Not To Brag But I Write My Best On Ovulation Or At Night Listening To Music (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

You’d think as a writer I’d be good at spelling. You’d think.

Things Bakugou Does While Fucking You

Warnings: smut obviously, teasing, pet names, cursing, and kinks.

One thing about Bakugou Katsuki is that he shows no mercy not even to his own lover. When he tells you to get ready you better brace yourself he likes to rough at the start mainly because of your reactions. He likes the sound that’s comes out of you it was a mix between a moan and a grunt and then that face you made fucking perfect.

If he saw you struggling and if he’s feeling nice-ish he’ll let you use his shoulder and neck as support. Although he likes it especially when you wrap your arms around his neck he can feel every moment in your body, from your slight panted breathing to the little noises when he hits your G-Spot it just turns him on even more. Plus it brings you to even closer and for a moment he feels at ease before he continues to fuck the ever living out of you.

Don’t think your safe you always have to be alert around this man especially when you where distracted and it seems he thought this was the perfect time to strike because why’d he have to such a good kisser you thought, because Bakugou was kissing on your neck, chest, shoulders even leaving little marks behind. He was looking at you hungrily, hungry for you.

“Such a good girl for me hm?” He said so satisfied with the way you where trying to keep up, taking his with request and being such a good little whore for him. “Be a good bitch for me yeah?” He whispered into your ear. Bitch and whore where probably his two favorite words to call you it was like he was praising and insulting you at the same time and strangely you liked it.

Don’t even get me started with the way he knows your body. His quirk comes in handy with this with your permission of course. He’d use his quirk to warm his hands up which takes a bit of control from him but he’s gonna be the future number one so this is nothing. He knows you liked being choked not to hard though he didn’t want you dying on him. But you guys had practiced this mainly cause Bakugou insisted on it, it’s best he got it down now before something bad happens.

Bakugou’s a hella tease he won’t cum until the last moment where you think your finally out of his clutches he releases it like a mini bomb full of pleasure. He knows your pleased cause you give out all tired and sore. You won’t be walking anytime soon so he cleans you up and himself before wrapping his arms around your waist and cuddling with you.

Authors Note: Since y’all liked the last Bakugou post I thought might as well give you guys another one. Also yes Bakugou did aftercare cause I feel like he wouldn’t want the mess to stain and get sticky also cause he loves you <3. Sorry if this was short I tried my best to make them long but there might be a part two if I feel like it.

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reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead

yes, there are more than enough barbarian!bakugou drabbles on this website. no, i do not care !! have another!!!

your father already has his heir and a spare, and therefore, has no real use for you. at least, until an advisor reminded him of the mournful tunes the bards have been singing since you came of age — a tragic face, they claimed. men have waged wars for less sweet a temptation.

soon after the announcement of your eligibility is made, the dining hall bloats with suitors and their emissaries, boasting and bargaining over their chances with wine-sour breath night after night, waiting for your father to make his decision. 

behind closed doors, members of his cabinet pitch the merits of this prince or that noble scion. there is talk of naval dominance and deep treasuries. but from where you listen — with your ear pressed to the door of a forgotten servant’s corridor at the back of the council chamber — nobody mentions that one of them is old enough to be your grandfather, or that one young king has already been widowed twice, under suspicious circumstances.

the contest was your idea, presented during a quiet meal with your father, in such a manner that made him believe it was his plan all along. of course these men should prove themselves. how else can he know which kingdom reared the strongest warrior? which ally would prove the wisest or most cunning? 

as your father expected, there are many challengers. and as time goes on, it becomes less about the honor of your hand than the glory of victory. consequently, the tasks become more and more improbable: piercing steel armor with delicate arrows made of blown glass, navigating rapids with neither sails nor oars, hunting down the fabled great horned beast of the northern mountains. 

as you hoped, months pass without a champion.

but the men chasing honor and acclaim bring riches and secrets, feeding your father’s treasury and arming his spies. you can almost taste the freedom of again being unuseful to him, sweet as the honeyed pear speared on your fork.

the fork falls from your hand when the massive doors to the great hall swing open and an imposing shadow comes into view. backlit by the setting sun, it is impossible to discern its features — beyond its size and the massive horns, curved and sharp as twin sickles. 

the stranger’s approach is slow and measured, and as he gets closer, the shadow becomes more corporeal. turns into a man. although, the ochre glow behind him makes him appear almost as a god. nobody in the hall dares to breathe.

only when he stops at the dias can you make out garnet eyes of a barbarian, peering at you through holes gouged in the pelt cloaking his entire form. he’s wearing the face of a beast you had never truly believed existed like a hood.

wordlessly, he closes a fist around the skin draped over his shoulder, whisking it off and tossing it unceremoniously at your feet. the horns hitting the stone floors crack like thunder, echoing off the cavernous ceiling.

he wears necklaces strung with teeth, but no armor. his bare chest should make him seem vulnerable. instead, it puts every scar and whirl of ink denoting his battlefield victories and royal blood on display.

you have no idea how word of the contests made it all the way into the formidable northern mountains, or why it would entice a chieftain’s son to try at winning your hand.

all you know is that he just did.

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