[11:25am]

Sound It Out

bakugou x barista!fem!reader

masterlist

wc: 631

cw: fluff, short

Bakugou makes his daily trip to the nearest coffee shop, but today there is a new barista, who just can’t get his name right.

Bakugou starts to head down to his favorite coffee spot after his morning workout, and when he finally reaches the doors and exhausted sigh leaves his lips. He heads up to the counter ready to say his daily order only to find that when he looks up, it’s someone new. Her hair covering her eyes a bit as it drapes over her shoulder while she writes. He grunts a bit to grab her attention and when she looks up at him with shining e/c eyes, he almost chokes on his spit.

“What can I get you?” You say with a wide smile on your face, I mean it wasn’t all that often that you saw someone as attractive as him.

“Tall black coffee, hot. Please,” He utters the last part quieter than the rest.

“Sure thing! Can I get a name for the order?” You look up at him expectantly, waiting for his response.

“Katsuki.” He says before he pays for the drink watching you write on the cup. You feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re making his drink, not daring to look back at him. Walking back over to the counter you hand him the cup before wishing him a nice day, to which he just nods.

As Bakugou takes the first sip of the coffee he is taken aback, for a newbie you sure knew your shit. While the coffee was still to his lips he glances down at the cup, eyeing your handwriting. It was neat but there was one thing wrong, you had spelled his name wrong. Looking at it more clearly to confirm his suspicion, there it was “katski” His eyes were blown wide looking distastefully at the styrofoam container. How could you have gotten it wrong, it was so easy, he had nothing but good thoughts about you, until now that is. But deciding that everyone makes mistakes, Bakugou forgives you. Just this once.

Just this once turned into everyday for the next two weeks. You had come to look forward to his daily visits, standing at the counter awaiting the tall, built, blonde. Bakugou still hasn’t corrected you on his name, in fact he’s come to find it endearing, kind of like a nickname no one else calls him. So when he waltzes in one day, workout tee clinging to his muscles, you can’t help but stare. He notices your wandering eyes and continues to stride up to you.

“The usual.” Bakugou says leaning on the counter closer to you, so close you can practically smell him, even when sweaty he still smells sweet.

“On it,” You say barely above a whisper. Once you’d finished making it you go to write his name on the cup. Watching your hand write he speaks, “You know,” You stop halfway to look up at him, “ You’ve been spelling it wrong,” Your eyes widen as your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“O-oh i’m sorry,” You mutter looking down at your shoes.

“It’s not that hard y’know, ya could sound it out, it’s so easy,” amusement lingered in his eyes as he teases you. “Gimme your hand.” He demands while you set the drink down and give him your hand. “Pen too, c’mon” He beckons you to give him the writing utensil with impatience.

“Kat-su-ki, see how simple it is,” he glances down at your name tag before finishing, “Y/n” You nod up at him and he continues writing. Whipping your head down in confusion and see a jumble of numbers following his name.

“Feel free to call me if you forget how to spell it again, or,” he pauses to look you in the eye, “if you just wanna have dinner or something.” Bakugou leaves you with a smirk and your jaw on the floor, but not before closing the hand he wrote in and bidding you farewell. Your co-workers watch in shock and you just continue to watch him walk away.

I love everything you write for katsuki!! You’re sooo talented and you write him so so good <3

This means so much to me because for the longest

time i just read stuff and i’ve always enjoyed writing but i figured that no one would want to read what i put out. So the only times i ever got to write was for school and i didn’t really have that much free reign there but i am so glad that a couple of months ago i decided to just do it. And it’s people like you that make me feel reassured in what i’m doing :))

Every tutoring session with boyfriend Bakugou in your rooms eventually turns into a heated make-out session to which he always puts a momentary stop to take off his glasses and toss them on the desk before he either pulls you to his lap or backs you onto the bed, not realizing just how crazy that little gesture drives you every time

Could you please well if you don't want to that's fine but could you make a bakugo x y/n 18+ y/n getin prego🤐 i sound so sus but idc

masterlist

Bkg x fem!reader

cw: breeding, unprotected sex, mdni

short & unedited. im sorry

request thirsts in my inbox :) 📬

“does it feel good sweet girl?” his words matching the sweet sensation of his thrusts. every one sending your head into a frenzy.

“Cmon baby tell your suki how good it feels.” hot hands running down your body covered in a layer of sweat. The pair of you have been at it for hours, ever since you visited kirishima’s new baby it’s all you could think about. As you walked through the front door Katsuki’s hands were on you in a second.

“S-so good, S-ugh yes right there!” his thrusts slow for a moment as bakugou watches your eyes glisten over with tears. He gives one slow deep push into that special spot “here? you like it right here pretty girl?” one more thrust.

