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 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 when 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 but 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 and 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 his body for sex? that’s something he has 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. your mouth immediately start salivating, his hands grip the elastic waistband of his shorts. he pulls it 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 that 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 tree 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,” 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 flatten your tongue against his shaft and give him one lick up.
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.”
SYNOPSIS: todoroki is the face of next month's heroes weekly cover and this time he's pretty much naked. you're not sure how you feel about that.
WARNINGS: minors dni, fem reader, marks n hickeys on shou, lots of possession from reader, a lil insecure uncomfortable reader, established relationship, sweet todoroki, unprotected sex, dom reader but not heavily more switch for them both, yn takes photos of him
A/N: heyyyyy ive had this idea for years lmao so this is my attempt. i was gonna use it for bkg but i think it sounded sweeter for shou. also imagine a calvin klein-esque shoot okay. also title from rihanna because i am obsessed with love on the brain atm.
“i’ve got a surprise for you.”
the words sounded strange coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth. odd. todoroki shouto wasn’t one for surprises. he didn’t like when people did them to him, as shown when midoriya set up a surprise birthday for him a few years back and he just stared blankly at everyone. he said to you later that night that he didn’t see the point of all the effort to be secretive when it would have been easier if he just knew. so surprises weren’t todoroki’s thing which by default meant he never really thought to do them with you. if he saw jewellery on patrol and thought of you, he’d buy it and give it to you when he’d see you next. same with musical and concert tickets so they were never technically surprises, just very thoughtful gifts.
but this being called a surprise (in his own words!) meant that he kept a secret from you for some time. went off and did something without telling you, to then one day tell you all in hopes of making you happy.
you rolled over in bed to face todoroki, a frown deep set on your features. it was the early morning, the first coherent sentence after his first mumbled, “good morning,” into your neck.
“you, todoroki shouto, have a surprise for me?” you ask and you feel his arms tighten around you.
you tilt your head up to meet his bicoloured pupils and you notice a little bit of insecurity waft behind them. his bottom lip juts out, a perfect pink because he has to be gorgeous even in the morning. his usual middle parting, separating his red and white locks is off centre but it only gives him a model off duty look rather than just waking up.
“yes, i do. is that really a surprise in itself?”
you nod, pressing a kiss to his closed mouth, “surprises aren’t really your thing.”
“it can be ours though. or yours,” he replies, pecking your forehead. it’s another new thing he does (along with surprises apparently), pecking your forehead.
you shrug, giving him a sly smile, “depends on how this one goes.”
todoroki’s comment gets cut off when the doorbell to his apartment sounds, even his phone going off to alert him someone’s at the door. he lets you roll out his arms to grab his phone and go into the intercom app, “you can leave the package there, i’ll come get it now.”
you stare at the hero with a hum as he slides out of bed in his tight black underwear, long lean body with a hand brushing through his hair. he stretches his arms to the ceiling like a cat, a moan rumbling from his lips. then he stares you down for a moment, yawning and squeezing your foot at the end of the bed. “this is for you.”
todoroki returns with a small smile, holding a medium sized brown box to his chest. you sit up slightly, a strap to your tank top falling down.
“what is it?” you ask, impatience pumping through you at being so close to whatever it is.
“patience babygirl,” he chuckles, climbing back into bed and giving it to you on top of the covers. he scratches his head, sinking back under the duvet, “now open it.”
you pick at the tape, before pulling the brown tape cleanly off, “can i just say how i have no clue what this is right now? none.”
todoroki says nothing, studying your reaction when you bend open the flaps and finally pull out the item.
you’re stunned to silence. the smile on your face dropping and he’s finding it difficult to read you.
in your hands are the first five copies of todoroki’s cover for next month's Heroes Weekly issue. he’s been on it before, a few times but all fully clothed. in this future copy, he’s laying only in tight white underwear, on top of bright white sheets, looking sexier than ever. looking exactly like he does beside you. purposely ruffled hair, so obviously close to his morning hair you’re wondering if the hair and makeup team have been looking through your windows. he’s got a smoulder, staring down the camera like the devil himself, tempting you to get into bed with him.
his body is impeccable, with long limbs, bread rolls for muscles and broad lean shoulders. a few scars litter his body which only feeds into the whole pro-hero sexiness with one large hand sprawled across his chest and another propping up his head, making his bicep bulge.
your shouto, now for the world to see.
