bakugo fucking you after a heated argument would include…
screaming at each other until you’re toe to toe, both red-faced, chest heaving, too prideful to back down, and then it goes quiet. his jaw clenches. your lip trembles. and then he grabs you by the waist and slams you into the nearest wall.
he’s growling, “shut the fuck up,” right before he kisses you like he hates you. it’s teeth, tongue, bruising grip. his hands gripping your face like he’s scared you’ll disappear.
clothes? gone. ripped. thrown. he doesn’t have the patience to undress you gently. “you wanna talk shit, fine. but now you’re gonna take it. right fucking here.”
he’s forcing you to arch for him while he grinds into you hard, deep, and deliberate. one hand in your hair, the other on your hip, and he’s pounding into you like he’s trying to stake his claim all over again.
he’s muttering filth into your ear mid-thrust. “you think you can talk to me like that and not get fucked stupid? tch. gonna learn real fuckin’ fast who you belong to.”
he’s gripping your throat to hold you still. watching your eyes go wide as he fucks you harder and smirks, “you wanna scream? do it. let the whole building know who’s fucking you this good.”
he’s calling you out while fucking you dumb. “what was that earlier? huh? all that mouth—where is it now, princess?”
him putting you in a mating press just to make you shut up. your legs folded, his body flush against yours, face buried in your neck as he groans, “can’t stay mad at you when you’re wrapped around me like this…”
he’s gripping your ass, fucking you through your orgasm, and still not stopping. “nah, don’t cry now. you wanted this. you asked for it the second you raised your fuckin’ voice at me.”
aftercare that’s quiet but full of guilt. he doesn’t always say it, but you feel it in the way he wipes your tears, kisses your forehead, and growls, “don’t leave me over dumb shit. i’m sorry. you piss me off but i fuckin’ love you.”