note: idk whag tjr fuck this is.. but it’s something.. i’ve always kinda had this idea way way back.. i promise i’ll write something better with this idea in mind but i just wanted to get it out there. ngl it don’t make sense and it’s kinda rushed since i vomited it out.
Something’s wrong.
As a pro hero, Bakugou was trained to raise and prune a sixth sense when it comes to danger.. trouble.. mischief. Not only was he supposed to have fast reaction, but a calm one as well..
But there’s something in the air that makes him feel sick tonight. Something so dizzying, it makes his chest tighten and throat swell up. There’s something heavy that lays in his gut, turning and shifting as he trudges to his front door. He purses his lips..
The porch light that you had been nagging him about no longer flickers, and the crickets that usually sing to the moon seem to refuse to play their melody tonight. The weight in his stomach continues to roll around in his stomach, crushing and flattening his nerves. His gloved hand tightly bunches up, trying to ease this.. feeling.
When he enters his home, the front door no longer creaks. Just like the flickering porch light, you had nagged him to get oil to fix the creak since it played with your ears’ nerves despicably. The street light pours into the genkan*, as he scans the house. Darkness burdens half of the hallway and the living room, the street light not malleable enough to reach it.
It’s quiet..
Bakugou closes the door with heavy shoulders, as he began toeing off his shoes. He doesn’t bother turning on the hallway light, not wanting to scorch his eyes with the fluorescent light. The index and middle finger hooks into the back of his shoe. His back is hunched over as he looks for the spot he usually parks his shoes at— right next to yours.
Wait.
His black slip ons are out. Usually, they sit in the shoe drawer on the left side of him—reserved for days off. He furrows his brows. He doesn’t remember placing them there. Annoyed, Bakugou plucks them up and throws them into the—
There’s another pair.. The same exact ones..
Did you buy another one for him?
He usually wouldn’t think much of it, but tonight he feels uneasy. The shoes clatter to the floor as his sock-clad feet begging to meander their way to his bedroom. He glares into the darkness as he passes the living room and kitchen. Trying to spot any kind of deformity in his home.
His ear prickle when he hears your voice behind the bedroom door. A shiver rolls through his back as he touched the door knob. Something’s wrong, He admits to himself, twisting the knob. He pushes the door open. There’s crack in it now.
“I missed you,” You whine. “I missed you so much.”
Bakugou pushes the door even more as his heart drops at the sound, at your words.
He feels sick. The heavy weight in his stomach pierces through his skin, and the air starts to chokes him for all he’s worth. Tears begin to sprout from his eyes as his muscles locked him in place, shocked at the scene before him.
You were naked. Your back facing towards him as you bounced on another man’s lap. You were hunched over keening and moaning, singing words that supposed to be only made for him:
missed you so-so much,
make me feel so good.
Love you. I Love you. I love you so much.
baby, please. want you so bad..
love your cock so much…
He could see hands cling onto your hips as your cunt slobbered all over the man’s cock as he thrusted up against you, splitting you open. Moans fall out of your mouth as that stupid fuck used your hole. Fuck, he wanted throw you off of him. He wanted to kill the man that’s fucking his wife… but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. All he could do is watch in shock as he tried to push the hiccups down his throat and hush his weeping heart.
He was such a terrible husband. He should’ve known this was coming. He should’ve known that you would leave him for another man. He knew that if he kept on keeping the bed cold, you would find someone else to warm it up.
He kept on missing dates. Coming home late. Arguing with you for the past few months.. Leaving you home alone…
When was the last time the two of you even fucked?
You were bound to be leave him.
“Katsuki, baby, pleaseplease please please..”You moaned out loud, pulling him out of his thoughts. He shuffles a little closer, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Mm, that’s right, baby,” He hears the man growl. “Beg for it. Beg for me, baby. Fuck, you feel so good.”
His eyes widen as he sees the man’s face. Platinum blonde hair is stuck to his forehead as he works to unravel his pretty little wife. His lips parted as he groans and moans at the feeling of her tight cunt wrapped around him.
“Tell me how much ya miss me, baby.” He coos to you. He sounds exactly like him, he thinks to himself in shock.
You let out a sob,“Missed you so much., ‘Tsuki…” You whine, your body now laying on top of him. Your tits pressed against his chest as he continued to thrust his cock deeply into your cunt. “Think about you so much..” you added on.
“‘m such a bad husband, right?” He smiles up at you, and you nod, dumbly. “gonna replace him.. gonna treat you right, baby. gonna make you my number one… I love you, baby. love you. love you so much.” He babbles.
You and the man cum within seconds.. Your body shakes and tenses while he moans out praises, pumping you full of his cum. He grinds you lazily against his cock, riding out your orgasm with a smirk.
“I love you, Katsuki.” You murmurs in the crook of his neck, all fucked out.