“i can’t tell what you’re thinking?”
honestly, you don’t know what you’re thinking either. it’s a sexy image, he’s a beautiful man, so gorgeous and you’re partly thinking to frame one of the copies and blowing up the picture to get as a poster. another side of you is literally thinking of blowing up every printed image of your boyfriend like this because you share so much of him all the time, you want how he looks in the morning to be just for you. you trace your finger over the bold lettering at the front, ‘THE REAL SHOUTO’.
“you look great shou. i’m assuming you’ve got a whole spread,” you say, void of any emotion as you flick to the page of his interview and more photos of him laying back in a bed and even one of him brushing his teeth in an old fashioned bathroom.
he takes the box from your lap of the spare magazines and shoves it to the ground. he goes to take the copy out of your hands but you hold it to your chest, “wait, i’m not done!”
“you’re not being honest with me.”
for the first time since you’ve held the magazine, you look to your right to the man himself. you feel a hand on your heart tighten and twist. you don’t want to share him with the world.
“what? you look really good. your new workout routine is so good, makes you look really good and—,”
“you’ve said good three times. i don’t think you think it’s good,” todoroki bites, pulling the magazine out of your hands and trying to look at the images through your eyes. does he look bad? is this trying too hard? all his friends have done covers like this, showing even more skin and some sweaty and dirty. does he look stupid?
your eyes widen at the insecurity swimming behind his pupils. you speak truthfully, turning to face him with a hand on his cheek, “no shou, you really do look gorgeous. trust me. i think we should frame one for my bedroom.”
“mhm?” he’s not convinced.
“uh-huh. you look like after we have sex in the morning. i love it.”
your words are soft, full of thought and underlying meaning. your eyes are wide and shiny, focused back on the cover and todoroki is still really confused.
todoroki frowns, “so why are you being so… quiet and…frowny? you get more excited when i post an instagram of me slightly smiling.”
you glance away from your lover, your hand sliding off his cheek. “everyone sees you slightly smiling,” you mumble but it’s not enough because todoroki lays on his back and pulls you on top of him.
you straddle his waist as he grips your chin so you can’t look away. “and? talk to me.” he orders, pulling you close to his face, his lips brushing yours.
you groan aloud, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “it’s so embarrassing shou. but i promise i like the photos. a lot.”
he nods but he doesn’t let go, “tell me now baby.”
“you look like how you look when we have sex in the morning.”
“you said that already.”
you sigh, you point a finger between your body and his, “when we have sex together.”
“you are the only one i have sex with,” a smile pokes at his cheek but it quickly drops when you huff.
“you’re not listening, shou.”
“because you’re not explaining yourself.”
you know better than to assume todoroki will laugh or make fun of you. he is such a listener, but with you repeating the same thing, he’s finding it hard to read between the lines. a hand rests on your bare hip, his finger playing with the elastic of your underwear.
“everybody is going to see you, how i see you,” you whisper, shutting your eyes so you don’t have to look at him, “i like having you to myself. now all your fangirls are going to know. it’s even the title! the real shouto! only i should know that!”
you don’t notice your chest heaving or your fingers curling into fists. when you do open your eyes again, todoroki is in deep thought.
“i didn’t see it like that,” he glances at the cover beside him, then back to you. he picks it up before throwing it back down, “you know this isn’t really me, right? the real me is me with you. i even spoke about you in the article, how i love you and i’m doing the shoot as a surprise for you. the photos are for you.”
“i do really love the photos,” he rubs his thumb across your cheek to soothe you but you’re hot and embarrassed, “i know i’m being stupid but i’ll get over it.”
he shakes his head, locks of red and white falling over his eyes, “you’re not being stupid. i get it but this isn’t how i look after sex. i’m sweaty and tired and completely in love with you.”
you smile, shaking your head, “you’re so cute.”
he matches your smile, “i thought i was good. really good.”
you pinch his nipple, “i also said gorgeous. very sexy.”
you’re still shy and todoroki can barely recognise you. he’s not used to you thinking before you speak and wanting to disappear. he sneaks a hand up your camisole, “if you want me to tell them not to publish it i will. we can take new photos.”
you shake your head, “no it’s okay. if you’re really talking about me in the interview, everyone will know you’re mine. they can look but not touch.”
you bite down on your lip when todoroki grins slowly at you. he’s always been a fan of possession, a reason why he practically dedicated the cover and shoot to you. you are the real him, everything about him is you.
