[ofmermaidstories]

Bwahahahha Bakugo is like huh????? *the lil noodle is confused* lmaooooo

the longer he’s left standing there like a muppet the more indignant he becomes.

[ofmermaidstories]

suspicioussss.

[ofmermaidstories]

playing with some new brush sets.

[sweetnsour1]

1:19

Fluff, Bakugou x g/n reader

“The hell are you hiding for?”

Garbled grumbling escaped from the slivers of space between your folded arms. Strong fingers, that could’ve easily pried your face free, tugged at you gently. You raised one forearm up enough to peek out. He seemed to roll his eyebrows more than his eyes before returning to his usual glare.

“That’s still hiding, brat.”

“I should be hiding. It’s embarrassing.” The last word sluggishly crawled across your tongue before falling.

“What’s embarrassing?” A smile almost broke free at the sound of him mimicking you.

“Words…feelings…words about feelings…being bad at all of it…it’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Mmm.” The groan of agreement soothed you some. You released your arms, scooting back across the sofa, out of his reach. Not quite willing to find comfort in the gentle pity he seemed to be offering.

“Sorry.” The word was directed at the cushion that held the focus of your gaze.

“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” You scratched at the fabric in front of you, letting the textured stitching slide beneath your fingernails. “Things could’ve stayed the same if I hadn’t said anything.” The silence started to make the air thicker…heavier. It was draping across your shoulders, wrapping around your chest, making your lungs feel weak. When had the music stopped playing? Fuck, you’d give anything to lighten the weight in the room. You took a deep breath, trying to at least shake some of it from your lungs.

“Hey.”

You flinched as a hand slid across your knee.

“Fuck…” A sigh lacking the usual fire behind it punctuated the word, softening it into nearly nothing. “Will you just look at me?”

His eyes made you want to fall forward into his arms just as much as they created an unshakeable urge to lock yourself in another room. His hand ran through blonde hair before falling back to grab your wrist. You choked back a laugh at the subtle sign of how well he knew you. How well he understood you were about to run or hide again.

“Now say it again.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” You tensed in anger, scowling as soon as you saw the smirk resting on his stupidly handsome face.

“You’re really that scared?” You ripped your wrist free.

“I’m not scared. I’m embarrassed. It’s different.”

“Looks the same to me.”

“Ugh, you’re such an ass.” You folded your arms across your chest before spitting out the words that had left your lips so sweetly moments earlier. “I like you…happy?”

“Yea.” His laugh forced another glare from you.

“What?”

“Yea…I’m happy.” You tried to back up further into the corner of the sofa you were already trapped against as he moved toward you.

“Why?”

“Idiot…”

“Fuck o-“

“I like you too.”

Be gentle with me I’m rusty and dusty

Masterlist

[meyocoart]

sky umbrella

[saturnsorbits]

Limitless

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen, Warnings: Suggestive, Word Count: 1k.

Summary: All you want is for Gojo to turn limitless off, even if just for a moment.

A/N: This is my first time writing Gojo and it was kinda fun, I'm ngl.

'Turn it off!’ You whine, eyes wide, lips already pulling out of their forced frown. In your hand a paper ball is hidden, it's yellowed edges sticking out from between your fingers as you coil back your arm and prepare to throw.

You'd only come into the classroom to see if he had planned next semesters syllabus (he hasn't), but he has a way to bring out the inner child in everyone.

Reclining in his chair, Gojo lifts one of his ankles to sit atop his knee. His limbs are long, stretching out impossibly as he tips back and balances the chair on it's back legs. He folds his arms behind his head and grins. 'And why would I do that?'

You tilt your head and attempt to growl. 'Turn it off.'

'Nope.' He pops the 'P' in his mouth like a piece of bubblegum.

'Satoru.'

He licks his lips, bringing a fresh blush to the skin there. 'Mmhmm?

'Turn it off...' You pout, crushing the paper projectile in your hand. '… Please?'

Even underneath the blindfold you can tell he's rolling his eyes. His eyebrows shift, rising up on his forehead. 'You're just going to throw it at me.'

Letting your hand drop, you toss the paper ball in the air and catch it. 'But what if I don't, huh? What then?'

Another roll of his eyes.

'Oh, come on. I didn't take you for such a chicken.'

A devilish smirk takes your lip, one Gojo's not too sure he likes, but before he has time to bother to come up with some witty, off-the-cuff retort you're... Clucking, at him.

'Bawk... Bawk, bawk, bawk.'

He laughs. The noise bubbles up his throat and trickles over his lips, floating through the air like a ribbon of smoke that threatens to sink into your lungs with each inhale. Your silliness makes something twist in his stomach. It's something he hadn't thought could be elicited by someone else, not since he'd called one of those shabby old dorm rooms his own. 'Seriously -.'

'Bawk!'

Gojo rocks back on his chair. 'You know...' He hooks a thumb under his blindfold and lifts, exposing one frozen eye. 'I could just turn it back on as soon as you throw it.'

You shrug. 'So turn it back on when I throw it then.' Looking at him has always been hard. You'd compare it to looking up at a Greek statue, if you didn't know it would inflate his ego impossibly. Still, the metaphor fits. There's a beauty about him, that's hard to deny, but there's also an... Emptiness. A bone-deep chill of stone sadness, a prison – one you're not sure he's all too thrilled about being trapped in.

