Suddenly imagined leading on a guy you've been seeing by making out with him after your dates and abruptly stopping to tell him that you're gonna go home and think about him when you masturbate and then you just leave him high and dry. And of course one day he snaps and fingers you outside of your home bc you've been teasing him too much
"Someone's gonna see," you whisper with worry, trying to peek over his broad shoulder to look around the neighborhood.
"Let them," he grumbles into your ear, hiking your leg up higher on his waist so he can stuff a third finger inside you. He smirks when you mewl at the stretch. "You like that? You like being filled up?"
"Uh-huh," you whine, high and needy. He hums against your cheek, pressing a kiss there.
"I could fill you up so well, Y/N, hit every spot you like inside you. I could make you feel so good."
You moan his name when he curls his fingers, his palm rubbing against your clit as he thrusts the digits inside of you. You can feel yourself leaking down your thigh.
"I could make you cum as much as you want, could go all night if you wanted. I'd do anything to make you feel good."
"Please," you whisper harshly, digging your nails into his shoulders. "I'm so close."
"Let me give you what you need, darling."
He keeps his pace and technique, hitting the same spot inside you that makes your toes curl. Other guys would've sped up or fucked something up, but your boyfriend is consistent, just what you needed.
God, you should've done this sooner. The orgasm creeping up on you is going to be big. You vaguely pray that his dick could make you feel just as good as you topple over the edge, tucking your face into his shoulder to muffle your moans.
He guides you through it, massaging your cunt as you flutter down. He pulls out his fingers and begins sucking them clean, moaning low.
God, you need him. You need him so badly. You'll even fuck him on your porch, you don't care anymore. You just need his cock buried deep inside you, thrusting wildly and meticulously until you're braindead.
When you go to palm his cock, he grabs your wrist. You pout as he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, then leaning forward to press a tender kiss to your temple. He lets you go and turns away, stepping down off your porch.
"W-Wait—"
"Sorry, dear," he says, looking back at you. "I promise to think about you when I masturbate later."
Virgin bkg who’s so painfully stupid but acts so arrogant. And when it’s getting heated and you’re making out and want to see his dick… he gets all shy and embarrassed because he doesn’t know if it looks normal or as good as the other ones you’ve seen. When you ask what’s wrong he tells you it’s curved and you think it’s like BENT then he lets you see and it’s the prettiest most orgasm inducing upward curve you’ve ever seen on a dick.
bakugou katsuki knows why he is a virgin. it’s pretty simple really despite the fact he is surrounded by beautiful women often. socialites, the new buzzing influencers, actors and pro heroes like.
it’s because he’s obsessed with his job. always has been. since he was a child who was dreaming of becoming a hero, to his teenage years fighting wars to now in his early twenties, working towards becoming number one.
women and mostly importantly, getting his dick wet, has never been number one on his list of priorities. sure he’d go to film premiers for that hero franchise he loves, occasionally a gorgeous woman would talk to him.
but the thing about growing up uninterested in sex and the only women around him being his friends that share the same heroic goals… well bakugou has never been very good at flirting. which again, was mostly okay since he would just walk away when a woman was about to talk to him.
until he met you that is. the first woman to make him dream of more, that made him unable to get through a shower without tugging one out to the thought of you. that during patrols, he’d think about texting you. what are you up to? where are you? when the hell can he kiss you next?
anyone is experienced compared to bakugou. he’s kissed a girl once in his third year of ua. he’s made out with two in his early twenties.
but now at twenty six this is first time having a woman in his apartment, on his bed, on his lap. he feels like a rabid animal. unsure where to put his hands with the desperate need to touch everywhere so he leaves them on the globes of your ass, squeezing every few seconds when all the feelings inside of him gets intense.
he knows he’s flushed red. he knows his dick is hard and you can feel it through your leggings. but you’re so perfect, leading the moment, letting him react however the hell he wants.
bakugou releases a loud moan when you stick your tongue down his throat, breasts pressed against his chest like you want to live in his skin. he’s never felt a woman like this before, he feels as if the word virgin is in capital letters printed onto his forehead.
he hasn’t told you directly he is but he thinks you know.
“you’re so… fuck. this is so fucked up,” he breathes into your mouth and your fingers rake up into the hair on his nape.
your grin makes his heart skip a beat, falter slightly and he swears he gets winded.
you’re out of breath, chest heaving and your pussy is a centimetre away from sitting on his cock.
“why’s it fucked up? you okay?” you brush your nose against his softly, smoothing out his eyebrow with your thumb. “you look hot, do you want to take your top off?”
you’re being so sweet to him and he appreciates it, he does. but as soon as he knows what he’s doing he’s gonna treat you right. properly.
for now, he’s just worried he doesn’t have what it takes.
“oh, err, fuck. sorry, yeah i will,” he mumbles to you, yanking off his white tee from the neckline.
bakugou enjoys how your eyes glow, scanning his half naked body like it’s something you can eat. your hands immediately flatten against his chest. down his toned abdomen. up to his fat squishy pectorals. he’s never had someone touch him like this. he couldn’t be harder.
“you don’t have to apologise, you know. this is new for us both.”
“you’re not the fuckin’ virgin here.” he bites, “i’ve never even had a woman in my room.”
he can tell you like that idea. you inch closer to him on his lap, your hands are back on his shoulders. you brush your lips over his.