“show me, baby girl. show me how i’m yours,” he slurs tilting his head up for a kiss. you give it to him like you’d give him anything he asks for, a sweet kiss on his lips which so easily becomes a make out.
you become one, your tongue brushing against his, your fingers in his mussed hair. you lick around his mouth and he lets you take control, though his hands feel you up, one on your ass and another on your back to press you to him.
you pull away, brushing the spit connecting you both with your thumb and todoroki moans aloud. he tilts his hips so you can feel him hard on your ass. “i love you,” he murmurs, lips pouting for another kiss.
“i love you too, shou,” you whisper ducking down to suck on a spot on his neck. large hands roam your body, squeezing as you nibble down on his skin. you want to bruise him, mark him so everybody knows he’s yours.
you hear him gasp at the pain, “oh baby,” but he only eggs you on.
“and another, so everyone knows you belong to me,” you say, ducking down to mark another hickey on his neck. he stretches his neck like a purring kitten to give you more space and you’re not in control when you begin to hump his chest, begging for some friction.
when you finally pull away, your eyes become half-lidded at your work. “so pretty, shou,” you pout, two red splotches on his neck. then you eye his pectoral, right on the spot above his heart. or should you say your heart since he’s always saying it is.
you smooth a thumb across the skin before stuffing a hand in his boxers and pulling out his cock. his hips jolt and you laugh, “you’re needy, aren’t you?”
“fuck… yeah, i am. for you, always,” todoroki whimpers and you feel your stomach warm, your lower half fluttering.
you begin to pump him in your fist, your thumb rubbing the wet head of his cock. he hums, pleasure radiating through his body and he grunts when you take your teeth to his chest, working on a hickey on his heart.
you pull away with a twinkle in your eye, clearly proud of his markings and bruisings. he’s definitely not going to be able to hide the ones on his throat with his hero suit on. you shuffle up to rub your clothed clit over his cock and todoroki bends his knees to position himself firmly on his bed.
you lay a kiss on his chest, all the littered pink and red marks. “say you’re mine shou.” you brush your fingers over him and your boyfriend rumbles over your touch. you squeeze around his head, hand tight and warm and you feel his body vibrate.
“i’m all yours,” todoroki moans and when you kiss his chest you reply with the same three words.
“can i take a photo of you?” you run both hands down his chest, your back arched as you stimulate yourself.
todoroki is putty in your hands, looking up at you like you put stars in the sky. his lips are parted and he already feels like he’s been fucked even though he hasn’t been inside of you yet. he loves being owned by you, heck this magazine was him making it clear that he is and you letting him know that it’s something you think about makes his heart pound heavy in his chest.
“of course, love,” he stretches to get your phone before he even finishes speaking.
you snatch the device, switching to the camera app and taking photos similar to the ones in the magazine. different angle, sitting on top of him but these ones are so much more realistic, especially when you pull your panties to the side and slip him inside you.
you snap photos of his eyes shut, pupils rolling back and his tensed abs as he flicks his hips up for some friction. you think he’s beautiful, “so beautiful shou. you’re so sexy. you look like mine.”
he bites down on his lower lip, a rough growl rumbling from him. “mother… fucker,” he grunts and with one last photo, you throw your phone to the side to focus on him inside you.
you grind down back on him, thighs burning as you bounce and meet every one of his thrusts. “you take me so well baby. you’re perfect for me,” he trembles and you know he’s close because his fingers squeeze your ass cheeks to hold you in place.
without any warning, he flips you around onto your back. you gasp when your head hits the pillow and moan when he hits a completely different spot.
“oh fuck, oh fuck shou,” he rubs clockwise circles on your clit, his hair damp on his forehead.
“what do you need baby? talk to me,” he moves his hips faster and your mouth falls open in pleasure.
“a kiss, want you to kiss me when we—,” your arms circle around his neck and he sinks his tongue into your mouth to soak up all your moans.
together you reach the peak, your back arching under the weight of his body, thighs clenched around his waist and clinging onto him. todoroki groans down your throat, stamina insane as he keeps his thrusts steady throughout his orgasm. he separates from the kiss to breathe, resting his forehead against yours as he spills into you.
you’re both wet and warm, the movement of him inside you loud.
“oh fuck,” he trembles, slowly letting his body weight down to lay on top of you.
together you both breathe, collecting yourselves before you have to clean up.
“only you would think a collection of photos of you would be a gift for me,” you giggle and todoroki flicks his head up to glare at you.
“i would love to get a book of photos of you like that,” he mumbles softly.
