Idk what this is but the thought of you being scared of Bakugos quirk is so hot to me
Tw:noncon, predatory behavior
“I swear he’s getting to be more and more like a villain every time I see him,” you giggle with Mina as you two walk out of the class. Bakugo had yet again exploded at one of your shared teachers for correcting him in his pronunciation of a word, and as usual it was quite a scene to behold. Chairs were almost thrown, his friends had to hold him back from leaping up while others egged him on, itching for amusement in their mind-numbingly dull class.
“Maybe Shigaraki was right,” your pink-haired friend snorts and you both collapse in wheezes, clawing and slapping at each other’s shoulders as the ludicrous image of Shigaraki being unable to reign in Bakugo comes to mind.
“Hey ladies, what’re you two laughing about?” A lilting and charming voice comes right at your ear, and you turn to see Denki, Kirishima and…Bakugo walking next to you.
Just because of his proximity and how you were literally just talking about him two seconds ago, you jump away from Bakugo’s glowering face and not so subtly hide behind Mina in a half playful jest.
“Huh? Whatcha ya jumpin’ around for?” Kirishima laughs and you exchange an embarrassed look with Mina.
“Oh nothing, we were just talking about how Bakugo’s quirk is totally villainous. We’re lucky he’s on our side,” Mina singsongs, but you slap her arm in alarm.
And well placed alarm at that, because Bakugo’s scowl deepens as he turns his head to you in a death-glare. You swallow hard seeing his expression and try to nervously laugh.
“But, uh, we were just joking. Right Mina?” You give her a pointed look and she deflects it happily.
“Nope! At least you weren’t, you’re half scared to death of him, isn’t that right Y/N?”
Denki interrupts before you can sputter in horror.
“Honestly, who isn’t scared of this dude?” He claps the other blond on his back and yelps when Bakugo’s hands start curling with smoke.
“Watch it dumbass.” He cranes his head to meet your eyes, but when he finds that you’re still avoiding eye contact with him he starts moving around his friends to better talk to you.
“My quirk isn’t that scary you idiot. It’s not like I care enough about any of you to blow you up-“
But with the smoke still curling form his hands and with the permanently intimidating scowl on his face reading closer and close to your, you can’t help but squeal and scrabble around him to sink your nails into Kirishima’s shoulders for protection.
“Okay, I get it! You don’t have to come any closer, I can see fine from here.” Your voice comes out too high and strained to be deemed as joking, but nonetheless everyone laughs at your dramatic show.
Everyone but Katsuki. Because he can see you’re actually scared, he’s seen it a hundred times on civilians who try to pretend they’re fine but still have that panicked glint in their eye.
“Jesus Y/N, with a reaction like that maybe he really is a villain. Bakubro, want us to send you back to Shigaraki’s place? Maybe you should reconsider his offer.”
And finally at Denki’s quip everyone including you this time laughs again in playful agreement, but yet again Bakugo’s blood starts simmering further.
Why the fuck were you being so obnoxious? He didn’t do anything to you before, right? So why the hell were you embarrassing him in front of all his friends and making him out to be this bloodthirsty monster?
Well, whatever. If a monster is what you want, then a monster is what you’ll get.
And so he waits for you after school, trailing behind you a couple hundred feet yet still keeping you in sight. He curses when you giggle with your friends, no doubt in his mind that you’re still throwing dirt on his name and he swears under his breath when you talk to Deku and his dweeb friends.
Of course when you hang around ditzy dorks like Deku he’s gonna look like a psycho in comparison.
But at one point you’re by the vending machine alone in a deserted hallway, fumbling with your coins and trying to quickly get a soda before your friends up ahead leave.
Too bad for you, because when he’s done with you they’ll never want to be seen with you again for their own safety.
You’re shoving money in the slot when he silently walks up a couple feet behind you.
“No friends around to gossip about me?”
You shriek and jump a good foot in the air at the sudden voice behind you. Clutching your heaving chest, you whirl around to see who it is.
Your blood runs cold. It’s Katsuki Bakugo, the absolute last person you want to be alone with in a deserted hallway.
Your feet move a step back.
Wrong move.
His nostrils flare and his eyes widen at your insulting retreat. You know he doesn’t take kindly to it, but with an expression like that how could you not?
“Uh, w-what do you mean?” You chuckle nervously.
He doesn’t laugh. In fact, he does something worse.
He matches your steps and moves forward a little bit.