“i don’t know how. look at you.”
and you’re back to making out with him. slower this time. tasting all the flavour from his tongue.
you softly bite down on his bottom lip and like a ring of the doorbell, bakugou opens up to let you in. it’s wet peck after wet peck, tilting your head to taste more of him. he’s eager, too eager ducking closer to you, as to not waste any time with your lips off his. you can only think that if he kisses with this much passion, you’re dying to know how he’d fuck.
bakugou tightly grips your ass and without meaning to, he shoves you directly onto his cock.
you mewl like a cat, hips grinding down onto him like you can’t help it. “you feel so good, ‘tsuki.”
you feel good because of him. him.
your tongue sneaks into his mouth, twirls and brushes against his. he learns quickly, you’ll give him that. his tongue dances against yours, licking up everything you offer. you feel his body vibrate, his dick twitch. you begin sucking on his tongue and that’s when he releases a harsh grunt. you’re soaked.
“let me see it.” you palm his cock through his shorts, “let me see.”
bakugou opens his eyes, pulls away from your mouth for a moment.
“i… fuck.” he’s back to mumbling. then stupidly, he looks down at the lump in his fabric.
“you… you don’t have to?” you offer, unsure about his wide eyes, “we can keep kissing?”
“it’s just that… it’s just….,” bakugou looks up to the ceiling.
he’d love for you to touch him, do anything to him but nobodies seen his dick before. sure he’s seen some porn videos and he’s never seen a dick like his in them. he’s googled and nothing said there’s anything particularly wrong about his.
but what if you find it weird, what if it puts you off him completely?
“talk to me, baby,” you push, laying a kiss on his jaw. then making a line down his neck. “wanna make you feel good.”
he’d like that.
“listen. seriously.”
you pull off him at that, sitting up on his lap, your hands at his waist. he is stupidly gorgeous. puffy pink lips because of you. his long straight eyelashes. his beautiful cheekbones and that eyebrow slit.
“i’m listening. tell me anything.” you soften your tone, trying to get the horny out your eyes. your tits are basically spilling out your vest top and you don’t miss bakugou’s pupils darting to from them every few seconds.
“i think…. i…”
you don’t speak.
katsuki takes a deep breath. he almost shouts without meaning to. “nobody has seen my dick before but me. right?”
you nod with a frown, unsure where this is going. “okay. nothing’s wrong with that.”
bakugou winces. he isn’t built for this. he’s always been attractive physically. his body works better than the average. can run at speed, stealthy, built for hero work. his quirk is best of the best and is only getting stronger by the day. but using it for sex? that’s something he’s got no clue about.
“it might not be normal lookin’? like it works fine, i’ve never had any problems with it? but it might be odd for you.”
you’re immediately imagining the worst. it’s not small. you felt it a second ago between your legs. heck, you’ve seen it when he walks around in those stupid grey joggers. oddly coloured, oddly shaped? is it too big?
“what’s wrong?” you tilt your head.
his whole face is flushed. a beautiful pink to the apples of his cheeks. you would kiss them if he wasn’t so serious right now.
he closes his eyes, leans his head back on his headboard. his hands stay on your thighs. you tap his chest.
“c’mon tell me.”
he exhales sharply.
“my dick is fuckin’ curved. to the left. i don’t know why.” he blurts, embarrassment written all over him, “it’s always been like that.”
for him to be this stressed about it, it must be abnormal. is it like a hook? you’ve seen one like that on one of those medical reality shows. would it be able to go inside if you? you so badly want him inside of you.
you shrug. you can’t imagine anything about this man being less than perfect. “it can’t be that bad, baby.”
you rub his chest soothingly but his face doesn’t soothe you one bit.
“i’m fuckin’ sorry. i brought you here and we’re goin’ so well and—,”
“let me see. let me see your dick, c’mon,” you smile softly.
you sink your hand to touch his crotch again.
“you sure? i don’t want you to be put off me like i’m a freak—,”
“katsuki. come on.”
it’s in slow motion. you mouth immediately start salivating, his hands grip the elastic waistband of his shorts. he pulls them down in one go with his underwear.
“oh katsuki. baby…. honey.”
this man has nothing to worry about. bakugou katsuki has on him, a cock they can rival your favourite dildos. it curves to the left, a smooth pleasing curve that you already know will hit your softest spots. you swallow your spit, your hands inching up his thighs. it’s darker at the base, twitching under your attention with two round balls (one a little larger than the other) at the bottom.
he is hefty. heavy. thick like a three trunk with veins darting up the sides. you imagine the weight of it in your mouth. the deep pinkish purplish head on your tongue. most of all, you imagine it curved inside, pushing a sweet orgasm out of you.
of course, this big idiot didn’t know what he had on him. part of you wants to lie, never let him know how good he has it so he doesn’t go around sharing his goods. but you need to, it’s written all over your face.
“you must be joking, katsuki,” you hum, delighted. you run your finger down his shaft.
his hips jolt, eyes lazing slightly from your attention. he’s so hard it’s getting painful.
“what? what? spit it out.”
“you need to fuck me. doesn’t have to be now but someday. you have to.” you whine, “you don’t get it at all.”
“what? it’s not a problem? this okay with you?” he stutters, unable to keep a steady head as you sink down the bed to rest your chest on his legs. now you’ve got your face right in front of his dick, as if you’re measuring the curve by degrees.
you want to lick him.