“don’t get me wrong it is a gift. i want a poster of the front cover. framed signed too,” he rolls his eyes but he doesn’t disagree. he’ll definitely make it happen for you.
he reaches up on his forearms, caging you in to talk to you, “you sure you still don’t feel weird about it?”
you brush your hand over his throat, then down the mark on his chest, “no, you know you’re mine. that’s enough for me.” he kisses you softly and you grin, “also i think there's something sexy about everyone seeing you but only i really get to see the real you and you do choose me every day.”
he nods, a smile springing on his face, “and i will forever.”
when shouto comes back from long missions, you always expect him to immediately fall into bed and sleep for a week. but every time without fail you find yourself herded into the bed instead and fucked so thoroughly it's you who needs to sleep for a week.
bakugou katsuki joined this new agency to train and gain experience to be the best. you just want him under your spell. he is so gorgeous after all.
warnings: minors dni. pro hero!bkg, oral (f), fingering (f), swearing, drinking (yn). i fear a closer to canon bkg than i usually write. lightly based popular girl x quiet grumpy guy, both pro heroes in an agency :)
in all the hero autobiographies bakugou has ever read, they forgot to mention how lonely it is when you transfer to a new agency. away from home, away from all your friends and you know absolutely nobody. though it’s fine, he's not here for a new family or friends or any of that shit, he's not even planning on being here for that long so not getting attached is probably the first rule for taking and leaving. he simply wants to get through his days unbothered, improve his skills and use them back home.
you were the first face he saw when he landed here. at the airport advertising facial cream and the side of his taxi looking sultry holding a new perfume. bakugou's not immune to a pretty face but there's always something unreal about a face on an advert. fine tune, edited, fake. he definitely didn’t expect that same face to be in the front row smiling softly up at him, excited that he’s joining the agency during his induction meeting. you look exactly how you did on the ad. fuck, probably even prettier.
he quickly finds out you're also a new upcoming hero because you're practically inescapable. it makes it easy to dislike you. you always involve him in group conversations, offer him a seat beside you, ask him how he’s finding it here. he hates how you look at him first when he walks in the room and he hates how people deem him worthy to talk to simply because they see you talking to him. like his quirk doesn’t make him hold up on his own, like he couldn’t blast everyone to death right here, right now.
what he despises most is how he was dragged to one of the work bar evenings after successfully handling a villain as a squad and you found him hiding at the bar to the side about to confess your crush on him. with your shiny lips, your glassy eyes from the alcohol and how you’re shy, fucking shy, unable to meet his eyes and twiddling your thumbs.
he fucking hates it, disgusted by it. what is there about him to like? he snaps at you, he avoids working with you on missions and he always declines your offers to hang out with your friends and… and… he’s here for one reason only, to gain experience to be the best hero and fuck off home after.
you shouldn’t like him, you’re better than this. he can barely look you in the eyes and he doesn’t mean to sharply inhale when he can smell your perfume in the room before he can see you. there are piles of guys at the agency that fawn over you, offer you drinks, equipment upgrades, dates. your fan mail now has three postboxes compared to everyone else who shares. he’s never given you shit, this feels like a fucking joke.
so when you lean on the bar, body facing him while he’s trying to find a bartender to get another soda water, you have the nerve to look insecure around him.
“dynamight… bakugou? i don’t know which you prefer, out of the agency?”
he sees how you command a room, how you wore these new shoes and the next day four women in the agency were wearing them. you’re wearing a vest that’s low cut and he’s not a teenager but from how you’re leaning on the bar, it’s a conscious effort to look away.
bakugou grunts like he’s already annoyed and you’re bothering him, “i don’t give a fuck. what do you want?”
and you don’t scurry under his gaze. not intimidated by his heavy brow bone that holds his two furrowed wheat blonde brows or how his ruby irises glisten as they squint.
“okay, so you might have probably guessed… but i have a small crush on you,” you bite down softly on your bottom lip, fiddling with the hem of your vest, “do with it what you want. it was just killing me not telling you!”
bakugou has no clue what to say about that. you’re about a foot shorter than him and he can see the rest of the agency members staring over at you two, guessing what you could possibly be talking about. he’s had girls confess to him before, he gets the most fanmail back home but women like you?
