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#katsuki bakugou fic
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As You Command Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Pairing: Dragon king! Bakugou x Fem Reader
Summary: Since you were children, Prince Bakugou has taken a special interest in making your life as hellish as possible. As his future advisor, it's your job to grin and bear it, no matter how much you wish you could teach him a lesson. When the chance for you to leave the kingdom presents itself and the Prince stops it, you're sure it's just another one of his poorly planned pranks that will end badly for the both of you. But could there be more to his actions than you realize?
Genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, romance
Series Warnings: (I will add specific warnings to each chapter) this series will contain smut, cursing, violence, kidnapping, character death, drinking, and may mention dark themes (non-con/dub-con)
Based off this blurb
Series Playlist on Spotify
Schedule: on hiatus
Chapter 1: here
Chapter 2: here
Extra Blurb 1: TBD
Chapter 3: TBD
-(updated May 18th, 2023)
943 notes · View notes
touyangel · 1 year
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You and boyfriend!Bakugou drunkenly fuck one night without a condom, his burning mouth on your nipples and fat cock buried in you felt too good to tell him to stop before he came inside.
And he did. Deep, deep in you.
It’s not until a few weeks later that you don’t quite feel like yourself. You purchase a pregnancy test and take it, glaring at it from the toilet the whole two minutes it takes to curate your results.
Positive.
Katsuki gets home and instantly notices your nerves, and you can’t wait to tell him after dinner like you’d planned. When his belly would be full and he’d be at his most content.
So you tell him. And he smiles.
Later, when he gets you under him again, he starts cooing down at you, “Such a good girl that you got pregnant from doing it raw just one time?” You feel a hot and heavy hand linger on your lower belly, warm eyes looking down at you with reverence, “Fucked you so well this pussy had no choice, huh?”
10K notes · View notes
shotoh · 1 year
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all mine
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SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 9.6k+
genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst
tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language
author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all 
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The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.
“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.
“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.
“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.
The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”
Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.
A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.
She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.
One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.
If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.
Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.
Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”
Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.
“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”
“But–”
“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.
“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”
.
.
Man, what an annoying woman.
Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.
His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.
“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.
But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.
Besides...
“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”
His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”
He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.
You.
“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.
After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.
While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.
The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.
Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.
Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.
You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.
The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.
Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.
“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.
Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.
Fuckin’ hell.
The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.
In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.
Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”
The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.
His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.
Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.
“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.
The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”
He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.
You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.
Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.
“You’re killing me here, dammit.”
You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”
He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.
Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.
He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.
“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”
The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.
Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.
Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.
The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.
He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.
“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.
Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”
“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.
Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”
“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.
“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”
He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”
“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”
“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.
“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”
“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”
Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.
Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?
To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.
Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?
This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.
“You free tomorrow?”
“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”
“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”
Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”
“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.
Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”
“Hold it, I still have a piece–”
“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”
“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.
With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.
“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.
“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”
Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,
“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”
.
.
There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.
The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.
Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.
Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.
Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.
While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.
“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.
“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”
“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”
You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.
“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.
“H… Hold the door!” she pants.
Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.
You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.
She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.
“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”
It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.
You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.
You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.
“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.
With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.
I thought I covered that…
You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this  morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.
You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.
You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.
Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”
She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”
You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?
You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.
The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.
“Heya, Katsu–”
“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.
You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.
He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”
“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.
“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.
“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.
“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”
Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”
Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.
“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.
After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”
“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.
“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.
Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”
“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”
“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.
“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.
As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”
You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.
The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.
You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.
“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.
You bite your lower lip. “Well…”
Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”
It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.
In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.
You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.
“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.
“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.
“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”
“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.
A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.
Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.
“You did well, princess.”
His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.
God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.
Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.
While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.
The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.
“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”
“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.
“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”
Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”
“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”
A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.
“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”
Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.
“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.
In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.
Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”
“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.
“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.
He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”
Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.
“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”
At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.
“Bend over.”
Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.
With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.
“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.
Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.
“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”
“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”
At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.
“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”
Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.
“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.
“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.
“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.
“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.
Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.
“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.
The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”
Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.
“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.
“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”
Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.
“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.
“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.
Oh, fuck it.
As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.
You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.
“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.
“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.
By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.
With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.
Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.
“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point
“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”
“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.
Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.
“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”
“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.
Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.
After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.
“Feel sticky…”
“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.
Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”
“Fine. Such a princess…”
“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.
The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”
Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.
“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”
You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”
“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”
“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.
“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.
And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.
“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.
“What’s so funny?!”
“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”
At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.
“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.
The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.
“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.
“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.
And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.
When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.
“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.
“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.
You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”
“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.
“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”
.
.
The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.
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copyright 2022 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated elsewhere so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
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bfbkg · 8 months
Note
Okay but imagine this for a sec. ph!bakugou and ph!yn doing the wired autocomplete interview 👀👀
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WIRED AUTO COMPLETE INTERVIEW
cw: you n him
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sorry i’m imagine a lil press tour thing so again i like imagining yn in her tube top and long pretty maxi skirt and bakugou’s wearing the same brand but in all black with his massive ass prada boots.
same intro but you make bakugou do it this time.
“i hate this shit.”
“just say the line!”
when the director shouts go, bakugou slouches further in his chair.
“hi. it’s katsuki and yn. we’re doing the wired autocomplete interview…. that good enough?”
and you sigh a laugh, “well i was supposed to say my name but—,”
next scene you’re holding bakugou’s google question board and your chairs are noticeably closer together.
“do you ever google yourself?” you ask.
“nah. anything i need to know gets sent to me by you anyway.”
“hey! it’s not my fault people post pictures of you in action or articlesabout you saving a cat from a tree.”
bakugou rolls his eyes.
“out of everythin’ i’ve done in my life.”
you read off the board, “is dynamight… a hero?”
you giggle and bakugou leans forward to read it again. “what dumb BLEEP-ing question is that? no, i’m a villain.”
you nod, “yeah he’s the number one villain.”
bakugou licks across his teeth, “you’d love it if i was.”
“we’re not doing this again!”
“is dynamight… number one?”
to that you pull out your phone, “has this months chart come out?”
he’s always between one or two, fighting with deku for the spot and if todoroki’s had a good month, he might drop to three. that’s only happened twice within his many years.
bakugou grins at you, “what do you think it is without lookin’?”
you purse your lips in thought, “one? you did save that cat from the tree.”
bakugou grunts, “you’re not gonna let go of that are you?”
“why was it so adorable then?” you make a noise of exclamation, “aha i was right, number one!”
you show your phone to the camera, glowing dynamight as number one for the official hero ranking.
bakugou shrugs like it’s normal which to him, it is.
“is dynamight… married to yn?” you flicker your eyes up to the ruby ones beside you, “i dunno dynamight am i?”
“we are in a long term committed official serious exclusive lovin’ relationship,” he lists, more emphasis on every word.
you raise your eyebrows, “you didn’t even answer the question?”
he grumbles under his breath before swinging his hands in the air, “no we’re not married but that’s not my fault. you said you don’t wanna be married yet!”
you laugh, “that’s true. so yeah he’s just my boyfriend. one foot out of line from him and he’s gone.”
“just?” he juts a thumb towards your body, “she’s gonna be the one beggin’ me to marry her.”
“you’d never let me propose to you.”
bakugou huffs, “damn right.”
“is dynamight… on steroids?”
bakugou gasps, leaning forward to read the board correctly. “no fuckin’ way, that one’s there ‘cause of you! you actually had people googlin’ that BLEEP.”
you scratch your arm sheepishly, “i might have joked, emphasis on joked, that katsuki’s so big because he takes ‘roids in that vogue interview…. which obviously isn’t true.”
big crossed muscled arms look back at you. “obviously?” he mimics.
“obviously!”
bakugou shakes his head, biting his cheek to stop his smile from spreading at your face. he takes on a more serious posture, large hands at his knees to speak to the camera.
“in summary, i basically live off protein and meat. a cookie randomly when she makes them.” he cocks his head to you and you smile at the camera, “then mostly focus on my arms to hold my gauntlets and then lots of cardio for stamina, then weights for strength. but mostly my workouts are in quirk training practice too which is specific to me, so it depends on you.”
“was that even helpful?” you say with a frown and bakugou pushes your chair away with his foot, causing a loud screech across the ground. you’re now 90 degrees away from the camera, so you twist around to glare at your boyfriend.
“hey!”
“lets see if any of your answers are gonna be helpful, hah?”
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satorusdiary · 10 months
Note
reader biting bakugo’s muscles? 🥹
I LIKE THIS, esp cs he got some big muscles.
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Boyfriend! Katsuki Bakugo x Reader
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Imagine this. Normally on a Thursday night you would be waiting on the couch for your boyfriend Katsuki to come home after his patrol.
As of right now, things were different. At 11:34 pm on a Thursday night, you’re laying on your boyfriend’s muscular chest whilst watching a random spider man movie. Your cheek was smushed against his chest. His arms were around your head, and around your waist, you were sure your eyes were drooping.
The yawn you let out caught the older man’s attention, looking away from the large tv to look down at you. A small grin appeared on his face, which turned into bored expression aswell as a tsk coming out of his lips.
“you wanted to watch this stupid movie, now your sleeping on it? C’mon baby, you can do better than that.” He coo’s, kissing your temple.
You scoffed in response, rubbing your eyes. Yet the heat building up in your chest continued to rise, as well as the beats in your heart.
“shut up, ‘m jus more tired than usual, kats.” The sentence that was let out was more of a mumble than an actual straight up response. That’s how your boyfriend knew you were tired.
Your boyfriend snorted in response. “You better stay the fuck awake.. ‘already so long into the movie.” He paused, taking in the scene in-front of him.
“oh.. the girlfriend is falling.” A gruesome expression appears on his face as he watches her fall.
Usually you’d be awake for this type of stuff, but your eyes were struggling to stay open.
With the little amount of strength you had left in you, your e/c orbs darted to Katsukis meaty arms. You hadn’t noticed how toned it was, considering that he was only in a wife beater.
Though you could barely move, the only movement you made was moving your head from off his chest, to his arm. Taking a chomp out of the area that you felt was the most appropriate.
Chomp!
Katsuki didn’t flinch, instead he paused the movie and looked down at you who was biting the fuck out of his bicep.
“You little shit— did you just fuckin bite me??” Katsuki grumbles, lightly shaking you off so you would stop biting him.
A bite mark was left on his bicep, it didn’t hurt. Obviously it didn’t hurt, or caused any problems to your boyfriend. But he was concerned on how why you did it.
You grinned in response, rubbing on the bite mark before kissing it.
“Sorry suki, y’ur arms are just s’ unresistible.” You moaned in sastisfsction, head snuggling deeper into his chest.
He rolled his eyes, propping two fingers on your chin to force you to look at him.