“Uh huh please suki please faster!” you whimper as your hips thrust on their own beneath him. he picks up speed, relishing in the feeling of your tight cunt getting even tighter, and soon he becomes close himself.

“Please inside suki wan a baby! wan make you a daddy-oh!” one final push and he was a goner, spilling his hot seed in your gummy walls with a moan of your name.

“whatever my girl wants, she gets.”

tags 🏷: @trafalgar-lau @mybabekatsuki @loving-katsuki @ariavaana @melaniebakugo @keyz-writes @kuleo26 @sirensuki @theweasleysrule @asmaechan

go read rn😤 i’m not even just saying this cause my tumblr bestie wrote this. no. IT IS SO UGHHH EEEK!

this with bakugou omfg please 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Authors Note: OMG YES!! Thanks for being my first request <3I kind of extended it A LOT so theres a ton of build up before we get to the actual suggested part BUT I THINK ITS WORTH IT. Hope this is to your liking °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

|♡| Drowsy Bliss |♡|

Bakugo Katsuki x F!Reader

Description: Wanting to spoil your boyfriend Bakugo, you wake him up with one of the most pleasurable ways there was, leading to some very intense sex which he quickly gets impatient by. 

Rating: Smut

Disclaimer: Consensual!! Somnophilia, Sex, Nudity, Oral (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Riding, Squirting, tiny bit of Overstimulation, Established Relationship

Word Count: 2,279

 Links: Masterlist,  Ask Me Anything

|♡|—–|♡| 

Bakugo gasped slightly, knuckles turning white as he subconsciously balled his fists when the weeping head of his cock hit your lips. You giggled, even in his sleep he reacted to you. Just a few teasing kisses trailing up the side of his shaft, tongue tracing his veins in the process, was enough to cause breathy groans to escape his mouth. 

“Mmm, baby..” 

It was quiet, barely above a whisper but you still heard it letting you know that your boyfriend was just barely awake, enough for him to lift his hand and lazily trail his knuckles over your cheek in encouragement. He rarely called you sweet nicknames like baby, preferring playful insults, but the term of enduement truly showed how truly tired of it he was. 

“Ah, fuck..., feels so good baby,” he slurred, gasping when you gave a particularly hard suck to his glans. Bakugo continued to babble incoherently, talking about how good it feels and how you must have been so eager to put your mouth on him if you were willing to do it at this time of night despite you two often waking each other up like this. 

You were slow and careful, the complete opposite of what normally went down when you gave him head. But this wasn’t any normal round of sex, this time you felt a little more in control of your usually dominant boyfriend who was always quick to pin you down and show you whose boss. 

Soft fingers stroked the base of his dick to where your lips wrapped around the head, suckling gently and moving your tongue in circles around the slit. Bakugo was practically whimpering, moving his arm to cover his eyes as he leaned back and let you do all the work, falling in and out of consciousness as he felt the pure pleasure you gave him. Slowly, his hips began to rock in an attempt to get more attention from your soft, wet cavern. 

“What are you doing dummy?” He rasped, one red iris poking over his elbow to watch you. “Sucking my cock like that, shit..”

One of your hands reached to massage his swollen balls as the other continued to stroke him, playfully squeezing the base before massaging his spit-covered head that you had pulled away from. “Just wanted to make you feel good Katsu,” you mumbled, blowing softly on the tip causing his muscular thighs to flex. 

The look on your face pouted lips with a small smile and eyes filled with nothing but adoration has him groaning and lifting his hips, silently asking for you to put your mouth back on him. God, he fucking loved you. 

“Suck it,” he growled out, placing a heavy hand on the back of your head to push you down onto him. “Use your tongue, wrap those pretty lips around me.” There he was, albeit a bit more flexible with his tired state but still your demanding boyfriend. You hummed as his dick almost reached the back of your throat, telling him that’s as far as you wanted to go so you wouldn’t gag, but you made sure to pay extra attention to the neglected part that you couldn’t fit with your hand. 

Bakugo’s hips stuttered at the vibrations but continued to gently move in your mouth, not having the energy to fuck your throat like he normally does. He groaned, hands playing with your hair as he continued to dirty talk to you, every word uttered going straight to your sloppy pussy. 

“Couldn’t handle it all huh? Fuck, suck that cock, work your tongue too, baby. Ah shit. Fuckin’ sexy.” Bakugo tried his best to tense himself, not wanting to cum so soon but the way your hot mouth flicked and sucked every sensitive spot on his dick or how you tapped the pads of your fingers against his balls had him shaking. 