“why?” he spits, grabbing the soda water the bartender places in front of him and clutching the cold glass. you’re making his skin flush, his cheeks warm. he feels like his hands are going to start prickling from his quirk with how sweaty he’s become.
you laugh, even a snort falling out which makes your eyes widen in shock. “fuck,” you mumble under your breath, “ignore that, thanks. what do you mean why?”
bakugou has no clue what to make of you, what to do about you. “why the fuck do you like me? i’m not gonna be your bitch buyin’ you shit and cleanin’ every step you’re about to make.”
you roll your eyes, taking a swig of the beer you brought over. then you really think about his question for a few seconds, licking the foam across your top lip. bakugou’s eyes follow the motion until he remembers why you’re both in silence.
“why?”
“i think you’re sexy, pretty eyes too.” you point at his face, but then your eyes travel to his chest, “and your body. and… and i like how you don’t take shit from anyone and you’re good at your job.”
it’s like more reasons are flowing into you the more you talk, each one popping into you like a new idea.
“and you’re kinda shy around me—,”
“the fuck i am.”
“—which i think is cute and you always listen in briefings, never messing around. i also like how you act like you don’t really care about us but in missions you’re always around for back up if needed. chia told me she would’ve had her head sliced off if you didn’t push her out the way. i like that.”
“she needs to pay attention—,”
“oh and i like how you only speak when spoken to.”
that makes bakugou blink at you, “what is that supposed to mean?”
you’re talking with your hands now, “like you only talk to me if i talk to you. it’s very polite.”
bakugou feels as if someone’s knocked him out and woke him up in an alternate universe. how the hell can you interpret his behaviour as polite?
then he visibly sees the attraction on your face. you’ve got a small smile as you gaze at his biceps, thick and present in his black t-shirt, watching his lips pink and wet on his glass and then up to his eyes tilting your head slightly.
“is that enough reasons for you?”
bakugou looks away from you, facing forward towards the bar. physically you’re his type, you’re everyone’s type but he’d choose you in a room full of beautiful women if he had to. your personality, well there’s a couple things he likes about you despite how annoying you are.
“i don’t want to date you.”
“oh,” and you nod sharply, standing up straighter, “that’s okay, was just letting you know—,”
“i don’t date in general. i don’t date anyone.” it’s nothing personal, he’s trying to say.
“you’re not a virgin are you? you can’t be looking like that?”
bakugou’s eyes almost fall out of his head, usually he’s the direct one but sex… it’s still new for him, not a subject he can just talk about with anyone.
“what the fuck? no. i’m not, i’m not sayin' that.”
“ha, thought so,” you smile like you’ve got an answer right.
“i’m sayin’ i dont fuckin’ date so if you want a lil boyfriend i’m not doin’ that shit.” he finalises, looking at you to check your reaction.
he’s got no clue what you’re thinking, a frown like you’re trying to work him out. then you drink the rest of your beer and wave over the bartender. the guy notices you immediately, rushing over with big blinking eyes for your request.
“another beer please. thank you!”
then you’re back to bakugou, “what do you do?”
“hah?”
a fresh beer in front of you, “it’s on the house.”
you practically sparkle, fluttering your eyelashes, “thank you, honey.”
bakugou doesn’t know what it is that rumbles through him, piercing holes through the bartender until he rushes away to the other side of the bar.
“if you don’t date, what do you do? fuck?”
sex clearly is easy for you to talk about. he wonders if you have it often, with who? how do you like it? it’s curiosity and temptation that makes him ask. this is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with each other.
“sometimes. don’t you?”
“sometimes,” you laugh. then you level him with a stare like you’re trying to figure out what’s at the back of his mind, “i think we’d be good at it together.”
he can’t tell if you’re flirting or you’re being genuinely honest. you’ve never really flirted with him he thinks, or not that he’s aware of. definitely not anything like calling him honey and that shit you just did with your eyes. you’re more upfront, kind to him. for fucks sake.
what’s even worse is bakugou doesn’t even know if he could satisfy you. he barely isn’t a virgin, with two girls in very basic missionary where he wasn’t even sure if they orgasmed or not.
“i… you… you can’t say shit like that.”
he pictures pleasuring you, eating you out in his bed with your knees on his shoulders or dropping to his knees in a closet in the agency while you have your hero gear on. he thinks about you declining gifts other guys get you and asking whether he wants to go home with you. he’s always fucking speaking when spoken to.
you exhale a small laugh, “i’m sorry. i’ll leave you. just… think about it. i’m fine with not dating.”
probably because you could date anyone you wanted so you have no reason to long for him. you take your beer with you as you spin around, jeans tight around your ass and flared past your thigh.
he hears you laugh loudly to the rest of the agency members, “i was just asking him who made his suit! he’s so stealthy on the field.”
bakugou swallows his soda water in one gulp, wiping his mouth and leaves without saying a word.
it’s only when he gets back to his small apartment that he finds your number in a group chat he has with all the agency heroes. your pretty profile picture, you sitting across a restaurant table with your head resting in your palm.
he jabs his fingers across his phone screen to type out a message.