“You’re stupid, dunno how I ended up with you.” Katsuki grumbled, placing a few kisses on your eager, pretty lips.
“You love me” you smiled, kissing his red cheek.
“you know i do, sweets.”
As he thought everything was over, you placed one last kiss to his cheek. Before biting the soft, chubby part.
Katsukis eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching in annoyance.
“You’re going to be the fuckin death of me, ‘little brat..” He uttered, repeatedly whilst you giggle the night away.
Even if he was grumpy, his arms always found a way to hug you tighter. The whole night was spend giggling, having fun, biting, all of the above. The movie was long forgotten.
Even if you kept biting him, all he wanted was a soothing kiss on the bite. That’s because he loves you.
Even if you’re a pain in the ass.
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miingyur · 11 months
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baby fever | bakugou headcanons
part 2 part 3
tags: suggestive themes, not proof read, heat in the moment writing, fem reader, mentions of pregnancy, established marriage, they’re pro heroes, crappy writing.
word count: 642
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☆ bakugou katsuki. when people hear that name, they say he’s rough, brusque and edgy, a double sided sword. on the other hand, you find him sweet and loving, quite adorable even if he denies it.
☆ you often think a lot about how he would treat your kids in the near future and despite his tough exterior, he’s grown fond of kids.
☆ social media thinks that he's going to be the worst dad to exist if you have kids, you think they’re delusional.
☆ but the moment you realize you know he’s the one for your non-existent kids is when you’re both out on patrol and you find a lost kid. “leave him to me” katsuki grumbles. “go get yer injury healed”
☆ you do as told, conversing with one of the medics, and in the corner of your eye, you spot the child laughing with your husband.
☆ butterflies dance about in your stomach, fluttering vigorously. “he’s going to be a great dad, [hero name].“ the medic says. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, almost like you held the earth up for him.”
☆ you softly thank her with a smile, beaming with rays of sunshine as you approach your boyfriend. secretly watching him play with the young boy.
☆ “I see you’re both having a great time” you say. katsuki whips his head in surprise, coughing into his fist as if to hide his blush. “has dynamight been nice to you, sweetie?”
☆ the kid jumps up and down in glee, bobbing his head. “mister dynamight is the best! he even gave me a lollipop! but mommy can’t know or she might get upset”
☆ he sheers away in embarrassment. “thought it might cheer him up or somet’ing” you press your lips against his cheek, praising him for his work when the kid pretends to gag. you both chuckle.
☆ “aoi!” a woman calls out and the boy goes running to his mother, “oh my god, I can’t thank you enough.” you smile at her and tell her it’s your job as heroes, waving back to aoi as they leave.
☆ “having a kid doesn’t sound so bad. I wouldn’t mind waking up to our baby in your arms. It’s adorable and sexy.”
☆ he pauses. freezing in place. did he hear you right? our baby. him being a dad? sexy? fuck. you were definitely going to be the death of him.
☆ “[hero name]!” he calls out. you wink at him, skipping off to the agency. “baby! you can’t just say that and leave me like this!” he groans. having a hard on in the middle of work was going to be difficult to explain.
☆ the next morning, you saw the media, snorting at the headline. PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN SMILING WITH A KID. COULD WE POSSIBLY BE SEEING POTENTIAL FATHER MATERIAL?
☆ you yelp in surprise, dropping your phone on the side of the bed at the sudden touch of your boyfriend. “c’mere” he rasps. “why the fuck are you up s’early? it’s only 8am, go back t’sleep”
☆ “wanted to check the time is all. do you need something?” you ask.
☆ he shakes his head and lays you atop of him, grinding against your ass as a grin paints his lips, canines showing. “only thing I need is to fill you up to the brim and pump you full of my cum.”
☆ “katsuki! It’s only 8am!” you repeat his words. they fall deaf on his ears.
☆ next thing you know, you’re holding a test in your hand, double lines are present as a smug katsuki smirks at you. what a little shit.
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dodiebeeps · 5 months
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You jump to your hands when the fire alarm blares through your ears, waking you from a dead sleep. Nearly toppling off the bed, you leap out of your sheets, rush into your slippers, and glare at the flashing fire alarm in your room. 
Whether there’s an actual fire or not, you have to be out of the dorm and outside as quickly as possible according to protocol. You grab the keys to your dorm before hurrying out in no more than your pajamas. The hallway is filled with the bleary eyes and confused murmurings of the other girls, jostled from sleep just as violently as you were. 
Having not fully blinked the sleep out of your eyes, you bump into Mina, the girl only responding with a ruffled grunt. 
“Ah, sorry Mina.” Your voice cracks, vocal cords getting used to working once again. If this was any other situation, you’d be bashing yourself internally. Now, you can’t find it within yourself to care. “This damn alarm is so loud.”
And it is. You can hardly hear yourself think, covering an ear in an attempt to block out some of the sounds. You swear the sound still bounces about in the cavity of your head. Mina grabs onto your arm, finally having gained enough lucidity to reply as you both make your way down the stairs.
“I swear I’m going to murder whoever set the fire alarms off.” 
“I’ll help, gladly.” You crack a small smile, only to shiver as you both step outside and feel the rush of cold air blow past. Immediately, goosebumps rise in defiance on your skin. You find it to be both a relief and an annoyance that you’re away from the piercing sound, only to get shuffled out into the cold.
You and Mina huddle into each other as your classmates shamble out of the building, eyes half-lidded and mouths gaping in yawns, definitely not at a speed fast enough to avoid being incinerated by a fire. However, when you glance back at the dorms, no visible fire is present. You have a feeling Aizawa will get onto you all for your lack of hurry. Jirou finds you both, a blanket wrapped around her figure.
“Freakin’ lucky,” Mina mutters, leaving your side to wrap around Jirou like she could be absorbed into the warmth the blanket must provide. You glare at the betrayal, leaving you to provide your own body heat, but she only rolls her eyes playfully. “I wish I’d thought of that.” 
Jirou groans at Mina’s sudden weight on her, but doesn’t push her off. “I was already awake, and I figured it’d be chilly.” 
As Jirou speaks, you look up at the sky. Your perception of time is skewed, considering you didn’t bring anything with you but the clothes on your body and your slippers. It seems to be early morning, the sky a light navy, but still bright enough to take in the backyard area around Heights Alliance. A few feet behind your sleepy friends, you see Kirishima and Kaminari looking about nervously as they watch the final few of your classmates file out of the building. 
Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if they had something to do with the fire alarm going off. However, you’re too tired to deal with that crap. About to join back into the girls’ conversation, you don’t notice the figure coming up behind you until it hits you square in the back. 
“Alright you motherfu—” You turn around, fueled by a sudden bolt of rage, only to cut yourself off at the sight of Bakugou Katsuki staring back at you. His hair is messy, presumably for the same reasons you are. The black collar of a shirt peeks out from under a puffy blanket, the red, white, and blue of All Might’s signature colors. His crimson irises show signs of intrigue and amusement muddled beneath drowsiness. Bakugou happens to be very pretty, even handsome—
“You wanna finish that sentence, brat?” Bakugou snarkily grins, cocking his head in a way that makes you want to pummel him. 
—but he’s also the bane of your existence. 
“Can’t hear well, grandpa?” You smirk, only for it to be wiped off just as quickly when Bakugou takes a step forward. You’re suddenly reminded of the height difference and the very unfortunate fact that he also happens to be aware of your very tiny crush on him. 
Neither of you has acted upon it yet, but you’ll take whatever dynamic this is over him ignoring you completely. 
Bakugou’s eyes dart over you, catching something you’re not aware of, before he’s distracted by the holler of Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero. Barking at them to shut up, the blonde focuses back on you.
“Fuckin’ Dunce Head and Shitty Hair set off the fire alarm.” He mutters, adjusting his blanket over himself. Like Jirou, you can’t help but envy him. “Damn idiots.”
“I figured,” you reply, rubbing your arms up and down your arms as a biting gust of wind passes by. Bakugou doesn’t miss the movement, smiling softly.
“Now you’re cold, aren’t ya brat?” 
“I’m not,” You snap defensively. Now if only your body would echo the sentiment and stop shivering. “It’s barely even cold out here.” 
Focusing intently on the lights still on in Heights Alliance, you beg in your subconscious that Aizawa and the other teachers clear the building of the fire, whether it's actually there or not. Bakugou doesn’t seem to have the same interest, as you swear you can still feel his gaze settled on you. 
After a minute of silence, Bakugou clicks his tongue as your shivering continues. “Tch…Fuckin’ baby. C’mere.” 
You yelp as Bakugou’s blanket-clad form engulfs you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders as the other adjusts the cotton over you both. The blonde pulls you into his chest, and your heart flares, cheeks pulsing with heat as you take in the new position. 
“W-wha—” Frozen like a deer in headlights, you stammer uselessly when you feel Bakugou’s chest against your back, undeniably warm. 
“Shut up, soundin’ like damn Deku.” You feel a weight on your shoulder, and you can only glance at Bakugou in your peripheral before your eyes flit away again. It’s so hot, and you’re sure it’s not the blanket working this fast. “Unless…you’re nervous, aren’t ya?” The mirth in his voice has your blood boiling. 
It takes an embarrassing few seconds to get the words out clearly, and you hate that you can already feel the smirk likely crawling onto his lips. “I’m not. You just surprised me, so don’t let it get to your oversized head.”
Bakugou laughs, taking the insult in stride. It’s contrary to his normal behavior, as he’s too occupied with your reaction to care. “Real cute that you’re still tryin’ to be defensive,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath sending a different kind of tingle down your spine. 
This can’t be real. It can’t. Bakugou wasn’t doing shit like this as a first-year, who the hell taught him this? 
Nonetheless, you can’t deny the fluttering in your chest. And you guess you’re no longer cold. 
You huff out a breath much too fast, trying to gather your nerves as you squeak out, “So, does this mean you like me back or—”
Before you can finish, the all-clear from Aizawa rings out, and the relieved sighs of your classmates follow as they make their way back to the building. Kaminari and Kirishima give sheepish apologies amidst the glares of their peers, but you can’t focus on it for long since Bakugou lifts his head from your shoulder to lead you forward.
You don’t think an answer is coming until Bakugou murmurs in that familiar gruff voice of his, “Yeah.” His gaze turns to you, expression daring you to tease him for it. “I do.” 
A sly grin stretches across your face as you snuggle into the blanket, a little closer to him. He’s definitely in for it now.  
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joonipertree · 5 months
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To show someone that you care, is a gift itself. | Sugar Daddy Bakugo Series
Where you show Katsuki what a gift can be.