He tips forward, slamming the front legs of the chair on the floor. Throwing out his arms, he barks a laugh. 'Fuck it. Go on. Hit me...'

The silence that follows makes him nervous, despite the Six Eyes telling him you've yet to raise your hands to throw your projectile. He waits, something he's never been good at, with a breath locked in the back of his throat. He'll have time to thwart whatever you have planned. He's more than sure of that.

It takes a particularly skilled sorcerer to be able to gradually, undetectably, channel cursed energy into an inanimate object, but it's hardly difficult for you. The energy tickles as it leaves you, bringing goose-flesh to the surface of your arms.

Gojo knows what you're doing. He's not stupid. He could detect the slither of energy dripping down your arm if he were fifty more miles away.

But, you know that too: Don't you?

His brow creases, mind whirring as he tries to fathom what hair-brained scheme you were coming up with. Letting his head loll back on his shoulders, he snorts a laugh. God, he really did fucking love it when you were up to no good.

Readying your arm, you slip your left foot forward in what could be considered a throwing stance. You wind back, let your weight sit in your back foot and then, you toss the ball of paper.

Gojo bites the inside of his cheek. As soon as the paper leaves your hand, he's reaching to catch it. He keeps his posture deliberately relaxed, knees parted, legs spread, spine curved into the cushion of the chair. So what if he wants to look cool. There's no rule saying he can't want to impress one of his fellow teachers: he's checked. The paper hits his palm as planned, his hand closing around it like a claw. He's about to laugh, to toss his head back and deliver a witty retort about your throwing skills, but he's not given the chance.

'Turn it off, Satoru.'

You're so close he can feel the breath you use to say his name on the rim of his ear. There's a pressure on his shoulders, your hands curled around him as you settle more firmly in his lap.

Or you would, if he would just turn that damn...

Gojo turns off limitless.

He's bonier than you'd expected. His thin limbs covered with a healthy, but scant layer of muscle that twitches when it finally bares your weight. So, too are his shoulders. The bulk at his back provides a cushion, while you thumb brushes clean over the jut of his collarbone.

You press closer, rolling your hips up and into his pelvic bone. Already you can feel the soft swell of his cock as it twitches, roused by the heat of your cunt.

He drops the paper, choosing instead to take hold of your waist. His hands flatten, palms flat as they slide down, down, down and cup your ass. Kneading at the flesh, he takes hold of you like he owns you, delivering a healthy slap to your left cheek as a wide grin takes his lips.

'It's off.' He cocks an eyebrow, licking over powdered sugar lips. You raise your eyebrows and wriggle your hips to check, making sure to show him just how wet the few drags of your cunt across his rapidly hardening cock has made you.

The muscle in his jaw tenses. He can smell you from here – your desperation - as it drips from you and soaks your underwear. If he plays his cards right, which he always does, he'd bet he'll be able to get a taste of you in the next ten minutes.

He smirks 'So, what now?'

-> Masterlist

[ofmermaidstories]

og hér ert þú, glósóli

[whatsnewalycat]

[strafepanzer]

continuation of this. cw threesome & light rimming

bakugo is on top of you, fingers deep in your wet heat, exploring roughly as you buck and whine beneath him. fuck, you're beautiful all sweaty and flushed, ethereal naked and panting beneath him.

shouto disappeared not long after the foreplay started, muttering something about the bathroom and carrying on without him.

"c'mon, bakugo," you whine, grabbing at his shoulders, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him close. "i need you to put it in me," your glassy eyes stare up into his. "please,"

he groans when you beg, mind briefly drifting to the fact that shouto sees you like this all the time. he bites his lip, then kisses you like a man starved. he doesn't stop fingering you, continues until you're shaking and squirting beneath him.

it's when you're completely boneless that he rubs himself over your slippery heat, nudges and pushes slowly into you, holding his breath until he's fully inside you.

"fuck..." he breathes, watching how you react, how you slowly arch into him, how your eyes shimmer with the promise of more.

"oh my god," you groan, reaching for him again, clawing at his back until his weight is pressing against you, your mouth at his ear. "so... thick, fuck,"

bakugo is so lost in you that he doesn't even register the bed dipping behind him.

you hold him there, legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck, kissing skin, licking at his sweat.

then hands are at his waist, lips at his spine, tongue tracing his vertebrae.

he freezes. tenses up. is this--? does he want this?

"he's gentle, i promise," you rock up against him, nudge your forehead against his. "do you not want it?"

"d-" his voice cracks, his hands fisting the sheets by your head. "depends what it is."

shouto chuckles. "I'll only go as far as you let me," he soothes, those hands drifting slowly down katsuki's hips until they run over the globes of his ass.

"y-you gay or something?"

"he's not straight," you laugh. "but we both think you're really hot, and we' both like to enjoy you."

katsuki can't say he's completely straight either, but he is no way ready to be penetrated. "just..." he takes a deep breath, turns his head a little to meet shouto's eyes. "you can play with me, but don't go shoving your cock in. 'm not ready for that yet."