Bakugou’s eyes meets his red ones. They pierce through his soul. An all too familiar smirk stretches across the man’s face.. A smirk he sees in mirrors, photoshoots. There’s something behind that smile.. Behind those eyes. something sinister…something wrong.. His stomach curls into many emotions as he had just watched an imposter fucks his wife.
info : 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Dark Content, Gore, disembowelment, blood, handjobs, yandere! reader, AFAB! reader, no pronouns mentioned (?)
synopsis : You wanna be with him, around him and in him.
WC : 1.1k
note: no way.. a gore fic as my debut fic back?? I wrote this bc I was stressed, and I needed something scary or just a little disturbing— i don’t condone anything that happens here 👍. It was supposed to be short.. but y’know.. things happen. Also forgive me, I’m a little rusty it’s been a while…so.. zzz
Katsuki leaves breadcrumbs of compassion in the searing desert of his brashness. His distastefulness scratches and claws at you spitefully, but the rarity of his kindness is cooling and almost like a masochistic reward.
He was an icy cold drink spiked with alcohol. You take him in, and you feel a chill. The kind of chill that wracks your brain with hurt, makes your jaw clench and creak. There’s a bitterness that laces your tongue, and you can't help but scrunch up your face in disgust.
But then you feel something grow within you. A feeling that starts at your face and travels down to your toes. It melts the muscles off of your bones. It’s warming and almost inviting.
It’s addicting. He is addicting.
Before you knew it, you craved for that searing, coldness just to receive the reward in the end. Every little taste of his kindness. His love. His smile.. It rejuvenated you. You needed it. You needed him. You needed to be buried within his love.
Within him.
Blood dries a lot quicker than you expected. You feel it dig into the crevice of your fingernails, bury itself in the creases of your palms, and the hammock itself on the webs of your bloody fingers. A tingle of electricity goes through your body as you clench and unclench your hands. The stickiness of the dry fluid lightly tugs at your flesh, pulling them apart from each other before releasing themselves from the red.
“You’re so dirty..”
You murmur against his cheek with a smile. You feel him bristle under you as your dry lips tickle his delicate skin. You lean forward and spat out a glob of spit on his throbbing cock. Both of your fluids mix together. The sticky substance thinning out into something slippery. You drag your fist up and down his thickness, feeling every groove rub against the texture of your fingers.
You squeeze your thighs together, imaging every nook and nerve blessed onto his pretty cock rubbing against your slick and tight walls. Your chest tightens with excitement, squeezing out a little moan from your mouth.
Katsuki is quiet. Any kind of curse, plead or cry dies and rots on his tongue. His gorgeous, red eyes are shot wide open. Watching as your bloody hand encase itself around his cock, dragging itself up and down at a fast and almost desperate pace, as he tries to ignore the sickly pink and purples of his intestines practically slide out of the big slit you cut from his stomach.
The occasional sniffle and hiccup that brings itself out in between his heavy breathing earn him a coo of appraisal from you. You give him kisses that are too sweet for someone as sick as you. You press his tears away with your lips and sometimes drag your tongue along his cold cheek if you weren’t satisfied with just the kisses. Needing to taste the salty essence of his tears.
There’s an animalistic coil that tightens in the depths of your rib cage when a cute little whimper escapes Katsuki’s mouth. Where adoration and aggression coincide and become wicked thoughts. A sudden urge to do anything and everything to him makes you grit your teeth, but you stop yourself. You had to be patient and gentle with him, you remind yourself. You couldn’t just fist your hand through his “stuffing”.
You slowly moved your hand back up to the mess of pretty pinks and purples. Katsuki instinctively lets out a cry when you gently sink your fingers into his bloody mess. A sick, squelching noise exudes from your fingers’ pressure. “You’re fine, baby.” You try and soothe him with a couple of shushes, though your reassurance makes him cry out even more. Ignoring his sobs, You twist your wrist. Allowing his essence to coat your hand even more.
“See? It wasn’t that bad, was it?” You smile at him as you pulled your hand out. “I bet you didn’t even feel a thing. It’s just all in your head baby.”
He remains silent as your jolly eyes devour him. His once frightened eyes melt into something more relaxed and peaceful. His tears remain dribbling down his delicate cheeks, brightening up his jeweled eyes. His pretty lips were no longer quivering.
God, you love him.
Your eyes linger around his lips as your hand returns to you. They looked soft and plush, though a bit chapped. Their original pink color was taken from his lips. A bit unfortunate, but nothing you can’t fix.
Your bloodied hands travel down your pants and bury themselves under the elastic of your panties. A mixture of a giggle and a moan escapes your sadistic lips as you rubbed your bloody fingers along your slick and puffy lips. Your whole body is buzzing with excitement as the idea of both of your essence mixing shoots through you. You allow yourself to rub a single circle around your clit, making you jolt and whimper before pulling your hand out.