Tags: Artist!reader, very self indulgent, like guys....please buy me watercolour paper instead of Versace. Watercolour paper is stupid expensive. Im also not skilled enough to actually make the gift so--
Pt 1 Pt 3
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Katsuki's birthday had been looming when the two of you started going out, like a weighted shadow. You had spent a very long stressing about what to get him with a budget that wasn't even worth a fraction of what he would buy you.
But, like gift giving was Katsuki's, it was your love language as well. And you'd gotten good at getting heart felt things for people. Admittedly, it took a lot of brainstorming and notes upon notes of what to get.
You'd always go overboard to please the people you cared about, afraid that they'll leave if you didn't cross the limits and bend over backwards for them.
Katsuki had always taken care of you, never asked for anything and your love was returned albeit in a quieter and tsundere manner. So the urge to go above and beyond didn't fester for long, knowing that your bare presence made him warmer.
Your gift idea came when he was on the ring, swift on his feet and solid in the rigidness of his body. You'd brought your sketchbook and while you wanted to keep your eyes on your boyfriend, your hands became busy with large curves and sharp flicks of your pencil that brought dark edges .
You'd made at least 20 quick gestures drawings that were more crude representations of movement for you. But with those and the feelings you trapped in your heart, you made thumbnails and chose one to draw large scale.
One where Katsuki's face was partially blocked by his arm and he gave a blow. His elbows were jagged, muscles taut and rippling. And his eyes sharp and cat like.
The charcoal pencils and sticks used to create tapered lines to create hard surfaces was 340 yen. The watercolour pallete used had messy paint splattered everywhere and its lid broken, having been with you for a good while. The coat over the charcoal was 50 yen hair spray that worked just as well as professional sprays.
It didn't cost a lot but your hands were full of care and by the end of it, you hoped that it'd be something Katsuki would at least like. The man could have the world but all you had was you.
You didn't realize that you were more than enough
Katsuki to lost his voice when you handed it to him at midnight, eyes wide as he stared at him but not him. The layers on layers of paint held emotions that he could only describe as love, meticulously hand picked and felt in strokes. He'd seen HD pictures of his fights, seen videos of them where his sweat and pores were as clear as day. The most he'd thought of them were how his form could improve or how cool he looked.
But what you made, it twisted something in his chest and stung his eyes and filled him to the brim with love so warm and overwhelming that his body wasn't big enough to hold it.
You two had been dating for 4 months, Katsuki had spent that time falling in love with you in ways he didn't think possible. He'd fall with every giggle and kiss and ramble and your face when you were concentrating. He'd never said 'I love you', hoping his actions showed it enough, still too scared to speak it in case it was met with hesitance or silence.
But Katsuki had gently put down the canvas, something you that you'd built, stretched and primed yourself. And while you made eye contact with the walls and ceiling, you explained how the only thing you could come up with was the painting, that you wanted to capture the emotions you felt when you saw him fight. That it wasn't much but---
Katsuki had engulfed you in a hug, hand on the back of your head to press it against him and an arm around your waist. He squeezed you, tried to express all that he was feeling with one hug alone. You felt it, held him tightly and carded your fingers through his hair. With his shoulders shaking, you had an inkling that he had been crying. When he spoke, with a wobbly voice, you were sure that he was.
"I love you." He'd muttered out for the first time.
"I love you more." You whispered back and Katsuki had firmly denied it, that no one could love a person as much as he loved you.
Getting a gift for you became hard after that, because Katsuki sucked at making shit.
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moominsuki · 1 year
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telling katsuki you’ve never had a g-spot orgasm before and suddenly you’re back is pressed to his chest as you’re both sat in front of your bedroom mirror and he’s stroking the inside of you walls, making it his mission to make you cream all over his fingers
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gardenofnoah · 6 months
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@moonbuuns enabled me. blame bunny
the thick arm that shoots out to stop your ascent up the stairs nearly winds you. not necessarily out of character, but weird nonetheless.
“baby?” you search his face for an answer and find nothing—katsuki hovers in front of you almost completely devoid of any expression, which is out of character. his eyebrows furrow, almost like he’s confused. it would almost be comical if it wasn’t so strange.
“why do you smell like that?”
you scrunch your face at him. “smell like what?”
“like,” sniff, “that.”
you scoff, moving to shove past him. “you really know how to charm ‘em, Kat—”
you don’t even make it the full step before you’re pinned flat to the nearest wall. Katsuki’s on you like a second skin, nosing where your blood pumps wildly through your jugular.
“Katsuki—what the fuck are you doing—”
“y’r drivin’ me fuckin’ insane—” his voice is strained from behind you and comes out in a pant against your bare shoulder—and just when did he unbutton your work shirt— “y’smell so fuckin’ good—”
your laugh comes out a little breathless when the muscular thigh he has slotted slotted between your own gets closer, moves up a little bit. “i shouldn’t, i went to the gym over lunch—”
the man behind you lets out a groan that you feel under your skin—his teeth graze the shell of your ear and the last of the tension leaves you, replacing itself with tv static that fizzles up every nerve ending.
“my sweat has you like this?” you ask incredulously, peering at him over your shoulder. he only grins, a little dark when he leans forward to nip at the curve of your jaw.
“fuckin’ course it does,” he presses his smirk below your ear and does little to hide the giant inhale of breath he takes there, “i like you gross. take your pants off.”
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hajiberry · 1 year
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VOICE-MEMOS THEY SEND WHEN THEYRE DRUNK
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Kirishima- “baaaaaaabe, hiii I’m out and well I mean I’m not really out anymore I’m on my way home. In an Uber cause no drunk driving duhhhhhh but actually I’m not even drunk so I actually could’ve driven but somebody I won’t name names was being a bit of an asshat and wouldn’t let me drive. But oh my god I love yousomuch like you know I love my guys but god I miss you every time I go out. And yes I know I’ll see you when I get home but your gonna be sleeping and I’m gonna be sad but honestly might wake you up because I wanna kiss you. Okaaay pulling up to to the cribbb noww BYYE”
Deku- “okay let me start by saying I’m only slightly under the influence right now. Like honestly barely, I didn’t even drink that much but sometimes I feel like because I never had a college experience to build my tolerance up I’m still a lightweight at 24 but anyways I’m on the way home and I keep thinking about how much I love you and I miss you so much and oh my god I don’t know what I’d do if we ever broke up. Not that I want that to ever happen but like oh my god how could I even function? I’d probably drop from number 1 to like in the hundreds 'cause I’d be that useless without you.” *starts crying and the rest of the audio message is him crying*
Todoroki - “y/n, I’m currently in midoriyas car because he’s driving me home because I accidentally drank too much at the after-party for the award show. I’m so sad you couldn’t come, like I know the anniversary party for your parents is really important that’s why I’m flying out tomorrow to be there for it. Shit, that was a secret. I hope you don’t listen to this because then you’ll know I’m on a plane coming to see you in like 3 hours. Honestly don’t know how I’m going to function hungover on an airplane but I think I’ll manage, I mean it’s not like it’s a commercial flight so I should be good. Damn it well I was originally going to say I love and miss you. Which still stands but I’m gonna go now because I think I’m going to throw up” “TODOROKI NOT IN MY CAR PLEASE”
Bakugou- “fuck. I’m so drunk right now and I hate even admitting that but that’s how shit-faced I am right now that I can even admit that I’m drunk. This is why I should never go out with my idiot friends, they make me drink and then I end up talking about you and that’s so beyond embarrassing. Not that you’re embarrassing I just don’t need them to know my business like that. Kirishimas driving me home right now which I feel like speaks volumes about my lack of good judgment right now. I don’t even know what the point of this message is I just wanted to say you’re one of the most tolerable person I’ve ever met and I really fucking love you. Okay bye this idiots smiling at what I’m saying and it’s creeping me out.
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touyangel · 1 year
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Thinking about newboyfriend!bakugou who doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants.
You’re standing at the counter chopping up veggies for dinner, and you feel him brush up behind you, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, hands softly resting on the tops of your hips.
“Making your favorite.” You whisper.
“Mm.”
Not satisfied by his response, you turn your head to look at where he rests against you. His eyes are shut and crinkled in the corners. You press a lingering kiss to his cheek, which feels much too hot under your lips.
“Are you okay? You feel hot.”
“M’fine.”
Putting the knife down, you’ve turned into him now, and you can tell he doesn’t want to look at you by the way he buries his face into your neck, “Katsuki, what’s wrong?”
“I just-“ His voice is higher than normal, muffled by your skin, “You look, really good, and I- I don’t want you to cook. Anymore.”
“…You don’t want dinner?”
“No, I fuckin’-“ He pushes away from you, eyes wild, cheeks red, and you’re worried you’ve upset him- misunderstood him-
“Come to fuckin’ bed with me.”
Oh.
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wonderthor · 7 months
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just a quick thot about husband!bakugo…
you were upstairs when you heard your husband open the door and stomp into the house, not saying a word. must have been one of those days, you thought. you ran downstairs and into the living room, seeing him laying down on the couch with his arm draped over his forehead.
“hey honey! how was your day?”
he sighed and huffed. “great. now take your panties off and come over here.”
it would have caught you off guard, but you were used to his random horny moods.
“what?”
he cut his eyes at you as he spoke this time. “panties off. get over here.”
too bad.
you scoffed. “yeah right. you know i have to go to my sister’s birthday dinner tonight. so i guess you’ll just have to wait and get into my panties later, how about that?”
he sat up and stared directly at you now, his eyebrows furrowed in challenge. “did you just tell me no? you know who you’re talkin to, right? don’t make me come fuckin get you.”
you stared at each other for a couple of seconds until you ultimately made the decision. ok, we’ll see about that.
you turned and ran the other way, running faster when you heard him get up and storm after you. you ran a lap around the kitchen and juked him, making him think you were gonna run back through the living room and instead running up the stairs. you were laughing until you heard him full on sprinting after you, adrenaline taking full affect.
once you were upstairs, you ran down the hallway and into the bathroom. he ran straight towards you but right as he tried to get through the door, you slammed it shut on him. he didn’t have time to stop and hit his head right into the door.
“ow fuck! my fuckin head!”
you instantly felt worried and opened the door, seeing him down on his knees, bent over and holding his head in his hands.
“oh my gosh honey, are you okay? i’m so sorry! does it hurt bad?”, you said as you bent down to inspect him.
“what do you think? you slammed a door into my fuckin head, of course it fuckin hurts!”
you rubbed his head as you tried to pull his head up so you could see his face. he resisted and kept his head down. you felt immensely horrible, kissing the top of his head to try to make him feel at least a little better.
“i’m sorry baby, i really am okay? but you gotta let me see. look at me and let me see your- ACK!!!”
you were caught off guard as you were suddenly lifted up in the air. just that quick, he had stood up and threw you over his shoulder in the same movement. you instinctively held on to his shoulders.
