Shut up,” You pouted, your pace becoming more erratic as you tried to stop the ache in your parted thighs.
“Let me fuckin’ have this one,”
“There’s a growl you do in this song that’s just so fucking sexy.” Bakugou stopped his motions as he gave you the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen.
“Oh yeah?” Noticing the way you slowed against him, lifting yourself up slightly before barely dropping back down, “Getting tired, Princess?” Bakugou cooed, as you nodded your head in reply.
Feeling him tighten his grip on your waist as he held you stead, positioning his feet on the floor as he began to piston his hips up into you, the harsh sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as his balls hit the curve of your ass almost to the beat of the song. Your stretched pussy began to squelch with the amount of your shared juices that dribbled down his thick cock and left white ring marks around the base, his motions were more harsh and frantic as his song played in the background.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh-” You whined, his frantic pace was making your breasts bounce as he ruts himself into you quickly, greedily trying to send you into another release.
“Gonna cum for me, Princess?” He smirked, “Gonna cum to one of my songs?”
Bakugou was so deep inside you from this position, his cockhead kissing your cervix with each downward motion as he eagerly brought you towards another climax. Your toes curling as you threw your head back, letting Bakugou use you any way he saw fit. Each movement had you feeling a different kind of bliss, an ethereal feeling flowing through you as your vision began to become hazy. Biting down on your bottom lip enough to draw blood as you tried to stop yourself from screaming out for him.
“Don’t hide it, baby. Lemme hear it.” Bakugou rasped between sharp breaths, his cock pulsing inside you at the beginning of his own release, “Lemme hear how good I make you feel.”
Everything felt so intense, so raw as Bakugou continued ramming into you. Your inner walls fluttering around him in the telltale signs of your release, squeezing his cock as you felt yourself reaching your climax.
“Come on, Princess. Cum for me-” You keened as Bakugou continued whispering encouraging words to you, angling his hips so he repeatedly hit that same spot inside you he knew would have you seeing stars, “I know you’re fuckin’ close I can feel ya clampin’ down on me.”
“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl-” He grunted when he felt your walls begin to pulse around him, milking his cock as you came. Never giving up his pace as his vermilion eyes trained on you, thrusting upwards as his cock drove into you with reckless abandon, watching your face contort in pleasure as you came around him.
You cried out his name, not even caring if anyone heard you. Your body beginning to shudder as you felt an earth-shattering climax surge through you. Knocking the air from your lungs as your body collapsed forward. Your sweaty chest pressed against his as he continued whispering sweet praises. Bakugou’s arms curling around your back to hold you against him as he greedily used you for his own release. Fucking his thick cock into you as his thrusts became sloppier, guttural grunts leaving his lips.
“Can I- Where do you want it?” Bakugou grunted, unsure how much longer he could hold back as he felt himself teetering on the edge of his release.
“Inside, please cum inside me-” Your lips pressed against his collar bone as you pleaded your request.
Bakugou’s hips faltering at just how sweet you sounded in your request, burying himself deep inside you one last time as he let go. White, hot ropes of cum spurting from his thick cock and coating your inner walls as he continued to rut his hips against you, riding out his release.
Bakugou wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug as he held you against his heaving chest. A light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies as it made you stick together comfortably, his hair pressed back from his forehead from sweat as he pressed gentle kisses to the top of your head as you both regained your breath.
“That was so fuckin’ good.” Bakugou panted, keeping himself buried inside you for a few more precious moments as he cherished the way your walls fluttered around his softening cock in the aftershocks to your orgasm.
Resting your cheek on his pectoral as you let yourself relax into him, his scent lulling you to sleep as another slow song played out over the speakers. When Bakugou made a move to lift you off his cock you let out a childish whine as you tried to feebly tighten your thighs around his hips.
“Come on, baby. ‘m gonna pull out, okay?” This time you let him lift you off his cock, some of his cum dribbling out of your cunt and onto his pelvis as he tucked you into his side. Letting you nuzzle into his armpit as you curled a thigh over one of his legs, staying as close to him as possible. Bakugou’s eyes immediately moving down to his crotch where some of his release had spilt out of you and onto his lower half. Groaning as he felt his semi-hard cock throb at the thought of your velvety walls again, already thinking about slipping back inside you.
Bakugou continued stroking his hands along your exposed skin, both of you uncaring that you were laying half-naked in your bed above the covers. His lips continued to press gentle kisses against your forehead as he felt you begin to draw absent-minded lines against his pectoral.
“We need to shower,” Bakugou murmured gently, pressing more kisses to your head.
“I know,” You pouted, but you weren’t ready to get up just yet. Still basking in the scent of him, nuzzling your nose against his side as you tightened your arm around his waist.
“No-” You whined when he tried to lift his body up, placing your weight against his side to try and anchor him back down for a moment longer. The motion caused him to smirk as he lay back down. His feet were still positioned on the floor as you curled up near the end of the bed, “Can we just stay like this a bit longer-”
“‘m not going anywhere, you know that?” Bakugou relaxed back against your mattress,
“I still can’t believe I fucked to my own song.” Bakugou grinned, a dopey look on his face that had you rolling your eyes.
“Ugh, I guess this means I’m stuck with you, doesn’t it?” You teased playfully, his gaze meeting your own as he turned his head down to look at you.
“You love it, Princess.” Bakugou smirked as he moved a palm to your thigh, clinging to it as he lifted it higher against his leg, “Besides, someones gotta stick around and fix your shitty music taste.”
“Is that your way of asking me out?” You laughed as you pressed a chaste kiss to his pec.
“I’m not asking, I’m tellin’ you-” Bakugou smirked cockily, “You need all the fuckin’ help you can get.”
“You’re such an asshole, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know you love me really, Princess.” Bakugou smirked, pulling you into him as he pressed his lips to the top of your head. “You better tell everyone you were actin’ crazy the last few months and we’re really your favourite fuckin’ band though.”
“Or maybe we can just start by telling everyone you don’t suck that much,”
“I’m telling everyone you got one of my songs on your ‘fuck me’ playlist.” He tightened his grip on your thigh to prevent you from even attempting to move away.
“That was not my ‘fuck me’ playlist.” You replied with a flustered heat on your cheeks.
“Oh yeah? Well, I think it is now-”
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Big ass alpha Bakugou that omegas and even betas flock to. He just sneers at everyone and continues on with his day, only having eyes for his pretty little omega assistant that takes such good care of him and even shows up at his house to cook for him from time to time. It never got official, but it's almost like an unspoken rule that you're his, and he's yours. You stand by him on the train, and practically have to be in his lap when in the backseat of cars because he's so big and takes up so much space. He gets so angry when your heat hits and you don't come into work that he goes to your apartment, and he can smell you. He can smell it from down the street, and all the way up the staircase, and your hallway is practically drowning in it, so much that he has to swat away other's from outside your door just so he can get to you. He's trying so hard not to drop into a rut from the overwhelming smell of you, panting and sweating while he taps on the door and drools when you get closer. He almost tells you not to open the door... but you can smell him, and you need your alpha, but the second the lock clicks he's practically ripping the door off the hinges to get to you. It's not his fault you smell so sweet and so strong and put him into a rut, no... but it is his fault that you're walking around his house in one of his shirt with a round tummy filled with his pups a few months later.
i'll actually cum in my pants. he’s so hnnnnggg... fuck.
cw: a/b/o, alpha!bakugou, power dynamics, dubcon (boss / employee), knotting, pregnancy
bakugou, who is usually so disinterested in omegas that people rumored the pro-hero to only date betas. he just... never showed a real interest in them. it actually gave him a bit of a nasty streak because, unlike most alphas, bakugou didn't have a soft spot for pretty little omegas. until he met you, of course.
you caught him by surprise the first time you walked in, answering his add for an assistant to help keep the home and keep his papers organized. he knew you'd be an omega, it said so on your application when you applied, but you were more than qualified and he's never been too concerned with second genders. but when he opened the door to let you into his apartment, your scent hit him like a truck. bakugou had never once had to pause in his stride because of an omega, but he did with you. and he did it every time, taking a deep breath before he let you into his apartment to cook and clean for the day.
bakugou rarely let you accompany him to work, but when he did, people whispered about the pretty new omega working under him. they asked about you to others, whispered about how good you smelled and how fucking pretty you'd be under them.
he put a stop to that shit as soon as he heard it. bakugou didn’t know why but he was protective over you and it didn’t take anyone very long for anyone to figure out that you were fucking his. it’s not like you minded either. bakugou was... desirable to say the least, big and strong and smelled so good that he nearly had your knees buckling each time he walked near you. you had no qualms with being claimed by him, though you swore up and down that your relationship was strictly professional.
you both knew it wasn’t, especially after the first time you called him when you were in heat. it was a delirious choice, whining for him to come over so he could take care of you through the receiver. bakugou should have hesitated, should have told you that he’d drop some medicine outside of your door, but instead he found himself indulging you and heading to your place, blood boiling with the thought of how you’d look split open on his cock.
you smelled him before you saw him, opening the door to your small apartment and letting that primal desire take over as you drank in the sight of him. he was sweating, chest heaving at the door before taking your hips in his big hands and pushing you backwards.
fuck, you smelled good, so fucking sweet. bakugou swore he could smell you from down the street, the way you cunt ached for his knot. he could barely contain himself as he whispered promises of taking care of you, telling you that he was gonna give it all to you. it’s what you deserve. you deserve to be stuffed with my cum, yeah? that’s what he said while he plugged you up, big hands holding your knees to your chest as he broke you open on the thick stretch of his cock.
he almost couldn’t pay attention to the way you keened for him, back arching as you tried to kiss and lick at his neck to taste some of the intoxicating smell that you wanted so badly. you begged bakugou to knot you, begged the pro-hero to stuff you full. you wanted it to hurt, wanted him to be so deep in you that you couldn’t breathe. who was he to deny you that? such a pretty fucking omega begging for him like that, it made his cock twitch inside of you.
bakugou gave you everything you asked for, biting at your neck before pulling away to watch your face contort as his cock started to swell. you felt the pop, the way it plugged you so deep as he flooded your body with him, knot soothing the delirious high your heat left you in as you writhed under him. he cooed for you to take it, to take all of it just like you wanted. and you nod, listening to your alpha with furrowed brows and a mewl that could have brought anyone to their knees.
it became a regular thing after that. things strictly professional until they weren’t and he had you plugged up with his cock to quell your heat. it became official when you took time off, only occasionally visiting the office to drop paper work off until your visits became all but nonexistent. people wondered if you’d lost your job, asking bakugou about his omega assistant and her whereabouts. he only scowled at them, telling them to mind their fuckin’ business before returning to whatever he was doing.
finally though, he’d had enough of the whispers, bringing you into the office in one of his oversized merch shirts and a round belly swollen with his child. that sure as hell shut them up. you’re fuckin’ his and this proved it.
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How the MHA Boys eat Pussy
+ genre. nsfw
+ warnings. mentions of well…pussy eating
With one hand holding your arms and the other gently rubbing your clit
Todoroki goes slow and makes sure you’re experiencing maximum pleasure
Sometimes, he gets so into it that you’ll feel little hot or cold flashes on your skin
From the back, with his right hand holding you down so you can’t push him away and his left slapping your ass if you even try
Bakugou never half-asses anything, which is why he eats pussy until he sees tears streaming down your face
He isn’t satisfied and he isn’t stopping until he’s made you cum at least three times
With his ass in the air, sucking on your clit and holding your hand with his right
With his left, he likes to use One For All sometimes to send little shocks through your body
This man will eat you out until he’s blue in the face, you gotta remind him to come up for air sometimes
Hawks eats pussy like it’s his last meal
He always wants you sitting on his face so he has absolute full access
Don’t even think about getting up either, this man will hold you down and eat you out until his last breath
After all, who needs air anyways?
Underneath the table while you sit on his office chair, legs wide open for him
He likes to stuff your panties in your mouth to keep you quiet, since this man’s tongue is sent from heaven
He’ll make you cum on tongue like it’s nothing and then he’ll pull you into a kiss so you can taste yourself
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mafia bakugou x f!reader
summary - if you’d known the person you were stealing from was bakugou katsuki, you’d never have taken the job in the first place. p/rn with plot.
(PLEASE READ) a/n: bakugou is in his early thirties, reader is 26. this is not a fluff fic, expect some violence, choking, violent threats, bakugou’s less than ethical interrogation techniques, reader’s into it but consent would be dubious if she werent, some yan undertones, implied reader x kiribaku, fingering, degradation, praise, dom!bakugou, bakugou being a cocky condescending little shit, he calls the reader cunt a few times, rough sex, use of pussy as an insult. spitting, katsuki is down bad for reader, so is kirishima, kidnapping, protective bakugou, no prep, daddy kink, corruption(not the kink the political kind), quirk collar, mention of a leash but no real petplay in the s/mut if youre not sure if you should read this, please send me an ask, ill help ya out. could be part one? unclear.
for @semisgroupies gangland collab
Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you teleport the last fifteen feet up your fire escape and into your apartment, collapsing exhausted on your shitty couch. You close your eyes and attempt to calm your breathing, humming softly when you can to stop the anxiety that’s turning your tendons to iron, holding you in place.
You can’t afford to let your guard down, can’t afford to let the men who followed you know where you live, where you were hiding. You’d have to move, maybe out of the city, maybe out of the country. No one crossed Bakugou Katsuki, even accidentally, and lived to tell the tale. You sigh deeply, finally able to to breathe normally after your sprint across the city, sitting up on your threadbare green couch, pulling your backpack off and digging through it. Even if you hadn't meant to take it, you were glad you had it now.
The ticket to your new life gleams silver and green. The functioning metal gauntlet from Bakugou Katsuki’s short-lived Pro Hero career had slammed against your back with every frantic leap on your sprint out of his penthouse apartment. You could feel it’s point of impact keenly now, it’s gentle throb would keep you from sleeping on your back for a few days, wherever you started your new life. You rub your eyes, giving yourself another thirty seconds of rest before making a call to your contact.
“Did you get it?” Tooru asks, bored.
“Got something better,” you say quickly and there’s a rush of static as he sighs, “No really this time-”
“You know when someone hires you to do a job through me,” he drawls, “I occasionally expect that job to get done.”
“Well you,” you zip the bag up, looking around your apartment for anything you might want to bring with you when you dipped, “You didn’t tell me that the person staying in the penthouse was Bakugou fuking Katsuki, what the hell did that guy think I was gonna do? Bring him enough evidence to convict? Nah I’m in the wind. And don’t ever give me a job from a government official again, there was no way I was getting Taichi the shit he wanted..”
“Holy shit,” For once in his life, Tooru sounds awake, “Jesus christ, did anyone see you?”
“Fuck no,” You’re only paying partial attention, fumbling in your desk drawer for the trigger to open it’s false bottom. “You know me, I’m a fucking ghost, but I got,” you adjust the phone as the bottom of the drawer clicks open and you dump the pencils, “I got one of his gauntlets.” There’s a pause on the other end of the phone.
“You, you didn’t.”
“I did,” you chirp, “Much better than a fucking flash drive or whatever,” you shove all the unmarked bills into your bag, carefully selecting the passport with the most attractive photo of yourself.
“No,” Tooru swallows, “You gotta put that shit back, you’re gonna get fucking shot, y/n,”
“I took care of the cameras,” you protest, “It’s better than copying his hard drive, probably, I’m fucking good at this, okay, have I ever let you down.” There’s another silence, all you can hear is the clicking of a keyboard.
“No,” he says eventually, “No you haven’t.”
“I’m gonna disappear for a bit, I’ll give you a call when I have a new number.”
“Jesus christ.” He sounds genuinely sick with concern. “You don’t know what kind of a situation you’re putting me in.”
“I’m the one who stole it! Can you fence it or not,” You bend down to tie one of your shoes, phone balanced between your shoulder and your ear. “Tooru you know if you say no, someone else is going to say yes, baby, but we go way back so I called you first,” You snag your toothbrush and paste, and only the most expensive parts of your skincare routine, moving to your tiny bedroom, “So I called you first.” You’re shoving some leggings and t shirts into your bag, running to the closet for your coat, it’s still warm for now but it would be cold soon. And you wouldn’t be back here again.
“Yeah uh,” he sounds strange, far off, “Yeah you back at your place?” You freeze.
“Just answer the question.” He says, and his tone is sharper than you’ve ever heard it. “Quickly.”
“Tooru,” you jam your arms into the sleeves of the jacket, and swing your backpack over your shoulders, “Tooru,” you repeat, “What’s up?” You’ve got one handle on the door when you hear footsteps on the stairs. It hits you hard, all at once. The door is wrenched open and you run back away from it, hoping your quirk can handle more use, three men come running up the stairs.
“You fucking narc,” you snarl into the phone, “You wanna suck his dick so badly your goddamn knees are gonna get bruised,” one of them grabs at you and you teleport across the small space, moving towards the window,
“I can’t afford to piss him off!” Tooru protests, a near whine, “It’s not personal, listen, if you live through this I hope we can still work together,” you draw your arm back and whip the phone at one of the men, catching them hard in the face. You teleport again, figuring the jig was up, they likely knew your quirk already since Tooru gave you up, and you make it out the window, thundering down the fire escape, Bakugou Katsuki’s gauntlet slamming into your back through your bag with every stride.
The men behind you are even louder, you’re going so fast you nearly trip, having a brief image of your brains dashed on the rusted metal ladder flash before your eyes. You jump off and land hard, feet throbbing with pain for one full second before you can take off running down the alley and into the street. You’d lose them, you reasoned, this was a bad neighborhood, you could ditch them then teleport to a place they’d already searched, and then wait it out. You’d buy an airplane ticket in cash and- SLAM. You run face first into a huge man’s chest, you’re knocked to the ground, hard.
“Alright,” You hear the man groan a little, leaning down and taking you by the wrist, lifting you up off your feet, letting you dangle in the air at arm's length. You kick and swing but he takes a walkie talkie off his belt and speaks into it, “Yeah, we got her, she went down the fire escape-whoa there sweetheart,” you kick high and nearly get a firm impact on the fist that he’s holding the phone with, “No sense in fighting,” the man says to you, utterly and annoyingly calm, “Just chill out for me.” You pull a last ditch, desperate move, teleporting you both as high as you can comfortably reach, and letting the two of you fall hard to the ground.