“you’ve got a pornstar dick. a dick they base dildos off of,” you breathe. the look in your eye is wild, untamed. “you’d feel amazing. even if you don’t know how to use it. you need let me bounce on it.”
bakugou blinks down at you. he doesn’t quite believe what he’s hearing, fuck, he doesn’t know what to do about you. not one bit did he think you’d even have this reaction.
“w-what… i know how to use my own dick.” is all he can manage but you shake your head.
you flick your eyes up to him, “we’re gonna learn together, okay? can i… can i…” you give him one lick up his shaft.
bakugou’s sure he’s about to come any second now.
“y-yes but be fuckin’ careful. i don’t wanna nut on your face.”
I think bkg likes to fuck with your ankles on his shoulders and he likes to give one of them a little kiss when you’re crying for him so perfectly :)
nods nods i think he has a tendency to just fold you up underneath him because he like to be as close to you as possible, see your face when it scrunches and twists with pleasure. if you’re crying it’s because you’re overwhelmed with the intensity, katsuki will start trailing kisses from your ankles and down your thighs as he moves to press your knees into your breasts and kiss all the way up to your cheeks :( nuzzling his nose against yours, breathy praise rolling over your wet lips as his hips smack into yours deep and passionately
Katsuki gets stood up at a restaurant far too expensive for disappointment.
Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the city, stretching glittering lights across the glass like spilled gold. The soft clink of silverware and low jazz humming through the speakers blurred into background noise the longer he sat there.
His phone stayed face down near the edge of the table. No new messages. No apology. Nothing.
Weeks ago, maybe this would've pissed him off more. Maybe he would've called. Sent another text. Asked where the hell she was.
Now?
He just looked tired.
Arms folded loosely across his chest, he stared out beyond the skyline with the detached calm of someone who'd already mourned the relationship long before tonight officially killed it. This dinner had been a final courtesy. One last attempt at doing things face to face instead of hiding behind a screen.
She didn't show.
That told him enough.
Two tables over, you sat tucked into the corner booth with a half-finished bottle of wine and a growing irritation aimed directly at your manager.
Three glasses in had left a pleasant warmth swimming through your body —enough to soften the sharp edges of your mood without pushing you anywhere near sloppy. You needed the quiet. Needed one night where nobody hovered. No stylists. No security. No cameras catching you stepping out of a car.
Just good food and space to breathe.
Your wig tonight was good. Really good. The kind that blended so naturally nobody would second guess it. Paired with the black long sleeve dress hugging your figure and the dangerously short pleated skirt. You looked less like a celebrity avoiding attention and more like the kind of woman people stared at accidentally.
Knee-high boots under the table crossed neatly at the ankle as you lifted your wine glass to your lips again. outfit here <<
And unfortunately for him, you noticed him immediately.
Blonde.
Beautiful in an unfair kind of way.
The type of man who looked expensive without trying.
Your gaze drifted toward the single yellow rose and an envelope propped up on a candle sliding back up to his face.
Oh.
He got stood up.
A small crease pulled between your brows. That almost never happened to men who looked like him.
Leaning forward, your elbow pressed against the table while your cheek rested lazily against your palm, eyes lingering and then—
He looked over.
Red eyes met yours instantly. Tired at first. Distant. Before the realization settled that someone had been staring.
And not just someone.
His attention caught briefly on your half-lidded gaze before lowering —burgundy under gloss stained lips. The delicate jewelry resting against your throat. The way your posture somehow stayed elegant even folded over the table like that.
Pretty wasn't enough of a word.
What threw him more was the familiarity crawling at the back of his mind. Like he'd seen you somewhere before.
Not enough for him to place.
Just enough to itch at the back of his mind.
Then you smiled.
Small. Knowing. The corner of your burgundy lips curling around the rim of your wine glass like you caught him slipping.
He cleared his throat immediately, dragging his gaze back toward the windows before he embarrassed himself.
Cute.
You finished the rest of your glass in one slow sip before setting it down gently against the tablecloth.
And before your brain could talk you out of it —your body moved first, delicate fingers folding around the handle of your matching purse.
The short walk between your tables suddenly felt louder than the entire restaurant. Boots clicking softly against the floor until you stopped beside him.
Up close, he looked even worse for your sanity.
Broad shoulders folded into the back of the chair. Blond hair slightly messy from his hands dragging through it all night. Those red eyes sharper this close —deep ruby under the dim lighting, intense enough to make most people nervous.
You liked that right away.
“Waiting on someone?” you asked softly.
Not teasing and not innocent either.
He looked up at you, visibly caught off guard by the fact you were speaking to him at all.
“Not anymore,” he answered after a second, rubbing the back of his neck.
A quiet laugh slipped from you. “Bummer.”
And before he could even process what was happening, you sat on the chair next to him. One leg crossed smoothly over the other, body turned completely toward him like he suddenly had your full attention and no-one else in the room mattered.
That nearly did him in right there.
Because beautiful women existed —obviously.
But women like you didn't just walk across restaurants and place themselves into a stranger’s night like this.
Not willingly.
Not looking at them like that.
His gaze flickered over you before he could stop it. The fitted black fabric hugging your body. The pleated skirt riding dangerously high once you crossed your legs. The faint shine of sheer stockings.