“wh-what are you doing? put me down katsuki!”
he ignored you as he walked you towards the bedroom, pulling down your shorts and your panties in one motion and throwing them on the hallway floor.
“dumbass”
now he was the one laughing.
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bfbkg · 7 months
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AKIN TO HEARTBREAK (3.2K)
BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER
synopsis: how can you say you don't need him when he so wretchedly needs you?
warnings: flreader, nsfw, minors dni, established relationship, miscommunication, yn doesnt 'need' bkg, make-up sex, handjob, fingering (f), cunnilingus, dramatic bkg, doggy style, fluffy&intimate, emotional bkg, needy bkg, what more do i tag lol
a/n: for you, saint @saintokkotsu !! thank you for being so lovely to me. based off that one lyric in i drink wine by adele!
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what bakugou feels right now is akin to heartbreak. his heart is broken, raw and missing every other beat. instead of crying over whatever is left of his heart, the feelings have morphed into silent rage, especially at the fact you’re sitting beside him in his car unaware of it all.
he’s not sure if he’s being dramatic, he did only hear less than half of the conversation you were having with your coworker but it’s enough to feel as if his head is being dunked underwater repeatedly with no time to breathe for air.
you’re confused and unsure, as shown by your finger tapping on your knee instead of grabbing his hand like you usually do. your boyfriend looks like a bubbling pot beside you about to spill over.
“did you have a bad day at work?” 
your voice makes him wince, memories of how it sounded just this morning, joyful and loving, embarrassing him.��
“yeah,” it’s a lie, it sounds burnt on his tongue.
“ah,” you nod in a show of understanding but really, nothing has changed. 
in your year of knowing bakugou, half of that time being in a relationship with him, you’ve never quite seen him like this. jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, fingers so tight on his steering wheel you think it’s close to snapping. it’s not the explosive anger you see the news reporters talk about or you hear stories of his friends telling. rather, it’s stone cold brewing. you think this anger is reserved for you.
“did i do something?” you whisper.
you sound hurt and that makes bakugou ache.
he doesn’t know how to reply to you and luckily, he’s just pulled up outside of his apartment so he can starve it off for longer. he doesn’t even know why he still wants to be in your presence but he desperately does. this is his love, still aflame during his anger.
he parks and presses a button so his car engine shuts down. with no rumble of the engine, you’re both sitting in quiet. you make no turn to move as bakugou opens his car door.
“katsuki, i am not coming out until you tell me what’s wrong. there’s no point in me coming inside if you’re not talking to me.”
bakugou freezes. you say the words to his back, measuring how all the muscles are tense beneath his long sleeve black t-shirt. he huffs, then groans aloud before roughly wiping his face.
“i heard what you said earlier.”
“to who?”
“your fuckin’ coworker, that guy.”
he was leaning outside your work building, waiting for you to come out.
“your sugar daddy’s waiting for you outside, huh?”
bakugou’s never liked that guy, he always seemed slimy and hopelessly in love with you. you just called it his ‘boyfriend brain’ whenever he spoke about it.
you snort, “he is not my sugar daddy.”
“doesn’t he practically buy you everything? new bag, new shoes? why’re you even working?”
bakugou knows your tones like your facial expressions. you’re disgusted when you reply, “how is this any of your business? i don’t use my boyfriend for money. i don’t even need him.”
that’s all bakugou heard before a needle popped his heart and blood began to spill over his shoes.
if you don’t need him, why are you with him? what is your relationship built on if there’s nothing you need from him? all his other ones need him. his presence to save, his strength, his knowledge. his parents have always needed him to keep their relationship strong, his agency is built on their need for him to stay alive. everyone needs something from him. how can you say you don’t when he so wretchedly needs you? 
he retreats into his car seat, slamming the door shut. silence swallows you both.
you want to question why he was even listening to your conversation but it’s pointless anyway. you’re not sure which part of your conversation would deserve this reaction.
“how much did you hear? what was wrong with what i said?”
the first time he properly looks at you today comes with an annoyed, nasty frown.
“you said you didn’t fuckin’ need me.”
now you frown.
“i said i didn’t need you, yes.”
a tether of his temper snaps, “so why the fuck are we together?”
“don’t talk to me like that,” you snap.
silence. both of you watch a man across the street walking his dog.
“we’re together because i love you but i don’t need you. if something happens and you leave, i’ll still be here. alive.” you watch his face for a reaction but he’s still looking ahead. “and he was talking about your money. i work for my own.” 
bakugou realises he’s never admitted to himself the things he needs. he doesn’t ever need people the same way people need him. minus perhaps other heroes for certain missions. though this premature heartbreak he’s been feeling, a rush from zero to a hundred, makes him think.
“i need you. without you, i’d be nothing.”
you shake your head softly and bakugou turns to look at you. you take his hand and it’s warm.
“that’s not true, gorgeous. you’d still be bakugou katsuki. you’d still be dynamight.”
“i don’t want any of that if it’s not with you.” you kiss his knuckles. 
“katsuki. baby,” you take a deep breath, “i think you’re used to people relying on you all the time. your family, the country, the world. i want you to know i want you for you. i don’t want anything from you. i don’t need you for your money or your strength. you make me better and happy by being you. there’s nothing more i ask for.”
bakugou feels his heart mending itself, stitching each tear and slowly beating back to normal. perhaps this is what he’s always needed to hear. you don’t need him. you don’t want anything from him, just him.
bakugou sniffs, meeting your eyes. your hand comes to cradle his cheek and he presses your forehead together.
“fuck, i’m sorry. i should probably go back to therapy, right?” he chuckles breathily, his eyes glossy though no tears fall.
his breath is hot on your face and you begin to smile at the feeling of his nose brushing against yours. he’s beautiful with his fluffy dark eyelashes and shiny ruby eyes.
“probably, but we can sort that out later.” you press a kiss to his mouth, then another but this time he holds the back of your head to keep you close to him. he inhales like it’s the first time he’s kissed you in years.
once you pull away, you mumble against his lips, “let’s go inside now. i’m starving.”
when you’ve both finished eating, dressed snuggled in your pyjamas, you notice that your boyfriend is oddly embarrassed about his outburst earlier. you never see him embarrassed, perhaps a couple of times at the beginning of your relationship when he’d stutter accidentally or he tried to open the door for you and it smacked him in the forehead. but since then, never. you want your boyfriend back.
you decide to bombard him when he’s hand washing the dishes instead of using the dishwasher beside him.
you lean on the kitchen island with your elbows, chin resting on your palms.
“gorgeous?”
he can always sense you, knows where you are. stupid hero tingles.
bakugou turns his head to look over you, “baby.”

“i miss you.”
“i’m right here.”
“no, you’re still caught up about what happened earlier.”
he rolls his head back to look at his soapy hands, “‘m not.”
you sigh softly, padding across the floor in your fluffy socks. you circle your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed against his back. here you were connected, heartbeats simmering to one.
“i love you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss through his t-shirt.
you can’t see his hands from this angle but you can hear the water sloshing about as he cleans the plates.
“yeah. i love you too. i think too much.”
you gasp jokingly, laying your palms flat on his toned chest, “you say it like it’s a bad thing!”
he shakes his head, “it’s not. just that it felt like you stabbed me earlier and now i’m in fuckin’ recovery.”
“oh baby,” you coo. you never realised how deep the roots of his need for people to need him really were. you brush the tips of your fingers against his dick, hidden away in his shorts. your touch is only light, hovering, and you feel his abs tense. “will this make you feel better?”
bakugou’s laugh is strained, humming at the feeling of you pressed against his back. “yeah, it fuckin’ will.”
you take the yes with glee, slowly pulling down his shorts and boxers in one go. his hands are still in the soapy water, squeezing the life out of a sponge when you bring your palm to your face to spit on and then cradle his length.
you don’t say a word when you flick your wrist over him. it’s not too fast, not too slow. a comfortable pace for him to slowly harden in your hand. you indulge in the feeling of knowing him so well, without even seeing his face. 
how his breath switches to breathy grunts, his fingers becoming pale white from clenching the sink. you can barely look around him to see but you can tell from only the sight of his neck that he’s looking down, mesmerised by your hand.
you’re warm and treat him with skill. you look after him, is all bakugou thinks. he can just relax, worries of before slipping off his shoulders and he focuses on the burning desire building. 
“oh fuck,” he spills, hips bucking involuntarily into your palm. you bite down on your lip, the feeling of him getting heavier, slick with his own pre.
“there’s nobody i want more than you,” 
“shit,” 
you pick up the pace, moving your wrist how you’ve seen him move on himself. you match his hip thrusts and bakugou feels his vision blur. he clenches his eyes shut, biceps thick and bulging.
a slick, wet, pat pat pat, fills the air. you feel all the muscles in his body tense, his head flinging back as finally, he lets go. his hot release covers your fingers and you keep pumping till it’s all out.
“motherfucker. oh fuck, you feel good. this is so… urgh,” he groans and you let him, even rubbing his stomach soothingly.
his come drips to the floor and unsurprisingly, you’re turned on by the sight. making him come while not even seeing what you’re doing.
once he’s all done, catching his breath and wiping his forehead, you push.
“are you still too busy moping away to sort me out?”
“watch your mouth,” he snaps.
you think he’s back. you grin.
after wiping your hand with a paper towel, bakugou pulls up his shorts and picks you up in one swoop, swinging you over his shoulder.
“katsuki!” two large wet hand imprints are at your waist. 
he’s on a mission stomping through his home into his bedroom, “i’m gonna do more than just sort you out, baby.”
bakugou throws you back onto his bed and you get to see his face. the sadistic grin you love to see, the desire for you swimming in his ruby pupils. he yanks you by the legs so your pelvis is at the edge of the bed.
“if all this shit didn’t happen today, i would have already made you come by now. i’m gonna have to catch up.”
you don’t know what beast you’ve created until it’s too late.
your lover pulls down your shorts and lifts your oversized t-shirt so your lower half is exposed to him.
“and i was thinkin’ this was it between us. it’s never gonna be it between us.”
“you’re so dramatic.”
“are you sure you wanna be sayin’ that right now?”
you rest up on your forearms, well aware he can see the wetness between your legs. it’s your favourite sight having him there, hands like paws spreading your thighs wider. he only blows on your centre, over your clit and your body tenses at the rush of air.
you flop down onto your back, pleasure shooting up your spine, “oh shit. no, no, i take it back.”
he smirks, “yeah i thought so.”
bakugou is tender with you, prodding you with his tongue like you would a sleeping animal with a stick. though he knows what gets you moving, he just wants to draw it out.
he swipes his tongue from bottom to top, not paying too much attention to your clit which is exactly where you want him. you mewl, hips jumping to try and push him in the right direction. he just holds you down and continues.
his wet tongue circles your hole, around and around and you’re just about to beg him until he thrusts his tongue inside. your moan is loud, exactly what bakugou wanted.