"i'll make you feel good, bakugo," shouto promises, leaning up and over bakugo, pressing a kiss to his hair; he then pushes bakugo against you with his body weight, meeting you over his shoulder in a slow, wet, clash of lips.

the wet sounds have bakugo twitching inside you, and you moan as he begins to give into the feeling, humping into you best he can while sandwiched between you and shouto.

shouto lifts up, giving bakugo room to pull out and push back in, and in moments, the hotel room is filled with moans. your heat pulls him in, and he feels like melting into you, enjoying how blissed out you look underneath him.

as he edges closer, he feels shouto's lips decend the length of his spine, kissing and sucking down his back until he reaches his ass.

"keep going," shouto urges, noticing how bakugo slows when shouto's hands spread him open.

"baby, he might not be ready," you interject, breathing evening out with bakugo's slowed movements.

"it's fine, i'm fine, you-- shouldn't be talking," he grits out, thrusting into you harshly, embarrassed that you came to his defence over half-and-half.

you grin, bottom lip sucking in between your teeth. "that all you got?"

moments later, bakugo's coming; his dick kissing your cervix, shouto's tongue in his ass.

[ofmermaidstories]

year of the dragon. 🐉

[kingkatsuki]

Thinking about Bakugou fucking you with one of those lovense vibes inside you and he can’t handle the vibrations and cums instantly😩

This has been in my drafts for so long I don’t even remember writing it.

Warnings: 18+, toys.

“Aww, you poor baby,” Bakugou practically sneers as his thumb glides against his phone screen, “Is it too much?”

Even without the intense vibrations humming inside you, the sight in front of you may have been enough to have you wondering whether you’d reached the pearly gates. His heavy cock hangs low, the tip tinted a violent crimson as it leaks glistening beads of pre. Sat back on his haunches between your thighs for the perfect view of the new tiny pink vibrator that sat nestled against your g-spot.

“Fuck,” Your voice echoes much like the vibrations that pulse inside you while Bakugou controls the power, a conniving grin spread across his cheeks as he presses a calloused thumb against your puffy clit. The sudden movement has you jolting as your thighs try to clamp shut, the hulking wall of muscle you call your boyfriend is enough to prevent it as he begins pressing taut circles against the sensitive bud, “Katsuki, I can’t.”

“That’s not what you were sayin’ earlier when you were begging me to try it,” He scoffs, ignoring your pleas as he drops the phone to focus on you, “Textin’ me at work about how desperate you were to be fucked— Please, Daddy I wanna cum.”

“I did not say that, don’t lie.” You flush at the pet name.

“Yeah, ya did,” Bakugou presses, “Thinkin’ about me bending you over while I’m out on patrol.”

The debauched rasp to his voice has your cunt clenching around the small bullet as your toes began to curl, the harsh vibrations paired with the constant attention against your clit has you woozy. It doesn’t help that he’s still got black charcoal around his eyes from where his hero mask once sat, the cloth now pushed up over his forehead to push the messy blond spikes away from his face. Barely enough time to change before you’d cornered him.

“You still with me, sweets?” Bakugou hums, squeezing the plush of your thigh with his palm.

But you can’t bring yourself to respond, the euphoria consumes you whole. Teary eyes rolling back into your skull as you succumb to the pleasure, hips bucking wildly as Bakugou’s hand follows your motions. The other moves to push against your hip to pin your body to the bed as he helps you through your climax.

“That’s it— fuck, baby. You look so hot like this.” He groans, the leaky tip of his cock streaking against your inner thigh as he hovers over you, “Didn’t even last five fuckin’ minutes.”

“Yes I did,” You huff, your palms reach down between your bodies to tug his wrist away from your cunt as the sensation becomes too overwhelming, too intense.

“Nah, you didn’t.” He scoffs, giving a playful swat to your messy folds as you mewl in response.

“You try it then, it’s a-ahh, it’s a lot.” You try to steady your breathing but it’s difficult with the consistent vibrations, enough to slur your words as Bakugou shakes his head.

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. You ain’t stickin’ that in my ass.” He circles his cock in a fist as he begins to jerk it languidly, his other hand stroking the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“I didn’t mean that,” You began, although the idea was now firmly planted in your head for later, “I meant fuck me—“

“What?” Bakugou’s cock twitched in his palm, “Of course I’m gonna fuck ya, baby.”

“No, I mean with the toy— inside.”

“You think I’ll fit.” He glowers, pressing the fat tip of his cock through your messy folds as he coats himself in your slick.

“It’s not that big,” You sigh, your walls pulsing around it, hungry for more, “If you think you can handle it.”

“Course I can fuckin’ handle it,” Bakugou snorts indignantly as he lines himself up with your fluttering hole, “I’ve fucked you with that wand pressed against your clit enough times—“

But you could tell from the deep, guttural whine that left his throat as his jaw went lax that this was certainly not the same. Bakugou hadn’t expected you to be so tight with a tiny bullet inside you, the vibrations strong and constant, pressing against the side of his cock. Sending a pleasurable pulse all the way down to his balls as he tries to steady himself, holding his breath which just seems to make everything worse. The sensation was intense, borderline numbing as he tried to focus on anything other than the rumble of the little pink toy against his cock.

You buck your hips, desperate for some kind of relief as you felt incredibly full, biting down on your bottom lip as you watched your boyfriend statuesque in front of you.

“Katsuki, move—” You whine, but it was too late.