Every detail about you felt expensive.
intentional.
“And you…” His voice roughened slightly before he cleared it. “What about you?” -then your perfume hit him fully. Warm. Addicting. Feminine in a way that settled low in his stomach almost instantly.
Jesus Christ.
He forced himself to focus.
You tilted your head thoughtfully at the question, fingers tracing slowly around the rim of an untouched water glass.
“Just looking for a distraction.”
The eye contact never broke once.
And that answer combined with the way you said it nearly made him forget how to think. His ears warmed despite himself.
“That so?” he asked carefully, though the slight challenge in his tone betrayed him.
Because part of him still didn’t believe this was real. Didn’t believe someone who looked like you would willingly sit here flirting with him while his ex technically still occupied the back of his mind like unfinished paperwork.
You hummed softly before letting your gaze drag over him again.
“Hard to believe someone who looks as good as you got stood up.”
A grin tugged at your lips.
“She’s gotta be a bitch.”
For the first time all night —he laughed.
Low and genuine.
And somehow that sound felt more rewarding than it should’ve. It finally broke the tension between you. He leaned back slightly, a low laugh slipping out of him as he rubbed at his jaw.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “M’not so good at picking nice ones it seems.”
You smiled into your glass at that.
Cute.
“Gonna ask you a couple questions.”
His brow lifted.
“Just keep your answers simple, k?”
Something about the way you said it made his stomach tighten.
He nodded once, shifting in his chair slightly. “Alright.”
Your eyes flicked toward the envelope propped up next to candle.
“What’s in there?”
“A check.”
Short answer.
Just like you asked.
“Drove here?” you asked.
“Yeah.”
“You a good driver?”
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth this time. “Better than most.”
"Occupation?"
"Aerospace engineer"
You hummed approvingly.
“Name?”
“Katsuki.”
The way you repeated it almost sounded obscene. “Mmm… Katssuukiii.” The syllables melted right off your tongue smooth and slow, he physically felt the effect of it somewhere deep in his chest.
Or maybe lower.
His tongue dragged briefly across his bottom lip before he caught himself.
“And yours?”
You gave him a fake name easily.
Your finger tapped once against the stem of a wine glass before your gaze dragged slowly back to him.
“Think you could lift me?”
He actually scoffed at that.
Not cocky.
Certain.
“Easily,” he said. “One hand too.”
That made your smile widen properly for the first time tonight.
God.
He almost stopped breathing over something as small as that.
You leaned back on the chair after that, crossing your arms loosely beneath your chest while still facing him.
The movement alone nearly distracted him.
Then came the dangerous part.
Your lashes lowered slightly as you looked up at him.
“Wanna leave here?”
He held your gaze.
“with me?” you added softly.
His throat worked around a swallow as his eyes flicked down to your lips for the first time all night without immediately looking away after.
He was trying so hard to keep it together.
Trying to stay smooth. Calm. Unaffected.
Meanwhile you were sitting beside him looking like temptation dressed in black fabric and glossy lips.
“Yeah,” he answered finally, voice lower now.
— — -- -- -
The restraint he carried all night cracked open the moment you stepped into his domain. Palms firm beneath your thighs hauling you up against him like he’d been thinking about it the entire drive home.
A startled laugh barely left your mouth.
God.
Your pulse fluttered instantly as you wrapped your legs around him. You pressed open-mouthed kisses against his neck just to feel the way his breathing broke.
His mouth found yours too, rough kisses pressing against sensitive skin hard enough to make your head tip back.
“katsuki”
He grunted softly at the sound of his name falling from your lips like that. He held you with embarrassing ease while he walked you deeper into the apartment.
You loved that.
Loved the confidence in it.
The way he handled you like he already knew you liked being moved around. Like he knew pretty girls like you got dizzy over strength.
By the time the edge of his desk hit the backs of your legs, your breathing had already gone uneven, barely giving you a second to recover before his hands were undoing the zipper to your boots.
He turned you around so quickly it made your head spin.
One second you were facing him — the next your front was pressed against the desk, trapped between the solid edge of it and the heat of his body crowding close behind you.
A breath caught in your throat.
His hands moved slowly this time.
Deliberately.
Sliding over your shoulders and down your arms like he was taking his time learning every inch of you beneath his palms before settling firmly at your hips.
Then he bent you over.
The position alone nearly made your knees weaken.
He paused there for a second just to look at you.
And fuck.
You looked unreal like this.
Spread out beneath the low office lighting, skirt pushed up your thighs, breathing uneven already from how easily he handled you.
A rough sound left him before he dropped to his knees behind you, fingers hooking impatiently into your stockings.
The fabric tore under his hands without much effort.
His gaze darkened slowly the higher the ripped material disappeared down your legs, revealing flashes of warm skin until finally—
Bright red lace.
Already damp.
The sight made him still for half a second.
Of course your panties were red.
His favorite color.
The sight pulls something dangerous from him.
A low sound.
Satisfied.
His mouth dragged along the inner parts of your thigh —greedy with it, like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to kiss it or ruin you first.
“Open,” he demanded.
And your body obeyed before your brain even caught up.
A satisfied sound rumbled low in his throat at how quickly you listened.
God, he liked that.
Liked the way your thighs opened without hesitation the second his hands touched you. The heat of his fingers spread across the backs of your thighs before gripping tighter, pulling your pussy lips further apart for him with an ease that made your pulse flutter embarrassingly fast.
