🫧🎀 Unwinding With Bakugou Includes:

shut up i’m busy having a fake relationship with a fictional character right now

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.

Bakugou's fingers are too thick, especially compared to your smaller ones, they reach far deeper then your own fingers, the tips caressing your cervix when he thrusts them in, especially when you are squatting down, thighs pressing against your belly.

His fingers are coarse too, it's easy for him to overstimulate your clit with roughness of them. Quick flicks of his wrist, and you'll be dripping all over, cunt spasming around his digits.

Every session of him fingering ends up with you huddled into his arms, face shoved into the crook of his neck, breathing heavily as you hump your hips against him, begging for him to go deeper.

"Slow down, princess, I'll make ya' cum." He grunts, sadistic grin painting his lips as he pulls his fingers away, grin widening at your whines. He gently nudges you off the bed, making you stand in front of him. He presses a kiss below your belly button.

Fingers slowly tracing circles against your thighs, you let out a breath, hips rutting forward as you try to guide his drying fingers back into your sticky entrance.

"Please", you gasp out, his knuckle grazing your clit, you grab his wrist, hips desperately moving back and forth, gooey cunt rutting against the back of his hand.

He looks amused, pants tightening at the sight of you, head thrown back as you breath heavily.

He leans back onto his free arm, letting you rub your pussy against his knuckles, the view of your hardening nipples and glistening pussy making precum ooze out of his pink tip.

"yer' a sight for sore eyes, baby," he rasps out, leaning forward, hand moving down to unzip his pants, hard cock slapping against his clothes belly, he shimmies a little, pushing his pants further down.

"That desperate, fuckin' slut." He grunts, snatching his hand away, you whined at the loss of stimulation, cunt spasming around nothing, as you hunched over over him, head resting on his shoulder.

He squeezes the base of his cock, hoping to delay his impending orgasm, his fingers find your grooling entrance again, intentionally dodging your clit, sinking into your hole.

You let out a breath, desperate to have any stimulation on your clit, so so close to cumming. You watch as Bakugou straightens up, face coming close to your wet little cunt, you rut your hips forward hoping he'd get the hint and suckle at your clit.

He moved closer, nose almost nudging your hood, before locking eyes with you, and licking at it, tongue drawing shapes on your hardened bud.

You barely even have the time to react before your orgasm comes down crashing, letting out a plathora of moans and a strangled gasp of his name. Your legs stiffening, as you stand on your toes, the stimulation becoming too much

Bakugou holds you close, letting you ride out your orgasm, before slowly pulling you in his lap.

"That was an intense one, hm." He spoke, voice low as he admired your post orgasmic glow, wiping his hand with a clothe, he moved your hairs behind your ears.

"You di- didn't cum." You pout at him, hand gliding up his neck, he lets out a snort, before pressing his lips against yours.

"Just giving you a break, before I do."

sober ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive — liquid courage failed you before, too many times to count. this time, you're staying sharp.

mature content, alcohol/drinking, getting together, katsuki is such a boyfriend for someone who isnt your boyfriend, whipped katsuki my favorite, pov switching, 4k words

Katsuki grunts, scowling at nothing in particular. “Stupid.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Katsuki, pissed enough as he is, shoves a hand to squint at the message.

where r u???? hurry the fuck up. pleasee omfg

It’s from Flat Face. Figures.

eat shit and die im almost there

Without Katsuki to play the adult supervision, Sero remains the sober friend in outings, mostly because he can handle his liquor well. Sero badgers on with his texts, begging for Katsuki to hurry before they’re permanently banned at their favorite karaoke bar.

Sero follows up on a recent message with an image attached. Katsuki slows his steps to glare down at his phone. Sero’s real shitty at taking pictures, or it could be someone’s jostling him from the side. None of it matters — Katsuki’s eyes zero in on you lying on Mina’s lap, where the camera had captured you mid-laugh.

“Stupid,” Katsuki repeats, unable to tear his eyes away from your glee for a moment too long. He only snaps back to reality when his phone dims. He must’ve painted a manic picture, staring at his phone like a damn creep. Fuck.

He’ll see the real deal in a minute, but still, he saves the image in his phone gallery. That’s between him and his phone.

Katsuki ignores the crisp breeze brushing his bare face. His nose twitches, growing numb; he feels his hands ache in traces of pain that come to bloom when it’s met with a sharp chill. This feeds his irritation further, yet it’s telling that he continues to walk down the road, as if turning back home was never an option in his head.

The attendant appears relieved to see him; whether it’s from recognition of the #5 hero or the acknowledgment of this establishment’s savior from rowdy pro heroes, Katsuki will never know. Katsuki doesn’t even need to ask — she just hurries him to the far corner room where his shitty friends are situated. He mutters his thanks. She just tells him good luck. Damn.

Katsuki pulls the sliding door open and is instantly greeted by the stench of alcohol. Sero’s picture hadn’t done enough justice; seeing it in real life is worse. It’s like the aftermath of a nasty villain attack if it came in the form of piles and piles of beer and alcohol puddles and bar snacks all over the table. Kirishima’s knocked out on Sero’s shoulder, drooling. Jirou is also fast asleep, taking an entire couch, leaving Sero to huddle uncomfortably on the edge of a corner. Mina’s holding the microphone, but nothing’s playing; she’s just singing shit. You’re laughing at Mina, clutching your stomach.

He nearly stumbles over a leg belonging to Kaminari, who’s sprawled on the floor for some fucking reason.

“The fuck happened?” he hisses, narrowly missing Kaminari's arm swinging to latch onto his ankle.

Cheers erupt from all around the table when they register Katsuki’s arrival. Sero looks like a single parent of five — which may just be the case.

Sero sighs. “It’s like I blinked and was left with this.”

Katsuki snorts. At least he knows how it feels. He's felt that way since year fucking one.

He steps over Kaminari's body, ignoring his cry, heading straight towards you. Raccoon eyes is talking to Katsuki — something about him being a jackass for bailing on tonight, not that Katsuki gives a single fuck.

“Killjoy. Boring. You’re getting boring, old man!” Mina yells at his face.

“Fuck off,” Katsuki says reflexively. “We’re celebrating again next week anyway. Don’t start with me.”

You beam at him, hands reaching out like a fucking child or something. He begins to pry you off Mina’s lap, but his hold under your arms gives notice to how you’re shivering.

Katsuki shrugs his coat off and drapes it over you. Looks like he’ll have to take you home himself.

“Sero,” Katsuki voices in a bite, glaring over his shoulder.

Sero rushes to service as Katsuki shifts to his back, leaving Kirishima to sag beside Jirou, their snores harmonizing. Sero drags you to settle on Katsuki’s back, where Katsuki quickly hunches over and shifts his palms under your thighs. You mumble happily, burrowing your nose into the nape of his neck.

Katsuki slings a heated warning in Sero’s direction before the bastard can laugh about it.

“Call a cab,” he grunts out. “Wake Shitty Hair up; he can help you with those shits.”

Sero flicks a hand in a mock salute.

It was a tedious process, but everyone managed, eventually. They all crash at Kirishima’s house. They’ll be fine. And if someone’s house burns down — well… they’re heroes, they’ll still be fine.

Katsuki adjusts his hold, exiting the bar as the cab drives off. He walks, the cold billowing a soft cloud in each breath.

“You awake back there?” he asks, staring ahead.

“Mm, you take such good care of me, Katsukiii,” you coo in his ear, your lips brushing over the shell of his ear.

He shivers, feeling warmth creep up the back of his neck. You laugh irritatingly, grating his nerves and fluttering his stomach. He bristles at the sensation, snarling nonsense that you don’t even listen to, too busy giggling over damn who-knows-what.

“Walking me back to your home, huh? What are you, my bodyguard? You big, strong … hunk of a man…”

Katsuki huffs in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Katsuki,” you drawl, your hand sliding over his bicep. “You’re so good to me. You take care of me, y’know?”

“I know,” Katsuki says, devoid of its usual snark. “‘s ‘cause you can’t do it yourself.”

“Ha-ha!” You lean your chin on his shoulder. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right. Wish you could … take care of me like this … forever.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki says, mostly to himself. You don’t respond either way.

Katsuki can fucking smell the alcohol reeking from your mouth. He’s about to tell you off, complain about your goddamn stink, but you’ve gone limp in his hold.

“Do you mean that?” Katsuki starts, and it’s met with silence. Then, snoring.

Katsuki doesn’t smile, but the by-passers would argue otherwise.

This is bad. Starting to get bad.

You got somewhat shit-faced drunk in hopes of making a move on Katsuki with liquid courage, but he’d taken care of you so well that you didn’t even have a hangover as an excuse the moment you jolted to consciousness. Your head is starting to clear up, losing its fog and illusion of confidence, and your brain is running off at full speed.