“Fuckin’ shit,” The sound slips from between clenched teeth as he finally exhales, letting go of the breath he was holding as his entire body convulses. The pulsing enough to have his heavy balls emptying inside your tight cunt as he grunts in satisfaction. The lack of oxygen to his brain clouds his vision, making the orgasm even more intense as he gives a few sloppy thrusts into your tight heat as he coats your walls with his spunk. Pulling out to try and escape the powerful sensation as a few more globs of cum land on your cunt and pelvis, his messy cock still twitching from pleasure.

“I thought you said you could handle it?” You smile as you look up at the blissed out expression on Bakugou’s face, stunned that a toy had made him cum like a randy teenager, “What was that? Thirty seconds?”

Bakugou’s chest heaves as he glares down at you with furrowed brows, giving the side of your thigh a playful swat as he reaches for his cell phone. His thumb glides across the screen as he turns the vibrations to the max setting, “Let’s see how you like it huh, ya little brat.”

[3-aem]

its a very awkward time right now

[strafepanzer]

your bf shouto asking his closest colleague bakugo what to get you for valentines day.

"maybe get her railed by a real man" bakugo jokes. the joke, of course, goes over shoutos head.

valentines night, you go to the hotel room your bf texts you, only to find shouto in there arguing with his colleague.

"you said." shouto frowns.

"sarcasm! you really think im gonna fuck your missus?" bakugo glares

"no, we'd both do it." shouto insists, eager. bakugo flushes all the way down his neck.

"do i get a say?" you ask, dropping your overnight bag at your feet. the men look at each other. you start taking off your clothes.

[strafepanzer]

it throws bakugo for a loop when he sees shouto tug your hair roughly, his other hand travelling up the column of your neck to grip your jaw, turning it to the side. he comes over your shoulder and captures your mouth in a messy kiss, those mismatched eyes peering down at bakugo where he lies flat, you straddling him.

"it's okay, she likes it," shouto breathes, and suddenly bakugo feels out of his depth. "don't you?"

"yeah," you fall onto your hands, hovering above him. "you don't need to be gentle."

"i was under the impression that you wanted to take charge," shouto's hands run up bakugo's legs, and he shivers.

it's not like he's some blushing virgin, but bakugo has never seen this side of shouto; never really thought the two of you were capable of sharing each other with someone else so easily.

"you're having second thoughts?" you lower yourself against him-- soft, so soft-- and breathe your words into his ear. "we don't have to do this-"

"no, i--" he clears his throat, large hands nervously finding your hips. "not... no second thoughts."

shouto places his hands over bakugo's. "lead on, real man."

[a11eya]

TITLE: unfiltered

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Bakugou's hot, smart, a literal hero, and best of all, he's the best roommate you've ever had. Sure he's grumpy a lot of the time and he's a terror if you're too loud after he's gone to bed, but he cooks! He cleans!! Who can blame you for developing a little crush on him?

You've managed to keep it under wraps for the better part of a year. It's just your luck that the day you're hit by a quirk that removes your brain to mouth filter is the day Bakugou breaks routine. He comes home a little too early from the gym in a tight black compression shirt that's made its way into several of your fantasies, and instead of saying hello, you blurt out—

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

TAGS: roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, reader with afab body parts, reader referred to as “girl,” pet name “baby,” mutual pining

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a drabble-turned-oneshot based on an ask I received while playing the fanfic trope mashup ask game! ✨ If you read what I wrote in reply to that ask, you'll recognize the first section of this, but don't worry—there's like 2.3K of new content (mostly smut...) after it. Hugs and kisses to everyone who sent me asks for the mashup game! Without you guys, I wouldn't have written this. 💖

“You home, dumbass?” Bakugou’s voice drifts into the kitchen from the entryway, followed by the sound of his keys jingling as he hangs them up on the hook in the hallway.

You freeze, cup of water half-raised to your mouth.

He’s not supposed to be home this early. When he goes to the gym, he stays for at least an hour.

“Yeah,” you croak out, gripping the counter with your other hand. You set the glass down. 

Maybe he’ll head straight to his room. Maybe he won’t come in here. It’d look even more suspicious if you tried to make a break for it. Shit, you should’ve gone to your room while you had the chance.

Bakugou strides into the kitchen, setting his water bottle near the sink. You can only stand there, like a deer in headlights. 

He’s in shorts and a tight, black compression shirt, the material hugging his skin. His biceps look amazing, and your eyes snag on his pecs. He has that annoying hero dorito build, broad shoulders tapering into a tiny waist.

Bakugou raises an eyebrow at you before turning to open the fridge. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you say. Your eyes widen and your hands come up, belatedly, to slap over your mouth.

He stops mid-motion, and you stare in horror as he turns to look at you, those crimson eyes wide in a rare expression of surprise. 

“Fuck,” you say again. Before he can say anything, you sprint to your room.

Just as you close the door and lock it, you hear Bakugou’s footsteps come to a stop outside it. 

There’s a simmering moment of silence before he says, “What the hell was that?”

You groan and make painful noises into your hands.

“I’m sorry! I was hit by a quirk today!”

“What the fuck? Go to the hospital!” he snarls.

“I did,” you say through the door. “They told me to go home, that it’d wear off in a day or two.”