This is my address if you ever want to come around: xxx
your reply only takes three minutes,
i’ll let you know :)
bakugou would have thought that conversation was a fever dream if he didn’t have the texts to prove it. you give him even less attention than you did before. still involving him in conversations, standing next to him in briefings which pisses him off so much that he just offers his seat to you so he stands instead. now he finds you in a room first, your eyes so much slower to find his face unlike before when you were always staring.
he did however, listen to two lower level heroes complain about how one of them asked you on a date to which you politely declined that you have a crush on someone else. he fucking hopes that’s still him.
he’s itching for you to ask to come over and every time he sits in his temporary apartment the loneliness that was welcome before only feels like a punishment.
so the next day in the agency, he storms over to where you’re sitting on a table with a group of your hero girlfriends showing them something on your phone.
“yn, i need to talk to you,”
the conversation dies immediately and bakugou has three pairs of eyes staring at him, each for a different reason. he tries to only focus on yours, then the phone in your hand which is a photo of you in a lingerie shoot for a brand.
ruby eyes flicker to you then the screen then you. you’re crawling on the ground, in a red and white lingerie set, christmas themed with white fluff along the bra cups and your panties waistband. you look insane, smooth, gorgeous and fuck…
you tilt your head at him, placing your phone in your lap.
“what’s wrong?” he never talks to you first.
“i need to fuckin’ talk to you.”
your girls look at you with a frown so you shrug, hopping off the table and walking over to him. he’s in a white t-shirt this time, black baggy cargo trousers and his chunky black boots. it makes your mouth water staring at him, even the perfectly faded hair on his nape and the scars along his arms. the scar on his cheek is your favourite, you’ve spent a few nights imagining kissing it, having it against your thigh, sitting on—
“not here,” he mumbles and dynamight, bakugou, grabs your hand in front of everybody and drags you into an empty meeting room.
your eyes are wide in shock as he locks the door behind him and pulls down all the blinds.
“everyone is going to think we’re having sex in here.”
you notice his stomach tense first, then his jaw.
“you’re always talking about fuckin’.” he grunts like it pains him, walking over to you with crossed arms.
nothing about him terrifies you, it only intrigues you more. “so why’d you drag me in here?”
bakugou knows how he’s going to sound before he says it, how he’s gonna sound like one of those bitch loser boys that follow you around the agency and listen to you decline their offers. but you always do it nice enough that they stay close.
“why haven’t you texted me?”
“have you texted me?”
you’re about to pull out your phone to check but bakugou shakes his head, “no.”
“then? what am i texting you?”
bakugou feels like his head is about to explode, that he needs to punch a sand bag to let out some steam or something. he’s all agitated, scratching the back of his head as you lightly perch your ass on the massive table, resting your arms behind you as you lean back. you’re not even giving him your full attention.
“you wanted to date me, you told me that and i haven’t heard shit from you since.”
“i said i was okay with you not wanting to date me. did you want to hear from me, dynamight?”
you’re taunting him, trying to draw something deep within him out for you to play with. you’re in a matching white gym set, a tennis skirt and a tight vest because you have quirk training in an hour, just like he does.
you’re gazing at whatever leftover paperwork is on the table when he steps in close to you. both your feet between his legs.
bakugou is large, overwhelming. smells sweet with a face that is even sweeter.
“hmm?” you ask, tilting your head up at him.
“do you always get what you want?” he growls and you notice his gold canine, “i’m not a fuckin’ plaything, yn.”
“i never said you were. you never said you liked me or wanted to date me or have sex with me. you just sent me your address. use your words, dynamight. a girl is getting mixed signals here.” you drawl.
he’s yet to touch you but you feel him. the heat from his skin and you just have to lean in for his forearms to press against your breasts.
your hair falls behind you as you look up at him, leaning back on your arms. you’re expectant, open.
“i hate that i like you. everyone fuckin’ likes you.” he spits and you smile like he’s confessed his undying love for you.