This isn’t the first time you’ve sobered up while in the warmth of Katsuki’s bed, an hour or so after he whisked you away from your shared friend group.

What the fuck am I doing? You want to punch something and scream, ideally where Katsuki can’t see you throwing a tantrum.

You turn to your side where Katsuki’s still in deep sleep, shoulders rising and falling at once like a decrescendo, slow and steady. It’s a heart-aching sight — achingly bare.

He has his back turned. You hold your breath and peek over, hands catching an inch away from Katsuki’s face, catching a view of his mouth open just a tiny bit for quiet snores to come out. It’s unbearably cute. He must’ve been tired, having to take care of your careless drunk ass all night, and it’s not even the first time.

This isn't anything new either — sleeping on the same bed. You remember it from the first night. He shrugged it off, saying he didn't want to carry your ass anymore. You're already makin' me take care of your dumb ass every time this shit happens — you expected me to go 'n sacrifice the bed I bought with my own money?

"Scandalous," you said, at the time, reeling from how defensive Katsuki had been.

"Not like I'm gonna do anythin' to you." Katsuki stared you down. "Why? You wanted me to?"

How embarrassing to resort to liquid courage and still fail.

This has to end. You are definitely not aiming to become a drunkard just to have a chance with your crush.

“Morning,” a gravelly voice mutters, breath hot on your face.

You come to the startling realization that you've been hovering over Katsuki for longer than you intended. His intense gaze arrests yours, tension hanging in the hair. Like doused in a bucket of cold water, you jerk away and flounder, half-baked syllables spilling as some attempt of an excuse. There is no other explanation for that — you were ogling Katsuki in his sleep.

Katsuki doesn’t smirk, but the mirth lighting in his eyes comes very close to it. He pulls you to his side, gripping one of your wrists and positioning it on the other side of his head. He adjusts your hold until you’re pinning him down.

You choke on your breath. “What—”

This time, Katsuki grins. “You're gonna strain your shoulders, idiot.”

Dangerous man, the primal instincts of your brain scream, flinching away, hissing. The hormonal side begs you to pounce on him and wipe that smug expression off his handsome face.

You quickly pull back, recoiling away, only to find yourself back up to the firm surface of Katsuki’s thigh, where he had lifted it in his wake. The shock sends a sharp jolt of aching pain at your violent reaction. You whimper and clutch at your head, dizziness inciting a pathetic: Owww.

“Don’t move so much, fucking dipshit,” Katsuki hisses, easing your hips down on his other thigh that’s laid flat on the bed. “Don’t you fuckin' dare throw up so goddamn early. Shit, it’s like, what, four AM?”

You sag against him, feeling at ease without the strain of your muscles holding your weight up. Katsuki’s like a mountain mass furnace — how nice. You don’t even register that you’re all but straddled on his thigh; if anyone were to walk in, they’d be well within their rights to assume the worst.

Katsuki cranes his neck as he reaches for a glass. You jostle at the movement, grumbling, and Katsuki mutters a quiet ‘sorry,' holding the water to your lips. You take gulps of water slowly, careful not to spill and ruin Katsuki’s strangely soft mood.

“Thanks,” you say. Katsuki’s actions and the weight of his tone — everything is off-kilter with the mood that’s just set. He’s really… “Sorry for the trouble,” you say in a hushed whisper, guilt settling in.

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t,” Katsuki snaps, frown deepening. His eyes don’t convey the same ire.

“Yeah.” You nod, fond. “You don’t do anything you don’t want to, huh?”

Katsuki’s expression shifts. Just slightly, before it melts back into practiced blankness. “So?”

Everything’s straightforward with Katsuki. But even then — even then, he might not mean it in the same way as you’re hoping.

“I wasn’t that drunk, you know.” You want to look away, but you’re finding it difficult to even try. “I never was. I — I know this is the third time this happened.”

Katsuki lifts a brow. “You remember the first time you threw up in my car then?”

Your face erupts in flames. “I’m so sorry.”

Katsuki pushes you by the small of your back, closer to him. You swallow back an embarrassing noise, somehow quick enough to balance yourself on his chest before you plant your nose to his face. Katsuki’s ruby gaze pins you down, even when you’re the one on top of him. Dangerous, dangerous, leave, your brain yowls. Your body, your heart — stays incredibly still, obedient in the face of the man who's got you weak.

“Do you remember what you said last night?” Katsuki asks, several octaves deep. Roused freshly from slumber.

You squirm. His skin feels hot to the touch, even through his fucking black tank top. “I said a lot of dumb shit, Katsuki.”

“Do you mean them, then?”

You file through your memories, trying to pinpoint precisely what he’s talking about. Katsuki’s patient, seemingly content with keeping you on his lap, staring. You’re the humiliated one here.

“What did I say?” you demand, nerves constricting in your chest.

Katsuki pushes his torso up with a hand, inching his face impossibly close. The heat of his gaze spreads through your entire body. You’re sure he can feel it, too — hard to miss when you’re a lapful of a flighty cat perched on him.

His nose brushes against yours, eyes flickering down. Your breath hitches, caught in the hush of the moment.

“Katsuki?” you ask in a fearful whisper. Katsuki’s eyes snap back to meet your gaze.

“‘m hungry,” Katsuki mutters, leaning back.

Your face burns, his warmth lingering on the space before you. Your hands touch over your face, winded. Still aware of Katsuki’s intense gaze, you pull off from his lap, ignoring the scream of your headache as you dash to the kitchen.

You really thought he was going to kiss you.

No, maybe it's more accurate to say you were hoping for it. You almost pleaded for him to. Had he lingered, you would’ve thrown yourself all over him, begging, Please, please, Katsuki kiss me — I need you. How embarrassing is that? To need someone so badly that he's your waking thought, and yet you hate seeing him around?

Instead, the morning ended with Katsuki lending his shirt and driving you back to your apartment — a set routine — the third time. You talked to ease the tension, but it was a fruitless attempt at the question hanging in the air, dangling in front of both your faces. Katsuki doesn’t bring it up, so you hang onto the sliver of mercy he’s granted.

The week passes, and still, you aren't quite ready when another chance comes again.

You wonder if he’ll bring it up tonight.

This time, the party is in honor of celebrating Katsuki’s — Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight — ascension to the Top 5 in the Pro Hero ranking. Katsuki’s not surprised, but most of the class is; he hasn’t laid off on the crude language, so it’s a wonder he even got into the Top 10 at all.

Most of your former classmates are busy with their duties and patrol, and Katsuki isn’t keen on inviting more than five people to his house. Unfortunately for him, Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, Jirou, and Kaminari wouldn’t miss this celebration for the world — Villains be damned, it’s Bakugou Katsuki’s big day. It’s an unspoken agreement that you tag along. Katsuki also texted you that you were late an hour ago, so it’d be no use for anyone to upset Katsuki.

Of course, parties go hand-in-hand with alcohol. You had been avoiding Katsuki since that night, fleeing at every glimpse of blond hair. No one has noticed, except maybe Katsuki, whose eyes linger on you for five seconds longer than usual when you knock on his door.

His gaze sends a lick of heat down your spine, and the night’s just starting.

There needs to be a change of plans. If trapping him drunk doesn’t work after three failed attempts, then you have no choice but to do it sober.

That scrap of interest Katsuki had shown last week was more than enough encouragement. If you don’t end up confessing your feelings tonight, then that just means you’re never meant to do it at all — which would’ve been the easiest way out if Katsuki didn’t make it so hard.

“Hey,” you say. "I'm here."

“Finally,” he mutters. Your lips quirk up in humor.

Katsuki’s gaze slips from your collarbone to your thighs before flicking back up. A flame of interest makes itself known to you, to your chagrin. You’re no better: Katsuki’s dressed in low-hung jeans and a black fitted tank top under a striking red button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. How can he make a simple nothing look so sinful?

Katsuki steps back, presenting the surprisingly neat get-together your friends have set up. There’s a buffet of food spread across Katsuki’s dining table — and because you know Katsuki well enough to be privy to his skills in the kitchen, you can tell he cooked all of them. There are banners spelling his name out beside Congratulations!, which must be Katsuki’s limit, seeing the lack of confetti.

“You’re here!” Mina shrieks, bounding over to encase you in a tight hug.

Air knocks out of your lungs as she squeezes your neck. You tap Mina’s back in distress. The room lights up with laughter, greeting you in turn. Kaminari moves to ruffle your hair, but his eyes catch on something behind you, and he pales and hides behind an amused Kirishima.

Katsuki heads to the kitchen island, alcohol lined up in a neat pile. You decide firmly that you are not getting drunk — you will power through with your plan, and that’s your mission for the day.