The first touch of his mouth made your breath catch.
Then sharp inhale tore from your chest as he kissed you deeply, taking his time like he wanted to taste every reaction he pulled from you. The pleased hum he let out afterward sounded almost distracted. Like he couldn’t believe how much he liked this already.
“Katsuki…” you breathed shakily, fingers scrambling against the desk as he pressed another heated kiss against your clit.
The sound of his name nearly made him lose his mind.
His hands spread wider against your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted while his mouth worked lower again. Impatient now, like he’d spent too long imagining this during the drive home and couldn’t hold himself back anymore.
He glanced up once —just once —your head tipped back as another breathless sound slipped from you, fingers tightening against the desk while the warmth of his mouth and the rough drag of his hands sent heat spiraling through your stomach.
“Fuck,” he muttered, half under his breath.
Not even trying to sound smooth anymore.
The shaky inhale.
Your thighs twitching
The way your hips kept trying to chase more from him.
Another low, satisfied sound vibrated from his chest as his hands slid higher up your ass, keeping you spread like he's sure he's found that spot. He sucks at your clit and dips his tongue inside over and over. Flicking it faster and faster until you unravel in front him in real time.
The breathless little sounds slipping out every few seconds like you couldn’t stop them.
“katsss…” you hissed weakly.
That finally pulled him back up.
Yeah.
He really fucking liked hearing that.
You turned your head just enough to look over your shoulder and nearly lost your mind at the sight of him.
His lips were swollen. Chin damp.
And somehow the sight of a man like him looking ruined because of you made heat curl low in your stomach all over again.
Pretty girls usually acted nervous under attention like this.
You didn’t.
You just looked wrecked already.
The size of him alone made anticipation twist tightly in your stomach. Your thighs pressed together unconsciously at the sight of him palming his cock.
He noticed immediately.
A rough smirk tugged briefly at his mouth before fading again, attention dropping lower like he was admiring the exact effect he had on you.
God, you were eager.
“Open f’me,” he said low.
The roughness in his voice sent heat straight through you.
Your body obeyed instantly.
He liked that far too much.
He dragged his cock slowly over the mess he’d already made of you. Focused. Concentrated. Like he was trying to burn the sight into his memory.
The other hand held firmly on your ass before gripping it and pulling you apart again. You glanced back just in time to catch the way his jaw tightened, the subtle twitch in his expression betraying just how badly he was trying to stay composed.
The first push of him forward knocked the breath clean from your lungs. Fingers gripping the desk harder as the sheer intensity of him overwhelmed your thoughts all at once.
Too much in the best possible way.
Behind you, he let out a strained sound through clenched teeth, head dropping briefly forward like he felt it just as hard.
“Fuck…” he breathed.
Low. Blissed out.
The warmth. The tightness. The way your body reacted to him instantly—
When he finally moved again, the reaction ripped matching sounds from both of you almost instantly.
Your head tipped back. His grip now on your hips tightened hard enough to keep you still when your body tried chasing more on instinct and that was apparently all the encouragement he needed.
His pace turned rougher immediately —not sloppy, not rushed — precise. Like he was learning your body in real time and already figuring out exactly which movements pulled those sounds from you.
A strained groan slipped from him as one hand tightened hard against your hip while the other slid upward, fingers threading into your hair before gripping firmly.
The pull arched your back beautifully.
“God damnit…” he hissed under his breath.
You’re warm. Tight. Responsive. Completely gone for him already.
You felt so good it was genuinely starting to mess with his head. The way your body kept tightening around him. The breathless sounds breaking apart every few seconds. How pretty you looked bent over his desk taking exactly what he gave you.
It was driving him insane.
“You like that?” he asked low, almost teasing but his voice barely sounded controlled anymore.
Before you could answer, his hand tightened in your hair again, guiding your head back while his rhythm stayed devastatingly exact —deep enough to keep pulling shaky gasps from your chest over and over.
Then something shifted.
A strange looseness against his hand.
At first neither of you noticed.
You were too lost in the feeling of him. Too consumed by the overwhelming heat twisting through your body.
But the next pull felt different.
Lighter.
His movements slowed slightly, brows furrowing as something soft slipped loose through his fingers.
Your wig came off completely.
Time stopped.
The room fell dead silent outside of both your uneven breathing.
His pace slowed.
Stopped.
Blonde strands mixed with auburn tumbled down as your real hair spilled over your shoulders, highlights catching beneath the dim office lighting.
He stared at it first.
Then at you.
And suddenly every blurred thought in his head started crashing together all at once.
Your voice.
Your face.
The familiarity that’d been clawing at him since the restaurant.
The hair.
Auburn and blonde streaks from your most recent photoshoot.
His entire body went still.
Then he says it... The sound of your real name leaving his mouth made anxiety slam into your chest instantly.
He’d already pulled back completely now, letting the wig slip from his hand onto the floor while he stared at you like his brain physically could not catch up.
Fuck fuck fuck.
This had literally never happened before but then again, you've never done this before either. You weren’t supposed to be recognizable tonight.
But your real hair framed your face now —unmistakable beneath the office lighting —and judging by the look on his face?
He knew exactly who you were.
Not just recognized.
Knew.
