Bully Katsuki - Blog Posts

Reaaaally feeling the bully!Bakugou being sweet and redeeming himself to victim!darling!!! But could you make one where darling doesn’t accept him after all 😈 😈 😈 and he’s suddenly not so inclined to be sweet anymore???

Changed it up a bit from the last one cuz i didn’t wanna write the same-ish thing, but anyway check that one out too here

BNHA ! FIC

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon, mentions of minors/teens having sex (but no actual depictions of it), toxic relationship, possessiveness, angst WC: 3.5k

No One Else

She’s not sure why she'd ever let it drag out for so long. 

In the beginning, it could be blamed on things outside their control. Where, between the tension that had always simmered within their strained dynamic as pretty girl and vile boy -plus the oncoming of puberty and its whirl of hormones- they were both left in a turmoil of strange pheromones making them panicked, embarrassed, confused, and most of all in dire need of an outlet for it all.

One of which they surprisingly found in each other.

They’d been but foolish teenagers at a silly house party at the time, their first-ever shots of alcohol buzzing through their system as they shared a kiss like none other. 

They’d stumbled up the stairs and gotten frisky in the bedroom while family pictures of their shared friend and his family witnessed them tearing at each other until the skin of childhood had shed and left them both as grown-ups. 

Waking up with a new special understanding of themselves and each other, one with a strange respect and newfound curiosity for the other’s body.

But why he hadn't grown bored of it since and why she'd never put her foot down and ended things was beyond her.

Katsuki had explained it once, one of those times he'd come stumbling into her apartment, drunk and in the midst of buckling up his pants while pawing at her. Kissing her sloppy, he’d mumbled out something along the lines of how no one else knows him like she does. 

And she supposed that had mainly been the reason; that they just knew each other too well and had known each other too long, to which point everyone else just seemed alien; that there was a sort of comfort -if one could call it that- in the familiarity of each other that just couldn't be replicated or replaced by anyone else. 

She’d been raised and groomed to sustain Katsuki and all his ugly tempers all her life. And -blinded by a sense of distorted credit she used to don herself- she couldn't quite imagine anyone being able to handle him but her. And -though she still can’t really put her finger on why- the thought had used to make her proud.

It had made her feel somewhat special...

And needed.

She thought it would go on forever then…

Not that she’d ever bothered to give it much thought. 

That is… until she had that very flirty encounter at the café where she worked. Where, in between being sweet-talked into a stuttering blushed mess and being asked out for coffee someplace where she wouldn't have to serve it herself, she’d come to question her current relationship and started doubting her true obligations toward Katsuki as a partner.

They didn’t go on dates. They didn’t live together. They didn’t text or call one another. They didn’t eat dinner or plan things or visit each other’s parents. 

She didn’t have anything in his apartment, nor him in hers. She’d never washed any of his clothes. She’d never worn any of his clothes. She’d never even driven his car. 

They’d never given each other presents. They didn’t tell people about their relationship. They didn’t talk about work, their day, or their feelings. Actually -having given it a long thought- they didn’t really talk at all. 

In fact, when it came down to it, the only thing she'd been able to think of that they'd ever done together… was sex.

Sex and nothing more…

She doesn’t know if things would have ever changed if he hadn’t asked her what the number scrawled in blue pen on her arm was...

But nevertheless, that’s when Katsuki started acting strange.

She'd never expected he’d get so upset by it, but she ended up apologizing that night while promising him that next time she wouldn’t be so silly, that next time she’d make it clear she already had a boyfriend.

She remembers thinking how the way he fucked her that night had been nothing short of desperate. Having given her nearly no room to breathe with how tightly he’d held her, his face nuzzling into her neck with lovebites, thrusting into her in such a way he was barely even pulling out, pounding her cervix more than her cunt to the point she’d feared it bruised, having had to pat his shoulder to tell him to calm down. 

He’d held her face then, and she’d realized that they hadn’t really had too much eye contact before. She remembers that even then, she couldn’t really decide if she liked it or not. Or rather... she’s sure she’d found it unpleasant, though just hadn’t had the guts to give the feeling any influence. 

