GOOD BOY, BAD ATTITUDE.
day one: brat taming — katsuki bakugo
⚠️ Content Warnings / Tags: NSFW / 18+ Brat‑taming dynamic Dom/sub undertones (reader taking control) Rough language / insults / degradation (verbal) Orgasm denial / edging Cockplay & nipple play Praise kink Slight humiliation / power struggle Consensual power exchange Aftercare implied
enjoy!
your boyfriend is in one of those moods again. the kind where he can’t stop sneering, voice dripping with insult even as he’s tugging you closer by the waistband of your shorts.
“the fuck are you smiling at? you look stupid.” his tone is mean, sharper than it needs to be. he says it because he knows it’ll spark that glint in your eye, because he wants the attention. katsuki bakugo is never gentle with his words, and today he’s even less patient than usual.
you smooth your thumb over the sharp cut of his jaw, smiling softer just to irritate him further. “smiling at you, baby. you’re pretty when you’re angry.”
his scowl deepens. “don’t call me pretty, dumbass. i’ll knock that smug look right off your face.” he snaps, but his hands don’t leave your body. they grip tighter, pulling you into his lap on the edge of the bed, thighs flexing under you like he’s ready to spring.
you know better than to back down. katsuki thrives on push-and-pull, the constant battle of wills, but what he doesn’t realize—what he always forgets—is how much you love peeling him down into something softer. you know how to drag him into submission without him ever noticing he’s sinking.
“i like when you talk tough,” you murmur, brushing your nose against his. “gets me all worked up.”
his laugh is sharp, mocking. “tch. you’re such a fuckin’ perv. always wet just ‘cause i call you names.” his hand slips down between you like he’s about to prove it, but you catch his wrist, pinning it back to the mattress with lazy strength.
his crimson eyes widen, then narrow. “the fuck you think you’re doing?”
“taking control, baby. you’re too worked up to touch.”
he barks out a laugh, chest heaving against yours. “you? controlling me? don’t make me laugh, princess.” he spits the word like venom, daring you to react.
you only kiss his cheek sweetly, still pinning his wrist. “yeah, me. don’t worry, i’ll take care of you. even if you’re being a little mean.”
his ears flush red. “i’m not—”
you cut him off with your hand slipping under his shirt, nails dragging lightly over the ridges of his stomach until he shudders. his protest dies in his throat, replaced by a low growl.
“don’t start this shit,” he warns, but there’s already heat flooding his skin under your touch.
you lean down, voice syrupy soft, lips brushing his ear. “relax, katsuki. let me.”
he jerks against your grip, testing. “i said i’m not lettin’ you do—”
your other hand slides higher, thumb flicking over his nipple, and his words collapse into a sharp inhale.
there it is. the weak spot he hates admitting to.
“fuck off,” he grits, but his chest arches into your palm before he can stop it.
you grin, rubbing gentle circles around the hard peak, tugging just enough to make him gasp. “see? feels good, doesn’t it?”
“shut the hell up.” his voice cracks just slightly, betraying him.
you press a kiss to his throat, slow and sweet, pinching lightly until he squirms. “it’s okay, baby. you don’t have to say it. i’ll get you there nice and slow.”
his free hand fists the sheets, knuckles pale. “i’m not some fuckin’ toy for you to mess with.”
you hum, dragging your tongue up his pulse point. “you’re right. you’re my boyfriend. i like taking care of my boyfriend.”
he snarls, trying to keep the upper hand even as his nipples harden under your teasing fingers. “you’re gonna regret this when i flip you over.”
“maybe,” you whisper against his skin, pinching harder until he gasps, “but for now, you’re not going anywhere.”
you don’t let him. you edge him with featherlight strokes, then sharp pinches, switching between his nipples until his back bows off the bed. every time he starts to grind up against you for relief, you pull back, keeping him just shy of satisfaction.
“fuck you,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.
“language,” you chide sweetly, leaning back just enough to look at him. his hair is wild against the pillow, eyes blazing with frustration, chest flushed pink. “be nice to me or i’ll stop.”
“bullshit,” he spits immediately. “you’re too fuckin’ needy to stop.”
your smile doesn’t falter. “maybe. but i could make you wait all night, katsuki. just touching your pretty chest, watching you squirm.”
he growls deep in his throat, jerking against your grip, but he can’t shake you off. his breathing is ragged now, each twist of your fingers making his hips twitch.
“say please,” you coax, voice dripping with patience.
“never.” his answer is immediate, sharp, defiant.
so you pinch both nipples at once, rolling them between your fingers until he yells, hips bucking uncontrollably.