“you’re cute.” you cheese and he steps into your space, so you feel how hard he is against your lower stomach.
“don’t call me that. nothin’ about me is cute,” he grits his teeth.
you’re stunned at how riled up you’ve got him. it’s only been three days since he texted you, since the conversation at the bar and he’s reeling for you. the feeling of his crotch has you feeling delirious, opting to sit up on the table to press your breasts into him.
“it would be cute if you got on your knees for me.” you suggest, pouting your lips like it’s a valid option. your nails tap against the wooden table.
bakugou splutters. yes he’s thought about this, yes in the agency, yes with you. but now faced with the opportunity he’s a fumbling idiot, “i’m not doin' shit for you in the agency. we fuckin’ work here.”
you roll your eyes like a spoilt princess. hand on his chest to push him away from you, “fine then, i’m going to get ready for my session—,”
bakugou can only think of you going to get it from someone else, someone in the agency, one of your beloved fans, just anyone fucking else that isn’t him. his cock pulses against his zipper, he feels as if he’s losing blood to his brain.
“for fucks sake,” he wraps his fingers around your wrist to shove you back onto the table and to your joy, dynamight gets on his knees for you.
you giggle, fucking giggle at him, as he flips up your skirt to face your plain white laced underwear. the band is the same as that brand sponsor you were showing your girlfriends earlier. he cocks his jaw at the patch of wetness, a dark grey that highlights the shape of you.
“you don’t wear shorts under this? you want all the fuckin’ losers here to see your pussy?” he curses, barely able to contain himself. you notice him reach down to adjust himself, pressing his palm on his crotch for some type of release.
“i put them on later, dynamight. they’re a little suffocating.” you rake your hands through his hair, catching him by surprise. he’s like a dog when he leans into you, surprised he likes it himself, “i’ve always wanted to do that. you’ve got such thick hair.”
it’s the compliments. the fact you’ve thought about him.
“katsuki. my name is katsuki.”
you don’t have it in you to reply yet as katsuki roughly pulls down your panties and presses on your stomach so you lean back. you obey, letting him push apart your thighs.
the groan he releases is the best praise you could ever get, how he stuffs his head between your legs and inhales, his eyes closing shut.
“you’re so fuckin’… fuck,”
he feels obsessed, addicted just by sight and smell. what pisses him off the most is that he knew you’d be like this, fucking pretty everywhere. with your neat patch of hair and your clit, a bulging little button right at the top. your hole tenses around nothing and bakugou only feels like a virgin in this the moment, acting on instinct because he’s never eaten a woman out before.
fuck knows he’s not admitting that to you.
“i’m what, katsuki?”
“you’re gorgeous, i don’t needa tell you.”
“my first compliment from you. i’m so lucky,” you drawl, opting to lay back on your forearms and hang your head back. he’s not sure if you give a fuck about him, he’s not sure if he even cares right now.
bakugou lifts your thigh onto his shoulder, holding your hips down and putting his face where he’s wanted. he goes off your reactions, your moans and twitches.
he knows when he’s doing particularly good when you grip a tuft of his hair, holding him to your pussy with strength he didn’t know you possessed. he laps you up, swallows what he can. it’s your clit that drives you insane, every suck has you gasping abruptly, your hand flying to your mouth so you’re not loud. every time he moans into you, your thigh jolts, squeezing his head and locking him in. he thinks you’re close, when your breathing begins to stutter, your chest rising so far up your breasts cover your face.
that’s when he takes his lips off you, just for a second but that’s enough for you to look down at him with a glare that rivals his on his worst days.
“why’d you stop?” as soon as the words leave your lips you’re faced with a picture of sex. your clit rings a dull throb through you at the sight of bakugou katsuki, lower half of his face coated in your shine as he leans against your thigh, aroused out of his mind, eyes half shut. you might have bitten off more you can chew with this one.
“patience. did nobody teach you that?” he rolls his eyes at you.
though he’s not up for torturing you for long as he presses his lips into your thigh at the same time two of his thick fingers slide into you. it feels delightful, pleasure spreading through you like waves hitting rocks. he curls his fingers, brushes them against your walls and creates a rhythm, one that sounds wet and gushy.
“katsuki… oh fuck, you’re so, this feels so good,”
bakugou’s first smile when he landed in this city rises on his cheeks because he’d be an idiot not to with words like that from a woman as gorgeous as you. his first time doing foreplay and he’s got you shaking, gripping the wrist he’s fingering you with for stability.
he bites down on your thigh and your hand finds your mouth again, biting down on your fingers so you shut up.