You pump your fist once and exhale roughly. Plus Ultra! Mina says you look stupid, dragging you off to the living room.

You’re squished between Kaminari and Mina, who throw their heads back for a shot.

True to your word, you denied any shot glasses offered, instead busying your mouth with the food Katsuki cooked. It's too bad you can't shut your brain the same way.

It’s tempting — really, really tempting. You haven’t been able to approach Katsuki, feeling too much like you should just forget about whatever plan you had for a confession and ride the tide back to normalcy. To get shitfaced drunk and leave it for you to deal with in the morning. But whenever you meet Katsuki’s eyes — it’s like you’re back on his bed, he’s too close for comfort, and you're reminded of all those mornings you wished was so much more last night, and the itch for alcohol is swept away.

Mina rests her head on the curve of your shoulder, her hair tickling your cheek. She asks, too nonchalantly for your liking—

“Have you and Katsuki fucked this week yet?”

You’re fortunate enough to have decided to skip alcohol for tonight, or else you would’ve died from choking on it. You glance over, hoping Katsuki hadn't been paying attention, but to your relief, he was absorbed in a discussion with Kirishima. “I’m — Have we — What?!”

Mina barrels on obliviously. “Had sex. Gotten busy. Under the covers. Hands-on learning—”

“No, I — What the fuck!” You shove her off. Mina sways in place; you'd feel sorry if you weren’t so scandalized. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Oh.” Mina tilts her head and watches your reaction thoughtfully. “No wonder why. Katsuki’s looking all tense lately.”

What the hell. “So?!”

Your shriek disturbs the peace of the party.

Kaminari chimes in to add to the blow. You lock eyes with Katsuki from across the room — must be the ninth time this evening — while Mina and Kaminari crowd in on you, relentless with probing curiosity. “I also thought he was acting like he was lacking some action—”

Blood rushes to your cheeks as you rip your gaze off Katsuki’s questioning stare. Then, in a low whisper, “Katsuki and I have never — we aren’t even—”

Kaminari turns his head, presumably to eye Katsuki. “Why does he look like he’s about to eat you up?”

“Do I look like I can read his mind?” You feel irritation like a blade on your nerves. “If he’s all tense, then he should get his dick wet — and I’m not involved in any of that.”

Mina gapes, disgusted. “What? You’d just let him fool around with someone else?”

“Why would that be my issue?”

Mina and Kaminari share a look. “Oh my god.” 

“You’re actually not together? Not even, like — just fooling around as friends?”

“No, Kaminari.” You hate how you sound defeated admitting that. “No, we’re not.”

“Fuck,” says Mina emphatically. “Fuck! You’ve got to fuck!”

“What — Why is this my responsibility? If he’s happy fucking someone else, let him be — You want him to loosen up, don’t you?”

Mina’s face shifts into a devious little thing. “You look like you want him to loosen you up.”

"That's so gross, Ashido."

Kaminari grins knowingly. “You jealous? Why’s that, huh?”

“Because I’ve been wanting to confess to him for two months now, and my liquid courage is nothing but a fucking cock-blocker!” you hiss in a frantic whisper.

“We’ve got to fix this!” Mina says, the hero that she is. “We need you to get laid!”

“Please tone it down,” you plead.

Kaminari tugs you down in a mock of a team huddle. You squirm uncomfortably; you can taste the liquor in their breaths. “What’s your game plan?” he asks. “Seduce him? Lock him up in his room, maybe?”

“I guess? I just want to do it sober.”

Mina suddenly leaps to her feet, yelling like a soldier. “Isolate him, then force your love!”

“Sober and preferably not unhero-like.”

Mina squeals, cupping your cheeks. “Do it tonight. He’s ready, I can feel it. He’s looking at you.”

Everyone in the room is casting glances at the three of you, but thankfully, Sero, Jirou, and Kirishima are respectful enough not to approach and disrupt the troubling conversation for your dignity’s sake.

“Of course he’s looking at me,” you wallow in mortification. “You’re making it too obvious. I’m going to get bullied.”

Mina smirks, her gaze trained ahead. “Yeah, you’re going to get bullied alright.”

You splutter, “What do you mean—”

Katsuki hovers over you three. “Let’s talk,” he demands, glaring hotly.

You’re back in Katsuki’s room, this damned space — the source of all your longing dreams and fantasies. The music from downstairs dials up, though it seems like it’s more out of consideration for you both. You’d been whisked away by Bakugou Katsuki once again, both of you blatantly disregarding the obscene gestures Mina and Kaminari were making as he pulled you upstairs. This time, however, you’re as sober as ever. It feels so different, like you're pulled out after submerging in the water for too long. Everything is so loud and clear.

Katsuki cages you against his door, never one to mess around.

“If I made you uncomfortable, punch me,” Katsuki says out of nowhere.

You’re speechless. “What?”

“Just — yell at me or some shit. Don’t start avoidin’ me, and don’t just move on to some other extra,” Katsuki mutters, deliberately averting your wide eyes. Move on to another— "I'll leave you alone."

"Why would I…" Move on to someone else? That's almost disrespectful to all the pining that's fucked with your head since this crap started. Move on? From Bakugou Katsuki?

"You were talking about it with those assholes."

Oh. He overheard all the wrong parts.

"I'm not gonna hook up with anyone else!"

The tension that has coiled tightly around his shoulders eases. Yet, despite this, he still hadn't made any bold moves to lead you to his bed, holding onto a fragile thread of hesitation that lingered in the air between you. Like you didn't just admit you're exclusively waiting for him.

His face twists up. “And, about that night, I wasn’t gonna — fuck, I’m not gonna do shit you don’t want, but I can’t read your mind. I don't wanna fuck this up.”

“What are we talking about?”

“The kiss, dammit — shit. Get it straight before I get the wrong idea.” Katsuki groans, resting an arm above your head. Is it wrong to be so endeared by someone clearly struggling to get his point across? “Do you mean it?”

You furrow your brows, arms crossed. This again. “What did I say, Katsuki?”

“When you said you wanted me to take care of you forever.”

What the hell? Did you really say that? Screw the exclusiveness of sex, that was basically a proposal!

Katsuki hooks a finger on your chin and forces your gaze back to him. Pay attention to me. Your eyes drift away for a second, catching on his ears, tinted ears — in contrast to his fierce scowl.

Your shoulders relax somewhat. Then you can't help but laugh.

Right, this is still just Katsuki. Your best friend, crush since forever; the guy who took care of you without even asking for anything in return. The guy who apparently has been considering your boundaries even though you've been seducing him drunk too many times.

“Why are you laughing,” Katsuki hisses; his frustration sounds more agitated than furious.

“So you did want to kiss me that morning?”

“No shit,” Katsuki huffs in a humorless laugh. “But, fuck, I’m not shitty enough to force you—”

“Katsuki,” you interrupt, “you should’ve.”

He falls silent, red eyes piercing yours searchingly.

Dangerous, your mind whispers, but you’ve never wanted to experience a thrill like this in your life. “I really wanted you to.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re lucky you took good care of me before I pounced on you drunk,” you say, and you mean it too. Your hands snake over his shoulder, tugging him down.

Katsuki’s breath catches in his throat, looking caught off guard. Wide-eyed and unsure. Cute. “Are you drunk right now?” he asks carefully.

“Never been more sober in my life,” you breathe.

He dives in for a rough kiss, one hand on the back of your head to push you deeper into him. You tilt your head to the side and — yeah, that’s better. Katsuki pries your mouth open, coaxing noises out of you that he each answers with a groan.

He smells like alcohol in his breath. It mixes with the scent of smoke — a dizzying, cloying scent that screams Katsuki. You want this more than Katsuki realizes. You want to sleep with it, to wake up to it.

“How much did you drink?” you ask.

“Just two light ones,” Katsuki says, and then one side of his lip quirks up. “Thought I had to take your ass home again.”

You smile coyly, tracing a finger over his bicep. “We can skip the foreplay — I'm already in your home, aren't I?”

Katsuki goes very, very still. Staring blankly. You hope you can convey it — you hope he doesn’t back out and pull away. You know he’ll get it. Katsuki is smart enough to pick up on your pleading gaze. His eyes burn; clearer, now, bright with understanding. 

I want this, too. You’re not sure if you or Katsuki said it.

You take his daze as a chance to push him to his bed, with you straddling legs as his eyes devour every inch of you.

“Get the fuck out of here if you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” Katsuki says seriously.

You settle over his thigh, mimicking that morning, hands splayed on his chest. Katsuki wheezes out a breath that sounds like he’s been slammed onto a wall, his grip latching onto either side of your hips right away.

“Take care of me again?” you ask.

“Holy fuck,” Katsuki says.