He twists in the air unexpectedly, shielding your body completely from the impact of the fall, the ground cracking and breaking underneath his weight.
“Let’s not do that again, huh?” You look up at him and his body has changed, skin shingled and sharp, hardened. He grunts and pushes himself to his feet going back to holding you in the air arms length away from his body, now his suit is shredded, and somehow he’s even larger, you kick and swing but you can’t even reach him. The two men leap from the fire escape, the blonde one rubbing his nose, wiping some blood on the back of his hand.
“Hey, at least you got her phone,” The dark haired one jeers.
“It fucking hurt, Sero,” the blonde snaps, glowering at you, “Stupid bitch.” Your eyes flash and you catch him hard across the jaw with a well timed kick, and he stumbles back away from you and the redhead, swearing violently.
“Alright,” You hear the redhead say, “I’ve been, more than polite, given the circumstances.” You feel him wrap his free hand around your throat. “But I think I said chill the fuck out.” You squirm a little and then still, narrowing your eyes at him as he holds you by the wrists, letting your body dangle in the air. “That’s a good girl,” he says condescendingly, and you see the sharp flash of his teeth.
“Let’s get her back,” Sero says, “I’ll grab her bag.”
“I hope he fucking kills her.” The blonde grumbles, as Sero unclips your backpack off of your shoulders, and unzips it. “Is it in there?” The dark haired man sighs with relief, nodding.
“Yeah, thank fucking god, Denki, it’s in there.”
“We have to keep ahold of her,” The redhead says, “Or she’ll teleport away from us, so one of you grab the car, and we’ll take her back to his place.” You squirm a little more, your wrists starting to ache from being dangled by them.
“You could,” you wheeze, you’re not sure if it’s intentional, but the pressure on your windpipe is mounting, “You could just let me go, you’d never see me again, I swear,” the pressure increases.
“That’s real cute,” the redhead, Kirishima, chuckles, choking you harder, “Take a little nap for me, huh?” You gurgle some kind of response as you struggle to keep your eyelids open. “Let go,” he urges, “It’ll hurt more if you fight it.”
“Can’t,” you whisper, “Can’t not fight.” And the last thing you see is a flash of recognition in his eyes before you lose consciousness. He slings your body over his shoulder, relaxing his quirk.
“He’s not gonna kill her, Denki.” Kirishima says, shaking his head.
“He might,” Denki says, hopefully, “He was not happy when we left.” The three men pile back into a dark, sleek escalade, Sero drives back through the city, and Kirishima holds you seated upright in the backseat, limp against his shoulder. “Maybe you killed her,” Denki says, waving his hand in front of your face experimentally.
“I know what I’m doing,” Kirishima responds coolly, “And things’ll go better for her if she’s not fighting and screaming and cursing at him when we get back.”
“And you care,” Denki coos, voice dripping with sarcasm, “You care, you don’t want him to kill her.” Kirishima doesn't take the bait, just shrugging.
“It’s messy. I hate even watching someone else clean that up.”
“That’s fucking true,” Sero says, shivering. After a few more minutes he pulls off the highway, taking an off ramp exit that leads out of the city and into the glossy rolling hills of the suburbs. The mansions are large, the cars are expensive, and the lawns are lush and green a far cry from the dirt of the city you’d left behind. You miss all of it, out cold and nearly drooling on Kirishima’s shoulder. They pull the car into the garage, and Kirishima carries you like a child, your head resting on his chest, one arm tucked under your thighs, the other, holding you upright.
Kirishima takes you up to Bakugou’s office alone, knocking softly on the door but nnot waiting for the affirmative before stepping in.
“That’s the thief?” Bakugou raises an eyebrow, not bothering with greetings. “She’s young.”
“Yeah, according to her driver's license,” Kirishima tosses Bakugou your wallet, “She’s 26.” Bakugou flips through the nondescript leather, some 7/11 receipts, a debit card, no photo of your family. Kirishima deposits you carefully in the chair in front of Bakugou’s mahogany desk. “She’s a real piece of work, heads up, but uh,” Kirishima shoves his hands in his pocket, “If you decide to kill her, uh, I’ll take her. I think she’s cute.”
“You think she’s cute?” Bakugou repeats, reaching out and brushing some hair from your face, “You fucked up her neck, idiot.” He lifts your head by cupping your jaw, his thumb sinking into your cheek. “Maybe I want her.” Kirishima shrugs.
“I can share.” He hands the blond something black and leather. “Get this on her before she wakes up though, or she’ll be neither of ours.” Bakugou nods, carefully fastening the black leather quirk collar around your neck.
“Should we tie her down?” Bakugou asks.
“Without her quirk it was pretty easy to subdue her.” Kirishima shrugs. “You could probably handle her with one hand behind your back.” Bakugou smirks, adjusting your head so that you’re unconsciously leaning back in the office chair, rather than painfully folded in on yourself.
“I assume you know who I am.” He says and you nod.
“Bakugou Katsuki.” You confirm, and your voice is softer, it hurts to speak a little, but it’s not just that, your hands fly to your neck and you feel the collar.
“S to stop you from usin’ your quirk,” He explains seeing your confusion. “I don’t have time to chase ya down,” He stretches a little.
“Am I, are you going to kill me?” You ask, voice a little stronger now. He inspects you clinically, regarding the way concern twists at your mouth before you regain control of it.
“Probably not myself.” He shrugs.
“I thought you’d be angrier.” You say, hands trembling, because fuck, you didn’t want to die but what did you have to lose if he’d already decided?
“I could yell atcha,” He says, placing his palms flat on the desk and standing. “I could say, who the fuck do you think you are, stealin’ from me,” you hear it now, the quiver of emotion in his voice, “I could say, that you’re the dumbest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever met, thinkin’ you could get away from me,” he walks around the desk, “And I’d be fuckin right.” His voice is a low rasp, almost a growl. “Wouldn’t I?” He looks at you, taking your face roughly in one hand, “I asked you a fuckin’ question, cunt.”
“Yesh,” you get out, the way he’s holding your face distorts your speech.
“So you’re going to tell me,” he says, leaning down and speaking directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “Exactly how you got into my apartment in the city. And who hired you.” You blink up at him, he releases your face, “And I will make your death quick, rather than slow.” You swallow, and tuck your hair behind your ears, it’s not like this job had given you a choice..
“What I’m hearing, is that I have information you want,” you shrug, “Let me go and I’ll tell you.” He leans back, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Those are not good choices,” You protest, “I can’t appreciate that you gave me a short death when I’m dead, I’m not telling you who let me in-” at those words his hands spark, good, he was taking the bait, “Unless you-”
“Someone let you in?” He snaps, and you maintain the act pretending like you’ve revealed more than you should have.
“You didn’t know?” You cock your head and sigh, hoping it’s convincing. “Maybe you’re not as good as they say.” Something in his jaw twitches, and before you can speak again he’s lifting you by your bruised throat and slamming you against the wall of his office.
“You think you can fuckin’ toy with me,” he tightens his grip. “You think I can be manipulated like that, by some cheap fuckin’ shot like that? My people are loyal. No one would let you into my goddamn apartment.” You gasp, clawing at his hand, but it doesn’t seem to affect him.
“I-if that’s what you think,” you wheeze, “Then just kill me, just finish the job right now.” You barely get the last word out as he tightens his fist, his face inches from yours. For a second you think maybe he will, but he lets you go, turning away. You crumple to the floor, gasping for breath as he stalks to the intercom on his desk.
“We’ve got a goddamn issue,” he snarls, and you can practically feel the house come to life at his words, hear people scrambling to get him the things he wants. “As for you,” you’re struggling to sit up, still trying to catch your breath, “If I find out you’re lying, I will kill you personally.” You swallow, wondering how much time you’ve bought yourself, how much trouble you’re really in. Anything would be better than death, you reason, and if you can get this collar off you could be in the wind. Running from the mafia and from the hero commission, you’d never been more grateful to have quirk that made you hard to catch. Bakugou turns his attention back to you, yanking you to your feet, but you’re so dizzy you crash into his chest, unable to stand upright.
“I’m gonna find out whether you’re lyin’ to me,” he says, in his low growl, holding you up by the waist, enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his, “C’mon,” he throws your body over his shoulder with a soft grunt, pushing out of his office and stalking down the hallway. Your head is still buzzing, but you hear a door close behind you and feel yourself being placed on the ground. “While I’m waitin’ on the security footage,” he says, pulling a old wooden chair across the room, “I’m gonna give you the opportunity to prove your life is worth something.” You swallow, your vision clearing again, you’re, oh shit. You’re in a bedroom, his bedroom, the same dark stained wood you saw covering the panels in his office. You’re sure it’s his room because of the way he’s sitting in front of you, the way he leans over you, like you’re a peasant in his domain. Your eyes flick to the door and he chuckles.
“Give it your best shot, sweetheart. Give me a reason to waste you. I want one.” You swallow, bowing your head a little. “That’s it,” he coos, “Come to terms with your situation,” he takes you by the back of the head, “You’re gonna suck my cock.”
“R-really?” You blink up at him, surprised, and his smile grows, despite the situation, the innocence on your face makes him feel like he finally has the upper hand.
“Really.” He says, mocking you. “You wanna live?” You nod slowly. “Get to work.” He gestures to his crotch, and you bite down hard on your lip as you unzip his fly and tug his pants down around his ankles. He’s about to snap at you, when you lean forward and lick the length of his balls, the warmth and sensation pulling a low growl from his lips. You look up at him, and he meets your eyes, and he doesn't have to give the order for you to know that looking away would be a bad idea. You feel him tighten his grip on your hair, pushing you up against him harder. He tastes salty, and you try to shove what you’re doing to the back of your mind, to go somewhere else as he moves your mouth where he wants it, shoving his length down your throat, not caring about the drool that drips down your mouth and onto your chin, or for the way your eyes water when he pushes too hard to allow you a breath.
“Fuck,” he snarls, “C’mere,” he orders, but doesn’t give you a choice, lifting you by the waist and tossing you onto his bed. He moves you so that your head is hanging over the edge and pushes his heavy cock between your lips, fucking your face, occasionally stopping to paw at your breasts, or to let you take a gasping, sputtering breath. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he says, in what you imagine is his best attempt at speaking softly. “You ready to talk to me?” He’s combing his fingers through your hair softly, at odds with the rough way he’s touched you so far. You’re so busy catching your breath you almost don’t respond, but he waits, nearly patient.
“What, what do you want to know?” You breathe, eyes closed.
“Who let you into my apartment?” He asks, and you feel the rhythm of his soft touches change a little.
“Can’t, can’t tell you.” You mumble. “Even if you hurt me, I can’t-” He lifts you, throwing you onto your stomach on the bed, yanking leggings down and palming your ass. “This,” you gasp, feeling him pull your body across his lap, “This can’t be how you normally get information from people.” He slips a finger under your panties,
“Just pretty little thieves.” He growls, and you laugh bitterly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t prefer my other interrogation techniques, would you?” You consider, and shake your head.
“Don’t suppose that means you’d take this collar off and let me go,” you twist your back to look at him but he doesn’t spare you a glance.
“Nah,” he says, “You’re a fuckin’ criminal,” he raises a hand and brings it down hard on your backside. You suck in a sharp breath as the pain blooms across your skin, “And I’m a law abidin’ citizen, ain’t I?”
“Am I supposed to answer that?” You ask and he spanks you again, even harder this time, bringing tears to your eyes.
“Mouthy fuckin’ cunt.” He grunts, doing it again, and again, until he hears you sniff delicately. “You want me to stop?” He asks, rubbing over the affected area with warm calloused hands.
“Y-yes,” more pain evident in your voice than you expect.
“Why don’tcha make it easy on yourself, then,” he says, “And just tell me what happened?”
“Why,” you wipe your teary face on his blanket, “So you can kill me slowly?” He barks out a laugh, and brings his hand down on your ass again, not stopping until you’re crying in earnest, his cock throbbing in his pants.
“Aww,” he coos with mock kindness, “Is baby in pain, does it hurt?” You ignore him, just grateful for the break. “I’ll make ya a deal,” he says, “Tell me who hired you to break into my place and you can have dinner?” You wipe your face.
“A last meal?” You quip and he shakes his head.
“Can’t believe you’re still makin’ jokes.” He says and you shrug. “Nah, maybe I won’t kill ya, maybe I’ll keep ya.” You stiffen and he rubs a soothing circle into your skin.
“Bullshit.” You lay your face down on the mattress.
“You would rather die than belong to me?” He asks, still squeezing and groping at the softest parts of you, watching the way you curl into him, into the warmth of his touch, “Rather die than give up whoever was payin’ ya, who let you into my place?” You swallow, and whisper, throat aching.
“No, I don’t want to die.”
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and you feel his fingers ghost the outside of your panties, and freeze. “Are you wet?” He says in disbelief. You cover your face with your hands, feeling your face burn. “Jesus christ,” he chuckles, “That’s kinda fucked. Soakin’ your panties while I threaten your life, huh?”
“Just get it over with.” You mumble.
“Nahhh,” he drawls, not hiding his delight at all, “Seems like you’ve got a problem I could solve.” You feel him slip the wet fabric to the side, and run a finger up your folds, your whole body trembles. “You know without your quirk you’re helpless.” You nod, letting out a shaky breath and he pushes. “Completely at my mercy,” he draws the words out, watches them hit you, and with his free hand he tugs on the little black collar around your neck. “If you want it, you’re gonna have to ask. Be a good little thief for me” His touches are light now, teasing. You bite down harder on your lower lip, trying to fight the warmth between your legs. The idea of being at the mercy of Bakugou Katsuki, ruthless and powerful, was clouding your usually quick judgement. But you know what your limits are.
“I can’t, I can’t give people up, Bakugou, but especially this person, it’s not worth the trouble.” You look up at him, a burning earnestness in your eyes that takes hm aback. He nods, still teasing you, running his calloused hands across the inside of your thighs, making you squirm.
“Here’s what I think,” he says, in a low rasp that goes straight to your core. “I think no one let you into my apartment, and I think you said that, because you don’t wanna tell me who hired you for the job, or because you don’t know, which would mean you have zero leverage here.” You don’t say anything for a moment, weighing your options.
“You’re wrong, about at least one of those things.” You say eventually, and he spanks you hard again, watching the way your ass moves. This time, you let out a short yelp, the pain taking you by surprise.
“I got time,” he says with a shrug, “I can draw this out, but you’re not gonna enjoy it.”
“I don’t give people up.” You mumble. “I’m not Tooru.” Bakugou snickers.
“Yeah he’s a pussy. Listen, what if,” he proposes, and the light touches are back, you feel him push your thighs apart, “I help ya take care of this problem,” he parts your folds and he’s right, you’re soaked, “And you solve one problem for me.”
“Fine,” you breathe, poorly concealing your desperation, and he smirks.
“Ask nicely, theif.” He takes a fistful of your bruised ass and then lets it go.
“Please touch me.” You say, through gritted teeth.
“Where?” He says, circling your clit but not giving you any relief, feeling all the blood rush below his waist again as you whine.
“Please, touch my pussy.” You mumble, it’s almost a whine, and it goes straight to his cock.
“That’s a good girl,” he slips a single finger inside you experimentally, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Immediately, you're mewling softly, back arching off his lap, “Hands behind your back,” he orders and you obey, folding them behind you. He holds both of your wrists in one hand, adding a second finger to your core, “You’re gonna tell me,” he presses up against that spongy spot inside you, pulling a choked out moan from your lips, “Who let you into my apartment?”
“No,” you gasp. “No I’m not.” He picks up the pace a little.
“Yeah you are, c’mon,” he feels you start to shake beneath him as the pleasure builds in your mind, as that hot coil tightens in your abdomen. “C’mon baby, dontcha wanna live?”
“I do,” you moan, “I do wanna live.” The pressure is building, you’re either incredibly attracted to him, or he’s incredibly skilled, your mind is operating slowly, your lips part, you let out another gasp. “Please, I want to live, Bakugou,” you plead. He nods, achingly pleased with himself, his own cock stiff in his suit pants, you can feel it pressing into your abdomen.
“And you wanna cum, dontcha? I can feel it.” Tears prick at your eyes. How embarrassing, cumming all over a mob bosses fingers. “Tell me what I wanna know and I’ll let you cum, sweetheart.” You grit your teeth and think about trying to squirm away from him, knowing it’s pointless, knowing you’d asked for this, knowing you liked this, that you wanted more, that you wanted to cum.
“N-no one, I, I got in myself.” You choke out. “You won’t see me on the f-footage.”
“Good girl.” He crows, “Cum for me,” he sets a slightly faster pace with his fingers, paying more careful attention to your clit, “Cum f’daddy.” The coil in your stomach snaps and you spasm in his arms, gushing around his fingers as your orgasm rips through you like a knife. He carries you carefully through your high, delighting in the way you fall apart for him, the way your lips part, and your eyes open wide, the soft sounds that are all for him, all his.
He withdraws his hands from you and dangles them in front of your face, you seem to understand the implicit order and lick his fingers clean. “I knew you could be sweet.” He mocks, and you nod dumbly, still trembling a little. “Ready to tell daddy who hired you?” You shake your head. “That’s a fuckin’ shame, ain’t it?” He releases your wrists and rolls you over, sitting you up in his lap. “I’ve been real nice,” he rumbles, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes as your ass throbs. “That can change, baby, I don’t hafta be nice.”
“It’s the only thing I have keeping you from killing me.” You whisper, lifting your head to him. “And if you let me live, he’ll kill me for giving him up, so it really doesn’t matter.” Bakugou nods slowly, starting to understand.
“What if I protected ya, in exchange for the information?”
“You were threatening my life half an hour ago,” you snip, “I’d be actually stupid to trust you.” Bakugou considers, it’s true, that before you’d sat before him he’d had every intention of killing you. However, this was interesting, he needed to know who’d hired you, and if he thinks too much about your warm, tight cunt he’ll lose all access to his sanity.
“I told ya I’d keep you.” He says, and it’s a threat he’s vowing to make good on. “Gimme your hands.” You obey, holding your wrists out in front of you. He stands, taking a length of red rope out of a drawer in his bedside table. He fastens them together and then to his headboard. You take a deep breath, and close your eyes.