She regrets it now that it’s too late. Maybe if she’d done or said something back then, she wouldn’t be in the situation she was trapped in now.

For lack of a better -more suitable- word, she’d have to say he’d become clingy if only it didn’t sound too sweet and childish for someone so much larger than her. But maybe she’d just feared calling it what it had been.

And what it had really been…

Was threatening.

Overbearing and possessive, and needlessly protective. He’d quickly become paranoid with jealousy. Portraying strange obsessive emotions she hadn't known he harbored for her at all until then.

She hadn’t really been able to put her finger on it at the time.

It started out small. Or, small in comparison to now. Small pleasantries he’d never bothered with before. Small niceties she’d never imagined the two of them would do together. 

Thinking back, the first deviation -aside from the triggering night he’d initially seen the phone number and felt the threat of her slipping from his grasp- was the time he’d come and visited her at work when out on patrol. And though he hadn’t really asked, she’d come to realize -rather hesitantly- that he’d come there to eat lunch together with her.

Maybe she’d been too swept up in the embarrassing buzz to notice, caught in the paparazzi of hushed whispers and judgy stares -all of them asking whom the Plain Jane thought she was, eating lunch with the up-and-coming pro-hero Dynamight- she hadn’t really the time nor mind to pay attention to him and all his newly awoken instincts regarding her.

It seemed fucking silly now… How she’d foolishly thought the bizarre lunch was an isolated incident of which wouldn’t ever happen again, only to find herself quickly schooled the next day and the day after that, coming to understand she was to expect it as a regular thing. And soon, it wasn’t even the strangest thing anymore.

Soon he was driving her home every day, coming inside, eating dinner, watching the news until late, and staying the night. Soon she found herself waking up in his apartment alone, coming downstairs to find he’d made her breakfast before leaving, combined with a little note telling her when he’d be back. Soon she wasn’t spending a single week or weekend without him. Soon she couldn’t find anything to wear that didn’t either remind her of him or smell like him or that downright didn’t belong to him completely.

And he’d started taking her places too -on dates- broadcasting their relationship to anyone with a cameraphone who could snap a picture and send it to every gossip magazine in Japan. He’d introduced her to his colleagues -whom she knew to be “friends” from some rather upsetting stories he’d told her when he was in a less and less rare mood for talking- and they’d seemed to know whom she was just as intimately, giving her the sneaking suspicion that Katsuki’d been running his mouth and saying private things he ought not to.

But that had all been child’s play.

It got out of control when he’d ordered a delivery truck to pack down all her things and move them all to his apartment before she got home from work. Sure, he’d introduced the idea of living together in passing, but she couldn’t remember ever committing to it or being at all close to an understanding of where and when.

Thinking about it now, that was probably her last chance of escaping before things got ugly.

But then, it was already too late. She was living with him suddenly. Sharing all his space while unable to shake that awfully crippling feeling of just being another medal or trophy up on the mantle. Just a decorative doll he’d locked behind glass.

She’d felt as though her head was in a cloud. And not in a nice way, but in the utmost hollow way. As though she’d put herself on auto-pilot and just gone with the stream like jellyfish.

And now…

Now he was down on one knee.

Asking -no demanding- that she give him everything. 

For life until due death.

Just the two of them. 

Together.

Forever.

She swallowed thickly, feeling her head prickle as though it had fallen asleep without taking her with it. 

Her lips dry, her eyes dry, feeling more sober than ever.

She took a breath and, on the next exhale, spoke.

“No.”

They both just stared at each other for a while as though neither could decide who was more shell-shocked and had the right reserved to remain still the longest. She left -deciding it was the person on the floor with the expensive ring weighing down his hand- and walked towards the mudroom.

“What are you doing?” He asked then, hesitantly at first. Shaken from his spot, he’d resumed his full height again, loudly stomping across the floor to reach her.

“I’m sorry- I- I can’t stay here- I need to go.” She rushed, head spinning, only able to understand how she wanted to put shoes on and leave. Maybe get a drink at a bar by herself and figure her shit out without being suffocated by him.