© dekuneho 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate. do not input this to AI.

if you read my previous drabble ik i recycled it… but in my defense this one came first. thanks for reading mwa

you have to constantly remind bestfriend!Bakugou that he can’t belittle and compare every guy you like to himself because of course they’re no match for the future no. 1 hero

bakugou loves being your personal photographer. you'll ask him to take a quick picture of you near some flowers to which he grunts in agreement bc the man can never say no to you. suddenly a quick pic turns into multiple pics. he’s directing you towards better lighting, recommending poses, holding your bag, all while squatting and leaning down to get the perfect angles. like pursue being a photographer instead of a hero?? he's cooing out all these praises like “my girl looks so good" and "atta girl". he's giving facebook mom basically. he couldn't give less of a fuck about whoever may be watching him because all he can focus on is you and your angelic beauty. right when you think he’s finally done, he’ll whip out his digital camera. and you guys do it all over again. the man’s just your biggest fan i guess.

WHAT YOU NEED; A RUINATION

[ nsfw ] — smut (18+) ; bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 7,149 — read on ao3

tags: shameless smut, rough sex, established relationship, aged-up characters, oral sex, vaginal sex, explicit language & sexual content, praise kink, dirty talk, domestic fluff

summary:

He’s everywhere; consuming you; possessing you, and you let him. You want him to. Because there’s no one else who could ever make you feel like this.

No one else who could ever ruin you so perfectly.

Or, in which Bakugou Katsuki is the one ruining you, yet also the one being ruined in the end.

The bedroom is dimly lit, bathed in the soft golden hue of the bedside lamp. The air is warm, and the only sounds filling the space are the steady breaths you take, and the quiet rustle of the sheets as you shift between his thighs. Katsuki sits propped up against the headboard, legs spread comfortably wide as you kneel before him, your gaze fixed on his hard cock resting against his abdomen, flushed and glistening with beads of pre-cum that call to you like a siren.

The moment feels intimate, personal—like a secret shared only between the two of you. His bare chest rises and falls steadily, his crimson eyes half-lidded, softened by the warmth of the moment, by the way you look at him like he’s the only thing that matters. And to you, right now, he is.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. His knuckles brush your cheek, grazing your skin so tenderly that it makes your heart stutter. He pushes a few strands of hair from your face, tucking them gently behind your ear as he leans back again, watching you with that intense gaze of his. There’s affection in the way he looks at you, mixed with the unspoken desire burning in his eyes. “Good girl,” he whispers, the words rolling off his tongue like honey, thick and sweet. “So good for me.”

Your breath hitches at his praise, thighs clenching together instinctively as arousal blooms hot and thick between your legs. But it’s not about you right now; it’s about him—about making him feel good, watching the way his lips part and his jaw tightens as you slowly lower yourself, your mouth hovering just above the tip of his cock. You can feel his heat, the slick bead of pre-cum teasing your lips, and it sends a wave of anticipation through you.

You press a soft kiss to the head, tasting the salt of him on your tongue before you part your lips and take him in. Slowly, you swirl your tongue around the tip, savoring the way his body reacts—how his thigh muscles twitch, how his breath catches for just a moment. He’s watching you, always watching, and the weight of his gaze makes your skin prickle with excitement.

“Fuck,” he groans quietly, his head falling back against the headboard, fingers curling into the sheets. But even as the curse slips past his lips, there’s a gentleness in the way he cups the back of your head, guiding you but never forcing, letting you set your own pace. “Just like that…”

You hum against him, the vibrations of your voice making him hiss through his teeth. His approval fuels you, makes you more eager to please him, and you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you start to bob your head, tongue gliding along the underside of his cock. The weight of him fills your mouth, every inch of him stretching your lips, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you as your chin becomes slick with spit.

Your hands come up, fingers wrapping around the base of his cock as you pump what you can’t take in your mouth, and it’s intoxicating—the sound of your wet mouth working him over, the salty taste of him, the low grunts and growls that escape him in response. You’re lost in it, in him, so completely consumed by the way he feels against your tongue, by the way he reacts to every little movement you make.

It’s impossible to ignore how wet you are, how your own body throbs with need as your thighs press together, trying to alleviate the ache building between them. But no matter how turned on you are, you can’t stop. You don’t want to. The taste of him, the feel of him twitching in your mouth as his hips start to move, gently thrusting up into your heat—it’s all too good. Too much. You can’t get enough.

“You love this, huh?” Katsuki breathes, voice thick with lust and amusement as he gazes down at you, his fingers stroking through your hair. “You love sucking me off… fuck, you look so pretty like this.”

The praise sends another rush of arousal through you, making your toes curl as you take him deeper, letting the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. You gag just slightly but push through it, the mix of discomfort and pleasure driving you to take him even more.

His fingers tighten in your hair as he groans low and deep, and you can feel him trembling beneath you, his thighs tensing as he fights to keep his control. But you don’t let up, even as his breath quickens, even as the taste of him becomes stronger—bitter and salty as the first spurts of his release hit your tongue.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His voice cracks, and with a final thrust of his hips, he spills into your mouth, hot and thick. The taste of him floods your senses, a little sour, a little bitter, but intoxicating in the way it fills you completely, like you were made to take it.

But you don’t stop.

Even as he trembles beneath you, even as he curses and gasps for breath, you keep going, sucking him through his orgasm, your lips still wrapped tightly around him as you bob your head slowly, milking every last drop from him. His body shudders, a broken moan tearing from his throat as his hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer to him as if he can’t handle the pleasure but doesn’t want you to stop, either.

“Shit, baby,” he groans, his chest heaving as his hand falls from your head to cup your cheek, thumb brushing tenderly across your spit-slick skin. His voice is softer now, more vulnerable, and it makes your heart swell. “Too good… you’re too fuckin’ good.”

The sound of his praise, the way his thumb strokes your cheek, and the sight of him above you—flushed and breathless, with his chest heaving and his eyes half-lidded with satisfaction—it all makes your heart flutter in your chest. There’s such a softness in the way he looks at you, even now, even after he’s just fallen apart in your mouth. The love in his gaze is undeniable, and it makes you feel warm all over, like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

You swallow what’s left of him, your lips parting with a soft pop as you finally pull back, resting your cheek against his thigh as you look up at him, your own body trembling with the aftershocks of arousal that have yet to be addressed. You’re breathless, your face and hands covered in spit, but you don’t care. All that matters is him—the way he’s looking at you, the way his fingers continue to trace patterns on your skin, like he can’t stop touching you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he mutters, his voice hoarse as his hand cradles the back of your head, pulling you up to meet his lips. The kiss is slow, tender, and filled with a kind of love that makes your chest ache. When he pulls back, his forehead presses against yours, and you feel the soft brush of his breath against your lips as he smiles, just a little. 

Your breath comes out in soft, shaky pants as you slowly rise, straddling Katsuki’s hips. His cock rests against your soaked folds, teasing you as you hover just above him, already wet and needy from everything that’s come before. The sheets cling to your knees, and your thighs tremble with anticipation, your body practically vibrating with desire. 

Katsuki leans back against the headboard, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he watches you, his crimson eyes half-lidded but focused entirely on you. His arms rest casually on either side of him, but his fingers twitch like he’s dying to touch you, to feel your skin beneath his calloused palms. His chest rises and falls with steady breaths, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he shifts beneath you.

“Whaddya want, huh?” His voice is rough, teasing, yet there’s an edge of softness beneath it, that familiar tone he only uses when it’s just the two of you, when you’re wrapped up in each other like this. His fingers finally come up to brush your thighs, dragging along your skin slowly, so slow it sends sparks of heat straight to your core. “You gonna tell me what you want, or are you just gonna sit there lookin’ pretty?”

You bite your lip, feeling your heart stutter in your chest at his words, at the way he watches you like he’s waiting to devour you whole. Your hands press against his chest for balance, his skin warm under your palms as you lean forward slightly, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Wanna ride you,” you whisper, your voice low and breathy, trembling with the weight of your desire. You can feel the heat of his body, the way his chest rises to meet yours with each breath. “Wanna show you how much I love you, Katsuki.”

At your words, he groans softly, his head tilting back slightly as his hands slide up your thighs, fingers digging into your hips. There’s a flicker of something tender in his eyes, something that makes your heart swell even more, and the way he looks at you—like you’re everything he’s ever wanted—only makes you more desperate to feel him inside you, to be closer to him in every way.

“Yeah?” His lips curve into a smirk, but there’s an unmistakable warmth in his gaze. His hands grip your waist, holding you steady as he watches the way you line yourself up with him, your slick folds gliding against his length, coating him in your arousal. “Then show me. Show me how much you fuckin’ love me.”