“…What’s the quirk?” Bakugou growls.

You bite your lip.

“Not telling,” you say.

“Open the door,” Bakugou growls, and you shiver. It’s not in fear, or out of intimidation.

“No,” you say. 

“Open the damn door or I’ll break it,” Bakugou says, voice even. It alarms you more than his yelling does. You know when he gets like this he’s dead serious. 

“You wouldn’t do that,” you say a little unsteadily. “We’d lose our deposit and then some!” 

“Fuck the deposit.”

“Bakugou—”

“Last chance.”

You swallow. You unlock the door and open it slightly, just enough to create a gap to poke your head through. 

“What do you want?” you say warily. 

Bakugou’s eyes lock on your face. He steps forward.

He pushes the door open with one hand, crossing the threshold into your room. Despite yourself, you find yourself moving backwards as he presses into your space, inch by inch.

You bump up against your dresser, back to it, before he stops, crowds you. He puts his arms on the dresser on either side of you. The flash you get of his biceps and the stretch of his shirt across his chest as he leans in overwhelms you before his gaze compels you to meet his. 

“What’s the quirk?” Bakugou says, voice low, impatient. 

“A verbal inhibition one.”

His eyes narrow. “What’re the full effects? Gimme the complete file rundown. Be thorough.”

Oh. You relax a little. Bakugou’s just worried about you in his own, aggressive way. You were worried he was mad about your comment from earlier, but it looks like you’re getting a pass. 

Still. This is the literal worst. 

“Quirk: Mindstream. It’s administered through touch, and it causes the affected person to…” You hesitate, furrowing your brows, trying to remember what the doctor had told you. “To have complete verbal transparency without inhibition. No other overlapping effects such as susceptibility to verbal compulsion or physical manipulation. It really isn’t that serious, Bakugou.” 

He studies you for a long moment. You swallow, feeling self-conscious. You can’t maintain eye contact, so your eyes drop down, to his chest, which is a big fucking mistake. It should be illegal for him to wear goddamn compression shirts.

“So it took a quirk to finally make you honest,” Bakugou says, a satisfied, smug note in his voice. Your head jerks up. 

“Ugh, shut up.” You scowl, hoping your face doesn’t betray your embarrassment. “You know you’re conventionally attractive. Leave me alone.”

He barks out a laugh, and you smack at him, annoyed. He grabs your hand with his. He puts it on his chest, right over his heart, and your breath catches. 

“You think I don’t notice you looking at me when I wear this shit?” Bakugou says.

You feel your ears burn. Fuck, you’d been caught. 

You stare at your hand on his chest, refusing to meet his gaze. You become conscious of the thump thump of his heart, beating so fast beneath your fingertips. Wait. Is he…?

You lift your head to glance at his expression, and his eyes are intense, smoldering. 

While maintaining eye contact, your hand slips down, to his abs, your nails scraping against the material of his compression shirt. You stop right at the waistband of his shorts. 

Bakugou shivers. Before you can even register his movements, he lifts you by the waist, effortlessly. He sets you on the dresser and bullies his way between your legs, putting his hands on your thighs. They’re searingly warm against your skin. 

You must’ve passed out or something because no way is this actually fucking happening. This must be one of your daydreams or something. After nearly a year of living with Bakugou as a roommate, you’re ashamed to say he’s been the star of nearly all of them. 

“I—”

Bakugou leans forward and presses his lips to the jumping pulse at your neck. You let out a shuddery breath, hands coming up to grip his biceps. Nope, this is real. 

“So you think I’m hot?” he says against your skin. Every brush of his lips has your heart pounding. 

“Yes, fuck,” you gasp out. 

You feel his lips curve into a mean little grin. You don’t even need to see his face to know it’s mean. Just his voice is enough. 

“What else you got going on in that little head of yours?” he asks. 

Bakugou’s hands move upward, his thumbs tracing your inner thighs, getting dangerously close to the apex of your legs. 

Your core pulses, clenches around nothing, painfully empty. You shift, trying to press yourself closer to him, to get some friction. He holds you still, cruel. 

You ache. Fuck, you don’t care anymore. You want him to know, even. The words come spilling out, a fount unrestrained. 

“I want you so bad,” you say. “I’ve wanted you since that dumb gala you made me go to with you. I thought getting to know you and dealing with your crappy personality would help me get over you, but I just like you more. Shit.”

Bakugou’s eyes burn. The crimson is swallowed up by the dark of his pupil, and because you’re right up against him, you feel his breath pick up. 

His hand comes up to cup the line of your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip. 

“Tell me to fuck off,” Bakugou rasps, and you squirm against him. “Tell me to go and I’ll go.”

“No,” you whisper, and then he’s kissing you, hungry, filthy, mouth open. 

You surge into him, voracious. 

“Please,” you say. He groans into you, the sound setting you on fire.

You slip your hands underneath the hem of his shirt, sliding them along his abdomen, up his chest as you push the tight black fabric up. 

Impatient, he leans back so he can pull it up over his head and throws it across the room. You’re pulling your own shirt off, impatient, and he comes back to you like a magnet, inevitable attraction. 

