wet dream (bakugou x reader)
| summary: you’re not supposed to have a horny dream about one of your classmates, until you do.
| warnings: explicit language, wet dream, rough sex, one use of good girl
You never talked to Bakugou Katsuki.
You wouldn’t think or want to either; he was just another one of your twenty classmates, and one of the more annoying ones at that. Here you were in your third year of Hero school and he was still just as annoying as the first. He was arrogant, and loud, and clearly a narcissist with anger issues when things didn’t go his way. Sure, he was strong and talented, and clearly destined for success but that’s not enough for you to change your mind and think he’s a nice person. You had no idea how he had such cool, kind friends surrounding him all the time.
You and Bakugou never talked except for the rare, small excuse me when he and Kirishima are being assholes and blocking the classroom door, or a thanks when he frees up the gym equipment you need - meaningless, NPC interactions like that. So, you never gave him a second glance. You know you’re a blurred extra in his life too. His name shouldn’t even be in your thoughts.
So, what was this? Why are you thinking all this about him right now?
What was that?
You sat up in bed the second you woke up, sweating and breathing heavily as if you’d actually been there. One of those naughty dreams. Except, it’s still running so vividly in your mind that you smack your head over and over again, “What the fuck was that?! Stop it!” You scream at yourself. Yes, because it’s that traumatic!
Yet, your core is throbbing with an achy need for relief. Your floral blankets are messy and wrapped around your legs and you hastily kick them away from you to get rid of any more sinful friction. It’s hot. It’s so hot. Your face must have a fiery red glow because it’s entirely too hot.
You feel so dirty.
The usual faceless person who had been giving you some type of pleasure had been morphed into your classmate, and not just any classmate, but the meanest, loudest one you’ve secretly disliked since your first week of school.
Bakugou had fucked you in your dreams.
And you had enjoyed it.
How could you change what you superficially thought of as pointless rage into raw passion? Those terrifying blood hungry eyes could be a piercing gaze of dark maroon? His grunts, his growls, his powerful hits were exchanged for powerful thrusts, and his crude mouth that was usually swearing out naughty words was filtered through radio loops and warp holes into some type of dirty talk.
“God, you’re so…fucking…tight.” It was your classmate, Bakugou. His blond hair spiking in all directions, but looking softer than usual. His fingers dug into the plushiest part of your thighs as his brows knit in total concentration, eyes focused darkly at where he had dug himself to the hilt, your bodies connected with the sleekness of juices. You didn’t know why or how your classmate was between your legs but you didn’t care. He didn’t look like the angry boy from class - this was a god who had your cunt fluttering for him.
Merciless, he started at a brutal pace, gripping your thighs as handles to steady your body as he rocked himself into you with just as much power as he showed on the field. It felt so good. Bakugou had a mean dick.
“Why the fuck’re you clenchin’ down? You like…hah…getting slutted out?” Right now, you did. All you wanted was to feel good. Your back arched off the surface below you, a bed - his bed? - asking for more.
“You’re a needy one. Shit-” He pressed you into the mattress, wrapping his hands on your neck to keep you still when he started pounding you at an unholy pace that made you half-regret acting like that. But still, it felt good. Your arms came around his back to hold onto something while the pit in your core was blissfully stroked every second, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god, Bakugou,” all you cared about was the pleasure you were feeling, “Your dick is so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” His voice was deeper than anyone you’ve ever heard, “Betcha I can make this little pussy cry for my dick. That’s it, scratch me. Oh, fuck yes,” You couldn’t refuse his order when his husky voice was moaning like that, when you could feel the tremors in your pussy, when his thumb came to your clit and began to rub it like he owned it.
Even fucking you, Bakugou was giving it his all, fucking your brains out. “Good girl, taking my cock so well,” you’ve never even heard him praise someone else so hearing him call you his good girl, seeing that you were also pleasuring him, it did something to you. He was overwhelming and so rough and he was so proud you were managing it, it’s no wonder you melted and spread your legs for him.
“It’s so deep, it feels too good,” you moaned back with a crack in your voice, divinely transfixed by the look on this new face of his.
Bakugou’s thrusts were becoming sporadic, fast and hard hits on the space between your legs that was still throbbing. “Fuck yes, FUCK yess…want it inside? Beg me to cum in this pretty hole. C’mon, fucking BEG.” It didn’t help that he sounded like the one begging for you.
“Please do it inside me, please cum in me. Make me cum.”
His face scrunched together, his jaw slack and panting as ruby eyes were locked on you. So pretty, so hot, and unlike anything you’ve ever seen, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh FU -”
The space between your legs felt messy, slick, nasty.
Getting into your morning routine, you made yourself a zombie.
Were you seriously that horny last night?
Of all people - Bakugou? The idea of that mean blond anywhere near you should’ve given you the ick but now you’re doing your makeup and making a face when, unfortunately, you think, He’s hot.
But why him? You’re not friends, you don’t even talk to each other.
Why did some random guy have to show up in your sex dream? Was it because yesterday, you couldn’t stop staring at him jogging into the locker room. He had swiped his shirt off over his head in one yank, a delicate, lean waist with his larger, sweat-shiny chest out and bouncing? And then afterwards, right when you were going into the classroom, that same man had bumped into you, too busy talking with Todoroki to see you. He was all hard and bulky, versus you - soft and physically one of the weakest people in class - but you didn't even comprehend almost falling back because a hand gripped your arm and balanced you off to the side as he still walked past you. He didn’t even glance at you. Meanwhile, you had rushed to your seat in the back, face warm and kind of…impressed.
Truly, you were disturbed.
How were you supposed to walk into class today and see him?