With a deep breath, you sink down onto him slowly, your walls stretching to accommodate him as he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch so deep and so good that you can’t help but moan, your body trembling as you take him inch by inch. His grip on your hips tightens, his head falling back with a deep groan as you clench around him.

“Fuck,” he growls, his voice low and hoarse as he watches you through half-lidded eyes. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your lips as you begin to move, slowly at first, your hips rolling in smooth circles as you ride him, your body desperate to feel every inch of him. The heat between your legs is intense, and the way he fills you so perfectly has you gasping for breath, every movement sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body.

His hands slide up your back, one cupping your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing strokes. You moan softly, your back arching into his touch as he leans forward just enough to take your nipple into his mouth, his lips warm and wet as he sucks gently, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

“Katsuki,” you breathe, your voice trembling as you continue to ride him, your pace quickening as the pleasure builds inside you. His mouth on your breast, his hands on your hips, his cock buried so deep inside you—it’s all too much, and yet, you need more. You need all of him. 

He groans against your skin, his breath hot against your chest as he pulls back, his tongue flicking over your nipple one last time before he leans back against the headboard, his hands gripping your hips again. “That’s it, princess. Keep goin’. You’re so fuckin’ good.”

His praise sends a shiver of excitement through you, making your movements even more desperate as you ride him faster, your hips grinding down against him with every thrust. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together fill the room, the wet heat between your legs driving you wild as you feel your climax building, creeping up on you with each roll of your hips.

His hands wander down to your ass, fingers digging into your skin as he helps guide your movements, his eyes dark and full of lust as he watches the way you take him, the way your body moves so perfectly above him.

“You gonna take all this cum, huh?” he growls, his voice strained as his grip on your hips tightens. “You gonna let me fill you up?”

You nod eagerly, your head falling back as you gasp for breath, the pleasure too much to contain as you feel the first tremors of your orgasm building inside you. “Always, Katsuki,” you whimper, your voice shaking with need. “For you, always.”

He groans at your words, his hips bucking up into you as his fingers dig into your skin. The heat between your legs is almost unbearable now, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside you until you can’t hold back anymore.

“Katsuki,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you ride him faster, your body trembling with the intensity of your need. “I—I can’t… It’s so—” 

“Fuck, you’re gonna come for me, huh?” He grins, his voice breathless and teasing, but there’s an unmistakable tenderness in his gaze as he watches you, his hands never leaving your skin. “Do it, baby. Come for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave as you grind down against him, your walls pulsing around his cock. The pleasure is overwhelming, stealing your breath as you gasp for air, your thighs trembling as your entire body shudders with the force of your release.

Katsuki watches you the whole time, his lips parted in a quiet groan as he grips your hips, holding you steady as you ride out your orgasm. His gaze is soft, full of affection, and something deeper, something that makes your heart flutter in your chest even as your body quakes with pleasure.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of warmth as his thumb brushes over your trembling thigh. “You’re so good for me.”

Even as the last waves of your orgasm fade, you can’t stop. You’re still so wet, still so needy, and the way he fills you, the way his cock feels buried deep inside you—it’s not enough. You need more. You need all of him.

You start moving again, your hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles as you ride him, your body aching for another release, another high. His hands slide up your back, one cupping your breast again as his other hand presses against the small of your back, guiding your movements with soft, gentle pressure.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans, his voice hoarse as he watches you, his eyes dark with lust and affection. “You can’t get enough of me, can you?”

You shake your head, your breath coming out in short, desperate gasps as you grind down against him, your body trembling with need. “No,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. “I can’t… I need you, Katsuki.”

He groans softly into your mouth, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your head as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours in a slow, languid dance. The kiss is full of love, full of the warmth and affection you always feel when you’re with him, and it only makes your heart swell even more.

You ride him faster, your body moving on its own now, desperate for more of him, more of the pleasure only he can give you. His hands roam your body, his touch gentle and firm all at once, and you can feel him trembling beneath you, his cock pulsing inside you as he nears his own release.

“I’m gonna come,” he growls, his voice strained as his hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he thrusts up into you, his hips meeting yours with every roll. “Fuck, baby… you’re so fuckin’ good…”

You nod, your head falling back as you gasp for breath, your body trembling with the intensity of your need. “Please,” you whisper, your voice shaky as you grind down against him, your walls pulsing around his cock. “Please, Katsuki… fill me up…”

With a final thrust, he spills into you, his body trembling as he releases inside you, hot and thick. The sensation sends another wave of pleasure through you, and you can’t help but moan as you grind down against him, taking everything he has to give you.

For a moment, neither of you move, your bodies tangled together, breathless and trembling. His hands slide up your back, pulling you against his chest as he holds you close, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, your jaw.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice soft and full of love. His breath is warm, his words making your heart swell as you melt into him, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. The world outside the bed fades, leaving just the two of you—bare, tangled, and basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder, still catching your breath. His skin is damp, his chest heaving as he slowly calms down from the intensity of it all. But Katsuki’s hands never stop moving—one glides up and down your back, gentle and soothing, while the other traces lazy circles on your hip. Even after everything, he’s still touching you, like he can’t get enough of your skin against his.

"Still got energy to keep goin'?" His voice rumbles against you, teasing, but there’s an unmistakable tenderness there. He tilts his head down, pressing his lips to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your hair, pushing the strands away from your face.

You smile, your heart fluttering at his touch. The warmth in his gaze, the quiet affection that lingers behind his teasing words, it’s everything you’ve come to know and love about him. Katsuki—rough, tough, a little brash, but in moments like these, he’s soft and open, all for you.

"Mmm… maybe," you hum, your voice lazy, though the aftershocks of your pleasure still send pleasant shivers through your body. You shift slightly, wincing at the sensitivity between your legs, and Katsuki's hands immediately tighten around you, as if instinctively trying to protect you.

“Oi, don’t push yourself.” He clicks his tongue, but his voice is soft, and there’s a glint of worry in his eyes, even if he’s trying to mask it with that usual gruffness. “I’m not goin' anywhere, you know.”

You chuckle, leaning up just enough to look him in the eye. “I know, I just…” You bite your lip, your hands tracing the contours of his chest, your fingers gently brushing over his heart. “I love you. And I always want you, Katsuki. It’s like I can’t ever get enough.”

His eyes darken at your confession, and for a moment, the teasing smirk on his face falters, replaced by something deeper. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he gazes at you with that soft, yet intense look that always leaves you breathless.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice rough but filled with so much love it makes your chest tighten. “Every part of you. Every damn part.”

There’s a possessiveness in his tone, but it’s not harsh or overbearing. It’s full of adoration, the way only Katsuki can say it—like he needs you, craves you, but also wants to keep you safe, wants to love you in all the ways he knows how.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his thumb before leaning in to kiss him on the lips. It’s slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that speaks volumes without needing words. He kisses you back just as gently, his hand slipping from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck, holding you close as your lips move together in perfect sync.

When you finally pull away, both of you breathing heavily, Katsuki gives you that lazy grin that makes your heart skip a beat. He looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, his crimson eyes soft but still burning with the intensity that makes you melt.

You trace your fingers over the firm planes of his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch, the way his muscles tense just slightly at the sensation. Your nails scrape lightly over his pecs, then drift lower, tracing the deep ridges of his abdomen, following the defined cut of muscle that leads downward. The whole time, your gaze is locked on his, watching for every little reaction, every subtle shift in his expression. And you see it—the way his breath hitches, the flicker of something dark and hungry in those crimson eyes, the barely-there tremor in his fingers as they twitch at your hips. 

He’s trying to stay composed, to keep that usual cocky edge, but you know him too well. You know how to unravel him. 

“You’re so sexy,” you breathe, voice laced with unfiltered desire, your words rolling off your tongue with the kind of smooth confidence that’s second nature to you. The smirk that tugs at your lips is slow, teasing, like you’re savoring the power you have over him. You drag your nails lightly down his abdomen, feeling his stomach clench beneath your touch, and let your fingers dance along his v-line. “I want you all the time.” 

His reaction is immediate. A deep, low growl rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your palms, and his grip on your hips tightens, fingers pressing into your skin like he’s fighting to hold himself back. His jaw clenches, his throat bobs as he swallows hard, and his pupils blow wide with something raw, something primal. His breath is heavy, uneven, and for a moment, he just stares at you—like you’ve stolen the air from his lungs, like he’s trying to process the weight of your words and the way they punch through whatever restraint he’s barely holding onto. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, voice rough, thick with something almost reverent, and then he moves. 

It’s sudden, fast—before you can blink, he flips you onto your back, pinning you against the mattress with a kind of controlled force that makes your stomach flip. His body is solid, warm, pressing down over you, his thighs caging you in, his hands bracketing your head. He’s hovering just above you, close enough that you can feel his breath against your lips, but not close enough to kiss. Not yet. He’s teasing himself as much as he’s teasing you, savoring the moment, making you wait. 