“she tastes so fuckin’ good, baby.” he pulls his tongue out to see you pulsing around nothing. “fuck.”
you’re whimpering, heat blossoming throughout your body, “more ‘suki.”
bakugou slides his palm onto your stomach, his other lifting your thigh. “patience baby.”
finally, his soft lips suction around your clit. he sucks, drawing out the sweetest, honey dripping moans from you. it feels electric, body twitching and it only increases when he slides two fingers into you without warning.
you grip a clump of his hair, holding him to you restlessly. 
“oh my… baby,” you whine, and you feel the vibrations of his chuckle muffled between your legs.
his tongue is swift, practised. he curls his fingers, brushing against your favourite spot and that’s enough for you to be on the edge of bursting.
then he stops, and you find two hands on your waist flipping you over onto your stomach.
“katsuki, what?! i was almost there!” you whine but your boyfriend only lightly slaps your bare ass to silence you.
“wanna feel you come ‘round my cock. wouldn’t you too?” his voice deep with control as you lay your cheek on the mattress to watch him pull his t-shirt off his body in one sweep.
you hum at the sight of his toned chest, the scars, marks and beauty spots. he wastes no time finding your ass again, two hands on each ass cheek. he roughly massages with his thumbs and you can’t help but rumble a moan, trying not to arch in the air.
“yeah, i do,” he leans over with one knee beside you and kisses your cheek, “want you ‘suki.”
“i’ll look after you, pretty.”
bakugou yanks off his joggers, one hand guiding his cock through your ass cheeks. back and forth and your moans come out like a melody in unison. he’s thick, veiny and he’s fixated on how his head pops out at every thrust. 
“could fuckin’ come like this, baby,” he grunts, leaning over your body. kisses are pressed along your shoulders and back like raindrops.
it feels good, so good but not enough. “no, don’t,” you reach for his arm behind you and bakugou meets your pleading eyes. “inside, baby.”
how could he say no to you when it’s so natural to say yes? “okay, okay. fuck, i’d do anythin’ for you.”
he grips your thigh to position you for him, guiding his cock through your folds. your breath hitches when he hovers by where you need him the most. need. right now, your craving is turning into a need.
“n-need you so bad, come on,”
and he usually would have poked you for your tone but instead, your lover grins. alive and full of energy. slowly, he pushes into you, immediately feeling you tense around him. together, he grunts while you whimper.
“oh ‘suki,”
“i know baby, i know.”
you’re made for him, he fits tight and perfect and he knows if there’s a heaven on earth, it’s between your legs. 
“why do you f-feel bigger?” you rock against him, your ass hitting his chest.
bakugou’s laugh comes out rough, holding your hips, “‘m gonna move, yeah?”
you hum back and he begins to thrust. he tries to be controlled to take his time but it all gets too much so quickly. the messiness of it all, your slick soaking his cock desperately, creating loud wet slaps in the air. you’re both lost in each other, you reaching up on your forearms to fuck back into him, you’re not sure who’s moaning more.
“fuck,” you screech and bakugou feels like he’s close to passing out.
“come, baby. you feel perfect, squeezing the shit outta me,”
he doesn’t even need to touch your clit before you’re shaking on him, stuffing your face in the mattress for some grounding, your fingers clenched.
“holy… fuck, ‘suki,” you mewl, “i love you.”
his orgasm rocks through him before he can take hold of it, spurting inside you. his hips keep going and instead of flinging his head back, he leans forward over you, stuffing his head in your neck. his thrusts jolt your whole body on the bed and it’s only when he’s all spent, he stops, murmuring a tired, “i l-love you too, pretty.”
it’s a few moments of trying to come back to earth together, bakugou flipping you onto your back to lay kisses over your hip bone and stomach. your hand brushes through his hair relaxingly.
when he stops, you look down at him to find him already staring at you. you move your hand to cup his cheek. his eyes are half lidded, sleepy, lips shiny and although you say you don’t need him like one would need food or water, maybe you crave him like one would a hot meal. like one would happiness and peace of mind.
“you know i love you, right?” you breathe and his eyes widen.
bakugou nods, rubbing against your palm like a puppy. he really looks anything but with his stubbled jaw and scar across his eyebrow but he’s still stupidly sweet.
“course i do. i get what you meant before, don’t worry,” he sniffs, pretty eyes looking over you. he grips your wrist tightly, kissing the palm that held his cheek, “i love you too, pretty girl.”
bakugou crawls up to you on his forearms, stopping until his face is before yours. “i’d die if you left me though.”
his face is serious, stone cold until his smile drops and you slap his arm. “katsuki! don’t say that,” he stuffs his head in your neck, his chuckle tickling.
“i’m not lyin’ though.”
you circle your arms around his neck, holding him to you tightly, “but you shouldn’t…”
“yeah, yeah, i know. if you ever wanna leave me i won’t actually. i’ll just think about it till one day i wake up and don’t.”
“you’re really not helping and i don’t wanna leave you any time soon. unless you’re still planning on being dramatic.”
“nah, i’m finished. i love you a normal amount.”
you roll your eyes playfully and he pinches your side, pulling you into a fit of giggles.
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archonsabyss · 7 months
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╰─..✶. [ My Love Mark ]
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❒ pairing: (aged-up) bakugou x fem!reader
❒ genre: fluff! smut nsfw [mdni]!
❒ warnings: swearing! hickeys! katsuki accidentally leaves a burn imprint on your hip? idk if that's how it works or whtv but yeh
❒ wc: 1.5k
─❒ authors note: inspired [reel]. too lazy to read over it again to check for mistakes. WRITING IS SELF INDULGENT isn't it🤭
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Bundled sheets are crinkled between his rough and scarred fingers. His grip is tight and unrelenting as the pleasure builds to new heights from the persistent snapping of his hips and the way you tighten around him. Katsuki's ragged breathing and drunken words of assertion whisper seductively into your ear as he forces your body to keep up with him; as he demands you stay with him as he loses himself.
"Slow down... Ka-Katsuki" You plead through whimpering stutters.
"No" He'd snap back almost immediately, raising his head to glance at your face that twists and contorts in minor discomfort hidden beneath the face of pleasure with every small movement he makes, and he's so beyond enamoured by the way your brows furrow when your diluted pupils' peak at him through lidded eyes before rolling back as he rubs himself back and forth against you. His eyes soften at the sight of your responsive reaction, and the sweat accumulates on your face as you give yourself to him despite exhaustion.
In a split second, Katsuki's brought down to earth and he's shoving his cock deep inside you, settling firmly pressed up against your heaving chest as you fall numb against the mattress, encaged between his flexed arms and the warmth radiating from your entangled limbs.
"No" He repeats softer than the first time, his thumb brushing circles on your flustered cheeks. "Don't want to"
"Just need a sec- Kats" You reassure weakly, taking advantage of the steady pace he sets just to talk to you. "Just a sec"
"Fine" He huffs, "But 'm not pulling out"
You murmured a frail, 'okay', allowing your eyes to fall shut and your hands to slip from his hair and fall to the bed. Bakugou does not approve but he figures he can give you a second or two.
As you're recuperating, Bakugou's anxious and can't find it in himself to be completely still so he resorts to fidgeting with the sheets, only it doesn't do much as his restlessness continues to grow at an agitatingly fast rate. His tongue swipes across his teeth in a consecutive back-and-forth motion, clinking now and then as he looks for something to occupy his fidgetiness.
"Wanna move" He says and it hasn't even been two minutes.
"Can't keep up with you" You chuckled, looping your arms around his neck.
"Don't care" But his actions say otherwise as he does not attempt to move without your consent. Alas, he sighs and resorts to burying his face deeply in the crook of your neck where his lips press to your heated skin.
His hair lay in disarray at the top of his head with a few loose strands sticking to his forehead, and your hand finds comfort between the unruly locks attempting to salvage the mess.
"Yeah, fuck you make me crazy" He exhaled deeply with a glare burning into your neck. He's unable to comprehend the way you're making him feel and all you're doing is brushing your hands through his hair.
"S not fucking fair" He curses, smothering your neck and throat and shoulders with wet kisses and long-striding swipes of his tongue until it grows sensitive beneath his determination.
Katsuki shifts, starting up a slow but consistent pace with his cock burying between your walls, a replenished moan erupts from your throat and it deafens him; forcing him into a blinded state of bliss that he barely realizes the flickering of sparks beneath his hand and the way his nails dig deep into your hip, not even when you screech his name out between what he derives as a sultry moan and an aching groan. So far into his delusions that he doesn't acknowledge the way your hand grips his biceps for relief or the way your body curves upward against him, trying to wriggle out of his grip which only forces him deeper than he has ever been before.
With each breath that tugs from his lungs, Katsuki loses control.
A cloud of disbelief fogs his mind as he tries to understand how something he's done so many times before can only get better; can only feel so entirely new like it's the very first time you've been this intimate when the experience of his and your actions denote otherwise.
He swears incoherently into your ear until you utter his name between sobs, the safe word you've only used once before making its way out of your swollen lips.
Bakugou stops.
"Fuck" He mutters in panic, hooded eyes widening as his brows pinched into a frown.
"Sorry baby" He's apologizing wholeheartedly, cock twitching in desperate need of continuation but against his desires he pulls out, dragging a heavy breath from your chest as he does. His hands find their place on your cheeks and he's doing a quick once over your body, eyes landing on the reddened area where his hands before cupping your cheeks are imprinted on a bright shade of red.
"Fuck"
"Said that already" You chuckled, tears falling down your cheeks. "M'kay" You assured and you meant it. "Was a little shocked is all"
"Fuck..." He gruffly mutters at himself while brushing his thumb over the tender and sensitive skin causing you to flinch. "I'm gonna get ice"
As he says this, he's already pushing himself off you against your will and rushing to grab an ice pack stored in the freezer.
"Come back here, Katsuki" He hears you calling him just as he re-enters the room. The sound of his name pleading from your lips as you instantly miss his warmth and company exhilarates the organ pumping blood throughout his body.
The frown usually creasing his forehead is relieved and gone, and in place of it is an untroubled expression of relief and calmness.
There's an unwavering flicker of his tenderness and affection for you in the way his eyes trail across your naked body, his careful touch contrasting the aching of your joints and the pulsing of your pussy.
Katsuki's knees dig into the mattress when he gets onto the bed and you feel the weight dipping in its favour. The sight of his hovering figure above you then returns for a split second, all the time needed for him to press a kiss to your lips, your forehead, and lastly the area beneath your earlobe before his pulling away and placing the ice on the swelling pain on your side.