“ah—fuck! stop!”
you let go instantly, soothing with soft rubs and a kiss to his sternum. “shh, it’s okay, baby. you’re doing so good for me.”
his chest heaves, eyes glassy with the edges of something he’d never admit to. “you’re—fuck—you’re crazy.”
“crazy about you,” you correct, kissing the corner of his mouth, sweet as ever. “and i know exactly how to handle you, katsuki.”
his lip curls, ready to snap again, but you’re already tugging his shirt higher, already lowering your mouth to his chest.
the second your tongue flicks over a sensitive nipple, his whole body jolts like you shocked him.
“don’t—don’t fuckin’—” his words break into a strangled sound when you suck lightly, teasing him with your mouth and fingers at once.
you hum against his skin, ignoring his weak thrashing, the sharp insults he throws between gasps. it takes patience, coaxing him through the bratty resistance, easing him closer to the edge without letting him fall.
every moan ripped from his throat makes your smile softer. you know he’ll break eventually.
he always does.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
his hips jerk up when your nails scrape lightly over the bulge, catching against the damp spot on his shorts. “f-fuckin’ tease,” he snaps, even as his breath catches. “you think you’re in control? i’ll wreck you the second you—”
you pinch his nipple hard enough to cut him off. katsuki’s head throws back with a strangled groan, his throat working as he swallows the sound down. his hands clench into fists at his sides, shaking with the effort not to grab you.
“you were saying, baby?” you murmur, soft as syrup, kissing his jaw like you didn’t just bring him to his knees with one little pinch. “hm? what was that?”
“tch—!” his words fail him again when you tug both buds at once, rolling them between your fingers. his hips buck instinctively, cock pressing helplessly against the soaked fabric of his shorts. there’s a wet stain spreading darker, his precum leaking so much it’s seeping through his boxers too.
“look at you,” you coo, your tone dipped in sugar while your touch stays sharp. you drag your nails across his chest, circle back to his nipples until they’re red and pebbled, raw from your attention. “hard as a rock, dripping through your shorts, all because i’m being ‘mean.’”
“sh-shut the fuck up,” katsuki spits, but his voice breaks halfway through, pitched higher, weaker than he wants. he jerks his hips again like he can find friction, but you slap your palm against the wet outline of his cock through the shorts — firm, controlling.
“ah-ah,” you sing gently, pressing down just enough to make him whine in his throat. “good boys don’t hump without permission.”
his glare sharpens, but his eyes are glassy now, pupils blown. “i’m not a fuckin’ good boy.”
you smile, leaning close enough to let your lips graze the corner of his mouth without giving him the kiss. “not yet.”
your fingers tweak his nipples again, relentless, dragging another choked noise from deep in his chest. the muscles in his thighs are trembling, his shorts so wet at the front it looks obscene.
he tries for another insult, tries to bark at you again, but what slips out is only a broken moan, shaky and wet, like his body has decided for him.
“hear that?” you whisper, stroking over his chest like you’re soothing him when really you’re setting every nerve alight. “you sound so pretty when you stop fighting me. maybe if you keep begging without words, i’ll let you come.”
katsuki’s whole body jerks at that, hips stuttering. “f-fuck you,” he snarls, but it’s thin, desperate, soaked through with need.
“baby,” you hum, dragging his soaked waistband down just enough to free his cock, flushed and leaking, precum drooling down the length and staining his thighs. “sweetheart, you’re already fucking yourself on my hand. look at you. dripping everywhere. shaking.”
his jaw drops at the sight — at himself, humiliated and turned on and trembling.
you cup his balls in one hand, gentle, almost reverent, while your other hand returns to his nipples, rolling and tugging them until he’s gasping for breath.
“don’t,” he warns, but his hips are rolling forward against your touch anyway, greedy for more friction.
“don’t what?” you ask innocently, twisting his nipple hard enough to make him cry out. “don’t stop? don’t make you fall apart? don’t show you what a good boy you can be?”
the word lands, heavy and hot, and his eyes squeeze shut like he’s trying to fight it, fight you, fight himself. but his cock leaks another messy spurt down his stomach, his chest heaving under your hands.
“fuck—fuckin’ hate you,” he pants, voice breaking.
you kiss the corner of his mouth again, soft and sweet, fingers never slowing. “i know, baby. i love you too.”