You swallow hard, pulse hammering against your ribs as you stare up at him. His face is shadowed in the dim light, his golden skin glowing under the soft hue of the bedside lamp. His hair is a mess, wild and tousled from your fingers, and his lips are parted, pink and kiss-swollen. But it’s his eyes that make your breath catch—the way they burn into you, intense, filled with something so unfiltered it makes your skin prickle with heat. 

“Say that again,” he demands, voice low, almost dangerous, but there’s something underneath it, something deeper. A plea, almost. 

You know exactly what he’s asking for, exactly what he wants to hear. And you don’t hesitate. 

“I want you all the time,” you say again, slow, deliberate, letting every syllable drip with sincerity, with hunger, with devotion. You lift a hand, cupping his cheek, your thumb grazing over his sharp jawline, and his breath stutters just a little, his lashes fluttering as he leans into your touch—just barely, but you catch it. 

Something about the way you say it, about the way you look at him when you say it, makes his whole body tense. His fingers curl into the sheets beside your head, his muscles coiling like a predator about to pounce, like he’s barely holding himself together. 

Then he’s kissing you, hard. 

It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claim. His lips crash against yours with a bruising intensity, stealing your breath, swallowing the quiet gasp that escapes you. His hands move, one tangling in your hair, gripping tight as he tilts your head back, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, deliberate stroke that makes your toes curl. The other hand drags down your side, firm and possessive, following the curve of your waist before gripping your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh. 

He kisses like he does everything else—fierce, overwhelming, like he has something to prove. Like he wants to ruin you for anyone else, make sure you never forget the way he feels, the way he tastes, the way he consumes you whole. 

And you? You love it. You thrive on it. 

You moan into his mouth, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him growl. His hips press down against yours, his cock heavy and hot against your soaked folds, and the friction sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. You arch into him instinctively, chasing more, desperate for him, for everything he’s willing to give you. 

“Needy little thing,” he mutters against your lips, his breath warm, teasing, but there’s a roughness to it, like he’s just as desperate as you are. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, tracing the shape of your mouth before pressing inside, against your tongue. His gaze darkens as he watches you suck on it, your lips wrapping around his thumb, your tongue swirling over the pad. 

His breathing stutters again, and you can see it—that momentary flicker of vulnerability, of sheer awe, like he can’t believe you’re his, like he doesn’t know what to do with the way you undo him so effortlessly. 

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he murmurs, shaking his head, his lips curving into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s softer, tinged with something tender, something he’d never admit out loud, but you see it. You always see it. 

You grin up at him, releasing his thumb with a slow, wet pop, and tilt your head, your voice dripping with playful confidence. “That’d be a hell of a way to go, wouldn’t it?” 

He barks out a laugh, sharp and genuine, before cutting it off with another kiss, this one slower, deeper, more controlled. His hands roam your body, tracing every curve, every dip, committing you to memory. And then, with a low, gravelly whisper against your ear, he promises, “I’m gonna make sure you never wanna go a fuckin’ day without me.” 

And with the way his fingers slide between your thighs, teasing, coaxing, setting your skin on fire, you know he means it.

You whimper softly when his fingers find your clit, the pads of his calloused fingertips circling it with a touch that’s hesitant yet firm, like he’s still figuring out just how much pressure will make you shatter. “I wanna be good for you,” you whisper, voice soft, but there’s a weight behind your words—a promise, an invitation. Your hands slide over his broad shoulders, down the ridges of his chest, tracing over every defined muscle, every inch of skin that’s burning hot under your touch. You feel the way he tenses beneath you, the way his breath hitches just slightly, and it sends a shiver of satisfaction down your spine.  

Katsuki's fingers twitch against your clit, and you swear you feel him shudder. He swallows thickly, his crimson eyes flickering between your face and where his fingers are pressed against you, as if he’s trying to memorize every little reaction you give him. He’s hesitant—not because he doesn’t want this, but because he always wants to do it right. Because despite his rough edges, despite the sharp tongue, and the explosive temper, Bakugou Katsuki is meticulous when it comes to you. He treats your pleasure like a challenge he refuses to lose.  

But there’s something else simmering beneath the surface—something darker, more primal. His need to take something soft, something untouched, and leave his mark all over it. It’s that childhood troublemaker in him, that same part of him that probably kicked over sandcastles just to watch them crumble, the same part of him that grins whenever he makes a mess. Only now, you’re the sandcastle, and he wants to wreck you.  

Your breath hitches when he finally presses a little harder, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit. His other hand grips your thigh, his touch firm, grounding. “Yeah?” His voice is low, rough, filled with something almost smug but not quite. “You wanna be good for me?”  

You nod quickly, your fingers trailing over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. You know he likes the praise and craves it even if he won’t admit it, but he also loves hearing you submit like this, knowing that you’d do anything for him. And you would—you'd let him have all of you, let him ruin you completely if that’s what he wanted.  

He exhales through his nose, his smirk deepening. “Course you do,” he mutters, but there’s something almost affectionate in his teasing. His fingers move with more confidence now, rubbing slow and steady over your clit, watching your every reaction with laser focus. “You’re always so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you?”  

You whimper, pressing your thighs together, but his hand on your leg tightens, keeping you spread open. He doesn’t stop touching you, doesn’t let you escape the slow, devastating pressure of his fingers.  

Your nails dig into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself, but Katsuki doesn’t give you the chance to breathe. He leans in, lips brushing against your ear, voice dropping into something dark and velvety. “You always say the right shit to get me goin’,” he murmurs, his fingers dragging lower, teasing at your entrance before sliding back up. “Always runnin’ that smart fuckin’ mouth, and then you look at me like this—” He presses down harder on your clit, just for a second, making you gasp. “Like you need me.”  

You do. You need him so badly it’s almost painful, and he fucking knows it. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, see it in the way his eyes darken as he watches you squirm beneath him.  

Katsuki shifts, pulling his hand away, and you whine at the loss of contact. But before you can protest, he grabs your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to look at him. His grip isn’t rough, but it’s firm, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, pressing down just enough to make you part your lips for him.  

“That desperate, huh?” he taunts, his smirk widening as he watches your lips tremble. “You want it that bad?”  

You nod, your breath coming in short, shallow pants, but he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Nah, c’mon, baby, use that mouth. You were talkin’ real sweet just a second ago.”  

You swallow hard, trying to focus, but it’s difficult when he’s looking at you like this—like he’s already won, like you’re already his to break apart and put back together.  

“I want you,” you breathe, your voice shaking. “I want you to ruin me, Katsuki.”  

His eyes darken, something dangerous flashing through them, and you know you’ve just fed into that part of him, the part that loves to take something soft and make it his.  

Katsuki groans, his grip tightening for just a second before he lets go, shoving you back onto the bed. He moves fast, so fast it makes your head spin, settling between your legs, pressing his body against yours. His cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, and you can feel how hard he is, how much he wants this, wants you.  

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice strained as he looks down at you, his hands braced on either side of your head. “You don’t know what you do to me.”  

You smirk, your wit bubbling up even through the haze of arousal. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”  

Katsuki growls, but there’s amusement behind it, something fond beneath the frustration. “Smartass.”  

But he doesn’t give you a chance to retort—he leans down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, all heat and hunger and raw, unfiltered need. His hands are everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your waist, squeezing your thighs as if he can’t get enough of touching you.  

And then he’s lining himself up, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with slow, shallow thrusts that don’t give you nearly enough. He watches your face, drinking in every little twitch, every little gasp, his smirk widening as he sees how badly you need him.  

“Say it again,” he demands, his voice rough, possessive.  

Your fingers dig into his back, your body arching against him. “Ruin me, Katsuki.”  

His breath shudders out of him, and then, finally, he thrusts into you, stretching you open inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside you. The stretch is just enough to make you gasp, to make your nails rake down his back, but it’s perfect. He’s perfect.  

Katsuki groans, his forehead dropping to yours, his breath ragged. “Fuckin’ hell,” he growls, his fingers tightening on your hips. “You’re so—” He cuts himself off with a shaky breath, swallowing hard. “Shit, baby.”  

You feel him tremble slightly, like he’s holding himself back, trying not to lose control too soon. But you don’t want him to hold back. You want all of him.  

“C’mon, Katsuki,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “You can do better than that.”  

His eyes snap open, locking onto yours, and for a second, there’s nothing but silence between you. Then, his smirk returns, but this time, it’s sharper, more dangerous.  

“You really wanna test me, huh?”  

Before you can respond, he grips your hips and slams into you, knocking the breath from your lungs, making you cry out. He sets a brutal pace, his thrusts deep and demanding, every movement claiming you, leaving no room for doubt—no room for anything except the feeling of him, the way he fills you completely, the way his body moves against yours like he was made for this.  