At this you fully take a stride backwards and clash with the vending machine behind you.
He keeps advancing, slowly getting closer and checking you out, his head tilted as his eyes roam up and down your vulnerable body.
“Don’t move back. Why the fuck did you move away from me? That’s rude, we were just having a normal conversation.”
You surprise yourself by sounding level-headed in retaliation. “‘Kinda hard not to be a little uncomfortable when your conversation sounds so accusing.”
He lunges forward and you actually scream this time, throwing your hands up above your head in instinct to protect yourself from his proximity.
Bakugo doesn’t touch you but you can still feel his breath puffing on your head, can still feel the heat from his hands on either side of your body.
“You got a smart mouth don’t you? Is that why you embarrassed me earlier in front of everyone?”
“Embarrassed you-?” You squeak but immediately cut off when he thrusts his face right in front of yours, a manic look on his face as all his facial features stretch into a irate leer.
“I guess we’ll have to fix that tongue of yours. Put it to better use than to talk shit about me, right?”
Vermilion irises move from your face down your body, lingering on your chest and at the apex in between your legs.
Bile rises to your throat as he licks his lips and lets his lips ghost over yours, oh so close yet not touching.
And in the second before he descends, you shove him off with nothing but pure adrenaline feeling your fear and race past him, blindly running down the halls as fast as you can.
Surprisingly, you don’t hear anyone behind you. That doesn’t mean you don’t stop running though.
The real reason you don’t hear anyone behind you is because Katsuki Bakugo has an eerie smile on his face at your bolt. He languidly stretches his arms above his head and relishes in the popping of his joints, and in succession the popping of sparks in his hand. He kicks one leg out, then the other just to ensure you get a fair head start.
You’ve just made this so much more interesting.
He sets off at a light jog, and even in his carefree pace his strides are enough to eventually catch up with you, instinct like an animal’s guiding him through the winding halls and ending up catching a glimpse of your feet as you turn into another lane.
You’re panting, sweat pouring down your eyes as panic makes it hard to breathe or think rationally. The adrenaline that was pushing you is now dying down but at the worst time.
You take a quick glance back and your rapidly beating heart falters as you see him with a grin on his face as he practically jogs leisurely behind you. You’ve seen this same face on him when he’s in the battlefield, blasting through enemy hearts and blowing up heads as if they were fireworks.
He’s bloodthirsty. He wants you.
“Running away again? That’s not very heroic of you babe,” he calls out, and it’s terrifyingly infuriating how he’s not out of breath.
“Leave me the fuck alone,” you half scream and sob, trying to run faster but failing miserably.
You see a bathroom sign out of the corner of your eye and frantically stumble towards it.
Katsuki knows you know he’s even you take a turn and he laughs to himself at how boringly easy this is.
Maybe he was scary.
He shakes it off and continues his hunt after you, coming forth until he faces the bathroom door in which you were cowering behind.
There’s a small window, and no other door. Just a couple of stalls, a terrified girl, and a psycho with the taste of revenge practically palpable on his lustful tongue.
He knock with faux politeness. “You wanna come out and do this the easy way or you want me to barge in and take you myself?”
You sob and wheeze in response, desperately pushing against the flimsy door in a pathetic attempt to keep him out. Bakugo merely crosses his arms and leans against the door, staring intently at it with a smile still on his face.
Judging by the weight pushing more at the bottom of the door, he can tell you’re probably sitting down in an effort to catch your breath.
You both know he can come in at any time he so well pleases, but he decides he’ll play by your rules for a bit longer, indulge you a little before your inevitable downfall.
He hums loudly and slides down to join your parallel position on the floor.
“I’m tryina be nice here, y’know. You acted so scared of me when I never even bothered you before. Aren’t I being nice right now by letting you choose for yourself?”
He sounds so conversational, as if he were talking to one of his buddies. You stay silent but your silence speaks volumes.
It serves as nothing but a means to piss him off further.
The two of you sit in silence for seemingly hours, even though it’s only around 20 minutes. Every second you feel like he’s going to break down the door any second and blast your face off, but miraculously he doesn’t.
You don’t know what you’d rather prefer: for him to prolong your strained agony by letting you be so close yet so far from him, or to end your suffering and get it done with.
But you needn’t sit in silence stewing in your own fear any further, for at the exact moment you begin to doze off with the dying of the light the weight on the other side of the door lifts and you startle awake at the scuffling on the other side.