“I’ll be back.” He tells you and you don’t respond to him, a muscle in your jaw twitching. “Stop tryna use your quirk.” He rolls his eyes, “I’ll send one of them in with dinner for ya, I got work to do.”
A few hours later Bakugou storms into the dining room, where Kirishima, Sero, and Denki are waiting for him.
“She dead yet?” Denki grumbles, an ice pack on his cheek.
“Nah.” Bakugou shakes his head. “Here’s what I think. Someone dangerous hired her to steal somethin’ from me that wasn’t the gauntlet, she decided she could get more fencing it than whatever she was supposed to get from me.”
“Shit,” Kirishima. “So what’s the plan?”
“I think we can use her,” Bakugou says carefully, “But we gotta earn her trust, and we can’t let her go, she’ll be in the fuckin’ wind, without that asshole givin’ her up we’d never have caught her in the first place. I checked out the security footage, it’s like she wasn’t there at all. No sign of her.”
“Ugh.” Denki says. “Tell me you at least made her cry or something, for my honor.” He gestures to his face. Bakugou grins evilly.
“Baby cried a little.” He shrugs. “Certainly proved she has,” he considers his words, “A few purposes.” Kirishima shakes his head at the blonde, a little reproach in his eyes. “Don’t give me that shit Eij,” Bakugou snaps, “She’s the one who got wet while I was interrogating her.”
“Of course she did.” Kirishima says brightly. “Anyway, do we need to see about accommodations, if she’s gonna be a long term,” he pauses, “A longer term guest?” Bakugou considers.
“I could clean up the basement?” Sero says, “And by that I mean I could order someone else to clean up the basement?”
“She can stay with me.” Bakugou says eventually. “She probably needs supervision most of the time anyway.”
“If you get tired of her I’ll take her,” Kirishima says, feigning disinterest a little too well.
“Aw,” Bakugou coos, “You like the bitch.”
“You both like her.” Denki grumbles, “So you can’t make fun of each other, you should have seen the way he carried her in here. Like she was some fuckin kid.”
“You just don’t like her because she got the drop on you.” Sero smirks.
“Whatever,” Denki puts his feet up on the table.
“So her employer,” Bakugou says, changing the subject, “They booked her through her
fence, that much Tooru will tell me. He didn’t know who it was, apparently it’s a guy, she said he’d kill ‘er if she gave him up. Tooru said she met him once, saw his face, which is probably why she wanted to be in the wind after the job.”
“So she’s cute, smarter than you, and definitely trouble,” Denki ducks when Bakugou swipes at him, “That ticks all of your boxes.”
“It’s a problem,” Kirishima says, ignoring the kerfuffle. “Because if we’ve decided not to kill her,” he glances at Bakugou who looks away, “We have to take responsibility for the asset. Assuming that deciding not to kill her means we care if she dies.” Bakugou sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah, let’s assume that. What’s next?”
“Well,” Sero pipes up, “We have to find out what she was supposed to steal. How goes the interrogation?” Bakugou hesitates.
“She doesn’t wanna give up her employer until we prove we’re not gonna kill her no matter what. We could break her, but it seems like it’d be work. And be messy.”
“And you don’t wanna fuck up her pretty face.” Denki grumbles, and Bakugou’s hands spark.
“We have to make her trust us, then, but if we take that collar off, she’ll be gone.” Sero stands. “We know it’s probably a rival.”
“Do we?” Denki says, lifting his head, sounding serious for the first time. “I mean, if it’s the commission, trying to get your information, so that they can finally throw you in prison…” He trails off, thinking about it, “Then she’d really be in trouble, in enough trouble that taking your gauntlet would sound like a really good idea.” There’s a silence.
“They wouldn’t hire a thief though.” Kirishima says eventually, “They don’t work with villains.” Bakugou sighs again.
“Either way she’s not gonna give it up unless we get real rough or if we earn her trust. She doesn’t have any external pain points, no family, lives alone. The only person there’s any record of her interacting with in the last few months is her fence.”
“Do you think the fact that she’s tied to your headboard is helping or hurting the trust thing?” Denki needles, and Bakugou’s scowl deepens.
“Helpin’, because I’ve been way nicer than I coulda been.” He snaps.
A few hours later he makes his way back upstairs, it’s late, and you’re sleeping soundly. You’ve pulled his duvet over your body as much as you can with your legs, and he see’s that the parts of you that are uncovered are pricked with goosebumps. He tugs himself out of his suit, tossing the clothes in the hamper, crawling into his bed in a tank top and boxers. You stir, opening one eye.
“You’re really going to sleep with me?” You stretch a little. “You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
“Bratty fuckin’ cunt.” He growls, reaching an arm out and yanking your body over to his. “If I wanted to fuck you I’d do it.”
“I’ve actually,” you say as he scoots you partially under his body, “I’ve figured you out.” He just grunts in response. “You, despite everything, have your own twisted little moral compass. And you don’t want to hurt me, if you don’t have to.” He reaches down and squeezes your bruised ass, you hiss involuntarily at the pain.
“Checks out.” He says sarcastically. “I definitely don’t want to hurt you.” You squirm a little.
“I would bet money,” you say, “And I’ll remind you that I do have at least $217 dollars to my name,” he snorts, “That if when you’d shoved me on my knees over there,” you jerk your head to the ground next to his bed. “If I’d started crying and begging, you wouldn’t have gone through with it.”
“So what.” Bakugou grumbles. “No one wants to fuck a snotty bitch.”
“You and I both know,” you say brightly, “That there are plenty of men who would.” You meet his gaze. “So why do you care if I trust you?”
“Rhetorical question.” You interrupt. “Because I have information you want, and for some reason you’re opposed to hooking me up to a car battery.” Bakugou rolls his eyes.
“We got Denki, we don’t need a fuckin’ car battery. And don’t ever,” he glares at you, “Interrupt me again or I’ll let him use you to test his limits. He’s beggin’ for a chance to get backatcha” You shudder against him. “Did that finally scare ya?”
“Oh I’m terrified.” You whisper genuinely. “Is my rambling not giving it away?” He considers.
“You’re hidin’ it better than you think you are.” He says quietly, reaching out to cup your cheek with one hand. “Lemme evaluate your hypothesis.” You nod, and wait. “I don’t care about hurtin’ ya. Try and escape and I’ll break your fucking legs, don’t test me.” You swallow. “What I don’t want, is to burn a valuable asset. If no one let you into my place, how the fuck did you get to my safe without triggering alarms or gettin’ caught on camera?”
“You want me to join you?” Your mouth is dry.
“I think it’s a good deal,” he argues, “Given that you need protection from whoever hired you, and from the way you were creamin’ on my fingers today I don’t think you hate me that much.” You tug on the rope tying your wrists to the headboard. “All you gotta do,” he takes your chin gently, bringing your attention back to him, “Is tell me who hired ya, and earn my trust.” Something flits across your face. “You know that I can protect ya,” he says gruffly, “We got a mission here, we got shit we’re doin’, and you could help.” He runs a finger along your jaw, dipping down to your neck, which, between his own handiwork and Kirishima’s, is purpled with bruises. “Or you can stay here, and be my cute, quirkless little fucktoy.”
“Hmmm,” you sigh, pretending to think about it.
“Even with your quirk,” he says, “I could catcha if you ran.”
“I know you believe that.” You smile at him and he scowls.
“Bad idea.” He snarls, his hand is back around your throat in a second. Your eyes prick with tears involuntarily, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were pushin’ my buttons because you want my cock that badly.” He leans in and spits in your open mouth, “Is that how it is, you want my cock so badly you’re brattin’ for it?” He slaps your face lightly, “Swallow.” You obey, looking anywhere but at him, and he climbs on top of you.
“Please,” you mewl, and he rolls his eyes.
“You want me so bad, baby, you coulda asked.” He yanks your leggings down, “Coulda been an obedient fuckin’ slut, huh,” he spits again this time between your legs, rubbing it into your already wet folds. “You always give yourself away, betcha barely need me to prep ya?” You shake your head.
“I don’t give a shit,” he sheaths himself roughly inside you and you keen at the painful burn, feeling every inch of him stretching your painfully, “What you need, fuck.” He collapses on top of you, rutting his hips into yours at an astounding pace, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You like that, you like it when I’m fuckin’ rough with you?” He takes a fistful of your hair. “Answer me when I ask you a goddamn question.”
“Yes,” you cry out, “Yes, yes sir I like it,”
“How badly do you want me?” He snarls, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips.
“S-so badly,” you choke out, straining against the restraints, he leans down and you think he’s going to spit in your face but instead, he kisses you, groaning into your mouth.
“Been thinkin’ about fuckin’ you all goddamn day.” He snaps. “Just lie there and take it.” You gasp, he’s thick and heavy, you were wet, but not prepped for how wide he’d be as he stuffs you full.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, sir,”
“Please what,” he growls, his weight braced on his elbows, he leans down and kisses you, aware that you’re not sure what you’re begging for, for him to go faster or slower, for a break or for him never to stop. Being caged in like this is overwhelming, he’s everywhere, his weight on top of you, his lips on your neck, his animalistic groans in your ear as he pounds into you. He’s somehow lucked into the perfect angle, you refuse to believe it’s anything but luck that has you tearing up, your back arching, as his head nudges against that sensitive bundle of nerves with every thrust.
“I said,” and he kisses you again, it’s soft lips and then sharp teeth and a soothing swipe of his tongue, “Please, what?”
“Can I,” you gasp, unable to get out a while phrase before he effectively knocks the wind out of you, “Can I cum?” He barks out a laugh.
“No fuckin’ way.” He pulls your shirt down, burying his face between your tits, “You already came once today, this is about me,” you let out a yelp as he nips your soft skin, sinking his teeth into you, he sucks at one of your nipples and groans loudly, your warm, wet walls were squeezing him tightly, and when he’d bite you he noticed they fluttered and clenched down.
“Can’t hold it,” you babble, the tears in your eyes spilling over, “Please, please, please-”
“Who’s pussy is this?” he growls in your ear and you whimper, he stalls his hips against yours, burying himself inside you to the hilt, you feel his tongue on your ear as a shiver rips through you, “Who’s fuckin’ pussy is this?”
“Yours.” You choke out, squirming, trying to get any kind of friction any kind of movement, and he swears violently,
“All of this,” he takes a handful of your ass, and runs his free hand up your sillhouette, “All of this is mine. I decide when you cum, if you ever get to cum again,” you whimper, and he closes his eyes, tuning you out to focus on the pure sensation, being inside you was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and there was something about the conquest, the idea that you were wild and he’d tamed you, that makes his palms ache with desire.
“Yours,” you choke out again, pulling him out of his head.
“Mine.” He snarls posessively, “Cum with me.” He rocks his hips against yours, your legs thrown haphazardly over his shoulder, “C’mon bitch come with me.” You let go of the hot coil in your stomach as his thrusts become sporadic, the two of you completely losing control as your orgasms rip through you. It’s like vaulting over a cliff, your vision whites out and you yank hard on the ropes, nearly detaching them from the bed as he grunts above you.
It’s a few minutes of soft breathing, of little, featherlight shivery touches before he speaks, his voice plucking a chord of vulnerability he didn’t expect.
“Let me protect you.” His words hang heavy in the air, he pulls you onto his chest. “I can, you know I can.” You curl up into him.
“Untie me.” It’s not a request, and he figures you both know that as long as you’re wearing the collar you can’t get away from him. He pulls at the ropes, and undoes the knots slowly, rubbing the raised welts in your skin from where you’ve strained against them. “You think you can protect me?” He nods, tucking your body into his, rubbing your back.
“I know I can.” He says, and for a moment he’s transported back to U.A., back to his brief stint as a hero in the sun of the city, of the way people would look up at him with a genuine trust.
“I know who hired me.” You mumble. “And I saw his face, which is how I knew he’d kill me if I brought him the flashdrive he was looking for.” Bakugou nods, tracing a pattern on your back. “Do you um, do you know Taichi Shohei?” Bakugou stiffens.
“You saw that bastards face?” He says in a low growl. You nod.
“I thought I’d take your gauntlet, fence it, and then I could be in the wind. I’d maybe never come back to this country, but that’s okay,” you say brightly, “There are other countries.”
“The head of the Public Hero Commission, what, met you on a rooftop?” You swallow.
“He showed up at my place.”
“What the fuck,” Bakugou is instantly more awake, shoving your body underneath his own so that he can look down at you.
“I knew it.” You look away. “There’s nothing you can do, is there.” His mind is racing as you spiral in front of him, “You have to let me go, please, I need to get away-”
“Nah,” Bakugou sits up, straddling you. “He ain’t gonna be a problem for ya, not if you're ours.” You sigh deeply.
“So what are you offering me?” He relaxes, flopping next to you.
“I got shit on him,” Bakugou explains, a self satisfied smile on his head, “That’s probably what he wanted, some leverage over me.” You nod. “But,” he kisses the top of your head, “Thanks to your sense of self preservation he didn’t get anything.”
“So you might say you owe me?” You say, a touch more brightness to your voice and he rolls his eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Bakugou says flatly, locking his arms around you, “I’d say you’re still at my fuckin’ mercy.”
“So,” you say quietly, “What does joining you mean?” You reach for the collar, the thin black leather around your neck, and he pulls your hands away.
“It means when you’re not doin’ shit for me, you don’t get to take that off.” He says gruffly. “It looks good on ya, anyway.”
“You and I both know,” he says, turning on his side to follow you as you pull away from him, he yanks the comforter off your body, “That the second that thing’s off you’ll be halfway across the city.”
“And?” You say. “Why do you care?”
“Because I got shit I want you to steal for me,” he rumbles, “And you’re a tight fucken cocksleeve, I’m gonna keep ya.” You sigh softly, and to his delight you curl into him.
“Mmmkay then. Fine. Eventually you have to let me go.”
“Think I’ll getcha a cute little leash to go with that collar.” You grit your teeth and he tightens his grip on you. “You don’t like that, don’t like the idea that you belong to me?” He pulls away enough to look in your eye. “Get used to it. You’re fuckin’ mine. This is one of the nicer things I can choose to do with your life.” You stare at him, but a shiver runs up your spine, betraying how cold you feel outside the blankets.
“F-fine.” You say, and shiver again. “Please c-can I come back, underneath?” He nods, evidently feeling benevolent.
“My sweet, sweet little fucktoy.” He growls. “Gonna be a good girl, gonna serve me?” You feel your clit throb between your legs and nod quickly. “That’s it then,” he kisses you. “You’ll look good on a leash.” You snuggle up to him, it’s warm and soft and comfortable, and you realize that maybe for the first time in your life you feel safe in someone else's arms.
He wakes before you, realizing that despite being untied you haven’t moved away from him, that you’ve latched onto him, one of your legs is up around his waist, and most of your body is on his chest. You sigh softly at even the slightest movement, drawing his warmth closer to you.
“S’not bad.” You murmur. “Wakin’ up with you.”
“Yeah?” He grunts, tugging your body higher on his chest. “Let’s getcha breakfast then, huh?” You nod, and let him pull you out of bed, he loans you an unused toothbrush and you’re attempting to work a brush through your hair when he snatches it out of your hands and shoves you into a seated position on his bed. “I got it.” You swallow, and he kneels behind you, carefully, painstakingly work the brush through your hair. “My fault you spent so long without brushin’ it.” He says eventually. You let him finish and watch him get dressed, and then he leads you down a dark wood covered staircase to a dining room table where Kirishima, Sero, and Denki are already eating. They stand when he comes in, and pulls out a chair for you. You sit, glancing nervously at the other men. Bakugou takes a seat at the head of the table and nods to you,
“Fill ‘em in.” Bakugou brings a glass of water to his lips.
“Um,” you glance at Kirishima, who raises his eyebrows. “So I was hired by Taichi Shohei, to make a copy of Bakugou’s hard drive, the one in the room behind the bookshelves.” You’re interrupted by the sound of the blonde choking on his drink, your head snaps to him in concern.
“You didn’t tell me that was what you were after,” he snaps, wiping his chin, “Or that you even knew that room was there.” You blink at him.
“I know about all the rooms, the one under the kitchen, the extra one behind your closet, was that,” you trail off, “I didn’t just break in, I staked it out.” You fidget. “Remember that I am, that I was a good thief.” He rubs his eyes and Denki snickers.
“She’s gotcha there.”
“I,” you fidget a little, “That’s it though.”
“Taichi,” Kirishima leans back in his chair, it creaks under the weight of his muscle. “Not a good enemy to have.”
“Thanks.” You quip. “That’s why I was hoping to leave the country.” Kirishima chuckles, but Bakugou’s scowl deepens.
“I’m gonna enjoy gettin’ rid of your attitude.” He snips, and servants bring breakfast for the men, slipping a plate of eggs in front of you. “We’re gonna protect her from Taichi, and if she’s a good girl,” he coos at you, “I’ll let her go and get things when I need ‘em fetched.”
“I’d like a turn at her attitude.” Kirishima says brightly, and Bakugou shrugs.
“She breaks easy. Have at it.” You look sharply at the him. “Relax, you’ll be able to make fun of him for havin’ honor too.”
“Bet she’d be good for me,” Kirishima says, smiling at you. “If for no other reason than it’ll piss you off.”
“That is intriguing,” You muse, and Bakugou scowls. “Don’t worry,” you give him your sweetest smile. “I’ll be a good little theif for you too, for now.”
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bakugou who is trying so hard to go the entire month to beat everyone else, meanwhile you're trying to get him to fuck you the whole month. One the last day you pull out all the stops and he just can't hold back anymore.
(No nut November)
Bakugo x reader
One hundred dollars. Bakugo, Kirishima, Kaminari, Todoroki, and Midoriya bet one hundred dollars to whoever would last all of November without having sex or masturbating. You, Mina, Jirou, Yaoyorozu, and Uraraka all bet two hundred dollars you could make them break, whoever doesn't succeed with her guy, having to pay the other girls. The guys had no idea about the bet, but they figured it out within a few days. None of them were too thrilled, but all the guys said they wouldn't break.
The only rule was no pills or sabotage among each other, meaning between them. If it's between the couple, that's ok. But no Viagra or anything like that at all. To make sure nobody went behind each other back and actually did it, everyone got custom watches that monitored their heart rates. If their heart rate increased, meaning they had sex or masturbated, it would alert everyone. It took into consideration when they were fighting or working out. Another nonbias person (Shinsou) needed to be present to prove if they were working out or doing something active, but other than that, if their heart rate increased, they would lose.