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
“what— you think just pullin’ my cock out’s gonna make me beg? get the fuck outta here,” he snaps, voice sharp even though his thighs twitch when your hand ghosts over his length. “i could get myself off faster than you’re—ah, fuck—”
your thumb brushes across his slit, spreading that slick down his shaft, and his words cut into a gasp. his hips buck once, betraying him, before he locks them down tight against the couch cushion. his eyes flash up at you like he’s daring you to mention it.
you only smile. sweet, steady. calm where he’s chaos.
“katsuki,” you murmur, thumb dragging slow circles over his flushed head, “you’re so wet for me. you’ve been dripping this whole time.”
“shut up,” he growls, but his voice cracks halfway, breaking on the shiver that runs down his spine when you squeeze his shaft just enough to make the blood pulse hot against your fingers. “don’t—don’t talk to me like i’m some fuckin’—”
“baby?” you finish for him, leaning down to kiss the sharp line of his jaw. “you are, though. look at you.”
his teeth clench like he wants to spit back another insult, but you catch his nipple between your fingers again, rolling it slow, and his whole body jerks. a raw noise bursts out of him—half-growl, half-moan—and he throws his head back against the couch.
“f-fuck, stop—”
“stop?” your hand drifts lazily down his cock, stroking him just enough to keep him trembling but never enough to give release. “you mean don’t stop.”
his chest heaves, sweat sliding down his collarbone. his cock twitches in your palm, leaking slick trails across your fingers, proof written all over his body that he doesn’t mean a single word of resistance anymore.
“you’re—fuck—you’re a pain in the ass,” he spits, but it’s breathless, ragged. his hips thrust weakly up into your fist, chasing friction he can’t control. “think you’re so good, huh? makin’ me wait—”
“mm,” you hum, pressing your thumb hard against his slit, and his words shatter into a groan. “i know i’m good. you’re the one who can’t keep your mouth shut long enough to admit you need me.”
he lets out a ragged laugh, wild and desperate. “like i’d—hahhh—ever fuckin’—admit—”
his words dissolve when you twist his nipple between two fingers, rolling it rough, while stroking him faster at the same time. his hips leave the couch, whole body bucking into your touch, like the bratty act is bleeding out of him drop by drop with every stroke.
“say it,” you whisper against his ear, soft and honey-sweet, a perfect contrast to the way you’re working him raw. “say you need me.”
his eyes squeeze shut, lips curling in a snarl, but another moan drags out of his chest, wrecked and needy. his cock kicks in your hand, precum smearing over your knuckles as you edge him higher.
“n-no—fuck you—”
“mm, you’re already fucking my hand, katsuki,” you murmur, kissing the sweat-damp side of his neck. “look at you. messy. leaking. so sweet when you’re like this.”
he bucks harder, panting like he’s losing ground fast, hands fisting the couch cushions because if he touches you he knows he’ll break.
“god, i hate you,” he gasps, voice wrecked, high and thin.
you smile against his throat, stroking him tight, squeezing just under his head until he’s trembling all over.
“no, baby. you love me like this.”
he cracks—right there, right then. a raw, helpless groan rips out of him, his head tipping back, throat bared, cock throbbing so hard in your hand it feels like he’s about to explode.
and still, you don’t let him come.
you slow your strokes, grip easing, letting him hover right at the edge while his chest heaves like he’s drowning. his eyes fly open, bloodshot and wild, and he actually pleads—
“don’t—don’t stop, please, fuck, i’ll—”
you tilt your head, all calm sweetness. “you’ll what?”
his mouth opens and closes, stubbornness fighting his own body, but his cock jerks helplessly, another spill of precum sliding down his length, betraying him more than words ever could.
“…need you,” he rasps finally, voice cracked and broken, nothing like the cocky bite he started with. “fuck, i need you.”
the words land hot between you, your smile soft as you finally stroke him faster, firmer, dragging him to the breaking point. he moans shamelessly now, hips thrusting up to meet every pass of your fist, all that bratty fire burned down into raw, aching need.
and when he comes, it’s messy, explosive, his whole body curling forward as thick ropes of cum spill over your hand, your wrist, his abs. he groans through it, half-snarling, half-whining, chest shuddering while you milk him for every drop.
when it’s over, he collapses back against the couch, panting hard, hair damp, eyes glassy with the edges of subspace.
you wipe your hand across his stomach, smearing his own mess over him, before leaning down to kiss his cheek.
“good boy,” you whisper. “see? you just needed me to take care of you.”
he groans again, weakly shoving at your shoulder, but his face burns crimson, and the way his chest rises soft and slow now tells you he’s gone pliant, boneless in your hands.
brat tamed.
⟡ made by @flxttershyz , please do not copy or repost without consent!!⟡