He’s everywhere; consuming you; possessing you, and you let him. You want him to. Because there’s no one else who could ever make you feel like this. 

No one else who could ever ruin you so perfectly.

Your gasp is swallowed by the heat between you, your breath catching in your throat as Katsuki's hands find yours, his fingers threading through yours in a firm, grounding grip. His palms are rough, calloused from years of training, from battle, from holding power in his hands—and now he’s holding you, keeping you steady as he thrusts into you with deep, measured force. His grip tightens, squeezing your fingers just as his hips snap against yours, drawing a sharp, breathless moan from your lips. His forehead presses against yours, damp with sweat, his ragged breaths mingling with yours, the heat of his body searing into you.  

The pace he sets is relentless, every roll of his hips sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, your body arching to meet every thrust like you’re trying to take more of him, trying to pull him deeper. His cock stretches you perfectly, every inch dragging against your walls, hitting that devastating spot inside you that has your legs trembling around his waist. He watches you through half-lidded, lust-darkened eyes, his gaze flickering between your parted lips and the way your face twists in pleasure. His expression is one of pure, unfiltered possession—like he owns every moan that leaves your mouth, every shiver, every needy whimper that spills from your lips.  

"Fuck," he growls, voice rough and breathless, his grip on your hands tightening as if to anchor himself. "Say my name again."  

You barely have the presence of mind to respond, too lost in the feeling of him pounding into you, filling you over and over again, but you manage to whimper, "Katsuki—" your voice breaking on the last syllable as he thrusts particularly deep, your head tilting back against the pillow.  

A low, guttural groan rumbles from his chest, his lips brushing over your jaw as he presses himself impossibly closer, his body flush against yours, his weight pinning you down in the best possible way. He’s everywhere, surrounding you, his heat, his scent, the intoxicating mix of sweat and something inherently him flooding your senses. You feel drunk on him, utterly consumed, and he knows it. You can feel it in the way his body tenses, the way his hips jerk just a little more erratically, like he’s losing himself in you the same way you’re drowning in him.  

His hands, still clasped tightly around yours, suddenly push your arms above your head, pinning them to the mattress as he leans in, lips ghosting over your ear. "You're mine," he breathes, his voice low and wrecked, sending a shiver down your spine. His teeth graze your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "Say it."  

You barely manage a nod, your thighs tightening around his waist, desperate for more, desperate for all of him. "I'm yours," you gasp, and that’s all it takes for him to snap.  

Katsuki growls, something primal and desperate in the sound, and his pace turns brutal, his thrusts rough and deep, claiming you in every way possible. His hands are still wrapped around yours, fingers locked together, but there’s nothing gentle about the way he’s taking you now. It’s raw, all-consuming, his body demanding more, his need for you spilling over in the way he fucks into you like he’s trying to carve himself into you, like he never wants you to forget this—forget that you belong to him.  

Your moans are nothing but broken cries now, his name the only thing you can manage, gasping it into the air between you like a prayer. His lips crash against yours, messy and desperate, swallowing your sounds, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. He’s close, you can feel it—the way his thrusts are growing erratic, the way his breath stutters against your mouth, the way his hands squeeze yours so tight you’re sure he’ll leave marks.  

“Fuck—" he grits out, his whole body tensing, his hips slamming against yours in a final, deep thrust. And then he’s gone, lost to the overwhelming pleasure. His groan vibrates against your skin as he buries himself as deep as possible, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave—dragging you under with him. A sharp gasp escapes you as your own pleasure surges, legs trembling around his waist, eyes rolling back as the sensation overtakes you completely. You can feel the way he trembles above you, the way he breathes your name like it’s the only thing grounding him as he spills inside you, his body shuddering with the aftershocks.  

He stays there for a moment, his forehead still pressed against yours, his breath heavy and ragged, his body pressed tightly to yours as if he never wants to let go. Slowly, his grip on your hands loosens, his fingers uncurling, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he laces them together properly this time, softer, more deliberate, grounding himself in the warmth of your touch.  

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he exhales, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as he whispers, "You're mine." 

This time, it’s not a demand—it’s a promise.

"I only want to be yours," you whisper, your voice soft yet unwavering as your fingers uncurl around his and weave into his hair, tugging gently at the damp strands. Katsuki stills above you, his breath catching, and for a moment, everything slows. The heat between you lingers, but the intensity shifts—melting into something deeper, something raw and unguarded.  

His grip on your wrists loosens, fingers flexing as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with them now that the fire has simmered down. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing, and when he finally meets your gaze, his eyes are wide, uncertain. Vulnerable. It’s rare to see him like this, stripped of his usual brashness, his walls lowered just enough to let you see the boy underneath—the one who’s never really known how to handle tenderness without wanting to crush it in his hands.  

"You’re already mine," he mutters, but there’s no cocky edge to his voice, no smirk tugging at his lips. Instead, he says it like he’s trying to convince himself, like the idea of being wanted this much is still something he doesn’t know how to accept.  

You offer him a small smile, brushing your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly scratching against his scalp. He exhales shakily at the sensation, his body relaxing into your touch despite himself. You can feel the tension in his muscles ease, the weight of something unspoken lingering between you both.  

"You don’t have to act so tough with me," you murmur, tracing the shell of his ear, your touch featherlight. "I love you, Katsuki. All of you."  

His eyes dart away for a second, like he needs to escape the weight of your words, but you don’t let him. You tilt his face back toward you, catching his gaze and holding it, refusing to let him run from this—run from you.  

His jaw clenches, but then, with a slow inhale, he lets himself sink against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he lets go.  

"You fuckin’ ruin me," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your collarbone. But his hold on you tightens, contradicting his words.  

You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Good," you tease softly, earning a quiet huff from him.  

But he doesn’t pull away. He just stays there, breathing you in, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. 

And for once, Bakugou Katsuki lets himself be loved.

katsuki running his hands through your hair. you yell at him because he’s ruining your curls, but it feels too soft for him to stop. after a while you look in the mirror to see the fluffy mess he’s created, turning your head slowly to meet his gaze, face pouty and all. he decides to himself right then and there he’s never seen anything more precious. you decide he has 3 seconds to run before you get your hands on him.

"c'mere."

katsuki was so... normal all evening. so subdued. dinner with your friends was nice in a familiar, comfortably unremarkable way. everyone who gathered around the table at the restaurant had chatted happily, getting each other up to date on any developments in their personal or professional lives. jokes were made about the high school days, and failed romantic endeavours (mainly denki's), and tenya's new haircut that he doesn't quite like.

then the bills were paid, and rides were arranged, and katsuki walked you to the car with a hand on the small of your back.

it was normal. everyone was normal.

but now katsuki's like this.

he has you pinned up against the wall just inside the barely-closed door of your shared apartment before you can even take off your shoes. his mouth is hot on yours, licking messily into your mouth in a way that makes you dizzy.

"katsuki, wait—oh!" your head thumps back against the wall behind you as your boyfriend hitches one of your legs up around his waist and grinds the defined musculature of his upper thigh between yours.

"done waiting," he grunts out quietly against your parted lips, pressing your bodies even closer together.

this isn't like him; the freneticism, the almost stifling haste with which katsuki is trying to devour you. he's usually more reserved than this. more trepidatious. katsuki has always treated you like you were precious. too precious, you sometimes think. like an antique sake set made of porcelain so fine that it could shatter in a too-tight grip—like something he couldn't afford to break.

"what's gotten into you?" you ask as katsuki's mouth trails white-hot down your throat towards your collarbone, the kisses he presses against your skin searing as he moves on to the next.

his only answer is to slip his hands up underneath the skirt of your dress, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your thighs.

"katsuki!" you gasp in surprise as the cool air kisses the slickness of your newly-exposed skin.

the pad of katsuki's thumb brushes your clit, and your knees nearly buckle.

"katsuki, stop."

it's quiet after you push him away from you, the air heavy as you laboriously draw it into your aching lungs.

katsuki stands at arm's length, frozen in surprise. in spite of his strength—overpowering you in every possible physical way—he hadn't resisted you in the slightest when you instinctively pushed against him. if anything, he'd willingly taken the step back to give you the distance you need.

he looks at you though his lashes, his chin tucked down towards his chest, half-hurt and half-guilty.

"sorry," he says quietly, mumbled through pursed lips as he shuffles another half step back.

your hand shoots out towards him, grabbing him by the lapel of his unzipped jacket.

"hey," you say, equally quiet but less sheepish than his own words. "don't do that."

katsuki lets you pull him back into your space as effortlessly as you'd pushed him away. you like it when he's close like this. like when that soft, sweet sort of smell that always clings to him envelops you too.