“Don’t do this.” He said then, sounding desperate and somewhat feeble if it weren’t for how he had her pushed against the wall in the same second.

She nearly decided against herself when seeing the look on his face. Warped into something truly fragile. Plead had his brows pinched together while his sharp red eyes -now doe-like- had glossed over and looked nothing short of hopeless and scared.

She’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her heart twist and ache and feel a little guilty.

But nevertheless.

“I can’t marry you, Katsuki….”

She couldn’t keep doing this.

“I’m sorry- I don’t love-” 

She didn’t get to finish. The word taken, stifled, strangled in a fist closing around her throat.

“You do love me.” He refuted quickly, as though terrified to have let her finish. “You’ve always loved me.” Trembling while he said it, as though trying to force himself into believing it too. 

Shaking her collar in unstable hands. Bearing down on her until she couldn’t be pushed flatter against the stone behind her, until his forehead rested against the wall and his lips brushed the shell of her ear in hot, heavy strained breaths. 

“You’re just confused.” He rasped, voice light and breathy and nearly amounting to a giggle -or a sob- she wasn’t sure which.

But she couldn’t care much when she couldn’t breathe. Head burning into a numb wet cotton that was no longer able to tell her to push him off and instead let her hands go limp against his chest, knees going weak beneath her. 

“Katsuki… Kat… su-”

She was convinced he’d kill her before the tiniest slither of air was allowed back in through her windpipe, gasping for it like a glutton until coughing it all up again when choking on her own desperate gulps. 

Her hands held her throat in an act of soothing it from the forming bruises and shielding it from further attack. But Katsuki was ahead of her and had his sights on attacking something else.

He took her by the hair and started pulling, dragging her from the door and further into the apartment.

“Stop- stop it- Katsuki-” She begged between hiccups and coughs, her hands clawing at his in an effort to free his grasp from her scalp. Her shins dragged to burns against the cold marble as her legs kicked in the struggle, hitting the floor in a series of sporadic thuds until he stopped. “Katsuki-”

He’d crossed the threshold of their bedroom and was now throwing her down on the mattress, pinning her in the same second with a hand gripping her jaw and eyes a searing cold that seemed to lash out at her like unstable fire, glaring at her with a look so blank and empty she felt it like the chill of death creep throughout her bones.

“If you want me to be nice, you should shut up.”

She knew she ought to listen, but still, one last prayer slipped off her tongue against her better judgment before she could think twice about it. “Katsuki, please don’t do this-”

“Don’t do what!?” He barked -spit flying and teeth bared just like a rabid rottweiler- louder than she’d ever witnessed, loud enough to make her wince. “Break your heart!?” His voice cracked on the cry, and he paused, giving another gruesome and gut-wrenching chuckle. Head ducking between her breasts with spikey hair nipping at her throat like a million needles. 

His hand tightened even more, clawing into her cheeks.

“I’m just making things even.”

She’d never realized just how hopeless she was if she’d ever needed to fend him off. But she’d never needed to before, never wanted to until now.

Now that he had her so helplessly beneath him, where the reality was slowly dawning on her and making her ever more hysteric, slowly settling upon her like dust after an explosion. The ensuing violation and her utter defeat in fighting it, her failure in doing much more than make it worse, where every time she landed anything that weakly resembled a slap or kick, he retaliated tenfold by crushing her in his strength.

Spreading her legs by positioning himself between them, he cared little for all her bleating where the former fight she’d tried to make match his diminished into desperate attempts to protect herself instead. She was sobbing now, gasping for breath with her chest rising and falling on beat with the deafening drums of her racing heart.

He tugged his tie loose and threw it off his head, wrapping her wrists in the loop and tightening it into restraints. Only now noticing just how brittle she was. So much smaller than him. So much so, he nearly abandoned his task of tying her hands to the bedpost in all. But -finding he might lose his cool and break her arm if she dared continue shoving at him- he pulled them over her head and fastened them anyway, if not for his than for her sake to avoid it.

And then she really was less than nothing beneath him. Just a defenseless pile of warm plush flesh soft against him and all his scarred muscles and callouses and years upon years of dedicated training.