Surprisingly, the first loser wasn't until a week and a half into November, on the 11th. Poor Kamainari, he couldn't resist Jirou. She barely even had to try. By the 13th, Midoirya, Todoroki, Bakugo, and Kirishima were a lot crankier than usual. They all had a lot of pent-up stuff through the days, and not being able to relax and release their demons officially took its toll. Next was Kirishima on the 17th. Mina got ahold of him, got him drinking, and it was over. By the 4th drink and her in his lingerie merch, he didn't stand a chance.
You had a separate bet with Uraraka that Midoirya wouldn't last two weeks. That was fifty bucks from you and Bakugo's joint account that you weren't happy to give up. It was over for Midoriya on the 20th. Uraraka finally pulled the one thing she knew he couldn't resist. The dance. She used her quirk, giving him a mid-air dance on a floating pool. Midoriya wasn't sure why he loved it so much, but what he did know was 5 minutes into the dance, he was pulling her out of the air, and 10 minutes later, he was hunched over her naked body, spilling his soul out through his dick.
Then it was only, Bakugo and Todoroki left. You tried your best, doing everything you knew he loved, trying to get him to crack. You refused to pay the other girls the money. That would be six hundred dollars, eight if Yaoyorozu broke Todoroki. By the last day of November, you were out of ideas, and you had no idea what you were going to do. You did everything you could think. Dirty talk, wearing his clothes, merch, wearing lingerie, giving him a lap dance, pulling on his hair, you even got on his lap and ground into him yesterday. Nothing worked. You were praying that Bakugo's watch didn't up, signaling Todoroki's failure in the game. By the afternoon, you were already getting the money sorted to give to the other girls. You hated losing bets and giving up money. You sigh, deciding to give it one last try, putting everything you have into this one last time.
Bakugo was sitting on the couch, his usual scowl painted on his face. You walk behind him, slowly sliding both your hands down his shoulders, leaning down close to his ear. "Katsuki." You coo seductively. "Few hours, Y/n. Save it. You're not breaking me." He says. You lean down, ignoring him, kissing across his jaw. "I said" He grabs your jaw, pulling your head from his and looking at you. "Save it for later. I'm going to wreak you." He says, looking deep into your soul. You can almost see all the frustration he's been holding back through the weeks. "Please, Katsu." You say, a pout in your voice, you lean in, licking along the outside of his ear. You feel him start to shutter before jolting away. "No, Y/n. I'm not losing to that stupid half n half." He says, turning around and looking at you.
He takes in the sight of you. You had a blanket wrapped around your body, making it seem as if you were naked under it. "And put some clothes on." He growls, clenching his fist and rolling his eyes, turning around. You smile slightly, walking in from of him as he looks back at the tv. "What? This?" You say bring attention to the blanket. "I do not care if you are naked under that." He says. You smile, already able to see the faint outline of his hardening cock. "Hm. Good to know." You say, nodding, then dropping the blanket from your body. Instead of being met with your naked body like he thought he would be, he was met with you wearing more of his lingerie, a new set you'd never worn.
His eyes scanned over your body. The black bra with green highlights around it, the little symbols in the middle of the cups, meant to be his explosions. The straps connect to the bra, spreading from under each armpit and across your stomach, making an X. On the X, one strand has Katsuki, the other has Bakugo. The underwear is bright orange, with a dark green X right over your crotch. Around your wrist, green scaly-type armbands. You stand, tilting your head and smiling innocently at him. You see Katsuki inhale slowly, fist gripping into the couch. "Put some clothes on." He says through clenched teeth.
You shrug, walking away into the bedroom. Around 10 minutes later, you walk back out, slowly swaying your hips as you walk. You get in the corner of Bakugo's eyesight, and he can't help but look over at what he thinks he sees, and he's right. You had on his hero costume. His. Hero costume. Gauntlets and all. His eyes went wide, mouth dropping open slightly. "Y-you can carry those?" He asks, eyes trained on the gauntlets. "Mhm, yeah. Why?" You ask, smiling sweetly. No, you can't. Your arms were on fire. You don't know how he carries them all the time. They were at least 85 pounds each. But it was worth it, and you put on a good show and would get rewarded in more ways than one.
While thinking about the weight in your arms, you didn't even notice the fast dash of Katsuki, picking you up and now holding you against the wall. His hands were digging into your sides, his eyes dark with lust. He was panting, and you could visibly see him fighting a battle in his head, and you could visibly see when he loses, immediately diving in and kissing you. He tucks his arms behind your back, holding you into his body, leaving no space between you, feeling him grind his hard cock against you. "I want you. I want you so bad. God, I can't wait anymore." He says, starting to rip his hero suit from your body.
He grabs your legs, pulling to make you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. He brings his fingers up, sticking them in you as he kisses you roughly on your neck, already fast with his fingers inside of you, groaning as he feels you tighten around his fingers. Once he's sure you're ready, he pulls his fingers out, tugging his sweats down, quickly grabbing his cock and starting to lead it into your hole. "Oh, god." He moans as he slips in your wet folds. He bottoms out and stills, his head leaning against the wall next to your head. "I'm not- I'm not gonna last." He groans through clenched teeth. You start to move your hips, making shakingly moan. He pulls his hips back and quickly thrusts them in again. You can see him shaking, already on the verge of cumming from just being inside you.
You feel him tighten his grip on you again, bringing his hips back and thrusting up into you. He does it barely five more times before his head drops on your shoulder, moaning loudly, shooting long warm ropes of cum into you. "O-oh my god." He says against your shoulder, his cum still flowing, emptying in you. He pants, pulling you closer and pulling you from the wall, dropping on the couch with you. The second your back hits the couch, he pulls his hips back again, thrusting into you, this time picking up a good pace. He's mumbling into your neck things along the lines of, "so good, so good. Feels so good."
You arch your back, feeling your orgasm approaching. Your mouth drops open, eyes closed as it washes over you. The second Katsuki feels you tighten around him, his hips stutter, his hand flying up on the couch, gripping it tightly as his ex-neglected cock spills cum into you again, almost like an unending stream of warm cum spilling into you. Katsuki lets out shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down, relaxing his body on you. He pulls his head from your neck slightly, looking at your arms. He brings his hand up, unlocking his gauntlets from around your wrists. "I know these are heavy." He says quietly. "I can't believe I lost to that stupid IcyHot." He says. Like on cue, his watch lit up with Todoroki's face. It was 10:30 pm, they all lost.
In the next hour, the group chat was lighting up. They talked about how nobody got any money, all the guys lost, and all the girls won. They were all bummed, but the girls couldn't get enough of making fun that they all broke the guys. Little did they know, in the guy's group chat, they were planning their revenge. After all, Divine Dick December was only 15 minutes away.
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— only want you
in which you and bakugo still gravitate towards each other despite having broken up a few months ago.
pro!hero bakugo x f!reader. 2.7k+ MDNI y'all they be havin SEX this is 18+ ONLY. exes to ???people who r fucking ig. fingering, mirror sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, possessiveness, relationship that is a bit toxic. sex with feelings. there’s so much going on here but tl;dr, bkg is down horrendous. also ig i write for mha now lmao.
“w-we can’t keep doing this, bakugo,”
breathless and stuttered, your words are obviously the last line of whatever pathetic defense you were trying to put up, and he could laugh.
with the way you were leaning entirely on him, arms clinging tightly around his neck, and knees buckling with every flick of his fingers inside you, it’s a miracle that you’re still trying your hardest to reject what both of you have no power over.
he chuckles darkly, eyes menacing and smile mischievous. under the dim yellow lights of the bathroom, the sharp angles of his face look even more intimidating. “yeah? we shouldn’t?” he coos mockingly.
you shake your head, mouth falling open and head falling forward as you lean onto his shoulder when he maneuvers his fingers to move deeper inside you.
“why are you shaking, then?” he whispers. “why are you still sucking my fingers up so good, hm? like you don’t wanna fuckin’ let go?”
you can only whimper as an answer, burying your face deeper onto his shoulder. as usual, you have no strength left to answer back, numb to everything else but the pleasure he’s giving you. the pleasure only he could give you.
and as usual, he won’t stand for it. when bakugo asks a question, he gets an answer.
“uh-uh,” he tuts. “i asked you a question, baby.” his fingers inside you slow to a stop and he moves the shoulder you’re leaning on to get you to look up at him.
you let out a sob when you look up, eyes big and pleading as you rut your hips onto his fingers. you were almost there, it was so close. and he just—
he unwraps the arm that was meant to keep you steady around you, hand moving up to squeeze your pretty face in his hands. “use your words, angel. haven’t fucked you with my cock yet, an’ you’re already goin’ dumb on me?”
“feels s’good…” you breathlessly mewl.
a smirk crawls up on his lips as he resumes the pace of his fingers inside you, a triumphant feeling springing in his chest when he sees your eyes fall shut slowly in ecstasy once again, but even through how ethereal you look in this state, he can’t let you off easy. “uh huh, but i thought we couldn’t keep doing this?”
he knows he’s being cruel, purposely hitting you where it hurts by having you say things that would hurt your pride. the answering sob almost breaks his heart.
“hm, baby? if we can’t keep doing this, why can you barely keep your eyes open and talk?” the come-hither movement of his fingers keep on hitting the spot that makes your knees buckle, and he only speeds it up, going almost inhumanly faster and deeper, making the lewd squelching noises of your pussy almost rival the noises coming from your own mouth.
“y’hear that?” he eggs on. “you’re fuckin’ dripping. that’s all you, baby. and all for me.”
you can only wail and shake in his arms, hands gripping his shoulders as you fight to keep yourself upright while going higher and higher.
“answer me.” he demands, pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to your cheek, a huge contrast to the way he’s squeezing your face in one hand and demolishing your cunt in the other.
he knows he’s being cruel. but it’s been so long since he’s had you just cuddled into his arms, perfectly content with not doing anything else. it’s been so long since he’s had you sleeping next to him, smiling in your sleep and telling him about your dreams in the morning.
it’s been so long since he’s had a good night’s sleep because he knows you’re safe by his side, so long since home has been home, and being inside you meant making love and not just fucking.
this is the only way you would let him in—when you’re drunk on his cock and wanting to cum. and it hurts like hell every time you’d leave after you’re sated, even more so when he saw you out on a date with a fucking nobody, but he’ll take whatever piece of you he can get, and he’ll be damned if he has to share with anyone else.
he knows he’s being cruel. it was his fault that you got to this point anyway. he was too absent, too angry, too adamant on being number one that he neglected you along the way, only realizing that he did so when your bags are already packed and you’re raring to go.
he knows he’s being cruel, but in his twisted head, it’s only fair that he gets even this tiny piece of you, because you still own all of him. it’s only fair.
he swipes his thumb to your swollen clit and you twitch, rutting faster against his hand, as if having three thick fingers knuckle-deep in you isn’t enough. you’ve always been a greedy little thing, and he’s always had a particular inclination to indulging you until you’re crying.
you bite his shoulder, trying your best to muffle your screams as you feel yourself tensing and reaching your peak. his fingers are relentless inside of you, stirring you up real good until you’re shaking and dripping all over his hands, your thighs, and the pretty dress you had on for tonight.
you always end up like this—panting and trembling from the high he’s brought you to despite having told yourself that the last time would be the last. you always end up letting him back in your bed, in you, because as much as you hated it, you needed him.
it’s a shame that not everything you feel you need is necessarily good for you.
you push him away once you catch your breath, reaching for the paper towels near the sink and trying to straighten yourself up. you try not to think about how he stumbled back easily once you pushed him off of you, like there’s no strength left in him despite his build and stature.
you’d seen him withstand the kicks and blows of villains twice his size, either bouncing back or not even budging at all, and yet he’s this powerless against your rejection.
your eyes flick up to his reflection in the mirror, and for a brief moment, you see him just standing there, frozen, defeated. like he’d been better off getting stabbed in the gut than having you push him off.
it’s short lived, though. because the moment he meets your eyes in your reflection, his face goes back to a determined expression. he stalks over to you, pressing his chest onto your back and setting both of his hands on either side of you to cage you in, never once breaking off eye contact.
he drops soft kisses to your jaw and the side of your neck, pecks eventually turning into nips and soft bites as he hikes the skirt of your dress up once again, big and rough palms kneading your ass. there’s no underwear left for him to worry about, as he ripped it off you and pocketed it the moment he pulled you into the restroom. “you haven’t answered my question, who said we were done?”
“bakugo, i need to go back,” you reply, steeling your resolve and willing yourself not to close your eyes and lean onto him.
“to where, to your fuckin’ date?” he spits the words in disdain, wrapping a hand around your throat as the other moves to unbuckle his belt. “not before you watch me fuck you in this dress. see the faces you make with my cock in you. see if you can go back to him with my cum running down your legs.”
you tremble at his words, sighing as your back arches when you feel the head of his cock pressing onto your hole and threatening to break you open.
“bakug— ah!” your words are interrupted with a scream when he pushes the head of his cock in, the stretch still overwhelming and so, so good even after all this time.
“it’s katsuki,” he corrects, groaning into your ear as he bottoms out. “s’always katsuki t’my pretty angel.”
he sighs, thinking to himself that this is where he belongs—sheathed deep in your cunt. so tight, so soft, so warm. all his. this is the only way he breathes easy—with you as close as possible, knowing that no one can take you away from him, knowing that you belong to him as much as he does to you.
he burrows his head to your neck once he starts his relentless pace, eyes closed, breathing in your scent and feeling the vibrations of the sounds you make on the skin of your throat. he wills himself to open his eyes, wanting to witness the look on your face as you fall apart on his cock, wanting—no, needing to see that this is affecting you as much as it’s affecting him.
and by god, is he thankful he mustered enough strength to open his eyes. he’s seen this sight so many times, but it never fails to make something inside him shake in carnal need. you, brows furrowed and mouth open in complete ecstasy, skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat, and tits bouncing with every snap of his hips.
he’s smart enough to have locked the door after dragging you in here, because in his mind, they can listen all they want to the sounds you’re making as he fucks you, but this sight is only reserved for him and him alone.
it would be even better if he could see your pretty eyes completely engulfed in lust, so he asks. “can ya open those pretty eyes for me, baby?”
his words barely register in your mind, your whole being completely clouded in pleasure. the head of his cock keeps bumping onto the spot that has you gushing, and all you can do this lean and cling onto whatever part of him you can reach. despite that, you try your best to adhere to his request, and the sight that greets you only has you clenching tighter around him.
“fuck, you love this so much.” he chuckles. “you love getting fucked and watching yourself get absolutely ruined,”
“yes, ah! i-i do, please, please…” you babble, pleading for something you’re not even sure of, inhibitions and pride be damned. all you know is that every snap of his hips is getting you closer and closer to a high that feels like it’s going to knock the breath out of you. terrifying and electrifying all at the same time.
“so why d’you keep on pushin’ me away, huh?” he pants. “only i can fuck you like this, you know that, right? took my fuckin’ time to learn what makes you scream, what makes you fuckin’. cry. because it felt too good.” every word is punctuated with a deep thrust that has you sobbing. “y’think y’can parade around with someone new and replace me jus’ like that?”
you shake your head no, heaving and delirious as he fucks deeper into you. “n-no, only you! only you! he didn’t— didn’t touch me, c-couldn’t— ah!”
he laughs in triumph. “that’s right, this is all for me, right? all fuckin’ mine.”
“uh huh,” you nod, mewling as you move your hips to fuck back into him. “only you, katsuki—fuck, i’m so close!”
“then fucking cum,” he orders, pressing his palm below your navel so he can feel himself every time he bottoms out. “cum around my cock, s’all yours, baby, only you.”
his palm above your pelvis only intensifies the feeling of his deep thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. your legs tremble as the bubble of pressure pops, making you throw your head back, mouth open in a soundless scream. he turns your head towards him, claiming your mouth as his hips stutter. he grunts into your mouth as he cums, bursting warmth inside you.
you both stay still for a minute, him still sheathed inside you as you both catch your breath. he presses sweet little kisses to your shoulder and neck, and you tilt your head to the side, letting him do what he wants.
“holy fuck, baby,” bakugo says once he catches his breath, “y’just squirted.”
your eyes pop open at his words, chest still heaving as you come down from your high. you look down, and true enough, part of your dress is soaked in your juices, and you’re guessing part of his pants is the same.
he wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you to his chest as he breathes you in, sighing as if this is the first breath he’s taken after being submerged underwater for a long time. “come home with me.”
your heart clenches at his words. home. it’s been a long time since you felt at home—long before you even left him. even now, you’re not sure coming back with him would feel like coming home.
you try to wiggle out of his hold, but his arms only tighten around you. you look up at your reflection in the mirror—there’s disheveled and fucked out you, and bakugo who has his eyes closed and brows furrowed, holding onto your for dear life. he opens his eyes once he feels your gaze on him, immediately shutting them tight once again and burrowing his face further into the side of your neck, almost like a child getting caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing.
you barely realize the smile making its way up on your face, but you let yourself melt into him. he’s already ruined your makeup, your dress, you for anyone else for the rest of the night, and probably for the rest of your life. going back to his pad with him wouldn’t really make that much of a difference.
he takes you once again at the backseat of his car, making the windows all fogged up. and again against the door after he’s closed it shut behind him the moment you got into his pad, once more on the sofa, and finally, on his bed.
“you’re insatiable,” you whisper as he ruts into you, slow and languid this time, making you feel every ridge and vein along his girth with every drag, but just as deep as the first four times.
you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve came and how many times he’s come in you, numb to everything but the sensitivity of your abused hole and the squelch of both of your essences every time he pulls out and pushes back in.
he hums, palms going up to fondle your tits, adjusting your legs that are propped up on each of his shoulders as his head is buried in your neck. “only f’you,” he slurs, eyes closed and completely pussy drunk.
you smile, hand going up to tangle against messy blond hair that is now drenched in sweat. he lifts his head up, tilting his head to claim your mouth, tongue tangling with yours.
“missed you so fuckin’ much,” he whispers. “an’ i’m so sorry.”
the follow-up knocks the breath out of you, making tears gather at the corner of your eyes. the difference those words would have made a few months ago…
“hated being here without you. hated it even more when i heard you’re goin’ out with someone else.” his thrusts pick up in pace, energy renewed by the anger he feels at the thought of you being with someone else.