“Fuck! ‘m gonna cum baby, gonna cum so fucking hard.” 

You hummed once more and met his eyes with a loving stare, signaling you were ready for him to come undone in your mouth, bobbing your head faster to help him finish. You felt his dick twitch in your mouth as your boyfriend let out a final scream-like moan, hips raising to bring you as close as possible to him. 

“S-so good, so fucking good to me. Drivin’ me —mnngh! C-crazy,” Bakugo’s thighs twitched as he tried to calm down from his orgasm, which you made impossible with the sexy sight of you swallowing and licking his thick seed off your lips. 

You brought your face back down to his dick, leaving small kitten licks to clean off the remaining cum despite Bakugo’s protests about being sensitive. You even managed to leave a couple of hickeys and bite marks on the insides of his thighs. Once his breathing evened out and he calmed down, you quickly took one of his sensitive balls into your mouth catching him off guard. 

“Ohh shit! Stop, stop baby wait. Fuck!” He cried, bucking into your mouth despite his words. You let go with a wet loud pop, laughing as you saw his abs tense from the sudden stimulation. 

“Stupid,” he mutters under his breath, grabbing your arms to pull you towards him so he could reward you with a wet kiss. You two stayed there, cuddled up and basking in each other's presence for what seemed like forever. You honestly thought he had fallen asleep with how much the orgasm took out of him in addition to the ungodly hour you woke him up at. Your boyfriend always stuck to a very strict sleep schedule after all. “What’s the occasion huh? That’s one hell of a way to wake up just for nothing.” Bakugo moves to brush the hair out of your eyes, rubbing along your arm with the gentlest of touches. “Nothing in particular, I just wanted it to be about you today,” you replied softly. 

Your boyfriend smirks. “Oh yeah? Mm, I think I want you to prove it,” the blond kisses you once more, pulling at the waistband of your panties to snap it against your hips. “I think ‘m ready now. Fuck me like you mean it.” 

The rasp against your ear sends shivers down your spine, pussy soaked from your previous activities. “Katsuu,” you when he slapped your ass, pushing him down by his chest so you could climb on top of him. “I wanna be on top. I wanna spoil you this time.” 

Bakugo laughed, pulling down your hips so you could grind your pussy over his dick through the thin layer of clothes you had left. “Shit, your soaking baby. You think you can handle me? ‘m all up for it baby go ahead and try.” 

You rolled your eyes at his challenge, always trying to make things into something he could win at, but decided to let it slide. Right now all you wanted was him bruising your cervix. 

Quickly, you discarded your panties and threw them onto the floor leaving that a problem for tomorrow before grabbing your boyfriend’s erect cock and lining him up, tapping his head against your clit. Bakugo watched carefully, not wanting to interrupt your focus as he observed the sight before him. 

“Need help?” He smirked, but you were quick to turn his words against him as you sink down on his dick in one go, cunt more responsive than ever from being ignored so long. Bakugo let out a loud yelp, throwing his head back and reaching to grab your ass so he could slam you down on his cock himself but you slapped his hand away. 

“No, Katsu, just let me take care of you for a bit.”

He let out a loud moan, curing when your pussy clenched him in a vice grip, soaked in your slick fluids onto the point where it dripped down onto his balls. He felt like he was in heaven, velvety walls massaging him with the perfect amount of pressure as your tits bounced every time you sat back down on his cock. 

Bakugo could tell you were really trying, chest moving up and down rapidly as you used all your energy to ride him, moving your hips in circular patterns, even leaning down to kiss his neck every once in a while which had him sighing. He felt like he was in fucking heaven. 

“Look at your cunt fuckin’ swallow me,” he babbles slightly, eyes drooping as he watched you take him over and over again, a little too slow for his liking but he excepts it for now and lets his body relax into the bedsheets. “So fucking tight, made just f’me, huh baby?” 

You moan, hands grasping onto his chest as you lean on him, working yourself up and down his cock feeling right on edge. Ignoring your needs took a toll on you because you were about to cum right as you two started getting to the real fun. 

You slowed down after a while, struggling to keep yourself up. Usually when you were riding Katsuki would grab your hips and control your thrusts but you wanted to top this time, although you were failing miserably. Bakugo was getting impatient quickly, wanting nothing more than to pound you himself. 

“Katsu, so good, feels so good,” you pant, digging your fingernails into his flesh that had him thrusting up into you slightly. You jumped at the feeling, quickly moving your hands down to push at his pelvis and hold him down. “N-No,” you tried to be firm with your words, but they trailed into a moan as Bakugo’s tip reached your g-spot, making your legs tremble and thighs shake.