She’d pulled her thighs shut, but it hardly mattered. His hands -buried in the fine plume of her cakey fat- had them both spread again with nearly no strength put into it at all. 

It was all right there -taken with no effort- only a cute pink cotton panty stopping him. 

His heart clenched at that, flickered and tugged with misery at the look of her crying into her own arm, trying to comfort herself while her chest heaved, already tired of screaming and bawling. Having resorted to soft sniffles and weak snivels while tiny quakes shook through her still, goosebumps adorning all her exposed flesh, which was every part of her sept for what her pretty silk dress kept hidden.

She was so beautiful…

Adorable. 

Precious and just…

Too good.

He knew that. He knew that she was too good for him and had always been too good for him -part of the reason why he used to act as though he hated her- when, in reality… he actually…

“I love you.” He cried. “I’ve always loved you….”

Hot tears splashed in big droplets, staining the silk with splotches that seeped into large flecks on her stomach. 

“I can’t live without you-” He continued, his hands shaking where he held her apart while his body sagged forward, bowing down, donning soft kisses to her neck and jaw, upon the tears staining her cheeks with streaks, whispering in a voice close to breaking. “I can’t- I won’t-” Choked and pitiful, raw from shouting only a moment earlier.

One of his hands detached from its bruising grip, whilst the other loosened and slid higher -pulling her dress up on its way- and started rubbing loving circles into her midriff. She heard his buckle go undone a second later and offered another whimpering sob, her own hands jostling in their bonds on beat with her shaky breaths while trying to angle her face further away with the aim of avoiding the attack of his wet teary kisses.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, but I can’t… I can’t let you go.”

She felt him press against her clothed cunt with the weight of his swollen thickness and let out another whimper. Nose stuffed full with the smell of his breath and the scent of his sweet nitro-like sweat and eyes full of unyielding tears. 

His hand reached for her panty, hooking the trail and pulling it to the side, making her sink her teeth into the plump of her lip to suppress yet another whimper while she cringed with uncomfort and the unanswered wishes for him to stop as he nibbled on the corner of her mouth with more teary proposals.

His fingers soon prodded her slit like they’d done nearly every day for years since they were but teens. Touching her with a perfected skill he’d learned would have her shiver with arousal. 

She yielded quickly, her sex turning puffy and wet sooner than she had the time to be embarrassed about it.

“No one knows you as well as I do. No one loves you as much as I do.” He chanted against her skin, entering her with both his longest digits, pumping them deep and scraping them in a cruel curl into that spot he knew had her toes doing the same. Smiling, once her hips made an involuntary jolt in response. “No one else but me.” 

He pulled his hands to himself once she’d left three of his digits warm and soaking with slick, lathering his own arousal with it before nudging his cockhead against her opening in a sticky kiss and breaching it.

She stiffened, and he groaned into her neck at the feel of her clamping down even tighter as he bottomed out into her already taunt choke.

“No one else would know how to love you.” He hissed, setting a sweet tempo, lips still close, grazing on the peachfuzz of her cheek, ghosting her skin with hot breaths and even hotter words.  “No one else would know the first thing to do with you once they had you.”

She shook her head, more so in askance of space than anything else. Needing air free of him. Needing to clear her head off the building warmth she felt spread from her core. Needing to shake the coil loose before it could knot itself further. But it seemed the more she tried fending it off, the faster it neared its end, like a spark aided by the wind in chasing the tail of a wic until exploding what dynamite found at its end.

She always shook so prettily when cumming -so preciously- when spilling over and moaning all flushed and cute for him with her hips riding it out against his until it left her panting, blushed, and adorned with a shiny sheen of dew, making her look golden in the glory of the after high.

He used to regard it as something sweet she’d give him, like a reward or devotion. 

Only now did he realize how utterly at his mercy she was -unable to keep even this from him- just completely laid bare to accept what he gave and give what he decided to take.

She was his, and not even she herself could deny it. 

She belonged to him.

She belonged to him. 

She belonged to him. 

“No one else.”

tip-jar: Kofi