His big hands ghost over your newly revealed skin, your taut nipples, and you arch into his touch. He’s gentler than you thought he’d be.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this since you moved in,” Bakugou says, and you don’t even get a chance to voice your shock because he’s kissing you again. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, shivering as his tongue flicks into your mouth and his hands leave a burning trail down your sides, clever hands slipping your shorts and underwear off in an easy motion. 

The texture of his shorts against your bare sex has you making a rough sound against his mouth, and he parts from you to look into your eyes. He’s a little flushed, clearly affected, and fondness floods you. You kiss his cheek. He snorts a little, squeezes you to him.

“Bed?” he asks, and you nod. 

Bakugou lifts you into his arms again and carries you over to your bed, setting you down gently. He takes a second to pull off his own shorts and underwear, and seeing his cock, heavy, the tip wet with precum, nearly makes you groan. You want him so much. 

“Bedside table,” you say with what little clarity you still have. He separates from you, and the absence of his body after being pressed skin to skin for so long makes the air feel cold, raising goosebumps. A little whine escapes you. 

“Fuck, you’re needy,” Bakugou says, returning with a condom.

“Who’s this shit for, huh?” he asks, climbing on top of you once he’s ripped the condom open and pulled it on. 

He positions himself so his cock is right against your pussy, sliding against the wetness that’s collected there. You wrap your legs around him, trying to pull him closer, pull him inside, but he refuses. 

“Y’gonna answer me or what?” Bakugou asks, cupping your jaw with his hand and making you look him in the eye. You make a face at him, and he leans in to nip your bottom lip in punishment.  

You melt a little, relent. “From that guy I met ages ago—at Mina’s birthday party.” 

He’d been cute, nice. It was casual. But after hooking up just two or three times, he’d ghosted you. You never found out why, but it hadn’t bothered you. You’d honestly not thought of him for months until now. 

Bakugou scowls. “That loser. I’m going to make you forget he even exists.”

He starts to move down your body, lips pressing kisses to your skin as he goes, and you grab at his shoulders. 

“Wait, what’re you doing?” you ask, and he pauses, mouths at the skin of your lower belly. Your stomach clenches, and you grip the sheets underneath you. His face, so close to where you’re throbbing, has you breathless. 

“Wanna eat you out,” Bakugou says. 

Fuck. 

“Next time,” you say beseechingly. “Please, I want you inside. Fuck, please. I can’t wait.” 

Bakugou crawls back up and kisses you hard. His hand slips between you and cups your sex, feeling how wet you are. He slips a finger inside, and this time, you can’t contain the moan. His thumb slides over your clit. You arch into his touch. 

“So impatient,” he says, voice rough, raspy. He’s looking at you like there’s nothing but you, in the here and now. His focus is dizzying. “You think you can take me, just like that?”

He adds another finger. The sound of him as he plays with you is wet, thick. His fingers feel so big inside you, and it’s a nice stretch. But it’s not enough. 

You bury your face in his neck. 

“Bakugou, please.”

“Katsuki,” he tells you, and you shiver. 

“Katsuki,” you say softly, and press your lips to the space where his neck meets his shoulder. 

He swears and shifts, positioning his cock at your entrance. He teases your clit with the tip and you use a little teeth to nip his neck. He snickers quietly and kisses your temple. 

“You tell me if it hurts,” Bakugou says.

“It won’t,” you say. “I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Bakugou groans, and then he’s inside of you, a slow slide, so deep it feels like he’s in your stomach, in your throat. His body is so warm on top of you, a delicious weight. You clench around him. 

He squeezes your hips, a warning, and says, voice strained, “Hold still, shit.”

It feels so good, but fuck— “Mm, Katsuki, please move.”

He pulls out slowly, the wet sound of his dick sliding out of your pussy making you burn up. He thrusts back in, grinds. 

The weight of Bakugou’s body on top of you grounds you as he ruts against you, cock plunging in and out, a delicious ebb and flow. You’re lost in him, thoughts scrambled. You moan his name and he kisses you, swallowing your pleasure. 

You’re so sensitive. Everywhere your bodies are touching feels so good. The contrast of his hard chest and stomach against your softness, his calloused fingertips against your smooth skin. 

You make a helpless sound as he sucks a bruise into your neck. 

His hands are wicked. They roam your body, petting your tits, tweaking your nipples, gripping your waist as his thrusts rock you. One hand snakes its way between you and massages your clit, pushing you to the edge.  

“Katsuki,” you say, breathless, clutching at his back. “I’m not gonna last.”

“S’okay,” he mutters against your skin. “Come for me, baby.”

And you do, like obedience is the only option, arching, shuddering. He holds you close, kissing your cheek, the tip of your nose, your mouth. 

You come down, feeling languid and satiated. The heat in you settles down into embers, glowing. But Bakugou’s still hard inside of you, filling you up. 

You shift, bucking your hips up, and he growls. 

“C’mon, baby. Your turn,” you say. You pat his cheek, and he bites softly at your fingers. 

He turns you so that you’re on your stomach, and you’re pliant. You arch your back, pillowing your face in your arms. 

Bakugou taps his cock against your ass, slides it up and down your slit. The friction of it against your clit sends a faint throb of arousal through you. He leans forward to kiss the nape of your neck. 

“Katsuki—” you start, just as he slips inside you once more. You press your face into the pillows, muffling a moan. 