His realization hit harder when he pulled back completely, he stared at you like his brain physically could not process what was happening.
And honestly?
Neither could yours.
Your stomach twisted hard enough to make your body tense involuntarily.
“Shit,” he muttered immediately, stepping back.
He looked even more overwhelmed now than he did before. His chest rose sharply with each breath while one hand dragged through his messy blonde hair, ruby eyes fixed entirely on your face like looking away would somehow make this less real.
“I knew you looked familiar,” he said finally.
Quiet.
Dazed.
an: fuck I loved this… 100 likes and ill drop part 2 tomorrow
Sorry my ass is always in here but you portray my thoughts so well ahem.
AND sometimes he will stay like three feet back or let you go first on the stairs so he can watch your ass move when you walk…
this is bkg btw guys he’s an ass admirer and dare i say,, eater 🤔
⋆˙⟡ always walks behind of you bc it’s safer of and he can protect you - not cus he can stare at your ass and make sure no one else is
⋆˙⟡ if he’s walking next to you he’s got a hand on your lower back and slides its down to your ass or into your jean pocket
⋆˙⟡ hugs with him are divine like bear hugs and he always ends it with the cutest pats to your ass
⋆˙⟡ if there’s a set of stairs he must be behind you cus there’s no way he’s letting anyone else see all that
⋆˙⟡ when you’re laying in bed on your tummy he lays in between your legs and uses your ass as a pillow
and usually laying on your ass like that turns into him pulling down your sleep shorts, lifting you up on your knees and eating you out. he’ll drag your slick up to your tight little hole with his tongue and circle it over and over while he fingers you. the little sounds you make when he pushes his tongue past the tight ring always make his cock throb.
and once you cum, he just has to fuck you and you’re more than happy to get fucked into your pillows. and he’ll stare down at your ass and circle his thumb around the slick hole, pushing in so slowly, groaning at the way you clench around him and his thumb right before you cum all over him.
bakugou katsuki who genuinely truly gets pussy drunk when he eats you out.
he’s down there, eyes half lidded, tongue lazily lolling against you. hard to tell what’s slick and what’s spit. his hands on your thighs forcing them apart further as his tongue slides in even deeper. he’s practically moaning into you.
“ffuck kats- it’s too much!” you whine as he pumps a finger into you, sucking harshly on your clit.
“i can’t baby, y’just taste so damn good. can’t get ‘nough of ya..” as he removes his finger and goes back to slurping you up. breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert. he wants you for all of them.
and he’s so embarrassed by this but he always humps into the bed and literally cums into his pants every damn time. you always poke fun at him for messing up the bed and shit but then he just drags you onto the floor or couch and the whole thing repeats and he’s asking if this spot is better but your legs are shaking too hard to even form a thought.
but yeah katsuki would die a happy man between your legs. the only thing on earth he’d let defeat him.
Bf!bkg who always so politely taps his dick on your clit before he slides it in 🦭
i also do think this is very true…… knocking on da door. likes when you jolt. usually means you whine a little more as if that one action took an extra minute even though it’s a second.
🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ pro hero bakugou & fem!reader. established relationship, unprotected sex, talk of condoms, subtle size kink, dacryphilia if you squint close enough -> bakugou is a responsible guy. he never forgets a thing. aside from the one time he forgets to buy condoms — no worries, you’ve always wanted him to hit it raw.
“no… fuck. damn it, i swear i —!”
katsuki never forgets condoms, ever. he’s big on safe sex, tested regularly doesn’t want any happy accidents before either of you are ready… but the one time he does forget to buy some, he genuinely nearly breaks down.
“f-fuck. sorry, baby — shit, i think we’re out.” bakugou rasps gruffly into your mouth — upset, begrudging. the bedside draw slams shut with a disappointing creak but it does nothing to dissipate heat in the air.
he’s teary eyed as he pulls back from your kiss swollen lips with the realisation. he hadn’t stocked up before he left for his mission in kuwait and you’d used the last of them that same weekend. the blonde sniffs it off as nonchalantly as he can, the fact that he’s about to cry, because he’s painfully hard against your clothed cunt and he hasn’t been able to properly have you in two weeks. a fist around his pulsing shaft and a memory of you bouncing back on him is barely enough for a man.
now you’re half naked underneath him and wet against his crotch, clothes still in a pathetic pile by the front door of your apartment because you’d welcomed him in with the same unexpected feverishness of a bustling city’s summer heat wave. heated kisses and burning touches that speak more than a week’s worth of yearning. katsuki feels stupid, he doesn’t know why he cries, perhaps it’s because he knows — no condom means no sex. he hates to leave you high and dry, hates to have to go take a cold shower until he can hit the stores tomorrow, but then your fingers curl in ash blonde baby hairs and you pull him back into you as though he’s rope slipping through his fingers. firm. grounding.
“maybe… maybe tonight we can try without?” you suggest because you’re so perfect, so undeniably good to him in ways the blonde isn’t even sure he deserves. your lips are glossy, your eyes are glassy and katsuki can feel your pussy smear over him with a layer of sweet glaze — clenching around nothing just at the thought of taking him raw. “i don’t want you to go. just want to be close to you.” you add, pouty. so pretty.
he should say no. he should insist on going down on you and rubbing one out in the shower later tonight. but there you are, squirming against his thickness that presses into your soft tummy, peering up at katsuki with those captivating, hypnotic eyes that plead for a slither of mercy. “please.” you whisper, the secret lying underneath your tongue next to every form of begging you know possible. you’re prepared to do it, if it means having him sink into you completely free of rubber. just skin on skin and the passion burning in your lungs.