“‘m here now,” you breathlessly moan, pulling his head down for another kiss as he pounds into you.
“uh huh, and i’m gonna make sure y’won’t run from me again.”
you nod mindlessly, clinging onto him as another orgasm overtook you.
those last words are more of a promise to himself. he’ll be better, and you’ll never want for anything as long as you’re with him. he’ll be better, and he won’t let you slip away again.
he should’ve known that your responses to him last night were only fueled by lust, nothing but appeasements to get him to shut up, because the moment morning light came, he’s waking up to you gathering your clothes, probably hoping you could leave without waking him up.
“where are you going?” he still asks despite the dread in his gut.
“home.” you answer, looking back at him, eyes cold and emotionless, nothing like the ones that looked up at him completely clouded in need last night.
you are home, he wants to say. you’re home with me.
but you’re gone and out the door before he could. and just like that, the gaping hole in his chest that had been momentarily plugged up by your presence reopens, rendering him unable to move.
everything is back to how it is without you—cold, stale, meaningless.
never mind all that, he tells himself, he’ll get you back no matter what. even if it means fucking you until you can’t talk, can’t do anything but cry for his cock, much less walk away from him. he’ll get you back.
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brass tacks; bakugou katsuki
summary: popular frat boy katsuki breaks up with his long term girlfriend to enjoy his college years the way his friends say he should. then regrets it.
word count: 5.4k
a/n: i’m laughing because this was originally an eren fic until I got to the smut part and decided it had to be bkg. and i’m not mad about it. we only have happy accidents here. anyway this is my baby right now so I hope you enjoy
also I wrote this while I was sad. im sure you can tell.
warnings: college au, alcohol, cussing, hickies, ANGST, a very baby reader, super self indulgent (lmao), oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, pretty vanilla sex, praise praise praise, bratty ass reader, tiny bit of gagging, hair pulling ig, lil bit of possessiveness, soft (kinda) emotionally mature bkg
also tagging my lovely moot @katsukikook :)
18+ ONLY // NSFW CONTENT
bakugou handles things pretty well at first. it’s to be expected from the one who broke things off.
he’s spent the last couple of months of your two year relationship convinced he’s too young for this sort of commitment. he tells you (and himself) that he loves you very much, but he needs some time to sort things out. to find out what he “really wants” from life.
and in the meantime, he can feel some of the freedoms that come with being a third-year alpha delta.
he tried to look at the positives. thinking it wouldn’t be much trouble at all to settle back into the bachelor routine he had nailed in during his freshman year at uni; before your things took over his space and your love took over his time. but as more lonely days and quiet nights go by, the more he realizes that his newfound freedom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
most mornings after the breakup, he’ll wake up in high spirits. he’ll go about his day without entertaining a single thought of you, a feat you couldn’t achieve. to bakugou, his life after you didn’t have to be much different from his life before you.
until he’s at the front of the starbucks line, completely frozen after mistakenly reciting the first syllable of your usual order; a habit that’s made itself much too comfortable in his routine. right then and there, a paralyzing pang of sadness washes over him. the memories of your early mornings spent together begin to flood in.
as he grabs a single drink off the counter, his mind is cemented to the sweet nothings you muttered to him in your sleep. he remembers those dawns so vividly, your fatigued figure curled up and warm in his bed. a stroke to your hair gently nudging you awake. always followed by a soft kiss to the cheek with your favorite drink in hand.
as he gets in his car, he can’t get the sight of your tired, sheepish grin out from behind his eyelids. nor the ghost of your infectious giggle from his eardrums after poking fun at the bed head he gave you the night before.
the next few weeks that follow only get worse.
he went from recalling small moments the two you shared during the quiet times in his day, to eventually forfeiting entire class periods to his own cruel thoughts. what is she doing right now? what if she’s thinking of me too? should I check her instagram to see if she’s moved on?
is it too late?
and instead of finding out himself, he’ll go on to ask only his close friends these questions. kaminari suggests he take a page out of his book and hit up some sororities with him this weekend. mina thinks it’s just guilt, that he needs to own up and apologize if he wants to move on and enjoy his up and coming senior year. sero tells him he doesn’t see the harm in texting you casually and asking. bakugou knows sero’s fucking with him.
kirishima gives him the safest idea, suggesting he sit with these thoughts for a while longer. kiri says it like it is, that bakugou needs to chill out before he makes any more life changing choices. that he can’t go around making rash decisions when it involves the sanity of someone else. as your friend too, he advises that bakugou try to move on and see if these feelings fade with time. before putting you through another emotional wringer.
so bakugou gives it a week.
in those passing weeks he attended frat parties, hooked up with all the “who’s who”s on campus, and even put more effort into his studies. but it seemed like no matter how much beer pong he played, no matter how many girls he fucked, and no matter how much his grades improved, he still couldn’t wipe away the look of adornment you had for him when he woke you up on those soft mornings. he tried so hard to shake you off, to clean his slate completely. going out of his way to get coffee from a different starbucks across town to eventually not getting coffee at all. every girl he used in an effort to feel something else just made him want to feel you again, each more than the last.
he can’t take it anymore. he pulls away from the blonde. her lips desperately suckling to his. her hot pink nails stay tangled in his locks. her last ditch effort to take things to the next level is abruptly interrupted.
“just stop,” he says, a sad plea that goes unnoticed as she continues the slobbery kiss. a thin trail of saliva extends from his neck to mid chest as she now claws at the hem of his boxer briefs. he takes her wrists in his thick hands, separating both grabby hands from himself before giving them back to her. without another thought he grabs his shirt off the ground and makes his way out. he barrels through the sweaty sea of wasted college kids, not an ounce of sympathy for their spilt drinks. bakugou ignores the confused calls from his friends, continuing out the door. he’s focused on one thing and one thing only.
for miles he trudges through the elements, drunk and slow, kicking up the thin blanket of snow cascaded over the sidewalk. it isn’t until he’s down the block when he realizes that he forgot his jacket in the kitchen. he has brief flashbacks of taking it off when he took all those shots. at this point, he doesn’t even care. with hands shoved in his pockets, he continues his miserable journey until he stands in front of a familiar glossy red door; the same small paint chips missing from the foot of it. he can’t feel the hand he raises to the door. icy wisps form from his breath as he stands there in silence.
what am i even doing here?
he nervously shifts himself from one foot to the other. in the cold. for minutes that feel like years. he drops his hand and turns back towards the stone steps before his knuckles could make contact with the door. he hadn’t told any of his friends about the impulsive intentions he had tonight. he hasn’t made a sound either. he could just leave without a single soul ever finding out he was here.
and he almost did, if it wasn’t for the deadbolt clicking open behind him.
the last person you expect to see when you swing open the door, clutching a bag of trash, is bakugou katsuki.
the garbage bag remains on your porch as you place a hot cup of tea in bakugou’s near frostbitten hands.
“you could’ve killed yourself, you know? It’s like 12 degrees outside,” you lecture him in a lame attempt to cut through the thick tension. the kind of jaw clenching tension that being alone and confined in a room with your recent ex-boyfriend fosters up. you grab your own cup before settling on the couch next to him, trying to keep your gaze set on anything else.
except bakugou’s eyes are locked on you. the way you lift the cup to your lips. the way you readjust your posture for the third time this minute. he watches each little tick you give into, every time your nerves get the better of you. not to harass you, but because he feels responsible. seeing you like this makes him miss the days when you were comfortable with him. the days when he was your safe space from everything else.
it seems to you like bakugou can’t feel the same tension you do. as if the liquor made him numb to that too. he shamelessly stares, still not believing you’re sitting in front of him sharing some tea. this was the first hit he’s had of you in several weeks. If you asked him, he’d say it’s been much longer.
“you look good, y/n”
you break your fixed stare on the coffee table trinkets to look over at him. sitting in surprise at his choice of words. the first ones he’s said to you since telling you he no longer wanted you in his life.
you can’t help but let the red-hot anger bubble in your chest, causing your blood to boil. after dumping you to go and “find himself”, he decides to show up at your place. drunk. 50 different shades of hickies on his neck. not to mention, all right after you got over him?
is he fucking with me right now?
you push yourself off of the couch and walk to the kitchen, abruptly dumping the remainder of your tea down the drain before turning the lights off on bakugou.
“you can stay here for the night, i’m sure you remember where the blankets are. I have to leave for work at 10. you’ll be gone by then, yea?”
he stands immediately and instinctually reaches out for your arm, stopping himself just before contact. you can barely make out his expression in passing. desperate? no, something a little sadder. his features were only partially lit by the moon’s soft refraction through the open blinds. you weren’t completely sure of his demeanor until you heard the cracks in his voice. his broken-up cry of your name. you take one more look over your shoulder to see bakugou standing there, shoulders slouched and eyes glossy. a sight you’re far too familiar with. one you’ve seen a lot in the mirror lately.
“goodnight bakugou,” you turn back around, ignoring his sad front completely and continuing to your room.
“I regret it. is that what you want me to say?” he practically whispers under his breath. you hear it but you don’t acknowledge him.
“Y/N,” this time he’s louder. his tone is harsh and jagged, as if it took everything in him to keep it from breaking. you stop with your hand on the door handle, “I’m sorry, y/n— i fucked up,” he chokes on thin air. a sharp blade shreds his windpipe to tatters as tears prick his eyes. he clears his throat and tries again, “I just- please. I need you tonight.”
you remain facing the door. chin up to keep the steady pool of liquid in your eyes from spilling. you just listen to bakugou’s shaky breathing as you compose yourself enough to sound strong. to come off as put together. to not seem phased at all by his attempt to worm his way back into your life, just after he’s left it in shambles.
you know that once you’re done shaking, once you’ve sucked every last tear back into your body, you have to look him in the eyes and ask him to leave.
it’s what you should do.
but the cool draft in your apartment suggests you’ll be cold by yourself tonight. the ache lying in between your thighs suggests that you shouldn't be lonely tonight.
It wasn’t long after your sniffled approval that bakugou had you pinned against your bedroom door, lips hungrily enveloping yours. the pads of his fingers digging mercilessly into your thighs. he’s gripping you so tightly, he’s unintentionally leaving a small pattern of fingerprint shaped bruises. he lifts you up and over his hips while your ankles lock together behind his back, pushing your needy cunt further into the growing bulge in his jeans. bakugou swallows every one of your moans as he jerks the door handle. he couldn’t wait another second to lay you down, to feel your heaven around him again. as soon as he’s got you nice and situated on the cushy mattress, your frantic hands fly to the buttons on his jeans. he groans as his thick cock springs out into his stomach as he slides them off. you sit up as you attempt to peel your own shirt off, but he stops you.
“mm nn, I got it”
you release the hem and bakugou slips your t shirt off. he trails his hands down your raised arms, peppering soft kisses down your neck before licking a cool stripe up to the shell of your ear.
as eager as he seems, he doesn’t consider this to be another one of his famous sloppy hookups. no matter how much you whine and demand for him to just give it to you already, he shakes his head and makes you wait.
“wan’na savor it, needa remember”
you can smell the different liquors in his sweat, but judging by his tremendous patience and precise movements, you know he isn’t shit faced drunk anymore. the long walk to your apartment must've been enough to sober him up.
even taking his time, it’s not long at all before he’s got you down to bare skin. bakugou already leaving marks on your neck and chest. you don’t stop him. in fact, your antsy breaths just egg him on more.
“want em t’know,” he huffs through gritted teeth, “all m-mine.”
you nearly stop breathing at that. you curse yourself for how much effect you let his words have on you. how your heart leapt into your throat upon hearing katsuki call you his again.
the butterflies immediately drop dead. your body tremors at the thought of a cold and lonely tomorrow. one where bakugou comes to his senses and leaves you to pick up the broken pieces all over again. you try to stop the deafening doubt in your mind from growing into a complete downward spiral, biting your tongue and repeating the same seven words in your head.
just enjoy this for what it is.
all of your efforts go out the window. he immediately notices your anxious body writhe in his hands.
“hey.. hey— baby, you alright?” you try to duck out of his concerned embrace. you pocket your hands under your arms and chin into your chest to attempt to make yourself as small as possible. he cradles your warming cheeks in both hands and gently encourages you to look at him. “I don- baby, I don’t have t’ be here. it’s okay.” he has tears in his eyes now too, his vocal facade crumbling underneath itself at the sight of you like this. so fragile. so hurt. all because of him. as cloudy as your vision becomes, you can see the agony etched into his features as he watches you collapse beneath his touch.
you grab his forearm as soon as he tries to reach for your discarded shirt, stopping him in his place. he implores you with desperate eyes, trying his best to understand what it is you want.
“I-I can’t do this— ‘f you’re just gonna leave me again”
he feels his heart snap in two at your words. his mouth is open but no sound comes out. it finally hits him, how selfish he’s being. how little thought he gave to this impulsive idea. not once on his two mile walk did he consider how you would handle all of this; if you had the space for all of his leftover baggage. no, he didn’t think about it. not before he wedged himself between you and the rest of your life. he was drunk and lonely and, frankly, stupid.
in hindsight, his initial decision to break things off with you was so frivolous. he knew you made him happy, and him, you. he knew your patient nature and sarcastic humor were the perfect complements to his heavy personality and short fuse.
when he walked out the door that day and didn’t look back, it was because he wouldn't have left if he did. he let his friends and his intrusive self-doubt lead him to believe that he wasn’t doing what a 20-year old frat boy should be doing. that he was selling himself short by staying with you. he knew he still loved you. still loves you.
he can’t believe how badly he fucked up this time.
he slips a hand behind your nape, pulling your shivering body into his chest.
“I’m not— i’m not going anywhere” he coos, stroking the back of your head with his calloused hand. you’ve held out for as long as you could; but after hearing the words you’ve longed for, you can no longer stop the violent sobs from ripping through your throat. your head jerking deeper into the crook of his neck with each crashing wave. if it weren’t for bakugou physically holding you together, the receding tides would drag you under the water completely.
he repeats the same mantra like a prayer, holding you for as long as you need and then some. he keeps your bare body pressed into him long after your sniffling stops, not once letting up on the words of affirmation.
at this point, you think they’re more for his own sake than yours.
finally you’ve regained enough composure to speak without worrying about regressing back into a sniveling mess.
“swear on my life,” he doesn’t hesitate.
you nod and pull away to wipe the tears still caught in your eyelashes. you take the end of his shirt and try to drag it up his torso. he doesn’t let you.
“just relax f’ me, okay?” he lies you back down and rubs reassuringly up and down your sides before taking his shirt off himself.
you nod and watch through half lidded eyes as he takes the perky bud of your breast into his mouth and swirls it between his teeth and tongue. his hefty left hand’s got a kneading grip around his favorite tit while his right wedges itself between your legs, ghosting over every divot and curve of your ass. each teasing graze of his wrist against your sopping heat has you wriggling in his hold. every satisfied sigh and hum from katsuki has his cock pressing harder and deeper into your thigh. you take him in your hand and give a few mild pumps, drawing out a deep grunt from the bottom of his gut.
you’re even more aroused by his reaction, swiping your thumb over the bulb of precum before twisting and increasing your speed. you can see the effects of your touch written all over his face. katsuki’s had a lot of different hands on his dick in the past few months but has never seen the stars he does when it’s yours.
“baby, come on,” he lazily leans away, trying to put up a fight against your open invitation. he’s not convincing either of you. you usually listen to him, you usually wanna be good for him, right? but watching his resolve fall apart with a simple touch? god, it’s an ego boost that only makes you wanna give him more.
“missed you kats, jus’ wanna make you feel good,” your tone is sweet but your smile is wicked. you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, his eyes starting to glaze over. he still stands his ground.
“nuh uh, wanna take care ’a you first,” he finally gains the composure to look back into your eyes, “that okay, darlin?”
It’s not unusual for katsuki to prioritize you every now and then, but you’re taken aback by his unwavering persistence. you think it’s the guilt talking. that this special treatment is his way; not of making it up to you, it’s going to take a lot more than one night to do that; but of showing you he wants to try. I mean, really try. you’re speculating, of course. hopefully speculating. there, in the deepest darkest corners of your mind, lives the hot, sweltering doubt. as calming as his words were, they did little to ease your more complex worries. his shallow reassurance acted as a double edged sword, fanning the same flames they were meant to put out. you still wonder why he left in the first place, why he came back, and whether or not you’re good enough. you’re reluctant to let him only be of service to you, as much as you think he deserves to put in the work. you almost feel like you have something to prove here, that you have to be better than every other tally mark he’s etched into his running record of blacked out hookups and one night stands. you’re not sure if he sees this as a challenge or as a game. but whatever the reason, you know he isn’t planning on standing down anytime soon.
you hum an approval and he takes no time to slip a pillow under your lower back and hike both of your thighs over his shoulders.
katsuki isn’t clueless, he knows you like the back of his hand. he’s seen these dreadful thoughts float through the dark depths of your pupils. he’s read the uncertainty hidden inbetween the lines above your brows. he knows it’s going to be a long time before you stop seeing these intimate moments that way, as a competition. but he’s more than willing to weather out this raging storm with you. the cold and doubtful nights, the dark and dreadful mornings, and all of the unwavering rain to come. he’ll do it all just to have a chance at being back where he was. tonight was never meant to be a quick and easy bandaid for your bullet holes. he doesn’t see this as a way for you to prove your worth to him, but for him to prove his love to you. it’s his first step in proving that, no matter what method he uses to solve the problem, the answer is you. that it’s always been you and it’ll always be you.
he’s almost giddy at the thought of tasting you again as he leaves a trail of light pecks and purplish-blue marks up your thigh. the last thing he wants to do is go back on his word. scolding you to be patient, just to abandon ship and dive right into your center. instead he bends his rules a bit, gathering some of the slick on two digits before glossing them over his tongue. the smooth contact sends a shiver up your spine. you feel little goosepricks growing on your skin at katsuki’s pleasured sigh. he keeps his cool, kissing all the way down to the folds of your core. the anticipation practically had you sweating. he wraps his hefty arm around your thigh, holding it in a chokehold while his same two saliva covered fingers inch into your heat. small shockwaves of electricity spread outward from your center as your body adjusts to the new sensation. before you could even catch up, his tongue starts taking languid swipes over your bud.
and he’s practically drooling at your sensitivity. your folds twitching away under his touch, your eyes screwed shut while your hands instinctively tug at bakugou’s hair. unlike your ex-boyfriend, you didn’t find yourself in a different bed every night. other than your handheld vibe, you honestly haven’t even been touched since it was by him. every single smooth swipe of his tongue, every fingered stroke to your spongy center drives you closer and closer to the edge. bakugou keeps the taut grip on your hip but still takes his time, lapping up your juices like it’s the sweetest nectarine in the garden of eden. his painfully slow speed has you frothing at the mouth. you can’t stop your hips from rutting into him, your body doing anything it can to relieve the thick tension winding up inside of you. bakugou lifts his head up to meet your lolling eyes. he pulls away from you completely.