He sets a punishing pace, a contrast to the earlier slow burn that was all about your pleasure, moments before. Despite this, the fire in you begins to build again, the knowledge that you’re making Bakugou feel good so arousing. His rough groans, the sloppy sound of his cock in your pussy—you love it all. 

He’s chasing his release, hands sliding down your back, to your waist, to your ass. His hands squeeze the flesh there, spreading you open so he can watch his cock disappear into your sex. 

You’re so sensitive that when he reaches around to fondle your clit, tears spring to your eyes and you gasp. 

“Gimme one more,” Bakugou says in your ear, his body curved over yours. “Just one more, that’s a good girl.”

With a groan, you spill over, your orgasm sending shocks through your body. You melt, boneless, as Bakugou thrusts one, two more times, then shudders as he jerks inside of you. 

When he slips out of your sex, there’s an abrupt emptiness that has you pressing your legs together to quell the feeling. You feel his weight lift from the bed, presumably to take care of the condom, but you lose a little time after that, dozing off. 

You stir when a warm, slightly damp washcloth wipes gently between your legs, and then Bakugou slips behind you, throwing an arm around your waist.  

“Didn’t think you’d be a cuddler,” you say sleepily. 

He bites your shoulder gently. “Shut up.”

You press back against his warmth, smiling when his hand finds yours, interlacing your fingers.

[twoloveswords]

bakugou x reader; cw: smut, penetration, gagging

You absent-mindedly chew on the end of your pen. "Why are they so big?"

Everyone shifts uncomfortably in their seats. This is not how a costume design meeting with Dynamight typically goes.

You cut your eyes from the schematics displayed on the large screen at the end of the room over to the Pro-Hero.

There's an agonizing five full seconds of silence. Well, agonizing to the other people in the room, at least.

"Aerodynam-"

"You're not a car, you don't need spoilers growing out of the side of your head."

Dynamight runs his tongue over his teeth. He stands up to his full height from his seat next to you. "Everybody else, out."

The other attendees are quick to vacate the premises.

"Anything else you wanna add?" he asks, pressing his hands on the large oak table and leaning down to get in your face.

"Yeah, they mess up your hair." You reach up and run your fingers along the band of his mask, fixing stray locks that are curled under it or pressed flat against his scalp.

His expression softens. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?"

"Yeah?" you smirk, resting your chin on your hand, a devilish sparkle passing through your eyes.

"Underminin' me and then touchin' me like that, all soft. It's fuckin' annoying."

You laugh. "I'm sorry, Katsuki." It earns you an eye-roll, but you lay your hand on his and pull his attention back to you. "I mean it. I shouldn't have been so familiar with you." You lower your voice to a whisper. "I'll blow my cover."

Katsuki looks down at your hand on his, then brings your fingers to his lips, giving them soft kisses. "'S alright," he mumbles, "sometimes I want people to know." He releases your hand and lifts your chin with his finger so he can kiss you. It's a deep kiss, the pressure of his lips on yours firm and constant. "They say it's for your safety - like I can't fuckin' protect you," he adds when he breaks away from you, whispering the words into your open mouth.

"I know you can protect me, baby," you coo, and he kisses you again, this time encouraging your lips to part so he can swipe tongue along yours.

"Nothing's ever gonna happen to you on my watch," he growls between kisses that are now roaming down your neck. His voice is deep and protective, but his eyes are possessive as they rake over your body.

The heat in your blood is rising and your mind begins to fog. "Katsuki..." you breath out weakly.

He pushes your rolling chair out from under the meeting table and lifts you out of it by your thighs, placing you roughly on the edge of the table, legs spread wide so he can slot himself between them.

"You'd like it too, wouldn't cha? If everyone knew?"

You bite your lip, nod meekly.

"Where's that big attitude now?" he smirks.

You take a breath, finding yourself again through the lustful haze. "Why don't you come find out?"

He pulls you towards him by your thighs until your core brushes up against his clothed dick and you moan.

"You gonna let me fuck you right here on this table?" he asks, cupping your face.

"Take that stupid mask off first," you bite back.

He sets his jaw in annoyance but obliges, sliding the fabric off of his head. Now all that's left is the messy eyeblack streaked across his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

"Fuck," you whimper, making a show of lying flat on your back on the table. "You look so hot like that."

Katsuki takes the opportunity to hike your dress all the way up to your waist so he can pull down your tights and panties, which he manages to rip in the process.

There's no time for any other foreplay - the time you've been alone in this windowless room together is already suspicious enough - so he doesn't waste any time in pulling down his pants just enough to free his aching cock.

He slides into you all at once and a loud moan rips from your throat.

Katsuki stills inside you. "You gotta be quiet for me, yeah?"

"I don't know if I can," you sigh, and it's not a tease or a joke. You really don't know if you can keep your voice down when he's fucking you.

"Open up, then," he says, and tentatively open your mouth.

He inserts his balled-up hero mask into your mouth to muffle the sounds of your debauchery. You bite down on it, and it tastes like sweat and musk, and everything about the situation you're in is making your pussy pulse around his cock, still buried inside you.