When the ice meets the fiery burn, you can't help the relieved sigh that escapes. And it arises a smudge of guilt in Katsuki that you're quick to assure, your hands placed on his shoulder and dragged up to his neck. "Lay with me"
He's tempted to refuse but how can he when it's what you both want. He glances at his hand that keeps the pack in place, "It's fine Kats, lay on your side next to me"
When it's just the two of you, Katsuki lets his guard down and is often quiet. He rarely speaks but somewhere between the lines he fills the silence. Everything that leaves your lips reaches his ears and pierces his thick skull and during those times, he reminded you of a puppy in a sense of loyalty, affection, and obedience. Katsuki is settled in the confinement of your home and thus he feels it a safe space to let the lovesick side of him show further and naturally, he allows it to take dominance.
His expression had never been softer. His touch had never been more careful. And the way he settles himself on top of you so mindful of your pain, he doesn't lay beside you and remains above you just more to the left away from where his lust took over and left its mark, regretfully stopping him from receiving end. Katsuki buries his head into the crook of your neck and latches his lips onto it like a starved man, tongue licking and flicking back and forth, teeth nipping, the wet sloppy noise of his actions echoing in your ears and drawing fast and heavy breathes from your chest again.
The night was far from over, but for now, he'd let you take a few minutes─ an hour to rest while he busied himself with dressing you in his marks. There were so many other things he could do for the time to pass and you didn't stop him as it began.
Pants draw from your chest as you comb your fingers through his dishevelled hair and linger them down his spine. This pulls a satisfied moan from Katsuki who embraces the gesture; the feeling of your nails scratching up and down his back as your chest rises and presses firmly against his chest before it falls and repeats. His hand adjusts the ice but he doesn't pull away, so content with the moment despite the little accident and not reaching his end. But he's certain if you keep this up, he'll cum in no time, and then he supposes he can give you maybe another hour to rest.
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☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
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1K notes · View notes
mechamedusa · 1 year
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☆ THE ACCIDENT - BAKUGOU x FEM!READER
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“You said you want to work off the debt,” he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice reduced to a breathy growl, “I can think of some work for that bratty little mouth.”
☆ SYNOPSIS | You hit pro hero Dynamight’s car and can’t afford to take care of it. He gets an idea for how you can work off the damages — but you gotta do it right here, right now.
☆ WORD COUNT | 6.5k
☆ RATING | nsfw +18, minors & ageless blogs dni!
☆ CONTAINS | dark content, (extremely) dubcon, noncon elements, blackmail, degradation, humiliation, breath play, lots of spit play, oral (bkg receiving), rough facefucking, public / voyeurism kinda, nonconsensual photo, fantasizing, use of degrading names (bitch, whore, slut), bkg is an overall asshole + physically intimidates reader
☆ A.N. | this is extremely self-indulgent lol — and also my first time posting a fic, kinda nervous ! i have plans for this to become a series ~ hope you enjoy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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You would never admit it out loud, but you tended to be a distracted driver. After a long day of work, it was easy to slip into the comfort of your own mind as you sped down the mostly empty highway. Your fantasies kept you company on the drive, the haze of daydreaming like a plush blanket for your tired mind. It was nice — it made the drive go by faster, but it meant you probably weren’t as attentive of a driver as you should be.
That’s why, as you’re making the commute home through the back roads like you always do, you don’t notice the army green sports car barreling towards you from behind in the next lane over. Engrossed in whatever fanfiction situation you’re cooking up in your mind, you start to merge into the right lane, anticipating an upcoming turn. You glance at your rear view mirror as you do, not bothering to look over your right shoulder or put your signal on — you hadn’t noticed any other cars on the road with you for miles anyways. Except there was another car on the road with you and it was going way over the speed limit, racing into your blind spot before you can get a glimpse of it.
It all happened in a split second — you couldn’t even register exactly what had happened. The piercing sound of tires screeching and metal scraping fills your ears, then you’re gripping your steering wheel, desperately trying to keep control of your car as it veers off of the road and into uneven dirt. You press your foot on the brake instinctively, your steering wheel jerking in your grip as your car lurches over the dirt then finally comes to a harsh stop that makes your body hurl forward from the momentum.
You pant, your heart fluttering in your chest and the high of adrenaline keeping you from forming a coherent thought. Your eyes dart down to your body and your hands finally come off of the steering wheel — you had been gripping it so hard it hurt — so you can pat yourself, looking for any sign of injury. No pain, no blood — you sigh, relief setting in. You realize your airbag hadn’t deployed, so you reach up and pull down the visor above you, flipping open the mirror and inspecting yourself in case you’d injured your face when you’d lurched forward. All seems fine — except for the man you finally notice in your mirror stomping up to your car.
You quickly put your car in park, unbuckle your seatbelt and jump out. The man is already yelling, arms gesturing wildly as he rounds the driver’s side of your car.
“—fuckin’ IDIOT, what are ya fuckin’ BLIND?! Don’t know how to use your damn signal, or are ya just STUPID?!”
You put your hands up in surrender as the man continues his ascent, “I-I’m sorry,” you squeak, “I didn’t see you—“
“No shit sweetheart, ya didn’t even fuckin’ look!!”
He’s in your face now, your back pressed against the side of your car as he towers over you. You’re not exactly a tiny person — you’re pretty average sized, actually — this guy is just huge. The sleeves of his black t-shirt strain against his bulging muscles as he points sharply behind your car. “Look at what you did to my car,” he growls, his face inches from yours as you flinch away from him.
You turn your gaze towards where he’s pointing and finally see it — an expensive looking dark green sports car with bright orange racing stripes decorating its side. It’s parked slightly perpendicular to the road, the front of it angled downward, having been driven into a ditch. The driver’s side door is still ajar from when the man had thrown it open, and music blares over the car speakers — angry rock music that’s all rolling drums, gravelly guitar rifts, and deep guttural vocals. This car looks luxurious next to your weathered Honda Civic, all suited up and shiny — except, of course, for the gnarly scratch all along the driver’s side. You wince at the sight, and the man in front of you laughs, but there’s no humor in it.
“Yeah, see that shit? I should wring your little fuckin’ neck!”
You look back at him, the adrenaline rush kicking in again. This man has some audacity. You stare him defiantly in his crimson eyes, straightening up with new-found courage. Cowering under an asshole man was not like you, after all.
“What the fuck is your problem?! The ‘roids really hittin’ today or what?”
“You little —“
“You need to fucking relax dude. And back the fuck up off me!” You emphasize the end of your sentence with a shove, planting both palms on his firm chest and pushing as hard as you can. All your strength barely moves him, but his eyes widen for a split second in shock and he takes a small step back.
You’re able to get a good look at him now that he’s given you some distance. His ash blonde hair is unruly and dense, sticking up at odd angles. His facial features are angular and cat-like with high cheek bones and an intensely sharp jawline. He is very muscular, his shirt pulled so taught against his chest that you can see the definition of his pecs. His biceps have to be about the size of your head and his forearms are thick, tattoos covering his left arm down to the elbow, protruding veins running down to his clenched fists where silver rings decorate his fingers.
Your eyes travel lower. He’s wearing gray joggers that hang low on his hips, and even though they’re slightly loose you can still tell how muscular his legs are underneath. He moves to adjust his sweats, and down his right pant leg a faint outline bobs against the fabric.
You snap your eyes back up to his face and are met with an infuriating smirk. His red eyes look down at you, still filled with fiery rage — and something else you can’t quite place.
And that’s when you recognize him.
“You’re Dynamight.”
His resolve cracks, his smirk turning down into a grimace.
“You’re fucking Dynamight,” you continue with your own smirk now spreading across your face, “Mr. golden boy pro hero Dynamight! Holy shit — I wonder how the commission would feel about you threatening a civilian. I wonder how the internet would feel about you threatening a woman!”
“Look, lady —“
“No, fuck you! I’m sorry I hit your fuckin’ car, but you have no right —“
“Yeah, you hit my car,” he barks at you, rage taking over once again, “so don’t get all fuckin’ high and mighty with me! D’you know how much that custom paint job is gonna cost to fix?!”
Your face falls and he sneers, lip curling up to reveal a sharp canine as he continues berating you.
“You wouldn’t fuckin’ know with your shitty little beater! So I suggest you shut your fuckin’ mouth and get me your insurance and ID, now! And don’t make me ask twice.”
You’re biting the inside of your cheek now, taking in just how royally fucked you are. Your insurance payments are already almost more than you can afford, an incident like this was sure to really screw up your finances. You could try to leverage exposing him and putting in a complaint with the commission again to get him to let it go but, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew it wouldn’t really be that much leverage. You knew about Dynamight — how he was notorious for being a huge dick, to say the least. He must already have a phone book full of complaints, and yet he was still one of the top pros in the nation. The commission clearly didn’t care enough to properly discipline him, and no matter how many videos of him cursing out civilians surfaced on Twitter, his merch still always sold out in minutes. The man was damn near untouchable.
“Well?” he says gruffly, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I’m waiting.”
“I…” you trail off, looking down at the floor as you deflate, “would rather not get insurance involved. Can we settle this between us? I’ll pay for the damages out of pocket?”
Dynamight laughs that unhumorous laugh again. “Oh yeah? Gonna pull ten racks out of your ass to fix that custom paint job? That orange color was formulated especially for me — they call it Dynamight Fuel Orange. Costs a pretty fuckin’ penny. You got that kinda money lyin’ around?”
You’re looking at him now, eyes wide, and he’s crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk. That stupid fucking smirk, it makes your blood boil — but you have to negotiate with him, try to be nice about it. Maybe he’ll take pity on you.
“Look, Dynamight, sir…” you say softly, noticing his eyes darken a bit at the moniker, “you’re right, I don’t have that kind of money. But I also can’t afford to have my insurance go up right now….”
He snorts, not faltering as he starts to pull his phone out. “Not my problem, sweetheart. If you don’t wanna give me your information, I’ll just call the cops —“
“Please, no!” You’re invading his space before you realize what you’re doing, putting your hand on Dynamight’s forearm to stop him from fishing his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. He looks at you wide eyed, surprised by the intrusion, but doesn’t pull away from you. You stay there like that, your small hand gripping his taught forearm as you crane your neck to look up at him. “Please, Dynamight. There has to be something else I can do. I can work off the debt somehow…”
Bakugou looks you over as you prattle on, listing ways in which you might be able to exchange free work for his mercy. Your boldness has surprised him twice now — how fearlessly you had yelled at and pushed him earlier, and now, how easy it was for you to get in his space and grab him. You were a fiery little thing and your insolence infuriates him, but it also makes him a bit curious about you.