“thought you were gonna let’me,” his tone is blank, his cocky side-eye elicits more emotion than his question.
“katsu, I wan’it please. wan’ you to give it t’me,” he’s got you reduced to a puddle. whining, pleading, begging for him to give you what you want.
“I will, baby, I promise, but everytime you act up im’ma hafta stop. be a good girl for me yea?”
you give him a half-groan, half-assed yes in which he responds with a light pat to your thigh and a mischievous smirk. he keeps a steady eye on your expression as he starts circling your clit with a thumb, watching your bratty grimace soften under his touch.
“shhh, shhh, that’s it, good,” he coos. after you’ve demonstrated your obedience, katsuki dips his head back down, this time picking up the pace. you nearly choke on your moans as the two pads of his fingers flick against the knot building in your stomach. he has to shut his eyes when your walls start to twitch around his digits. he tightens his head-lock on your leg and uses the leverage to bury his nose deeper between your folds. he’s so painfully hard, skin around his cock so tight he’s trying to rub some of the tension out onto the sheets underneath him.
“katsu, im-m im gonna-” you manage to squeak out as the intoxication begins flowing through your veins. your hearing is getting fuzzy and your head feels so, so heavy. you feel his murmur against your skin before you hear it.
“go ahead princess,”
you feel a shockwave spark through every one of your nerves from the inside out. he holds you as sturdy as he can, refusing to let you squirm out of his grasp while he laps up every last drop of your arousal. your arms go limp against the mattress as the feeling drains out from them. he laughs at the sight of you. completely hollowed out by his hand. he tries to stir you back to reality, running his warm hands over your dizzied-out figure. he perches himself on his shins between your sprawled legs, you lazily pull your knees up to cage him in. he’s gives his length a couple of strokes before lining up.
“you sure this’s okay?” he’s got nothing but innocence in his eyes. you give him the green light, but not before holding out your tongue, mouth wide and beckoning. “oh you wan’ a taste, huh?” he snickers, taking his same two slick coated fingers to draw up some of the pre on his tip. they sink into your mouth with ease, your lips suggestively wrap themselves around. you suck on em for a bit, aimlessly rolling your head back at the salty flavor. he’s frozen in place, utterly delirious as you pull on his fingers with your soft palate until they get caught in your throat.
he can’t fucking take it.
with both fingers down your esophagus and his thumb gripping your bottom teeth, he practically falls into you.
he can feel your squeal against his fingertips as he sinks all the way down to the hilt. he moves his dripping hand to cup your cheek, giving it light taps as you try to compose yourself.
“‘s too much k-kat—please” you struggle out. he doesn’t stop his full thrusts in and out of you, instead picking up speed with each stroke. he lets out a breathy laugh.
“‘m sorry baby I jus’ couldn’t resist. feels too good,” he’s not lying. all the self control he had before has run unbearably thin at the sight of your fucked out figure and lolling eyes. he takes a tighter grip on your waist as his hips rut against yours relentlessly. the sight of his bulge waxing and waning in your tummy only makes him harder. you can hardly catch your breath at the sudden fill, hands scrambling to find anything to hold your ground with. katsuki sees this and gathers both of your wrists in only a single hand and locks them above your head. your lips don’t have the strength to form words, incoherent vowels roll out of your mouth instead as you feel your walls stretch and tear themselves to accommodate for all of bakugou katsuki. the silk pillowcase collects every last one of your hot tears. he tells you over and over how pretty you look for him.
“you’re takin’ this so well, so good f’me”
through the painful hiccups and struggled gasps of air, you manage to look him in the eye.
“more what, baby. use your words.”
“h-harder kats, please”
the minute those words tumble out of you, he feels his entire frame shiver in an absolute blood-rushing high. he just chuckles to himself, “whatever my girl wants, she gets” his grinding ruts cease for exactly one (1) second. only to move your ankles up and onto his shoulders.
with your knees kissing your chest now, bakugou slams into your sopping cunt. your whimpers stay caught in your throat as you’re now eye level with your calves, feeling like you’re being torn in half from the inside out. he doesn’t hold back. having no mercy as he relentlessly bullies your cervix with his rock-solid shaft.
you almost regret opening your mouth.
he’s leaning into it, the combination of stick and sweat holds your legs perfectly in place for him. if at anytime you told him to stop, that you change your mind and it was actually too much for you, he absolutely would. but right now, as you’re barely balancing on the thin and shaky tightrope, one little mistake away from plummeting to the unforgiving concrete; it’s far too thrilling to give up. it hurts too good to give in.
everything’s soaked. the sheets, the pillows, him, you. katsuki can’t tell if it’s your sweat, his sweat, or your tears streaming down your face. as aggressive as he’s being, he still keeps his tabs on you. listening to your breathing and keeping aware of your reactions to make sure he hasn’t taken it too far. that you meant what you said.
“I want all the fuckin’ neighbors.. t’ hear, who y’a belong to” you know better than to deny him, but you’re so far gone you can’t even fathom a response. he takes a fistful of your locks, forcing your eye contact, “got it?”
“ngh-huh” limp tongued and empty headed, you really try. he lets you go.
his raging hard-on is so hypersensitive, he can feel every lilt and twitch your gummy center makes around him. as your flutters get more intense, he does too. each thrust smashes into you so hard you see galaxies behind your eyes. your head sinks deeper into the pillow as all the pain you’ve endured washes into pure pleasure. this only drives katsuki closer to the edge, angling your hips up with both hands to hit the fleshy center he knows all too well. your yelps rattle the four surrounding walls. you also wanted the world to know that you belonged to him. in this moment, he’s all you could think about. all you want to feel. all you want to know. him. him. him.
“that’s it, fuck” he doesn’t try to curb his enthusiasm, relishing in every surge of your spine, scratch in his back, and cry of his name. his thoughts getting cloudy as he feels an unmistakable flush in his cock. he knows he won’t last any longer, practically playing roulette with each pump. telling you over and over “just a little more” as he slides in and out of you like butter. you’re lifeless beneath him, barely managing to keep your eyes open.
you gain just enough feeling in your tongue to mutter,
he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.
he grits his teeth and grunts through it. and when his hips falter he uses his arms. hauling you up and into him. you watch him fall apart as you buck your cunt over him, only satisfied when he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum. you don’t stop. you don’t dare. he tenses and writhes in your grasp as you milk him for every last drop. he stays buried into you for a while, his semi-hard cock keeping you plugged up all nice and full.
it’s quiet in the room now. only soft breaths and feathered touches filling the space. your gentle hand braces his forearm as he thumbs at your cheek. katsuki hasn’t once taken his eyes off of yours. how could he? this is the first moment in months where he’s felt no anguish, sitting as a thick lump, in his throat. no dull ache lingering, wrenching as a painful reminder, in his chest. there’s nothing coursing through his veins in this moment but pure content.
he could drink it up until it kills him.
it’s fleeting, slowly but surely as you both come back down from your absolute euphoria. bakugou fills his lungs with fresh air, the look in his eyes changes from comfortable to careful.
“I know— we have to talk. but can it be tomorrow. please?” you don’t want to make an even bigger mess.
“yeah,” he whispers under his breath, pulling the covers up to your chin and placing a lingering kiss to your forehead, “we can do that.”
bakugou blinks his eyes open to your ceiling. the, far too familiar, room is illuminated in an early yellow-blue hue. he turns over to see your sleeping figure, so soft and angelic. he takes his time admiring every last one of your features. featherlike eyelashes resting on plump cheeks. body curled up with your hands nestled into your chest. it’s one of the most precious sights he’s ever seen. he barely manages to tear himself away from it; but when he does, he picks up his stray clothes, grabs your car keys, and (for the first time in forever) sets out for two coffees.
it isn’t a save-all cure-all, but he figures it’s a good place to start.
1K notes · View notes
Nymphetamine: marriage of the words nymphomania and amphetamine; an unhealthy, beast-like addiction to one female in particular.
║ Part I ║ Masterlist ║Part III
↣ pairing: alpha!katuski x omega!reader
↣ word count: 8.4k
↣ notes: part II of III
↣ warnings: a/b/o dynamics, prime dynamics (prime alphas/omegas; stronger, more dangerous variants), noncon/dubcon (the relationship later turns consensual, but it starts out with kidnapping and a/b/o can blur the consent lines), enemies to lovers, villain!katsuki, some yandere tones, kidnapping, captivity, corruption, breeding, heats, ruts, knots, mating, claiming, bonding, possessive actions, clawing, biting, choking, belly-bulges, bruising, blood, too much fucking purring, a lot of praise, some degradation, hair pulling, size difference, creampies and cum galore
↣ summary: Science still can’t fully explain bonding between mates. In the same way no one really has an answer for dreams. Sure there are theories and sensible explanations, but it’s just so utterly natural and human that no one can really understand the meaning.
Katsuki could could blame biology for his dark actions, boil it down to you being his dynamically perfect mate. It’s so much more than that, though, and he can sense it. All he knows is that he needs you. And that he’s going to have to play by your rules to get what he desires.
As for you, you’ll never smell the same again once he takes what he wants. Your body is something natural and wild he has to contain, like the controlled burning of a forest. He’ll keep marking you so new blooms spread, so you keep purring and growing in the image he longs for.
Katsuki could get used to seeing you in his bed.
He could get used to a lot of things, really, like the sugary smell of you clinging to his skin and your claw lines down his back. Omegas etching marks into him normally pisses him off; he isn’t theirs to claim, he doesn’t belong to them.
But you? He could belong to you. He wants to belong to you, just as much as he wants to own you.
There’s a give-and-take in Alpha/Omega relationships, especially ones created between primes of the dynamics.
There’s a bond, a thready, wormy thing that is birthed the moment teeth meet the flesh of a willing throat. A chord that strums and plays to the tune of emotions.
He’ll be able to feel you, more than just your body against his or your cunt sucking in his cock. All your pain, your anger, your happiness and pleasure, it’ll all hum in his chest, ring in his ears. It’s why omegas feel sick when away from their mates for too long, why Alphas find themselves in a depression upon the loss of their mate and vice versa. It’s why mated couples who turn away from each other become so sour.
Science still can’t fully explain bonding between mates. In the same way no one really has an answer for dreams. Sure there are theories and sensible explanations, but it’s just so utterly natural and human that no one can really understand the meaning.
Katsuki always swore he’d never claim an omega, bragged about how he never wanted to be tied down. But the moment he smelled you, saw you standing in your room, appearing more beautiful than he ever remembered in the back of his mind, he knew he had to have you.
What he’s doing—taking you, forcing you into heat, wearing you down until you let him have you—it’s selfish. He knows it. But he can feel how much you want this, too. He can see how your eyes soften when he says your name, can feel how your body practically melts whenever he purrs his stupid, obnoxiously loud purr.
As he stands before his bathroom mirror, thick fingers tracing the red claw marks down the expanse of his back, admiringthem against his tattoos, he concludes that he doesn’t fucking care how selfish it is.
He wants to memorize every inch of your body, map your curves like a cartographer paints a shoreline. He can’t get enough of you, already addicted to how your breasts feel against his chest and how your thighs fill his hands.
He could blame biology, boil it down to you being his dynamically perfect mate. It’s so much more than that, though, and he can sense it.
Old memories are burning in the back of mind like polaroids being shaken to reveal dark images. Thoughts of you fighting him in class, visions of you standing before crowds in your hero costume. All the moments he couldn’t keep his eyes off you, couldn’t understand why you drove him crazy, made him feel like a love-struck fool.
All he knows is that he needs you.
And that he’s going to have to play by your rules to get what he desires.
His ears twitch as he hears you shuffling in the bedroom, searching for the lost heat of him in the dark.
“Alpha?” you call for him so softly and it makes his cock hard in an instant. He groans at the primal need bubbling in his gut. All his instincts are screaming help omega, fuck omega, claim omega, over and over again like a broken record of rut that’s been on for days.
Your plea is irresistible, has him crawling back into your little nest and purring.
He pulls you into his arms, hormones trilling as he takes in your smell. It’s hard to describe, like spicy tea and honey and the syrupy feeling in the back of his mouth after eating too much candy.
“Fuck this stupid heat just won’t stop. It hurts, Katsuki.”
“I know, I know. But I’m here to fuck you through it, yeah?”
You eye him suspiciously, “When did you get so nice?”
His jaw hurts from how hard he grits his teeth, trying to hold back the wrath that’s always gotten him in trouble.
“Since I’m stuck in my own fucking rut until your little body decides it’s had enough. So, yeah, I’m gonna be nice and help you by letting you get off on my cock.”
Katsuki smoothly rolls to have you on top of him, letting your legs drape over his waist as his cock nestles between your drooling folds.
He despises being on his back; he feels submissive. He hasn’t allowed you to ride him since the first night of your heat. But he’s willing to swallow his pride if it means gaining his prize, not to mention the view is pretty fucking delicious.
Dark bruises litter your soft skin, all fresh, all recently fucked or sucked by his design. Prime omegas heal quickly, he’s learned, the remnants of your first coupling now replaced with new colors. He strokes his hands down your sides, pausing to thumb over your nipples.
He thinks of your body as something natural and wild he has to contain, like the controlled burning of a forest. He’ll keep marking you so new blooms spread, so you keep purring and growing in the image he longs for.
Sharp pain sweeps under his nose as you groan, thighs tightening around him as you double over and wrap both hands around your neck.
Your scent glands are screaming, blood pounding against delicate, sore muscles.
Instincts kick in. He purrs to soothe you, loud and boisterous to drown out the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears.
Sitting up, he pries your fingers away from your throat, instead filling the space with his mouth.
“Don’t you fucking d—”
“Shut up,” he growls, laving his tongue over the saltiness of your skin, “I know your neck is sore. Let me help.”
You go quiet for a moment, nails tense upon his shoulders.
“I know this feels good, omega.”
A disgusted noise vibrates against his lips, but soon you’re leaning into him anyways, shivering and cooing as he starts to suck at your swollen glands to relieve the pressure.
“Tell me it feels good.”
He’s just curious to know if you will.
You rub yourself against the hard ridge of his cock, moaning and letting him catch the hum against his mouth.
“You feel good, alpha. So fucking good.”
He smirks, canine barely catching the skin of your throat.
That’s too tempting. He can’t have you until you beg for him, he promised himself that.
He wants you to scream how much you want him, how much you need him. Your alpha. When the headspace of heat evaporates, he wants you just as guilty for the tethered bond.
Katsuki lays back against his pillows, the sheets covered with cum and already wet with fresh slick.
Your nails rake against his chest, parting his downy chest hair underneath your fingertips. Hips are rolling against his cock, your slippery folds curling around his width as you slide up and down his length.
He marvels over your dilated pupils, how the gorgeous color of your eyes is but a slim ring around blown lust. Your nipples are puffy, areolas darkened and begging for his lips to circle around them. He rocks his hips against you just to watch your breasts bounce.
You hastily snatch his hands from your waist, a sound of warning and intimidation emitting from your chest. You pin his wrists by his head, leaning your heat fueled body over his.
He only laughs, subtle and dark.
“Go on,” he purrs, eyes scanning the lovely planes of your face, “take whatever you want. I won’t fight back…unless you want me to.”
The way he grins earns him a slap across his left cheek, skin smarting. The pain sprouts into pleasure seamlessly, his rut coating his skin like a protective layer.
He restrains himself, buries that all too well known anger into a pit in his stomach.
By the look on your face, you’re shocked he hasn’t flipped you onto your back and returned your slap ten-fold.
No, Katsuki has the willpower of patience. Only when he wants it.
All he does is purr.
“Oh god that fucking sound,” your head falls to his chest, little whimpers caught just behind your teeth.
“You’re the only omega who’s ever liked it.”
He’s not lying, and you can tell by the steadiness of his heart beneath your lips.
“W-what do you mean?”
“Been told it’s too fucking loud.”
Your claws dig into his wrists in warning, your cunt sliding over his cock just to make his mind flash blank for a moment.
You’re done with his games, estrous making your body feel like it’s slowly peeling apart and that only his cock can make you whole again. He senses your need in the way you groan, stomach pulsing as you raise your hips.
He watches your pussy engulf his cock. Your sink half way down, until you feel like you can’t take anymore. You’re so full, your entire heat crowded by his own, your thighs shaking. It takes several pushes of your hips to finally have your slick inner muscles open for his girth.
He grunts as you suck him in entirely, sweet flesh parting around his massive length. He loves seeing how you take him so easily, how your legs part like the sea and your tummy bulges like you can’t handle him. But you can, you were made to, made for him.
A primal sound bubbles in the back of his throat as he imagines his fingers tracing the visible outline of his cock. He grumbles profanities, his hands curling into fists from where you pin him down.
“Atta girl, take me.”
He’s egging you on, prodding the little beast that lives inside you, too.
You ride him hard and fast, hips rolling and bouncing as you keep him pinned, using him to chase away the pain and lusts of heat. The muscles in his jaw ache from the pressure he’s putting on his teeth.
“Move with me,” you demand it from him.
“No,” and it takes copious amounts of restraint to keep himself still.
But he has to prove to you that you need him, that even such a perfect, prime omega needs an alpha to fuck you until you can’t see straight.
“You’re a big girl, aren’t ya, princess? Don’t need Alpha to take care of you.”
The head of his cock is fat and firm, nestling against your womb. Every soft roll of your hips has the ridge of his cock sliding against the spongy spread of your walls, making you feel more stuffed every time you come back down to rest against his thighs. With every subtle movement you feel the entirety of his monstrous cock; the veins are hot and throbbing, skin heated and silken within you. And he feels you, smells you, a saccharine vice.