“next time we’re doing this it’s in my fuckin’ apartment like i said. i wanna hear you scream for me.”
once he’s sure he’s left bruises along your thighs, he kisses your clit, fingers pistoling inside you.
“you gonna come for me, pretty girl? you look like you’re fallin’ apart.” he’s grinning like a mad man, all his teeth on show, holding your legs apart because they keep trying to lock around his head.
“y-yes, katsuki. wanna come so bad,” you splutter, fingers in his hair, laying back against the table. “please.”
he lets you, lips around your clit as he sucks harshly, lacking any finesse but that’s how you like it apparently. messy, rough, everything. he keeps his fingers going as you begin to mumble shit he can’t make out. your back arches off the table, thighs tensed.
you’re orgasming, you’re coming on his fucking face.
“oh my fuh—oh,” you garble, then a gasp and a trapped moan against your hand.
bakugou keeps going until you push him off you with a hand on his forehead. he moves, blinking up at you dazed, his smile refusing to die down. getting a job done, fuck, making you orgasm feels better than whatever he’s ever done before. in his sex life, in his career.
“s-sorry overstimulated,” you breathe, laying back on the table just to regulate yourself. getting your breathing back to normal, your thoughts out of the fuzzy desperation of a release.
bakugou stands up, cock painfully pressed against his cargos though he doesn’t touch himself. just looks at where your skirt is still unflipped as he sucks his two fingers, then wipes across his face with the back of his hand.
“you have a pretty smile,” you say, slowly sitting up.
you look exhausted, sleepy, definitely not as lively as you usually look in the morning. all because of him.
“fuck off with the compliments,” he rumbles. the smile drops as soon as it arrives, instead being replaced with a hot flush on his cheeks.
“you love them. if anything katsuki,” you say sweetly, so sweet he’s following your lips for more, “i’d say you have a crush on me.”
“i like eating your pussy out,”
you roll your eyes, hopping off the table and pulling up your underwear to get ready to leave. you’re fixing your clothing, leaving your hair how it is. you look at the clock, you’ve both got ten more minutes.
“i already told you i like you. that’s the fuckin’ same as a crush.”
you look over at him, that few seconds of silence made him overthink. your cheeks swell simply at how cute the word sounds coming from his mouth. you hop back over to him to stand right under his chin. you like that he hasn’t asked for you to touch him, how he’s only touched himself once since you’ve been here.
“still don’t wanna date me?”
he can feel your breath on the lower half of his face and you can smell yourself on him. bakugou wants to kiss you, every neuron in his brain is telling him to do it. so he leans in, his top lip brushing against yours until your hand slips between both your lips.
“i don’t kiss on the first date or even before it,”
“you let me do all that before taking you out.”
“because you looked like you wanted to do it so badly, katsuki.”
“don’t make it sound like you let me do that for myself?”
“didn’t i?”
you spin out of his grasp, hand on the door knob, “walk out a few minutes after me and fix your hair. you look like you just gave me head.”
then you’re out and bakugou feels like ripping something apart when the first thing he hears is you thanking someone, a guy, for saying your hair looks pretty today.
he closes his eyes and counts to ten. then readjusts himself in his trousers. he takes his hand through his hair, using his phone camera to check he’s somewhat decent.
you drive him insane, you’re annoying, irritating. he turns out of the meeting room, back to where all the heroes are standing in time for training. he finds you first but you’re already immersed in a big group, chatting away while everyone listens like it’s gospel. it almost has his legs dragging towards you, until you notice him. you don’t stop talking but you wink at him. your left eye and you’ve reapplied gloss, lips shiny.
he’s fucked and what’s worse is he thinks he dug his own hole getting involved with you. especially as he can see another guy staring at you like you hung the moon and one with his head held high, storming over to you asking a question. you shake your head though, seeing you mouth something about training.
when the clock strikes for you to get started with training, you first look for bakugou. weaving through the crowd of heroes guided by his blonde head. once you begin to walk, you’re side by side and he brushes his fingers against yours.
“if i date you, you’re gonna claim me? stop all these other fuckers askin’ you out?”
“i’m not a possession, katsuki. depends on how the dates go.” then you mumble something to your friend, nodding. then back to him, “i’ll see you later, okay?”
it’s the first time he notices a wave of questioning in you and bakugou wants to quell that flame instantly.
“yeah. yes. later.”
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