He takes in your face — the way your eyes look at him with such conviction, darting around when you’re trying to gather your thoughts, then looking up into his eyes again without fear. He watches your tongue dart out to wet your plump lips, the way you take your lower lip between your teeth when you’re trying to choose the right words. He notices the slight blush on your cheeks, whether it was from your closeness or the summer heat he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t noticed before, completely blinded by his own anger and adrenaline, but you are… honestly cute.
He looks down further, taking in the slope of your neck and the way your collarbones are only partially visible, disappearing under your shirt. Where he’s standing, he has a perfect view down your v-neck top. Your breasts are sitting pretty, skin glistening from the light sheen of sweat that’s developed, protruding then receding slightly as you take quick breaths. He can see your bra from this angle, the way it hugs your chest and hides away more than he wants it to. Your bra is black, lacy.
He wonders if your panties match.
Something you’re saying grabs his attention, making him turn his gaze back to your face.
“I’m a teacher. That’s why I can’t afford —”
Bakugou snorts, “They let you teach kids dressed like that?”
You look down at yourself, confused. What was so offensive about your v-neck and jeans? “Yeah? It’s Friday, we’re allowed to dress casually on —“
“Your tits are practically fallin’ out of that shirt,” he says, his lips curling up into a smug smile as your head snaps back up, mouth agape. You finally let go of his arm, moving your hand to cover your chest.
“Y’know what, fuck you,” you’re turning back towards your car now, fuming again, “I don’t need your misogynistic bullshit. You can just have my insur—“
Bakugou grabs your wrist suddenly, pulling you along as he stomps back towards the front end of his car, which is still sitting in a ditch. You claw at his grasp, stumbling along behind him. “Let me go, asshole!” you screech, unable to shake his vice-like grip. He pulls you down into the ditch with him, then reels on you, a crazed look in his eyes that makes your breath hitch in your throat.
“Looks like my front bumper’s dented too,” the blonde says, voice low and gruff. Your eyes dart over to his bumper — but there is no dent. “W-where? I don’t see a —“
Without letting go of your wrist, Bakugou turns, brings his knee up high towards his chest, then launches his foot down onto the shiny front bumper of his own car. The metal crunches under the force, leaving behind a brand new dent as his foot returns to the dirt floor.
“See it now?”
His expression is different from the anger you’d seen earlier — it’s completely unhinged and it’s scaring you now. The wild look in his eyes paired with the menacing grin spread across his face is making your skin crawl. You shrink under his gaze, trying again to pull from his too-tight hold on your wrist.
The way you’re trembling and pulling away has Bakugou stiffening. The pure unadulterated fear he can see in your eyes as they widen, replacing the defiant gaze you had had just moments ago — it was absolutely delicious. He was just going to let insurance handle this little mishap, but you just had to be a brat, thinking you could stand up to him. Now he was going to put you in your place, and Gods know he was going to enjoy it.
“Looks like the bill just went up, sweetheart,” he spits the pet name, like it tastes bad in his mouth. “Your insurance ain’t gonna like that. Do you even have a plan that will cover this much?”
You’re stammering now, eyes welling up with tears as you try to push his hand off of your wrist. He’s gripping you so hard you’re certain his fingertips will leave bruises in your skin, his hold temporarily immortalized on your body. He pulls your wrist into his chest, and you’re forced to step forward into him. You’re so close now that you can feel the heat coming off of his firm body, you can smell the musky-sweet scent wafting from his skin — his face so close that you can see the gold specs littering his crimson irises, his breath fanning across your face.
“You said you want to work off the debt,” he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice reduced to a breathy growl, “I can think of some work for that bratty little mouth.”
With that, Bakugou’s grip snaps from your wrist to the back of your hand and he pulls it down towards his crotch, closing his hand over yours and forcing you to grab onto his half-hard cock through his sweats.
A sound of protest starts to leave you but gets caught in your throat when you feel it — the action so swift and so bold that your brain can’t fully process. You look down at where your hands are joined, as if to check if this is really happening, then back up at the red eyes that are boring into your own. Dynamight’s pupils are blown out, dark voids starting to overtake the crimson, and a fiendish smile plays on his lips. The look in his eyes is wild, hard, cocky — you realize he’s fully enjoying this display of power and he’s daring you to defy him. Something about him leering over you, making you feel like nothing more than prey to this well-trained predator, has you… completely turned on.
He’s moving your hands around slightly now, pushing and rubbing at his dick through the cotton fabric. You can feel it starting to stiffen, growing in your hand. It’s not even fully hard yet and you can tell that it’s big — bigger than you’ve ever had. You know you should pull away, scream at him, jump in your car and take off, but you just can’t. You’re frozen there, entranced by the feeling of him growing in your palm and completely hypnotized by the sadistic gleam in his feline eyes. Your body is starting to heat up, your face flushing, a familiar tension growing between your thighs that makes your head fuzzy.
“Well?” Comes Dynamight’s gruff voice, ripping you from your thoughts. “I ain’t got all day. Want me to let the damages go or not?”
Your voice comes out small, weak. “H-here? Right here?” Your eyes dart around at the road, half expecting to see cars lined up on the side of the road, a crowd forming silently to watch you defile yourself for this asshole. But there’s nobody, no cars as far as your eyes can see.
Bakugou grunts in response. “Did I stutter? Get on your knees.”
You know you shouldn’t do this. This road was usually pretty desolate, yes, but there was still the occasional car or semi-truck that blew through. Who’s to say they wouldn’t see? Who’s to say they wouldn’t slow down and snap a picture? Somehow the thought, as mortifying as it was, had a knot forming deep in your core — was it humiliation you felt, or arousal? Or was it the dizzying combination of both?
You don’t protest, your mind swimming with desire and the possibility of getting out of this situation scott-free. You just lower yourself, eyes on his as your knees come to rest on the hard ground. Dynamight snickers — there’s nothing he loves more than winning. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he breathes, “What are ya waitin’ for? Pull my dick out.”
His harshness is a spell and you are fully enchanted — if he told you to throw yourself into traffic in that voice, with that look in his eyes, you might just do it.
You mutter an “alright, asshole”, but move to follow his orders anyways. You hook your fingers into the stretchy waistband of his joggers and pull down, his half-hard cock bouncing up at you with new found freedom — he isn’t wearing boxers. His dick is so pretty (because of course it is), sitting long and weighty between his shredded legs. The white shaft has faint blue veins running along it, the light pink head smooth and shiny in the sunlight. He’s well groomed, his balls hairless and taught against his body, the dark blonde curls above his shaft trimmed and trailing up delicately to disappear under the hem of his shirt.
“Ya ever sucked a dick before?” comes the snide voice above you, “Gotta do more than just look at it, princess.”
You glare up at him, snatching his dick up in your right hand and giving it a sharp tug. He lets out a small groan, stepping forward a bit involuntarily. His cock is now right in your face, so close you can smell his musk and see a bead of pre cum leaking from his tip. He’s hardening quickly in your hands — he must have enjoyed the mean treatment, that bit of pain. You smirk to yourself.
You stroke him a few times, feeling the smooth skin in your hand, and look up at him through thick eyelashes — he still has the same hard expression on his face, but he’s watching you intently, taking in how small your hands look around his cock. You stick your tongue out and lean forward, giving his tip an experimental lick, tasting the saltiness of his precum as you swirl your tongue around the head.
He’s fully hard now, standing at attention right in your face, so big in your hands that you can’t fully wrap your fingers around it — and it’s curved slightly upwards. You can’t help but imagine how well that curve would hit your g-spot as he’s fucking you deep, his palms pressed against the back of your thighs as he pushes you open wide. You’re aching between your thighs now, and your face flushes as if he can somehow tell — the battle between wanting to hate this asshole pro hero and wanting him to fuck you senseless is raging in your mind.
You pull his dick upwards so you can press your tongue to the underside, giving his shaft a long, wet lick from the base to the tip. Once you get to the tip, you angle it back down and take him into your mouth in one swift motion. He lets out a groan, brows furrowing slightly as he watches his dick disappear between your lips. “There you go — ah fuck — knew you were a slut,” his voice rumbles low in his belly as you begin bobbing your head back and forth at a steady pace, massaging him with your tongue and slurping shamelessly. You’d sucked a dick before in your day, you knew that if you set a good pace and made it sloppy that it would be over with quicker, easier. If only you’d known that Katsuki Bakugou would not be the type to make anything easier for you.
A strong hand on your head makes you stop and peer up at its owner. The giant man leers over you, his hulking form blocking out the sun as he casts a shadow down on you, and his domineering presence somehow feels stronger now, more menacing. He’s smirking down at you, eyes blown and dark — filled with something you can only describe as predatory. The hand on your head grips your hair, pulling back so his cock pops out of your mouth and your neck strains backwards. His other hand finds your exposed neck, wrapping around it possessively.
“Open that little whore mouth.”
His voice is low, quiet, but you hear him loud and clear. You oblige, eyes wide, and feel the hand on your throat move to grip your cheeks. He leans over you, eyes on your tongue, and purses his lips. You’re too entranced by how pretty he looks leaned over you like this, blonde hair falling forward around his face, eyelids low, plump lips pressed together. Before you can even register what he’s doing, Bakugou spits into your mouth, a long string of clear liquid falling from his lips onto your tongue.
You gasp and the man above you laughs, gripping your hair hard in his hand and pulling it back down then swiftly shoving his dick back into your spit-filled mouth before you have time to react. He ruts into your face hard and fast, holding your hair tightly so you can’t pull away. The head of his dick bullies the back of your throat, his length moving in and out of your mouth with each relentless buck of his hips.
He’s panting and grunting with each thrust, filth falling from his lips as he begins letting his primal urges take over. “God yeah — fuckin’ whore — lettin’ me use your mouth like this — fuck — just keep that bratty mouth open —“
You don’t know if it’s his words or the way he’s using you so roughly, but you can feel your whole body heating up from the fire that is burning deep inside you. Your pussy feels painfully untouched and slick between your legs. You can feel it clenching around nothing as this handsome hero degrades you — bullies you in the most hypnotic way. You want to know how he’d bully your insides.
The way he’s abusing your throat is causing it to produce an uncomfortable amount of thick saliva. You gurgle around him, spit bubbles forming at the corners of your mouth and overflowing so your drool is dripping slowly down your chin and onto your chest. It feels like you’re starting to drown yourself, more and more thick spit pooling in your mouth and the back of your throat as he shoves into it ruthlessly.
As if he can hear your thoughts, Bakugou pulls himself out of your mouth and puts his hand palm up in front of your face, just below your chin. “Spit,” he commands. You look up at him confused, and he cocks an eyebrow, giving his hand a small shake. Finally understanding, you collect the saliva pooling in your mouth and reluctantly spit it into his open palm. A wicked grin spreads across his face and, with his other hand wrapped tightly in your hair to keep you from pulling away, he roughly rubs his spit-covered hand all over your face. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, surprised by the feeling of the thick fluid being rubbed over your mouth, cheeks, forehead, eyes — you know your makeup must be smearing around as it mixes with your spit.