“okay,” pearls of sweat form a halo around his head, sand blonde locks stick to the feverish skin as it drops to your bare shoulder. blood diluted with droplets of sin set a course for south and katsuki’s thick shaft pulses to life against you — as if to lead him into temptation — put it in. “god, fuck, okay. you’re gonna be good though? g-gonna let me pull out?” he manages a choked groan, rooted strongly in his chest like a sturdy oak tree. reverberating through your lush, syrupy cunt with enough bass to make you bend into him.
when you smile this time, it’s relieved and earnest — a beautiful glow that settles against the natural slopes of your features because katsuki strips faster than he ever has in his life. cock rock hard, wet and bare against you, seedy tip lathered in pre cum already married to your aching clit which he taps so lovingly against.
“n-no promises.” you mewl.
it’s so crude, no unlike the two of you, to be messy and raw. the heat of him blooms within you as bakugou lines up with your entrance, shallowly thrusting past the quivering hole with a grateful hiss. because he’s so lucky to be let into the gates of heaven. that you’ll let him fuck you even with the risk.
“can’t play around like that, baby, c-can’t say shit like that,” his breathing stutters, you squeeze around every hot, bare inch he gives to you. “…mmm fuck— ‘m gonna —!” katsuki heaves into your neck, lips on your pulse point to check you’re still with him whilst he bottoms out — pelvis flush against yours, thighs hiked high on his hip, dick dragging along your welcoming walls. “you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.”
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
opinions on yn being on top? 🤔🤔 is it comfortable for the two, do they enjoy it ?
this is for you. whole fic on yn being on top.
but for general ideas.
some may disagree with this but intimacy with bkg tends to be 70/30 on dom/sub dynamics for him. like he is usually in control and putting you in position.
so saying that, even if you’re on top, he is sooooo power bottom. he is holding you by the hips and thrusting up OR he’s thrusting your body up and down him.
everyone loves it.
he lets you do what you want on top at the beginning. in control of the pace while he sits back and just rests his hands on your thigh. calls you pretty, asks why you’re so wet. but as soon as you get tired, he’s happily taking control. he’s got a little sweat on his forehead. you’re gripping his shoulders for purchase.
you also talk a lot more on top. groans and mumbles and slow drawls because he feels so much deeper. every push where it’s softer and you’re wailing.
anon who spoke about bkg and yn doing pottery together…
i imagine bkg learning it in japan or smth like one of those random quirky things about him. he mentioned it in convo casually and you’re like ‘huh????’ so he rents out a pottery studio so both of you can go privately and he can teach you. he sits on the chair with you also on the chair in front of him, in between his thighs and back and ass pressed up against his crotch and chest. guides your hand together moulding the clay 🤤 v romantic and sensual and messy
yeaahhhhh i do see it. i find it funny him just randomly having a skill. i wanna believe he did three classes and was annoyingly good at it that he’s just able to tell people Yeah i can do pottery.
then when he takes you, he is actually good and able to teach you. him KNOWING it’s gonna be an intimate date while if it’s your first time doing it, you think he’s genuinely going to teach you to do some arts and crafts.
you having separate tables but quickly you’re complaining you can’t control your clay. and he’s got his jumper sleeves pulled up to his biceps, forearms and hands all coated in clay.
“cmon i’ll show you.” and drags his chair to sit behind yours.
head on your shoulder, now he’s whispering, back pressed to his chest. wet hands on his wet hands in the clay and it’s like he’s edging and praising at the same time.
“yeah, just like that. just wanna smooth it with your thumb. you wanna do a pot, huh?”
and i think it’s you getting aroused very slowly then all at once. like it’s the dim lights and the lofi music he put on in the background. he’s dressed so cute sexy boyfriendy in his jeans, boots and jumper. he also smells good. sweet masculine musk.
it’s a vibe he’s purposely curated and he knows you’d fall for.
with his head on your shoulder you turn to look at him and he’s immediately like, “you good?” and you feel him pressed behind you. not hard (yet) but he’s there, his whole body holds you. so it’s just a kiss on the corner of his mouth.
“hm yeah. this is an adorable date.” you whisper back, and he smirks slowly.
“wanted to do somethin’ fun with you. we stay home often.” he replies, a kiss on the corner of your jaw.
and it is slow, sensual and romantic. his hands over yours, basically doing the job for you but it feels like you’re doing it. the clay is wet and cold but he’s hard and warm behind you.
you moaning that your white vest is stained with clay flecks so he just cups both your breasts with his clay hands. it’s a risky move from him. you could get mad or laugh.
luckily the second option, paired with whines, “why’d you do that!!”
then you’re spinning around on your stool to face him, right up close.