“Bet you don’t even realize how fucking tight your little cunt is. Have other alphas told you? Drooled over this pretty pussy?”
The thought of other alphas fucking you makes him want to crunch bones with his bare hands, but he keeps his cool, keeps moving pieces in his game. He’s always been tactical.
Your fingers flex against his wrists, “Yes, b-but…”
“But they can’t satisfy you like me. Like a prime fucking alpha, cause I fill you to the god damn brim because you were made to sit on my cock.”
Your head falls from the pleasure, dipping forward to where your lips are just out of reach. Hips are slamming into his now, desperate, needy cunt pulling him in over and over again.
He watches you with sharp eyes; your mind is hazing over, your body uncontrollably bucking against him, begging for another release. The way his wide head is brushing against your walls, repeatedly stroking all the right spots, has your toes curling against the sheets in pure delight. You are getting close, so fucking close, all you need is for him to allow you to go over the edge, to pull apart the fog of your heat and knot you until you find clarity.
“You need my cum. Need me to pump you so full it makes you cream.”
Katsuki arches his neck up, brushing his lips against yours to test the waters.
“You need to be fucking bred, omega.”
You whimper, breath hot against his mouth. Frustration is seeping in, even as you let go of his wrists and use your hands to pluck at your nipples and strum your clit as you slide over his cock.
“I know what you need,” he purrs, smirking as the sound makes you choke, “and as your mate, I’ll give it to you.”
He searches your eyes, unable to stop his hands from finding their home on your hips.
Irises swirl around your dilated pupils, signs of determination, pain, fear written all over your face. He can smell your vexations, your dissatisfactions. Slick sounds grow quiet as you tire yourself from bouncing on his cock for god knows how long.
“What I need…” you moan as you sit back, claws digging into his chest, “isn’t what I want.”
“Keep telling yourself that. You want me. I can smell it, feel it.”
Katsuki sits up, spearing you on his lap as he fists your hair and makes you look at him.
“Kiss me. Right. Fucking. Now.”
His lips are angry when they meet yours, canines nipping into tender flesh.
The hand in your hair flexes, pulls you closer, makes you gasp as your hands slide up his chest. Your fingers find his rumbling throat, circling over scent glands.
Your lips finally move, suddenly hungry, greedy, calling alpha into the back of his mouth.
Your palms drift up from his neck, find his face, thumbs smoothing over cheekbones. Nothing else matters anymore, just the gratification of tasting your emotions, of taking your groans into his mouth and echoing them back.
“You want me,” he breathes, feeling your cunt squeeze around his cock.
You taste sweeter than water, lips parting like rose petals heavy with rain.
“I want you.”
His tongue plunges into the back of your mouth, licking, tasting, drinking you down like a man starved. All you do is whimper and push back against his current, mouth following his rhythm.
He kisses you until he can’t breathe, until his cock aches and twitches because his balls are turning blue.
When he pulls away, your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen. Trails from tears are still hot on your skin.
“Are you crying? Pathetic. Poor omega can’t even handle a fucking kiss.”
You pout and it actually turns him on, “It’s instincts.”
“What? To fucking cry when I kiss you?”
“No,” you press your lips against his again, mewling and drawing your nails down his shoulders, “It’s just...overwhelming. Never wanted someone s-so bad before.”
Claim omega, mate omega, save omega
He can’t quiet his own impulses.
You mewl as he pulls his cock from you, leaving you empty, breathless, desperate. Far too easily, he flips you over, your chest pressing into your little nest as his rough hands pull your ass up to greet him.
Something ancient and primal takes over him, climbs down his throat and makes him growl.
“Gonna make you mine, all fucking mine.”
He shoves his cock into you dangerously rough, big hands holding your ass and pulling you back against him as he begins a ruthless, domineering pace. You screw your eyes shut, a cry erupting from your throat at his brutality. He feels alive behind you like this, feels like a god taking an offering that’s been laid out before him.
Heavy balls slap against your clit, making your body twitch with little shocks of bliss with every hard thrust. His fingers splay upon your ass and hips, each one digging and pressing into you, pulling you in closer, deeper upon his cock. His grip is delightfully painful, leaving marks on you in new places, searing and branding you as his mate.
“Feel so good wrapped around my cock, omega. Perfect. Mine.”
The Alpha’s voice is saturated in guttural possessiveness, in gluttony, in the arrogant confidence that you are his to dominate; it makes you want him more, makes your back arch and your tummy tighten like a siren’s call. Each pounding thrust he gives is angled to mercilessly bring friction at that raw craving inside you.
You’re a beast like him, human and natural and needy, oh so fucking needy. The intoxicating sounds of his loud, vicious grunts, and the almost too tight pressure of his fingers gripping your skin, fuels your urge to clench around him, pull him closer, let him in.
One of his hands abandons your hip, thick arm reaching forward and grabbing your hair, jerking your head back as he doubles down on his pace. Pleas tumble out of your mouth now, free falling into the air and encouraging him to fuck you so recklessly. AlphapleaseAlphaplease like a prayer.
The fingers in your hair pull and tug, twisting until you scream his name. You’re truly a little bitch in heat, your lust spilling over and washing your body in euphoria. It makes his rut hammer in his chest, makes hormones and instincts rage, sucked into a witch's brew.
He pulls you up higher, leaning forward to capture your shoulder between his teeth. Not rough enough to break skin, but just tempting enough to make you roll your neck to the side in invitation.
He can feel his body rocking against yours, over, and over, and over again. Cock ramming so deep inside of you that some part of him wonders if you’ll split apart.
“Look at you,” he growls into your neck, one arm winding around your belly while the other grabs your jaw, keeping your neck open to him, “you want to belong to me, don’t you?”
His cock is unforgiving, plunging into you with reckless abandon. You’re so weak, so used by his massive body and hands, cunt throbbing with every push of his cock, begging for release.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” you beg, fingers entwining with his on your tummy so you can press down, make him feel his cock drumming and bulging within your womb.
“Please what? More?”
He grins into your throat, tongue swirling over your skin.
“Take me! Fuck I’m so tired of fighting it, alpha, alpha I’m yours.”
A visceral snap cuts into his consciousness, pulls all his muscles tight.
Teeth cut into flesh like thorns, ecstasy seeping from mouth to neck as he places his claiming mark in the tender curve where your throat meets your shoulder.
It’s an instant high, for both of you.
You scream until your lungs burn while Katsuki’s knot swells in your depths until the alpha can no longer thrust.
You cream on his cock so tightly that he growls, palming where your stomach spasms and is plump from the fatness of his knot. Each ripple of your orgasm is like a milking compression, drawing cum from his balls until he’s dry and you’re drowning.
One of your hands fists in his hair and pushes him closer to where his canines are lodged into your sweet skin. You’re chanting a mixture of Katsuki and Alpha over and over, nearly limp in his hold as you both feel something worming in your chests.
The taste of blood, the taste of your honeyed scent, is thick in his mouth. Crimson the color of his eyes leaks down your chest, drips from your nipples.
But you’re not in pain, the intensity of your orgasm and the fresh culling of a bond makes time seem irrelevant. An endless loop of rapture making you both dizzy.
He doesn’t want to pull his teeth from you.
You’ll never smell the same again, your scent is already spiking, changing, morphing into a mixture of the both of you. Of caramel and honey, salt and smoke, cum and slick.
Katuski mumbles your name into your neck, over and over, until calm descends upon your spent bodies.
“Good girl, my girl,” he purrs as his tongue licks over your wound, indentions deep and ready to scar.
Still conjoined, your limbs fall into your properly broken nest, muscular arms tucked tightly around your middle, palming your red stained breasts and feeling the air in your lungs.
Your thigh drapes back over his, making Katsuki groan and bury his face into your neck.
“Alpha,” your whisper stirs him.
“What is it, little one?”
He squeezes you, feels your softness in his arms and marvels at the tightness of your cunt.
You feel comfortable in the silence, as if he can already feel the hum of what you’re feeling.
When you wake, the suffocating cloud of estrous is gone.
And you’re sore. Your insatiable drive to mate has pushed your body beyond what you thought possible, not to mention your shoulder and neck are throbbing from a recent claiming.
Anxiety pools in your chest as you stare up at the ceiling, counting early morning sun streaks across white paint.
You let Katsuki Bakugou mate you.
Let being the key word. You’d wanted him to, begged him to.
Just like he told you that you would.
There’s an urge to blame your situation on instincts, but you can’t. You fought impulses for three days, could’ve fought even longer. But there’s something about him, about his scent, about the way he fucks you. The way he kisses you.
You knew you were doomed when you tasted his need for you on his tongue.
“What hurts?” The gravels of Katsuki’s morning voice spook you, making you jump against the tattooed arm pinning you to the mattress.
“How do you know I’m hurt?”
A carmine eye peeks open, framed by long blonde hair that’s fallen into his face.
“Well, first of all, I bit you so hard you fucking bled. Second of all,” he grunts as he moves his hand between your breasts, index finger poking at your heart, “I feel it here.”
Like magic, his words pull on a thread that feels like it’s weaved between your ribs.
Something hums down the line, calming and...content. His feelings. He’s not anxious, he’s happy. Sweetened by the mating, delighted to have conquered.
Katsuki brushes his lips over yours, remnants of blood appearing like lipstick.
You turn your head without much thought, only to have your jaw snatched by his quick fingers.
“Don’t pull more of that shit on me.”
“Sorry, I...it’s gonna take some getting used to.”
His kiss is softer than you expect, lazy and wet, exploratory as he coaxes your tongue out to play. It feels natural, even has fresh slick coating your thighs. You thought by now you’d be run dry, but his lips against yours makes you hungry, makes you want to kiss him until he fucks you.
He pets your hair, only to scowl and pull away.
“God you’re filthy.”
“Are you referring to the cum that you sprayed into my hair? Or the blood you caked my tits in?”
“The blood’s on both of our hands, princess.”
Katsuki stretches like a cat as he stands, muscles rolling as he cracks his fingers above his head. You sit up and just look at him for a moment, eyes scanning his smattering of scars and ink, his limp, heavy cock resting between thighs bigger than your head.
“Oi, you can stare some other time. Shower, now.”
You’re afraid to move your legs, a thumping ache already present in your hips from being spread open like a fucktoy for days.
“Want me to carry you?”
“What? No. No, I can do this by myself, thank you.”
He crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you, quirking his brow like a dare.
You grumble a few curses, a few iterations of stupid fucking alpha, while shuffling out of sheets that shamefully crunch under your weight. You grit your teeth as you stand, pain shooting down your spine and coating you like a sour blanket.
“Well, well, and I thought I’d broken you.”
“You can try again next time.”
Katsuki passes you, slapping your ass so hard it makes you gasp and your sore flesh jiggle.
“That a challenge, omega? Cause I’ll break you if you let me.”
You stand before a mirror for the first time in days, shocked only because you look...beautiful. A mess, but a pretty one, far prettier than you expected. You finger the tender bite mark on your neck, hissing at the red moon shape branded into your skin.
Water splashes in the shower as he gets in and you shiver at the thought of cold water barrelling over his skin.
Your skin, however, is positively glowing. You almost feel out of your body, as if your thoughts are some omnipotent voice telling you that you’re radiant, shining and flushed between the bouquets of bruises that bloom all over you. You hum at their sight, omega instincts so thoroughly pleased to see alpha marks all over your figure. Even the blood on your chest is a pleasing sight.
Imprints from your alpha.
You blink at yourself in the mirror, attempting to rake your fingers through the cum in your hair.
You’re mated. Taken. Off the market and bound forever.
It doesn’t feel real. But it is, the soreness of your muscles and the perpetual ache of your pussy remind you.
“Water’s warm. Get a rag, you’re gonna need it.”
You heed his warning and grab a cloth from the towel rack before stepping into the spacious shower with him.
It’s unsurprising that he lives in opulence. He seems to enjoy space, perhaps because his massive body takes up so much of it. The shower makes you feel rich, really, covered in expensive hand laid tiles, heavy glass doors, with overhead waterfall streams that feel heavenly on weary muscles.
Katsuki snatches the rag from your hand and gets to work, scrubbing away cakey cum and sweat from your body, paying a little too much attention to the grime between your thighs.
He’s diligent, focused, going so far as to crouch to wash your calves and pry your feet into his hands to work between your toes.
“Easy, Katsuki, I’m still a little delicate,” you steady yourself by gripping his shoulder.
“Call me Alpha.”
“I’ll call you whatever I want because you’re mine.”
A ferine grin looks up at you, water dripping over his alluring features. He looks rather handsome when wet, masculine jaw cutting through the water and his hair pushed back from his face, sticking to his neck.
“Mhm, possessive already? I like that.”
You could try to deny it, but the tether between you is giving you away. You meant what you said and he feels it.
It’s hard not to feel greedy regarding a man who now smells ever so slightly like you.
Katsuki stands, blocking most of the warm shower spray as he begins to paw and wipe at the blood on your chest, tender with your nipples even if he spends a little too long washing them.
“How—why did you do this? Why me?”
He kisses the top of your head as he works, like he can’t help himself, “I take what I want.”
“Just another pretty thing to add to your collection.”
Carefully, he smoothes the washcloth over your shoulder, his jaw flexing as you wince from the pain of him cleaning the raw, sensitive claiming bite. He opts for a more traditional method, choosing to run his tongue, hotter than the water, against your mark. His actions make your eyes flutter, something so utterly primal swirling in your stomach as he laps at your skin.
He does this in duty, not remorse.
“Finally coming to your senses?”
“I haven’t had time to think clearly, you know. Being forced into heat and all that.”
“You weren’t forced—”
“You kidnapped me.” But your hands are tracing over the muscles in his chest anyways.
“Touché. But you went into heat naturally, all it took was the scent of a prime alpha and you were sent off into omega la la land.”
Just the words “prime alpha” make you weak in the knees. You’d fucked one before, sure, but he was mated, it wasn’t the same. But this...the power Katsuki has over you is nearly palpable just from his scent, let alone how his constant, delicious loud purring makes you want to bury yourself into his chest and live in his arms forever.
Katsuki takes his time with your hair, being as gentle as his heavy hands will allow him to be while washing out all the remnants of his rut.
You lean into his touch and coo, purring right along with him.
“Alpha?” you say it just to make him happy. Instincts.
“What? Soap in your eyes?”
“No, no, I... earlier you said...you said other omegas didn’t like how you purr.”
“They absolutely fucking didn’t,” he dips half of your head under the spray, rinsing out shampoo, “Supposed to be comforting but all I got was complaints that’s too damn loud, that they can’t think, one even said it scared her.”
It’s strange, you think, that something that makes you so wet would fill another omega with fear.
“But then you come along and you can’t get enough of it, can you?” Katsuki purrs to make a point, laughing as you melt back against his chest at the sound.
“Must be a prime omega thing. I’ve always been weak to a strong purr.”
Katsuki deems you clean with a pat on your behind, shoving the cloth into your hand so you can wring it out and soap it up for his back.
It all feels so domestic, natural. A false sense of security, perhaps.
He goes quiet as you spend time on him. Fingers roam over puckered scars, dig into thick muscle, trace over coils of ink. You haven’t been able to focus on him before, and you take note of how stunning the artwork is on his body. It’s traditional, bold, curls over his bicep and creeps onto his shoulder and back. So smooth it’s almost as if koi could swim through the currents.
“And how many alphas have purred for you, hm?”
The note of jealousy makes you smirk.
“Enough to get me through heats when need be.”
There’s a hand around your neck before you can blink, your sore body thudding against the coarse shower wall as your alpha towers over you. Rage surges through him, like wildfire lit in underbrush.
His patience runs thin when envy arises.
“That’s not what I was asking, omega.”
“T-two,” you pry at his forearm, gaining yourself a little bit of air.
“Just two?” his eyes gleam like he doesn’t believe you.
“I’ve gone through most of my heats alone—I had to.”
His thumb pets your throat, a warning.
“Stop! It d-doesn’t matter.”
Katsuki lifts you from the safety of your feet with ease, one hand cinched around your neck while the other hooks your leg around his waist. He presses the weight of himself against you, rubs his cock between your folds. Hard and wanting, waiting.
“Let me tell you something, little one. I own you. You’re my bitch. You only have free will because I allow it, so mind your fucking tongue and tell me what I want to know.”
His words cut like a jagged knife, but even still you shake your head in defiance.
The answers will only ignite him.
You pray down to the hot coil of emotions in your chest, asking whatever this fucking bond is to tell him you can’t.
“Oh you fucking can. Do I have to remind you who you belong to? Is the pain in your mark not enough?”
As if on cue, your shoulder throbs, hums, telling you this is your alpha. Your mate.
“Please…” you’re going dizzy; the heat of his body, the steam of the shower, the loss of blood flow to your head, it’s all making the world feel too hot, too dark.
Katsuki releases his hold on your throat, letting you cling to him and gasp for air.
In the haze, his cock breaches your body, knocking the fresh breath right back out of your lungs.
Even without the headspace of heat, he feels perfect against you. Whole, massive, a force to be reckoned with and swept away by.
Your hands cling to his wet skin as he holds you, hips thrusting, large fingers digging into the meat of your thighs. Water races down his back, splashes over your curves. But you barely feel it, too consumed with the ruthless rhythm of him inside you.
“Where’d all that defiance go, hm?”
Skin against skin saturates the steam, your moans echoing off the shower walls. Your breasts are trapped against thick pectorals, sliding against the light dusting of hair found there. You fight to keep your mouth from falling agape, but the intensity of him has your lips parting and incessantly moaning for him. Alpha, alpha, alpha.
He’s like a drug, intoxicating and overwhelming. Satisfying, but always leaves you craving more.
“You’re mine, all fucking mine. I’ll tear apart every man who touched you before me.”
The words make you shake, whispered with devil’s breath against your neck.
Your thighs flex around his waist as you lean back against the wall, changing the angle to where he can barrel inside you with all his strength. It burns, makes your cunt throb at the stretch of him.
“I-I’ll tell you,” your nails are slipping from his shoulders, hands having to thread into his hair, around his neck. “Just not now. Shouldn’t be—ah, oh fuck,” his thumb is swirling over your clit, the swollen nub unprotected from the spread of his cock, “I shouldn’t moan another man’s n-name while you’re—”
You’re sure he gets the picture, a rush of ecstasy making it hard for you to speak.