He finally had enough.

Bakugo grabbed your hips roughly, grouping your doughy ass that you denied him earlier in the process, and held you up just so the tip of his dick was in your twitching cunt. 

“You wanna fucking deny me my fucking pussy?” He groaned, adjusting himself so he could plow you easier while his hands reached up to tilt your chin to him. “Moving a little too slow for my tastes, baby, I think you should let me handle this.” 

Within a second Bakugo was snapping his hips up into you with fast deep thrusts, wet smacks filling the air that had both you and him moaning your heads off. You came easily from the stimulation, pussy clamping down in an attempt to milk his cock. 

“Oh fuck baby! Fuck fuck fuck,” Bakugo repeated those words like a mantra, slamming into you with every breath to the point where he swore he was losing his mind from how well you took him. You cried from the overstimulation, gripping onto him for stability as you let him take you. But he had other plans. 

His hand reached to rub circles on your clit, toying with it like you hadn’t just cum nearly seconds ago. “Ah! ‘Suki stop, too much I can’t take it.” 

He grinned at your words, continuing his abuse of your poor hole and clit. “Aw, but I didn’t get to cum yet baby, wasn’t this about spoiling me? Besides, you wanted to ride me nice and slow, fuckin’ tease. Now you gotta deal with the consequences.” You didn’t realize how much your struggling to take control affected him. 

“Still sensitive babe? Fuck, ‘m gonna cum again, c’mon cum for me, baby. I want you to cum!” 

Your boyfriend grabbed your hips and made you meet his thrusts halfway, making his cock reach deeper inside you and his thrusts more aggressive to push you both over the edge a second time. You cried, tears streaming down your face as your body convulsed and your thighs gave out on you causing you to fall on Bakugo.

It was fucking mesmerizing to him, the way you clamped down on his harder than before, the way your pussy sprayed, the way you shook as you clung on to him from your senses being so sharp, feeling as if even the slightest jolt will bring you back into overstimulation. He swore from just the sight alone he could have cum in his pants, but the pleasure of you milking him for the second time had him going insane, he couldn’t help but cum with you and give in to your sweet cunt, filling you up to the brim. He was already obsessed with your cunt before, but now he swore next time he would drown in your taste till he had you squirting on his lips. 

You two lay there, covered in sweat and you’re cum which had gotten all over your stomach and his chest, panting trying to catch your breath from a very intense session of sex.

“Holy fuck baby,” Bakugo panted, moving his hand to rub your head and make sure you were okay. You were out of it, vision blurry and head dazed so he continued to hold you until you gained back your consciousness. “You okay?” he asked, eyes racking your body for any sign of discomfort. 

“You fucking squirted, never seen you do that before,” he chuckled, kissing your head and rubbing your thighs which had begun to get noticeably red from you riding him.

“Mm, felt so good Katsu, never felt that good before. But ‘m so tired now.” Bakugo smirked at the sound of your voice, watching as you could barely keep your eyes open, in the exact same position he was in before you woke him up to complete bliss. 

“Go ahead and rest, stupid, I’ll clean you up.” And with one last sweet kiss on your lips, you fell out cold. 

|♡|—–|♡| Links: Masterlist,  Ask Me Anything Authors Note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED! Don’t be afraid to make any requests, I love seeing the simplest of messages in my inbox. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, bye bye!  ♡( ◡‿◡ )

[ nsfw ] — no penetration ; oral (f!receiving) ; m!masturbation ; lots of "first time" things and talk ; more virgin bakugou ; angst ; part one

[ wc ] — you know the drill: i'll update this in the morning LOL it's long tho !

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens a towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

I’m thinking of redoing my page whole new color scheme and stuff because i am OVER ITTTTT🙌🏼🚨

Bakugou with a really horny/kinky reader who’s actually a virgin?

mdni fem!readerxbkg

masterlist

uhhh not edited because it’s 7am

“Katsu?” you run your hand up and down his torso as he holds you in your cozy bed. The exhaustion of the day dripping from both of your eyes.

“yeah, baby?” he says eyes still closed and voice gravelly in that sexy tone when he’s tired. Instead of rubbing your vertical motions you move your hand down lower slowly, as if you’re testing the waters. Eventually you hand lands on his cock and instead of pulling away like it was a mistake, you squeeze. And before your boyfriend could question what you were doing, you whisper one last sentence against the shell of his ear.

“Suki i’m so wet right now.” His head flies up with wide eyes.

“Yo-you are? want me to eat you out baby? or finger fuck you?” He offers up solution after solution but none of them are what you really want. seeing you shake your head no he grows confused. You’re horny but don’t want him to help?