“why’d you wear a wool jumper to pottery. i can’t even get you back,” you roll your eyes.
bakugou doesn’t care, pulls off the item with his clay hands to leave him in a black muscle tank.
you grin, wet hands on him. first his arms, biceps, then you wet your hands again with the clay to press onto his pectorals.
i genuinely love your writing so much so i’m curious what you’d might think of this idea. Bakugou x reader but reader is 100% inexperienced when it comes to the bedroom and He’s the experienced one, i know i know it’s a very usual trope but i eat it upppp bc i still have my vcard at 24… oh woahhhhhwho said that?! totally understandable if it’s a no (⸝⸝⸝>﹏<⸝⸝⸝)
€ FIRST TIME W/ KATSUKI BAKUGO
“shiiit! such a slut—y’sure you a virgin, sweets?” Katsuki groaned, delivering a smack to your ass as he guides your hips up and down his fat cock as you whimpered and cried from how much he was stretching you out. Your Bestfriend, Katsuki Bakugo, “reluctantly” helped you cum after you had told him you were ovulating. He’d spent the past twenty minutes finger fucking you, lapping at your swollen clit and stretching you out, trying to make it less painful and a little more loose for when he fucked you, but it was impossible. Your tight little cunt squeezed around his lengthy fat dick everytime you bounced. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth agape and beads of sweat dripping down your forehead as your thighs burned and screamed at you to stop with each sloppy bounce. “Gosh—fuck suki!” You whined, his bulbous tip pounding your g spot with each movement. You felt so so stuffed, his girthy 7 inches filling you up so tastefully. Sure, you’d seen your bestfriend walking around in boxers on FaceTime but never, ever did you think he would feel this good. His hands were on each ass cheek, helping you ride him, occasionally rutting up into you from how eager he was to fuck you, sorry—How eager hers been to fuck you. Katsuki was a secret pervert. He’d noticed anytime your skirt rode up too high or anytime you wore a shirt that made your boobs look great—tempting. He was just good at hiding it. “fuck, sweets. been thinking about fuckin’ ya for sooo long.” He grunted, need evident in his voice as he watched how your struggled to ride him, legs shaking with each movement but still going to your best ability to please him. Such a good girl. “So so big kats! can’t take it n’more” you whimpered, pouting and tears staining your cheeks as your bouncing slowed slightly. “mfphh yeah? I get you this weak?” he moaned, smirking and practically mocking you as he wrapped his arms around your body that was so much tinier compared to his, burying your head into the crook of his neck, hand massaging your scalp and tangling in your hair as he aggressively pounded up into you, sticky, repeated wet thrusts that made the both of you cry out in pleasure. “shit-shit-shit katsuki I’m gonna cum!” You whined in his neck, soaking it with your tears and drooled as you came all over his cock, slick and jizz leaking out of you after he quickly pulled out, releasing his load all over the sheets and his thighs behind you with a needy little groan. “s’wont ever happen again, right n/n? won’t be able to leave ya ass alone if it does.” he muttered lowly in your ear, moving to press soft kisses on your neck, delivering another smack to your sore ass as he moved to get the both of you cleaned up. It definitely did happen again. again and again and again. He was so so obsessed, waiting for any opportunity to make you his girl.
i think you guys already know I’m gonna say not proof read🥹
hi again!! could you write where katsuki and reader and making out, our shirts off and he's taking off his pants when mitsuki walks into his room? 👀👀
It started off innocent, just a few smooches to rewind after a long day. You were staying over at Katsuki's parents house for a change so it wasn't like you had planned it.
But you just got a bit carried away, Katsuki just looked so gorgeous and you didn't want to pull away. It was all a blur until you were pulling your shirt over your head, the warm air hitting your skin. You kissed him again, sloppy and needy, as your fingers undid his shirt buttons.
It was difficult to draw your attention away from Katsuki's broad and muscular chest. You traced his muscles and his body shivered. He growled in annoyance. "Need you right now-"
Katsuki began to pull down his joggers to reveal the aching tent in his boxers when the door swung open.
"Hey Katsuki- Oh my god!" The woman shouted at the sight. "For the love of god, at least wait til night time!" Mitsuki groaned and turned away from the sight. Angry and disappointed her son was acting so foolish.
Your face burned and you quickly covered yourself, but not as quickly as Katsuki pulled up his pants. You both were staring at the floor in shame as Katsuki's mother gave you a stern telling off, it felt like she was disciplining children.
At the end of the conversation she grumbled and mentioned something about protection and it being still too early for grandkids.
The dinner afterwards was terribly awkward.
*♬ . °♪~
Hi again!! You always give the best askssss. Idk why I love this trope so much I feel like I've written similar to this a lot. I don't know if that says anything about me 🤔
Intense makeouts with new!bfbkg and there’s no sex but it’s just all tension and heavy petting. Shit if he’s feeling bold he will let himself grind into you 🤭🤭
NEW BOYF BKG BEFORE you have sex so everything is just intense and getting riled up and you both knowing you’ve got to stop because nothing more is going to happen. making out in his car and effortlessly he drags you onto his lap. it’s after a while and he doesn’t mean to when he starts grinding into you. or when he drops you home at the end of the night and outside your door he’s just supposed to say goodbye. but it turns into a kiss with becomes you opening your mouth and he’s caging you in by the door and you’re pressing against him. every time he’s leaving hard in his underwear. blinking away lust because your bed is literally behind that door. you both could. but the beginning new fun stages of sexual tension.
or even at a bar when he’s got his one drink for the night because he doesn’t drink and maybe you’re at two in a low lit corner of the room and your hand is on his thigh and his on your hip. too touchy too quickly. pressed against each other. you’re buzzing just a little and making out.
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