There’s a glittery web of pink that travels between your fingers. A pretty color, if you were being honest. Something any girl would kill to wear on their lips. Your man never surprises you. He’s amazing.
You lean closer to his face, feeling his heavy breathing tickle your cheek as you press your blood-sinned fingers up to his chapped lips. Katsuki scrunches his nose, but that’s all. Your trace his lips with your concoction, purring happily.
Your hand sinks back down and resumes to please your lover. The mixture of two of your guys’ essence squelching as you fucked his cock with your tight fist. A whine that escapes Katsuki’s lips illicit you to press an adoring, wet kiss against his mouth. He squirms under the press of your loving kiss.
Katsuki lets out a yell when he cums, spreading all of his love all over your hand and on his insides. You give him a couple of good pumps to help ride out his orgasm. He lets out a sob when your assistance is a little too much, squirming at the overstimulation. You pull your sticky hands from his softened cock and lick up his essence from your hand as you admire the fucked out expression on his face.
His breathing is soft, and his ruby-red eyes wander to the corner of the room. His pretty lashes flutter as he tries and keeps himself awake. Your fingers find themselves carding through his locks as you press a kiss to his forehead. The red tint from his lips is imprinted on his forehead as the shape of your lips.
You bend down. Your eyes peering into his empty ones, “You love me, right?”
He doesn’t look at you,“I think I’m fucking dying..” His voice is soft and delicate.. All just for you.
CW : implication of toxic relationship, fem! reader, short, not a beta read (yay!), sexual implications, plot twist at the end (eh), baby trapping, Blogs w/ no age indicators and minors DO NOT INTERACT
synopsis: Bakugou Likes It When You Hurt Him..
WC: 667
note : this has been on my mind all day. also i’m sorry y’all this is kinda shit 😭
Bakugou loves pleasing you. He loves kissing the ground you walk on. He loves scripting every praise in head, hoping to shower you with them every time you meet.
You’re an enigma. An enigma that seems to be hidden from the world’s eyes. You were like spiderweb. A thing that is barely visible until you walk a little to the left to find something so lacy and intricate. Just like every spiderweb, there lies a poisonous spider right in the heart of its home.
You were venomous, and he liked that.
Your mouth held poison every time you spoke to him. Your sharp tongue flayed him open, and it hurt. It hurt so badly. You’d insult every little stitch and weave of his soul. All his actions were unacceptable to you.
But when you love him tenderly, your venom became an elixir. It was like hot lava oozing onto him. It was slow and hot. It makes a hard man like him pliable. Every time your warm lips pepper his body, he can’t help but weep. Every praise you spin from your lips, makes his whole body ache.
When you make love, he knows you’re probably thinking of someone else because you bite your lip like you’re trying not to spill anything. He begs you to look at him when he pumps his cock into you. You look at him for a minute before turning your head over and closing your eyes. He ignores his instincts and blames it on you being his shy girl.
It makes him angry that you don’t love him like he does. It makes him want to scream and cry. It makes him want to tear the city in half and kill anyone whom possibly could be your type.
To keep him in line, you would always threaten to leave him. The results always ending up in the same way, he’s nose is buried in your plush stomach while he squeezes your thighs together with his arms. Your entire being is weighed down by a babbling, sobbing hero who’s begging you to stay with him.
You didn’t like the way he fucked you. You didn’t like the way he stomped around. You didn’t like his haircut. You didn’t like the way he dressed, and his kisses were always a little too dry or a little too wet for you.
You didn’t like him, but that’s okay. As long as you didn’t hate him, he could still keep loving you.
Bakugou knows that you like how love sick he is for you. He knows that he’s wrapped around your pretty finger, ready to be suffocated by your pinching fingers.
When Bakugou saw you kiss a man, something in him snapped.
His memory was spotty, but he remembers the sweet kiss you shared in that alley. You sobbed when his bloody hand cupped your supple cheeks. The beaten and crips corpse of your friend laid right next to your stained shoes.
Ever since then, he thinks that two of you have been happier. The two of you finally moved into his safe and secure house. He knows you love it since you never leave the house. It wasn’t like you had a choice.
When you make love, tears fall from your face and you finally moan. Your sounds were no longer trapped in between your teeth and bottom lip. You still won’t look at him, but he thinks you’re just scrunching your face from all the pleasure his cock has brought to you.
Everything seems perfect.
Although, you’re not like your usual self. You aren’t as mean as he remembered. You slap and hiss at him, but you don’t insult him. You shake whenever he gets close to you. Even when he buries his nose in your swelling stomach and look up at you, your eyes are dull and not as entertained.
He misses the old you, and he hopes you feel better once the baby is born. They say post partum hits badly.
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