"i'm happy to let you take off whatever article of my clothes you want, i'd just like to take my shoes off first," you say to him, so close your lips are almost brushing. the tops of katsuki's cheeks are rosy, and his lashes are fluttering as he listens to your words. you smile a little. "if that's not too much to ask."

katsuki helps you out of your heels, and then clings to you all the way down the hallway into your bedroom where the two of you go toppling into bed. your boyfriend is normally militant about not letting 'outside clothes' into the sheets, but he says nothing about either of your outfits on the soft cotton as he pulls your body on top of his.

but nothing about katsuki is normal tonight. you've already figured that much out.

you just can't quite understand why.

"you're raring to go tonight," you say with a laugh as katsuki's hands slip up under your dress again, this time with you ensconced upon his lap. your panties are somewhere in the genkan, so this time there's no barrier between his touch and your skin.

"what's wrong with that?" katsuki bites back, but even in his snark he's still soft with you. deftly, his hands slip around to the back of your dress, sitting up so the two of you are chest to chest in bed, and tugs the zipper of the garment down. the material slips down your arms until the dress is left pooled around your waist, nothing but your bare skin left on display. it's hard to make out the colour of katsuki's eyes in the dark, but it's impossible to miss the desire in his gaze as it traces over your newly exposed chest. "what's so wrong about me wanting you?"

you pause for a moment as you consider his unexpectedly earnest words. "there's nothing wrong with it," you finally reply, reaching up and tracing your fingers through the blonde hair at his temple. "it's just a little weird."

"weird?" katsuki echoes, but his repetition sounds incredulous.

he uses a hand on the small of your back—just like how he'd walked you to your car after dinner, but this time a bit more forceful—to pull your body back against his. you brace your hands on his shoulders as you sit in his lap, staring down at him.

"i've been in love with you since we were fifteen," katsuki says. it's ardent. insistent, even. like he's desperate for you to understand. "i've wanted you since we were fifteen. there's nothin' weird about it."

you blink. a little dumbstruck. a little lovesick.

and suddenly you understand his behaviour a little more. it's all a bit clearer.

you dip down, pressing a featherlight kiss to katsuki's lips. then another; deeper and longer.

"you were feeling nostalgic, huh?" you murmur breathlessly against katsuki's mouth, cupping his face between your palms. his cheeks are burning hot underneath your touch. it makes butterflies lick in the pit of your stomach.

you'd caught katsuki's eyes on you a few times tonight at dinner, but really hadn't thought much of it. at one point you'd moved seats to chat with momo about her upcoming wedding (and to admire the ring on her finger) and more than once you'd met katsuki's gaze from the other end of the table where he was seated with the boys.

katuski kisses the back of his teeth, tilting his face away from you slightly.

"fuckin'... izuku said something earlier that just..." he seems to be struggling to find the words. you give him the time he needs. "said some sappy shit about growin' up. about how we all ended up happy."

you feel a twinge in your chest as katsuki mumbles the admission. he's struggling to meet your gaze, and instead leans his forehead against your chest.

"and i looked at you across the table, 'n i just... i kept thinkin' about being a fifteen year old brat staring at you across a classroom. kept thinkin' about how he'd never believe it if i could tell him how we ended up."

it's quiet for a moment as katsuki holds you. and you hold him. the hot, hot flush of his face against your bare skin.

"fifteen-year-old you probably would've tried to kick thirty-year-old you's ass."

katsuki laughs, a warm wash of breath breaking against your skin.

"yeah, probably." he nods, finally lifting his head. he stares up at you, his hands patting gently up and down your back. he smirks a little. "woulda popped a boner at the thought of seein' you like this, too."

"so the two of you have that in common, huh?" you tease him, wiggling your hips a little in his lap where proof of your accusation presses against you.

katsuki kisses you to hide the smile on his face, twisting both of your bodies to lay you down against the soft sheets of your shared bed that katsuki dutifully launders every sunday. he slips your dress down your hips to leave you bare, and tugs his own t-shirt off to join it on the bedroom floor soon after.

"katsuki?"

the man suckling a bruise into your throat groans a little at your quiet call of his name. "if you push me away again i'm gon—"

"i love you too, y'know."

you feel him swallow hard, his face still tucked into the crook of your neck. his hands are trembling a little—just like the first time he touched you, a few years after graduation when your paths crossed again. you can feel his heart thundering in his chest.

your own beats just as loudly underneath it.

because fifteen year old katsuki wasn't the only one sneaking glances across the room. and katsuki isn't the only one who feels so grateful about how you two ended up happy together.

Bakugou answering a phone call as he’s getting fucked 👉👈

⊹ ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ divine agnes ! luv this one. m!reader ♡

katsuki really needed to get his shit together.

he had been staring at his ringing phone for a solid minute now, his fingers trembling as he reached for it, barely managing to hit the answer button before his body jerked involuntarily. his head is spinning, and all he could think about is—

“fuck—”

“bakugou?! what the hell, man? where have you been?” eijirou’s voice rang through the speaker, sharp with worry. “you haven’t shown up to work all week! we thought you got kidnapped!”

katsuki bit back a whimper, his head pressing into the pillows, jaw clenched so hard it ached. his body was burning, shaking, stretched, and full, and you—you were still moving.

slow.

deep.

deliberate.

you chuckled against his skin, lips brushing over his ear. “c’mon, ‘tsuki,” you murmur, rolling your hips—to the point that katsuki could feel the tip of your cock pressing so deep inside him it feels suffocating, making him shudder.

“talk.”

he sucked in a breath, forcing his voice steady. “the fuck are you guys so worked up for?”

“dude, are you serious?!” denki cut in, his voice high-pitched with panic. “you vanished! no patrols, no reports; your agency said you took a leave without even telling us! what the fuck is going on?!”

katsuki barely heard him—barely processed anything past the slow drag of your cock inside him, the unbearable heat curling in his gut. he tried to stay still, tried to keep his breathing even, but you were fucking impossible, pressing wet kisses to his jaw, hands gripping his hips, holding him down and taking your time, like you had all the patience in the world.

“‘tsuki,” you whispered, your voice dripping with amusement, fucking him just right—the way he wanted you to.

katsuki actually whimpered this time around.

he pressed the mute button on his phone, his whole body jerking, his thighs trembling. “you fucking bastard—“

you laughed, biting down on katsuki’s shoulder, sucking a mark into his skin. “go on, baby,” you told him, voice thick with mock sympathy. “answer your little friends.”

katsuki was gonna kill you.

he took a shaky breath, unmuting the call. “i’ve been busy,” he gritted out, his voice dangerously close to cracking. “what the fuck do you want?”

“busy doing what?! you never take this many days off, man; we were about to file a missing person’s report!” eijirou, bless his heart, sounded genuinely distressed. “are you okay? where are you?”

you thrust your hips forward. katsuki choked. all the words that were left on his tongue died out.

his hand flew to the mute button again, teeth sinking into his lip, his whole body tensing as you continuously abused his sweet spot. “shit—fuck—“

you smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to katsuki’s neck. “careful, ‘tsuki,” you purred. “don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

katsuki shook, his fingers digging into your arms, trying—desperately fucking trying—to hold himself together. “stop moving,” he hissed.

you continued your ministrations, rolling your hips in a slow, deep thrust that had katsuki thanking the gods to have given him a man to provide him such pleasure—even if it meant growing addicted to your cock snug in his ass.

“hm, no.”

“bakugou?!”

his eyes snapped open.

shit. shit.

he still hadn’t answered.

katsuki fumbled to unmute again, barely managing a “i’m fine!” before you snapped your hips again, forcing a broken gasp from his lips.

“…dude, are you sick?” denki asked, suspicious. “you sound—like, really weird.”

katsuki clenched his teeth, murder in his eyes as he glared at you. “i said i’m fine,” he growled, but it barely sounded convincing with how breathless he was.

you licked a stripe up his neck, grinning against his skin. “if you mean fine as in fine that you’re still clenching around my cock, then by all means, you’re right, ‘tsuki.”

katsuki hit you.

you just laughed, your thrusts slow and deep, making sure katsuki felt every inch of you.

“listen, man,” eijirou sighed. “just—just let us know if you need anything, okay? we’re here for you. just… don’t disappear on us like that again.”

katsuki barely managed to hum in response before you snapped your hips hard, and katsuki had to slap the mute button again, muffling a wrecked sob into your shoulder.

“you should thank them for worrying about you, baby,” you tease, your voice mocking as you thrust even deeper, making katsuki keen.

“be polite.”

katsuki’s hands shook.

he was going to kill you.

…right after he let you stuff him full again.

The first time you and Bakugou sleep in the same bed he gets hard from the feeling of your tits being pressed against his back.