“I’ve been wanting it for so long but i didn’t know how to ask, figured sleepy kats was easiest!” you giggle out with the prettiest smile he’s ever seen, only then does he process your words. “ wanting what for so long, pretty girl?” It seemed as though his voice got even lower and raspier as he sat up, pulling you with him. He lied his head back against the bed frame watching to see what you would do next.

Crawling on top of him to feel the growing bulge in his sweatpants. Kissing all over his neck, hips slightly moving to get some much needed friction. “I think you know what i want, dynamight.” His head falls back in a groan at your implication. Shaky hands move to find purchase on your ass to help guide you. “didnt know my baby was so fuckin’ dirty. you want this dick sweets? ‘s all yours, always been yours.” You let out a pained whimper at his words.

“Need it so bad katsu, fuck i need it s’bad. i can’t tell you how many times i’ve imagined you fucking me bent over the counter till i scream.” All while you work at the drawstring of his pants.

“Yeah baby? all ya had to do was ask. now lay back while i give you the best dick of your life. but stop me if it hurts too much kay?” And just like that, a little glimpse of him was back, ready to care for you in one of your firsts.

TAGS 🏷️:

@trafalgar-lau @mybabekatsuki @loving-katsuki @ariavaana @melaniebakugo @keyz-writes @kuleo26 @sirensuki @theweasleysrule @asmaechan

i LOVE! clingy soft bakugou i don’t even care. IT IS SO ADORABLE TO SEE SUCH A BRASH CHARACTER SO CARING AND SOFT FOR SOMEONE

good fucking lord

Thinking about how addicted to your pussy Katsuki gets. Just needs to be in you all the time. His fingers, his tongue, his cock. You’ll feel his warm hand slide up your thigh while you’re out to dinner with Kirishima and Mina, his large fingers teasing your clit over your panties before pulling them to the side and sliding them deep inside you, pumping them in and out of your heat. You sit there struggling to keep your moans in while he nonchalantly looks over the menu.

You’ll walk in the door from work barely getting the words out that you’re home before his figure appears in front of you capturing your mouth in a hot kiss. He pushes you up against the wall and drops to his knees, roughly pushing your tight pencil skirt up over your hips. “Been thinkin’ about this sweet cunt all damn day.” he tugs your underwear down to your ankles, before grabbing your leg and draping it across his shoulder, your stiletto heel scraping along his back as he literally dives into your pussy. Licking a long, wet stripe up from your already clenching hole to your clit. He alternates between kitten licks and pulsing sucks while his crimson eyes focus on how you’re already arching your back, pushing your hips off the wall, begging him for more. Normally he’d let his sadistic side take over and tease you till you’re shaking, crying, dripping- but the need he has to bury his tongue deep inside you is all-consuming. The next thing you know you’re on your back on the sofa, his face buried between your thighs, tongue plunging inside you. You raise up on your elbows so you can watch him fuck you on his tongue. He eats you like a man starved; his eyes roll back in his head as he moans into your cunt.

When you’re lying in bed, he’ll want you to just cockwarm him. He’ll beg you to let him stick it in. Your back is against his chest as he starts to leave hot open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder and up your neck before you hear his deep voice in your ear “You just feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. Always so warm and wet for me. Please? Promise that’s all I want. Just to feel you wrapped around my dick”.

So of course, you let him, he pulls your panties to the side and slides his hard cock inside your velvety walls. Thanking you for being such a good fucking girl for him. Telling you how good you feel. How perfect your pussy is. How he wants to be buried inside you forever. You can’t help but moan and push back against him until every inch is inside you. “Fuck. Never met a bitch with such a needy fuckin' cunt, you know that?” he rasps. “Told ya all I wanted was for you to warm my cock for me. That’s not enough for you though, huh?". His fingers find their way to your lips, and you suck them into your mouth swirling your tongue around them as he continues speaking filth into your ear. You feel his cock twitch inside you the sloppier you get until he’s fucking your throat with his fingers. Making you gag while your pussy pulses and flutters around him.

“You want me to fuck you? Want me to stuff you full of my cum? That what you want?” He pulls his fingers from your throat and stuffs them inside your pussy. The added stretch of them makes you see stars. “Please Katsuki.” You pout. “Please move. I need you. Wanna cum around your fat cock. Please.”. His free hand squeezes around your throat as he starts to draw his hips back, painstakingly slow. You can feel him smirk against you as he presses another kiss to your neck. “You're so fuckin’ cute when you beg. I'll give it to you, princess. Don't worry. Gunna make you cum so hard your vision goes black."

ANYWAYSSSSS 🥴😬