Bakugou chuckles darkly, squeezing your jaw between his thumb and forefinger and moving it around so he can take in his handiwork — your skin glistening with spit and black makeup smeared around your eyes, your cute little face ruined. He’s drunk off of your destruction. He wants to ruin you more, reduce you to a sloppy mess and make you lose every ounce of that infuriating attitude and dignity until you’re nothing more than a used up whore. Nothing made his dick harder than being the one to destroy a pretty little bitch with an attitude — a pretty little bitch like you.
He finally wipes your eyes with his dry thumb and you blink, peering up at him through wet lashes.
“You look so much prettier like this.”
He straightens back up and tangles a hand back in your hair, gripping his dick in his other hand and rubbing it over your ruined, slippery face. The action feels so nasty — so degrading — and yet you’re panting below him, feeling your arousal radiating at your center. You just know that if you stuck your hand down into your panties that you would be completely soaked — and you’re almost tempted to, the need to feel friction between your legs getting stronger as the sensation of Dynamight’s weighty cock dragging along your face taunts you.
He can see you squeezing your thighs together, the way lust makes your eyes glaze over, and he snickers. “This turnin’ you on? Nasty bitch.” He grabs the base of his thick cock in his hand and brings it down on your cheek with a wet thwap thwap thwap.
“Open.”
You obey, and he shoves his length back down your throat in one swift motion, holding your head down, your lips pressed against wet blonde curls, until you’re gagging around him. You try to pull away, pressing your palms to his thighs and pushing, but he’s so much stronger than you.
“Stay there,” he grunts, “Ya wanna pay me back right? ‘m takin’ your breath as payment.”
You still, finding your body automatically going along with his sadistic little game. It was like your brain was hard-wired to want to please him — or maybe the mix of arousal and oxygen deprivation swirling around in your head was making you more pliable. You hold yourself there as long as you can, his cock filling your throat so full that he’s blocking your airways completely. You furrow your brows, trying your best to hold your breath and keep your throat from rejecting him, but you’re not able to hold him there for long before you’re choking around him and trying to pull away again.
He lets you, pulling your head back with his hands, and you take in a deep, raspy breath. As quickly as he’s gone, he’s back again, the familiar feeling of rigid, wet skin against your tongue returning as the blonde slides himself back down your throat. He fills your mouth up easily, his tip pushing past something hard in your throat until he’s blocking your airways again.
He bottoms out in your throat again with a groan. “Take it — fuck — take it all,” he moans as he wraps his hands up in your hair and starts moving your head back and forth against him shallowly. You’re gurgling around him, making lewd, wet sounds involuntarily as he uses your head like his own personal toy.
The panicked feeling from being deprived of air for too long returns and you slap his thigh twice, to which he groans and pulls your head off of him again. You’re gasping, sputtering, coughing, saliva covering your face, dripping down your chin and neck, globs of it rolling down the slopes of your breasts.
Wet sounds fill the air as Dynamight strokes his cock in your face, so much spit covering it that it’s gathering in his hand and dripping onto the dirt floor in fat globs. With his free hand he lifts his shirt up, ducking his head down slightly to bring the front of it over until the fabric is resting behind his neck, half removed so the sleeves are still wrapped around his brawny arms. Your eyes rake up his body, appreciating the way his abs tighten as he pleasures himself, the light sheen of sweat that makes his pecs glisten, the way his strong arm flexes with each stroke of his hand.
He was the closest thing to a God you had ever witnessed, and you were so captivated that you were ready to lay all of yourself at his feet.
You stick your tongue out and press it to his tip as he jerks himself off, looking up at him innocently to let him know you’re ready for more. He growls at your expression, how much of a mess you are covered in spit, makeup ruined, hair askew, and his slick cock jerking over your desperate face. The hand that isn’t pumping is brought up to your face, cupping your wet cheek as Bakugou looks down at you intently. He hasn’t even properly touched you and you look like this. He runs his thumb over your tongue, which is dripping spit onto your heaving chest, then pushes it in further, prodding at your mouth and pulling at your cheek. You swirl your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan is pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of his own slick hand, your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. “Mmm messy fuckin’ slut…”
He thinks this is the best you’ll ever look, and he wants to see you look like this all the time — no, he wants to see you look even more used up. He wants to be your undoing.
“I might just have to keep you…”
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a pop and leans down as he strokes himself, his lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss. Slippery lips, spit, teeth — his tongue explores your mouth in the same way he does everything: unabashed, feverish, domineering. Even his mouth is a bully, tongue strong, teeth nipping at your lower lip. You respond with a fire of your own, sucking his lower lip into your mouth harshly and biting down hard enough to draw blood. He growls and pulls away, but instead of anger on his face there’s a sly smile, his mouth and chin slick with saliva. His eyes are glowing as he straightens back up, bringing his pulsating dick back to your face.
Bakugou puts his hands on either side of your head, easily encasing it, and lines himself back up with your lips. With a low moan, he’s pushing himself back into your mouth. You take him willingly, tongue out, eyes trained up on him, and you moan around him, appreciating the way his girth fills your mouth up and makes your jaw ache.
He ruts into your throat, wet sounds filling your ears as he fucks into your face fast and hard. Your throat is burning, jaw sore, your chin wet from his balls smacking into it over and over. You focus on breathing through your nose when you can as he continues his assault on your throat. He’s groaning, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, fingers splayed out on the sides of your head as he loses himself in your warm, wet mouth.
You can’t look up at him now, too focused on trying not to drown in spit and dick, but if you could you’d see how beautiful he looks like this — his eyebrows furrowed and his pretty lips open slightly as he lets pleasure overcome him, his cheeks slightly flushed from the physical exertion. He doesn’t look angry or annoyed like this — he looks angelic, euphoric, like he’s in the most beautiful pain.
You know it before he tells you, the way his pace becomes erratic and his hands grip your head a little too hard — he’s nearing his end. He’s panting and grunting and babbling over you, his balls tightening as he quickens his thrusts even more. “Shit — so fuckin’ good — filthy fuckin’ bitch — ah yeah — yer such a mess for me — you like that shit huh — ugh gonna blow my load all over your face — bet you’d love that shit huh slut?” You moan your agreement, but the sound is lost around his cock, coming out as more of a high-pitched gurgle. He chuckles, but it turns into a long, low groan when you bring one of your hands up to massage his spit-soaked balls.
“Ngh-nasty bitch…” He moans, voice losing its edge as you work your hand over him, coaxing his orgasm out. And then he falls apart — head thrown back, brows stitched together, face flushed, sweat beading on his forehead and chest. With a flex of his abdomen and a final push into your throat, he’s cumming. Hard. You feel him pulse in your throat, feel heat on your tongue, taste bitter saltiness — then you feel hot, wet ropes falling over your face, one after another. He’s practically whining as he squeezes his spasming dick, releasing rope after rope of white-hot cum all over your already ruined face. His hand is wrapped up in your hair, keeping you in place for him as he comes down, squeezing the last bit of spunk out of his softening dick and letting it fall onto your outstretched tongue with an unceremonious flick of his wrist.
Even though it wasn’t your orgasm that had just happened, you’re completely high, eyes glazed over and panting, tongue still stuck out and absolutely covered in spit and cum. Your mind is so hazy and your cunt is aching something fierce, you simply can’t focus. Bakugou laughs as he’s pulling his sweats up.
“God, look at you.”
You’re coming back down to earth just in time to see a phone in your face — Dynamight snaps a picture of you as he laughs.
You’re suddenly painfully aware of how you look and where you are, the arousal that had previously had an otherworldly grip on your consciousness finally dissipating. You swallow and it burns the back of your throat, the smell of cum filling your nose. You feel slimy, your throat aches, your knees hurt. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He grins at you, leaning down until you’re practically nose-to-nose. “I said I’d let the damages go. Not that I’d let you off the hook. Now I have this —“ He turns his phone around, the screen lighting up with the picture of your ruined face. “— to keep you on my leash. And it’s a tight one, sweetheart.”
With that, he turns on his heel and starts walking towards the road, his thumb tapping on his phone. “Better get out of here before the tow shows up. Unless you want the driver to see what a whore you are.”
After taking a particularly long shower and pouring yourself a hefty glass of wine, you finally settle into your couch. You’re trying to shake away the shame that’s beginning to snake it’s way into your mind. How could you let a man — especially a man as fucking douchey as pro hero Dynamight — bring you to your knees like that? You’ve now realized that there was no way he hadn’t been driving way over the speed limit (how did he sneak up into your blind spot like that?) so the accident most likely wasn’t completely your fault. That means that you probably would have shared mutual blame and you would have been off the hook anyways… right?
The accident aside, your stomach is twisting just thinking about how depraved you had been. You let that man use you in every sense of the word and it made you feel dirty. But what was making you feel even more dirty was the fact that your mind was completely fixated on him, even now, and the feeling in your stomach was definitely something more than just disgust. The image of him hunched over you, sweaty and panting, with a cocky smirk on his face every time your eyes met — the sound of his grunting, the way he cursed at you and let the filthiest, meanest things you’ve ever heard just fall from his lips like it was nothing — the smell of his musk, sweet with a hint of spice, engulfing you more and more as he worked up a sweat — all of these things are like heroin to you; You hate yourself for it, but you want more.
Your body heat is rising again as the images of him flash through your mind. That sickeningly sweet twisting of your gut that radiates all the way up your body until it settles in your neck and face — maybe you were just sexually frustrated, needed a release and then he’d fade from your mind. You start to fish in your bedside table drawer for your vibrator as you pull your phone out for something other than him to get you going, but freeze when you notice an unread message on your lock screen. It’s from an unsaved number. You slide your thumb up on the screen, tap in your passcode, and click the familiar green icon. The message is sitting right at the top, waiting for you, taunting you. The text in the message preview makes your heart drop: Attachment: 1 image. You hold your breath and click — and it feels like your insides have dropped fully out of your body and onto the floor.
Looking back at you in the message thread is you — well, a version of you. You barely recognize yourself, your eyes glazed over, unfocused, and your mouth wide open, tongue stuck out in a heinously lewd expression. Your eye makeup is smeared and your features are obscured by the slick all over your face — spit — and the globs of white that are mixed in, covering your cheeks, your lips, sitting on your tongue, reaching all the way up to your forehead and in your hairline. Can this fucked out, messy, cum-covered person really be you? You know it is, because the memory of it is making your cunt ache.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch the dreaded 3 dots pop up below the photo — the person on the other end is typing. You wait for what feels like hours before the dots disappear and are quickly replaced with a new message:
“Better answer when I call, princess.”
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