You blink a couple of times and blanch when you see through the window the purple light indicating that you really have been here longer than you thought.
Bakugo cracks his knuckles and rolls his head, popping a few more kinks in his neck before breathing out and bracing for impact.
“Ready or not little bitch, here I come.”
“Bakugo, wait-!”
But your plea doesn’t last for more than two words. The door bangs open with such a sound that you actually think he’s blasted it straight off his hinges. You gasp and shield yourself, jumping backwards and covering your face.
“‘Thought I made it clear by now that you can’t run. So why’d you try to leave? Huh? Think you’re smarter than me? You think you’re stronger than me?”
He’s stalking forward again, and you’re left tripping back over your feet and whimpering at his salacious intent as he backs you up and corners you into a stall.
He already knows the answers to his rhetorical questions but he wants to hear you say it. He wants to hear that scornful conviction in your voice about how big and bad he was that you used earlier.
With you tripping backwards into the cramped stall, his approach quickens in hunger at feeling you, feeling the fear radiating off your body.
Bakugo presses up against you against the wall and takes up the space around you, invading your personal bubble. He’s everywhere, growling in your ear, hands gripping your waist so tight you’re sure bruises sprout from his touch, his erect penis grinding on the inside of your thigh.
Your trepidation and terror rises to an insurmountable height as he smothers you.
When he suddenly grips your chin and forces your head to face him you gasp. His touch is even more callous than you thought.
“You lookin’ here bitch? Good.”
His palm is raised towards you and before you can even widen your eyes in realization his appendage starts sparking madly. You shriek and try to throw him loose as little bits of embers fly out and made your face, his voice rough as always yet dangerously low and soft.
“S’not so scary after all is it? You’re reacting better to it than I thought.” Bakugo Blanca you mocks your writhing figure as you desperately try to evade the mini explosions.
“Okay, I get it, please stop I don’t like it!” You shrilly cry out but his hand moves from your jaw down to your neck, and squeezes the last remnants of opposition out of you.
“Yeah? Good, I’m glad you get it. But honestly, I don’t care if you don’t like it.
Because I like it. I fucking love this quirk, ‘specially when you cower so prettily under it like you did earlier.”
You choke and try to scrabble at his hands but it’s like a butterfly’s touch to him, barely producing any fruition.
“I kept wondering to myself: why do I care if she’s scared of it? And then I realized,” he leans in and lets his lips brush over your ear, lets his hand lessen ever so slightly so that your main focus is his words.
“You just looked good enough to eat when you know you’re beneath me. When you know how dangerous I am.”
He pulls back and assesses the look on your face. “Makes you look good enough to eat.”
And without further ado he lowers his hand and starts rubbing his alit palm on your clothed pussy, his erection getting harder as your screams wilt into whines.
Your legs flail uselessly as he burns a hole through your pants and his fingers hook aside the band of your panties.
Bakugo thrusts his hips forwards and grinds his straining cock on your moist lips, taking in your blubbers and teary eyes.
You can’t even speak, you can only cry out like a child as he thrusts harder and harder, so hard that your back hits the wall painful and the stall walls rattle behind you.
“You-pant-fucking scared-pant-now slut?” He rasps, his head bobbing on rhythm with yours as he practically lifts you off your toes to match his pace.
Your clit is caught between the fabric and rolled cruelly pleasurable as his tip leaks precum, staining your own panties in the process.
With your attention rapt on his now-uncovered dick sliding in and out of your folds, he takes this opportunity to take his other hand off your neck and blast the wall next to your face.
The second you open your mouth in shock as bits of tile rain down on your face he slams his steaming palm over your lips, burning the soft flesh as you weep openly.
He sets off two more near your sides and another above your head, his own face aligned right in front of yours so you can see the mean smile on his face all the while he sets your heart racing at an alarming speed.
When the smoke clears and you can start feeling glass and tile imprint on your once-smooth face, he positions his dick up so that it prods at your hole and yanks your hair back.
His eyes practically glow with the mini fires preserved in the walls with his blasts, the impact of the air rushing around him makes his hair even spikier, his body is taunt and even more imposing than before.
His teeth gleam with the orange and red light next to you. His chest doesn’t heave, because he’s at ease with your terror.
“You think you know fear?”
With one swift movement he shoves up into you, but this time he doesn’t cover your mouth.
“You haven’t met me truly yet.”