"You can breathe?" he asks, and you nod. "Good," he growls, and then he's pistoning himself in and out of you and your hands scramble for purchase, eventually finding the edge of the table to hold on to. Katsuki never gets tired of seeing you like this underneath him, brows furrowed and eyes glassy, pleasure shooting through all of your nerves, entire body bouncing with the force of his thrusts.

His thumb finds your clit and your eyes roll back.

"'M gonna have to make this short baby, I'm sorry," he says as he continues working your puffy clit towards an orgasm, "but I'm gonna take care of you at home tonight, okay?"

You nod, deliriously close to the edge.

"Gonna fuck you stupid tonight, my smart girl, gonna fuck the brains right outta you," His movements get quicker, his hips slapping roughly against your thighs. "Just gonna hafta be a quickie for now - fucking christ - so we can keep our secret, right?"

You try to moan his name but the sounds are lost to the fabric gag in your mouth, and then you whine and your back arches off the table and Katsuki knows you're about to cum so he quickens the pace on your clit to send you spiraling into your orgasm. Your legs shake and he plants a hand on each of your thighs, whispering s'okay baby, I've got you while he chases his own release, eventually spilling himself inside you.

"Knew I'd make you eat your words," he chuckles as he gently pulls the mask free from your mouth.

"You treat all your employees like this?" you joke.

"Only the secret girlfriend ones," he quips as he helps you slide back into your tights and smooths out your dress.

You both take a few moments to compose yourselves.

"You ready?" Katsuki asks, his hand on the door handle.

"Yep!"

He turns the handle and steps into the hallways. "I'm glad we could come to an agreement on the mask designs," he says, a little loudly and awkwardly.

He's never been a good liar.

"Actually," you start, and Katsuki throws you a glare and subtly shakes his head no.

But you have other plans.

"I have some notes on your neck brace, too."

[andypantsx3]

idk when i will write this (i'm calling dibs on this set up btw) but i have a "there is only one bed" scene living in my head rn, where like shouto & bakugou are on a joint secret mission and somehow you fall into it, some random civilian they've picked up along the way and are forced to drag along for your own safety.

night falls and bakugou's gotten you the last room at some seedy motel that lets you pay all cash, and no one is pleased when the room is dingy and so small that it's taken up entirely by the bed. the one singular bed, that is.

"the brat sleeps in the middle, i'm not cuddling up to your candy cane ass," bakugou tells shouto gruffly.

shouto ignores him, watching you closely instead.

"i will take the floor if it makes you uncomfortable," he offers, the consummate gentleman. he's been the kindest of the two of them, throughout this whole ordeal, the one who'd pulled you out of the way just as you were about to be cremated. something in your heart clenches at the thought of him cold and alone on the dirty carpet.

"it's fine," you tell him, heart in your throat.

a tiny smile quirks his mouth, and bakugou scoffs behind you. you haven't known bakugou long, but you know enough to guess he's rolling his eyes.

it's quiet as everyone readies for bed, bakugou claiming the first shower. shouto takes the time to reorganize his pack and you help him divide up everything in the minibar between the three of you, everyone ravenous after the events of the day.

it's a relief to wash the grime off of you too, finally clean again after days. you're loath to redress in your same filthy clothes, but you have nothing else. you scrub the worst patches of grime off in the sink, resigned to a couple damp spots, before nervously making your way back into the bedroom.

you can smell the cheap hotel shampoo in bakugou's hair as you settle down between the two men, feel the heat of shouto's body next to you, still damp from his shower. there's barely two inches of space between you and either of them, the bed meant for two, not three.

"you better not fuckin' kick in your sleep," bakugou tells you, his voice a low rasp in your ear. you suppress a shiver at how close he is, but even that can't stop the way you roll your eyes in the dark.

"i'll aim towards you," you say, unable to help yourself. you can feel the exhale of his snort on the back of your neck, and you can't quite tell if it's amused or displeased.

shouto is the first to drift off, his quiet breaths growing even and deep and steady. you can just see the faint smudge of his long lashes fanning over his cheeks in the dim. he looks just as beautiful asleep as he does when he's awake, and your own cheeks warm at the idea of sharing a bed with this man. both of these men. bakugou is beautiful too, even if he's obnoxious.

you think bakugou is still awake when you finally manage to drift off too, but you're the first to awaken, the silver-grey fingers of early morning light barely sneaking beneath the drawn curtains.

in the night all three of you have drifted closer—much closer than is proper. you're wedged securely between them both, shouto a long, hot line against your back, bakugou's chest firm against yours. you're so close that you can feel both of their chests rise and fall as they breathe, feel the tickle of shouto's breath against your neck, bakugou's against your temple.

one of shouto's hands is fitted to your hip. you can feel the impression of every single one of those long, elegant fingers warm against your skin. one of bakugou's muscular thighs is wedged between yours, too, your legs tangled. it's hot between the two men—you can feel your skin dampening with the heat of their bodies.

you don't dare move, nerves—and something horrifyingly more pleasant—pooling in your gut. you lay like that for a long time, eyes closed, heart pounding, until bakugou shifts, rolling over and awakening with a groan. once he's reoriented himself, you feel him shove shouto off of you, too, cussing him out in a low, raspy tone, rough from sleep.

the cold where their warm bodies once pressed against you is a physical impression of the absence—and you think you feel the loss of their proximity far more keenly than you should.

[nikoruart]

vampire kat 🩸