He grunts, “Cheeky. Real fucking cheeky.”
His thumb hovers your clit, allowing each thrust of his cock to make it brush just perfectly against the pad of his finger. His palm presses against your belly, applying pressure to the bulge moving inside your depths. That makes you scream, head thumping against the shower wall as you try to find some sanity.
“Bet they didn’t fuck you this good.”
“No, no, not like you, alpha, fuckfuck—” you feel like you’re in heat all over again, tummy tightening and all your impulses begging to be fucked, bred, held, bitten, filled with cum until you can’t take anymore.
Katsuki smells and feels like nirvana, like home. Like you could die and be reborn on his cock a hundred times over with every fresh plunge of him inside you.
This is what it’s like to fuck your mate.
Unbridled, wild. Big hands holding you against a mountainous body as he pounds you into oblivion. Thoughts gone, cunt weeping. Bond between your ribs strumming like a symphony.
He feels it too, movements a little more erratic, your name falling off his tongue in reverence.
Your orgasm begins to swell, calling you to kiss him, to hold on tight before you fall.
“I’ll give you everything,” you don’t know what’s come over you as your hands find his face, making him kiss you until his canines catch the edge of your mouth, rough and deep like underbelly currents of the sea. “Yours. Only.”
Over and over, until the pattern is lost, primal grunts and groans as limbs tangle.
“Cum for me,” he focuses on sliding against the most sensitive flesh inside you, “know you need it.”
From his words, you cum, moans rippling from your throat and eyes closing as you allow the waves of orgasm to wash over your body, every single nerve ending exploding with ecstasy and pleasure in intensities only he can bring. Your alpha. Your Katsuki.
Your walls struggle to clench around his enormous cock, the fluttering of your insides lasting longer and longer as your body writhes in white hot heat. The intense sucking of your cunt makes him cream, the lack of rut making his knot barely swell. It’s enough to make you feel stuffed, for a moment, before he pulls out of you.
Katsuki sets you down, but doesn’t let you go. Thick arms curl around your back, pressing your face into his wet chest.
You listen to him breathe, listen to the echoes of his heart buried deep within all that muscle.
Then he purrs a new tune, one that says sorry, comfort, sorry.
Katsuki disappears once he leaves the bathroom, storming off naked to some part of his penthouse you’ve yet to explore.
You take time to yourself. Fix your hair, just...enjoy silence as you throw on one of his t-shirts and stare out at the Musutafu skyline from his bedroom.
Time drips slowly as you drift away into the infinite void of your thoughts.
You’re mated. You can’t come to terms with it mentally, but instinctually you’re singing. It feels like you’ve fulfilled some ancient purpose, finally found an alpha to permeate the biological and emotional emptiness that’s followed you since the day you presented as Omega.
Life has been uprooted, your dreams of making it into the top ten of the hero charts already dissipated. There’s no way a hero and a villain can coexist as a bonded pair. One of you will have to give in to a new way of living...and what Katsuki has, what he’s created in all his years of commanding a seedy underworld, is something you shamefully desire.
He has everything. Even you, the omega determined to make herself unattainable, broken down by a prime alpha’s tenacity.
You’re no fool, at least not while you’re out of heat, anyways. You think back to how smart he was to prey on your pride, to let you think, just for a moment, that you could use him to find release. Only to prove that you couldn’t.
Biology is a bitch. And your alpha is crafty.
Picking apart the pillows and blankets in the nest bed you were mated in is melancholic. Raw memories play in the back of your mind as you gather cummy sheets and bloody threads. The smell is almost toxic, lust and desperation seeped into the sweat stains.
You never imagined your claiming would be like this. Though, you never really thought about it at all, content to play the charade of beta hero until you were past the age for breeding.
A new realization bubbles in your gut. You’ll get to have a family.
It’s not that you never wanted one, sure every little omega has had dreams of swelling with children that look like their alpha, but that’s a reverie you tucked away a long time ago. Heroes often don’t have the time to raise kids, and the ones that do seem to fuck it up since their lives are consumed with helping others or finding some sick fame.
Well, if Katsuki even wants kids. You don’t know his life, don’t know if they’ll fit into whatever picture he’s trying to paint.
But they might be an inevitability if he fucks you like a beast through every heat. And that’s something you know is truly inescapable.
Gathering all the messy bedding, you groan at the soreness of your body and the tenderness of your shoulder as you attempt to carry it all down the stairs.
Bare feet shuffle on the wood floors until you find the door to the laundry room.
Low-spirits rest in your chest as you drop all your items into the large washer. You stare at them for a moment, fingers drumming against the glass lid. Some part of you hurts to wash away all the scents of your mating nest, while another is happy to see it go.
His penthouse is huge, spanning the entirety of an apartment floor. Some designer was paid very handsomely seeing that every nook and cranny is perfectly decorated. Dark tones with a modern flair, expensive and dripping in luxury.
Katsuki is somewhere, you can feel him, hear him yelling at someone over the phone. The noise comes from a room tucked away near what appears to be a personal library. It’s all for show, you assume, dust settled on book spines and pristine pages without wear.
It’s all a show, really. Just a way for him to revel in his own wealth...not that you wouldn’t do the same.
You peek into his office when you hear him grow quiet.
He’s still naked as the day he was born, one leg draped on top of a fairly clean desk. His thigh is thick and flexing like he’s angry.
He looks huge, powerful, sunlight soaking into tawny skin as he furiously writes something on his phone. His tattoos look less menacing and more artful in the noonday light.
There’s something squirming in your chest, growing in your gut.
“What’s puzzling you?”
Katsuki’s head snaps at the sound of your voice, eyes like hard gemstones when he looks at you.
“Nothing. Shouldn’t you be like napping or some shit?”
Crossing your arms, you lean against his door frame, well aware that his nose is twitching at the smell of your pussy hiding just out of reach under the shirt you’ve claimed.
“Don’t tell me you think all I do is fuck and sleep?”
“That’s all you’ve done for four days,” he smirks, knowing full well you were just in heat.
“Well I’m back to being more...cognizant now. And I can feel you, too, you know. I know something’s bothering you.”
Heavy hands shove against his desk as he stands, growling and prowling around his office like an animal in a cage.
“Just not…” he sighs, hand running over his face, “god damn it, I feel guilty for getting mad at you, alright? I don’t...I shouldn’t know who you fucked before me. It won’t end well.”
“You? Guilty? I’m in shock. At least age has helped your self-awareness.”
He sneers at your sarcasm, finally approaching you within the doorway. The muscle in his jaw is twitching, fists clenching, cock incredibly distracting between his legs despite being flaccid.
“Listen. I’m just not...I’m not used to this,” he presses his hand so hard against your chest that it makes an audible thunk, makes you jump, “whatever the fuck is in here.”
Mimicking him, you slip your fingers between his firm pectorals, palm flat against the root of your bond.
“Yeah, it’s...it’s nothing like what they teach us about, is it? I mean I suppose everyone feels bonds differently, but you...you’re really fucking intense, Katsuki. It’s been barely twelve hours and I’ve felt you tugging at me, like you’re trying to take me all over again.”
The pads of his fingers smooth over your chest, crumpling thin cotton as he pets at you.
“What else does it feel like?” He’s gone serious on you, fury tucked away in his back pocket.
“Like thread, like you’ve wrapped me up in a fucking lasso and strung me tight. And it’s...warm, burning hot, like how your body flashes when you’re caught in a lie or scared.”
Absently, his fingers trace over your bite mark. He blinks a few times, pulling the big shirt down your shoulder only to look confused.
“You’re not bleeding anymore. Jesus you’re almost healed. Is that part of your quirk?”
You look down at your shoulder, genuinely surprised to see your mark scabbed, new skin already growing around the edges of where your scars will be.
“No, I’ve just...always healed quickly. But not like this.”
“Your body accepted my mark well apparently. Must’ve wanted it.”
You can’t help but smooth your hand down his chest and feel the grooves of his abdomen against your nails.
“What do I feel like?” you ask, bolder in his presence.
“What are we fucking virgins exploring each other?”
“In a way, yeah, we are. A fresh bonded pair that doesn’t know what this all means.”
Katsuki only grunts, cupping your tit in his hand.
“You claw at me, deep in my chest. And...god damn how do you explain this? You feel...like sex, I guess. Passionate. Tight. But silky, like this weird thready thing just glides over me like water.”
“You know, I bet someone would love to psychoanalyze us.”
He snorts at that, genuine smile creeping onto his face.
“Do you regret it?” He looks pointedly at you, but he’s soft. Honest.
That’s a heavy question, but you answer it quickly.
“No. Because this,” you point your finger between the two of you, moving closer so you can wrap yourself around his naked body, “is the best I’ve ever felt.”
No wonder people kill for their mates.
Katsuki leans down to nose at your neck, scenting your skin with his, lips ghosting over your cheek.
“Because you’re no longer hiding what you are,” he purrs, loud enough to make your bones turn to jelly so you cling to him, “a lion in a world of lambs.”
It takes a few weeks for you to learn just what kind of lion Katsuki is.
He tries to keep the more sinister parts of his life hidden from you, but you catch glimpses from time to time. The smell of iron on his skin when he comes home late, a fresh scar hiding between the lines of his tattoos.
He’s become a more gentle beast with you, all sweet purrs and morning sex and kisses to your neck as you both try to work through the novelty of mating. But you know whenever he leaves you behind, he’s as brutal as he’s ever been. Perhaps more so, because now he’s got an omega to care for, to buy a new life for.
A few days after your claiming, you asked for all your old things, to at least be able to contact your agency and tell them you aren’t dead, just...out of commission.
Both requests were met with a stern, canine sneering no.
Instead, he bought you more lavish things than you could imagine. Luxury clothes, shoes, skincare, a top of the line phone with even more top of the line security so your access is limited.
He even bribed the news outlets to stop the reports on the missing hero.
You’re living the life of a spoiled princess stuck in a tower, just waiting for your testy prince charming to return home and fuck you until you can’t see straight.
Some rational part of you tells you to run away, that you need to escape and live your life, but that’s always smothered the moment Katsuki comes through the door and the bond in your chest flutters and chirps like a bird stuck in a cage.
This particular night, he shuffles in around two a.m., suit jacket and tie noticeably absent. You’ve been curled up on the couch reading, so your ears perk when you hear him grunt and run water into the kitchen sink.
He never speaks to you about work, still cautious about revealing things you already know. It’s still just suspicions as long as he doesn’t offer confirmations.
“You should be asleep, princess.”
The sleeves on his white shirt are rolled tightly around his forearms, speckled with a recent red. He’s dutifully scrubbing away between his fingers, erasing scent, evidence.
“Hard to sleep without you. You know, most couples take a honeymoon after they mate so they can figure out all the fresh influx of feelings and bullshit.”
There’s amusement in his glare, “You asking me to take you on a vacation?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to being able to leave your apartment. But not what I meant. I’m just saying—”
“You want more attention?”
“I—no, I’m saying that eventually I’ll be able to sleep without you here. It’s all just so new, bodies and hormones figuring shit out. It won’t always be so raw.”
The way Katsuki smiles catches you off guard, like a little boy holding back a secret. He chuckles, takes pause in washing his hands so he can look at you.
“You don’t get it, do you? Primes aren’t like that, especially not together. You’re gonna be lovestruck for me till the day one of us dies.”
A hum runs through your chest, straight to your heart, that tells you that he’s very, very thrilled by this prospect.
He shakes his hands in the sink, blood and water still coating his palms as he moves to cup your face.
“I picked you because of what you are. Who you are is just a bonus. Together we can be fucking limitless.”
The scent of blood is thick on his hands, makes you turn your cheek so you can inhale who was once in his grasp.
“Smells like another alpha,” it smells familiar, but you keep that to yourself.
“I’m sure it does.”
Katsuki slips his thumb between your lips, admiring how you willingly curl your tongue against his skin. He has no fear of you biting him, of you fighting back. It hurts too much to do so, makes your head go numb and your ribs ache if you deny yourself the pleasure of having him.
You recognize the taste in your mouth almost instantly. Blood of an alpha you’ve lied with.
Katsuki always gets what he wants, doesn’t he?
He’ll corrupt you, you know he will. Take your bond and wrap it around your throat until every heroic thought is washed away and replaced by his own ideologies.
Your mate is awakening something wicked inside of you, and it terrifies you.
It makes you feel alive.
Part I | Part III
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𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 - 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ↣ 𝖻𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗀𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗒.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 ↣ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿
𝐰/𝐜 ↣ 𝟢.𝟧𝗄
𝐚/𝐧 ↣ 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗅𝗈𝗅 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗀𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗒 😭
“hey, come to the bathroom real quick” you read from your phone after receiving a text from bakugou. you sighed and got out of bakugou’s cozy bed, heading for the bathroom to see what he wanted.
“what do you want katsuki? you were supposed to come back to your room like 10 minutes ago so we could watch a movie.” you huffed as you walked into the bathroom and were greeted by bakugou who was only wearing a towel around his waist.
“stop being such a brat, it didn’t even take that long. anyways, i called you in here because i need your help.” he declared.
“YOU need MY help? the world is ending.” you joked while giggling to yourself.
“oh just shut up” bakugou grumbled while holding back a smile. without any warning, he wrapped his hands around your waist and hoisted you up onto the bathroom counter.
“are you trying to fuc—”
“don’t.” bakugou quickly said before you even got to finish your sentence. “shave my face.” he continued while handing you a razor and shaving cream.
“and you couldn’t do this yourself because…?” you laughed while grabbing the supplies from him.
“i like it when you do it. plus, i’m tired” he stated simply.
“fine you manchild. first, let’s swap positions” you said while stepping down from the counter.
“why? you won’t be able to reach me from there” he questioned confusedly while complying nonetheless.
“so i can do this” you said before getting back up to sit on his lap while wrapping your legs around him.
“so damn clingy” bakugou said in fake annoyance while trying to hide the blush creeping upon his face.
“you know you love it” you said before you both landed into a comfortable silence while you shaved his stubble. looking up at him, you saw him already staring at you.
“why are you staring at me you creep?” you joked while breaking the silence.
“because you’re so beautiful” bakugou freely complimented you without holding back or throwing in an insult.
“that’s how i know you’re tired” you laughed.
“am i not allowed to compliment my girlfriend? i should’ve just called you ugly” he said while yawning and nuzzling his head into your chest as he wrapped his arms around your body.
“katsu get off, you’re getting shaving cream on me! i have one more spot left.” you said while trying to free yourself from his grip.
“no. i’m tired. we’re going to bed now.” he mumbled before lifting himself up with you still on him and carrying you both to his bed.
reaching his room, he plopped you down on his bed and you looked at him with a scowl on your face.
“why are you looking at me like that?” he questioned, not laying down until you answered him.
“you got shaving cream all over my shirt.”
“stop whining, you know you can wear one of mine.” he sighed while handing you an oversized shirt from his closet.
“yay!” you cheered while swapping your shirts.
“let’s go to sleep now” he sighed in relief as he entered the warmth of his bed and immediately wrapped his arms around your waist with you facing him.
“katsuki?” you said softly while stroking his face gently.
“hmm?” we hummed while nuzzling his face further into your hands.
“you know you’re going to have one patch of hair left on your face and you’re gonna look like an idiot, right?”
“go to hell”
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𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖊 | kinktober special.
𝖋𝖙. virgin bakugou katsuki, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki.
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. loss of virginity, fem reader, makeouts, dry humping, moaning, overstimulation, handjobs, first times, fingering, afab reader.
𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖘. 730 words.
𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. another kinktober surprise, hehe <3
𖤐 Bakugou hasn’t even had his first kiss yet but he likes to pretend that he knows what he’s doing. His kisses are rough and sloppy, the aggressiveness of his usual actions also translating into them as he pins you against the wall, his hands shaking as he harshly grips your wrists trying to hide his embarrassment while his cock painfully throbs in his pants, rock hard from just a simple kiss. He tries to fight his urges and ignore his need for release but no matter how hard he tries to resist he just can’t fight the way his hips miserably rut against the soft plush of your thighs, his groans are muffled against your lips while his movements get faster, desperate whimpers escaping him as he indulges himself in the pleasurable feeling of getting lost in you—your touch, your taste, and before you know it a strangled groan is forced out of his throat as he finishes in his boxers. A huge blush on his cheeks as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, his shaky breaths and pants filling the silence in the room as his embarrassment surfaces. His body still betraying him as his cum-stained pants continue grinding against you, milking him for all that he’s worth.
𖤐 Izuku is painfully loud, unable to control the moans and whines escaping him while your hand is loosely wrapped around his cock, and you love every second of it. You love the way his hips jerk up to meet your strokes, his quivering thighs as he tries to keep himself from finishing too fast. His face is flushed, a light blush covering his freckled cheeks while sweat drips down his forehead as his entire body quivers from your just touch. Every single brush of your skin against his sending him hurling straight into his orgasm even as he desperately grips the arm of the chair and bites his lower lip it does nothing to stop a loud cry of your name from escaping him as he cums all over himself, making a mess on his torso and all over your hand while his sensitive cock twitches from the overwhelming feeling of your hands still pumping him through it. He squirms underneath you, tears welling up in his eyes as the intense painful pleasure leaves his mind blank, unable to decide if he’s begging you for more of the ecstasy you’re offering him or for you to stop your skillful movements on his already drained cock.
𖤐 Todoroki wasn’t exactly clueless, he had some idea of what to do but he loved it when you were in charge. Telling him exactly what you wanted from him as you guided his hands to your dripping hole. He’d often forget about his own pleasure as he got lost in your intoxicating expressions, loving the way your eyes would flutter shut as his fingers slipped into your pussy. He groans at the way your warm walls clamped down on them, wondering what they would feel like once they were finally wrapped around his aching cock but that could wait. He loved the hushed whispers of his name that fell from your lips as he repeatedly brushed against all of your sensitive spots, your back arching from the direct stimulation. He was proud at the way he seemed to know your body better than you did, knowing exactly where to curl his fingers and what spots to hit to have you begging for more and he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt when you came all over his fingers. Your arousal dripping down them as he pumped them in and out of your entrance, helping you ride out your orgasm before you greedily crawled into his lap and returned the favour.
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