I Think Im Changed Fundamentally - Tumblr Posts

with you, and only you — k.bakugou

cws: nsfw content (-18 DNI), fem reader, jealousy, katsuki is possessive and a little obsessive, mentions of violence but not towards reader, not proofread anymore i gave up #SUEME

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It was subtle at first, the trepidation. A heat simmering beneath his skin — hot to the touch, but not enough to burn. It wasn't scalding. No, not at all. He hadn't felt much besides a prickling warmth against his rattling bones, poking and prodding, yet dissipating like steam if neglected long enough. It was occasional, never a constant — he had never wanted to make it one, but…

What was he supposed to do? When the clamor in his head had amplified into a cacophony, reverberating against its walls and echoing endlessly like tinnitus. Over and over. Again and again. Like a reminder, like a warning.

Like a threat.

In the first place, he’d never been one to entertain those thoughts; they’d be eradicated before they’d even be considered. Katsuki knew better, after all, than to let any fissure of weakness crack through his veneer of composure — whatever was left of it, at least.

And so he’d do to them what he’s always done best. Obliterate. Detonate. Dominate. Until the shrapnel strewn over the rubble was past the point of no return, and he could no longer revisit those thoughts from how disfigured they would become.

But there is something about you that unearths something primal in him, something animalistic. He had tried to work off the heat boiling beneath his skin, but all that had done was bolt him down to the smoke, cementing him deeper and deeper until there was no room for escape.

He’d find himself back in the same place, in the same disarray, his chest heavy with the weight of everything he had tried to incinerate, its embers clinging to him like a vice — questioning repeatedly: What is this?

He hadn't known it then, but he’s fully capable of answering himself now.

What else, if not weakness?

Katsuki is not used to losing. That’s why it rankles him to no end, how he never had to worry about loss before you, because you are the one thing Katsuki surrenders to, weak in the knees, like a knight swearing fealty.

“Hngh — fuck — Katsuki!”

And you are the only thing he is afraid of losing.

Head spinning, the ashen blonde is anything but patient. The second the door to your shared apartment clicked shut against its latch, he had made his way to the bedroom and dived headfirst into the warmth of your cunt, lapping at your folds with an urgency he’d never known he possessed, all without having the decency to even strip you bare.

An esurient animal, truly.

You’re still clad in your outfit from the night. Only, its presentation had been roughened by Katsuki’s desperation to devour you. The fabric of your skirt bunched above the plush of your thigh. Your panties pushed to the side, sodden with his spit and your arousal. The top that adorned your figure had been no exception to his haste, its buttons now scattered all over the floor from how viciously he had ripped it apart.

A shame, really; you looked so pretty. Dressed to the nines for the weekend dates he’d clear his schedule to accommodate for — all to revel in the kiss you’d give him afterwards, heady like a drug. Your tits pressed against his chest as you’d tiptoe in your heels just to reach him.

You were so goddamn beautiful. Always so fucking goddamn beautiful that it pissed him off. Because fuck, if he sees it, it means everyone else fucking sees it too. And that was a fucking problem, because Katsuki does not like to share anything that belongs to him.

Especially you.

A moan rips from your throat as he presses his tongue against your clit, swirling it around the sensitive nub, its motions sending shockwaves of pleasure to pulsate through you, undulating and merciless. Writhing, your legs seek respite, instinctively parting for a break, only to lock around Katsuki as he seizes your thighs even tighter with a grip made of steel.

He peers at you in warning, his eyes saying it all.

Don’t fuckin’ move.

Wordless at how unabashed he is being, you obey, one half of you shy, the other half rendered helpless.

Is this heaven, or is it hell?

As he has his cake and eats it, you are not entirely too sure. With how everything has begun to blur, your surroundings sinking into the swell of your heightened senses, nothing seems to be making sense anymore. You have grown slightly nebulous at the feeling brewing between your thighs, tipsy on the sensation. Too far gone, yet not entirely there yet.

The euphoria of it all feels like heaven, but with how much it burns like sin, it must be hell.

“K-katsuki—!” You whine when he pulls away from you after nearly sending you past the brink of your orgasm. It was painful, but also felt so good — was this a punishment, or a reward?

Neither. The answer is neither.

It’s a reminder — of who you belong to.

As he clambers on top of you, his gaze hungry, you swelter underneath him. “You come on my cock.” He pants in between breaths, situating his thighs to cage your own. “Otherwise, you don’t get to come at all.”

His fingers fumble with the zipper of his jeans, springing his raging hard on free from the confines of his boxers.

It’s heavy, the weight of it. Slaps against his stomach like it always does, already throbbing at the prospect of taking you. The shade of it an angry red, flushed at the tip, ruddy and slick with precum.

His eyes gleam at the sight spread out before him, fiery kilns flaring even brighter. He’s already drunk on the taste of you, but he finds himself in a trance now, desperate to feel the stretch of your cunt around his girth, the sloppy slip and slide of your shared debauchery.

He’s so hard he could die.

Katsuki clicks his teeth as he gives himself a few tugs, hissing when his hips buck involuntarily, grinding against nothing. He aligns his tip to the slick of your heat soon after, controlled by urge, pressing himself flush against you the second he enters, sweeping over a nipple as he coos at you so sweetly to take it.

Because you’re always sensitive at first — a delicate thing that needs guidance — so Katsuki makes it a habit to be gentle in the beginning, regardless of the situation, regardless of his intention.

(Regardless of how lewd you turn out in the end.)

And you like the contact. Your skin against his skin, chest to chest. The way you can feel his heart racing, and how it’s in tandem with yours. It’s reassuring. Safe. Lets you know you’re in control of him just as much as he’s in control of you.

Good girl, just like that. Just take it. So fuckin’ good for me.

The praise is murmured against the curve of your jaw, tingling with the open-mouthed kisses he sears into your skin like an imprint. You grow dizzy from the affection, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you slowly begin to rut your hips to meet his thrusts. “K-Katsuki,” you drawl, legs wrapping around his torso, as if to root him in place.

He would have laughed, if his mouth wasn't already so busy tending to you — swallowing moan after moan, and pressing kiss after kiss, kindled from the heat of it all.

Fuckin’ hilarious. There’s no need for any of that. He’s not going anywhere, don’t you know this? You should, by now.

Though…

“Faster. More,” you sputter, miserably clamping down around him. “Want more, Katsuki. Please. Katsuki, please.”

With how utterly dumb of a mess he’s managed to weave you into, you might not be in the right headspace to think at all.

Guess he’ll just have to remind you.

“Yeah I fuckin’ got you, sweetheart,” he gloats, close to a growl, raspy and needy. Each push and pull feels as guilty as sin — the burn of pleasure cauterizing the ache of his desire.

“You and your angel cunt.” A slam of his hips. “Takes me in so — so well.” And another. “Practically made for me. ‘S no wonder she’s all mine.”

It’s no wonder you’re all mine, too, was left unsaid, swallowed by the moment. He’s at a loss for words, paralyzed by the heat licking at his spine. Katsuki is frazzled, close to burning. Any trace of exhaustion that had previously coursed through his body now drowned out by the all too consuming adrenaline surging through him like wildfire. Still, he’s never been anything but iron-willed.

A hand slips to sneak around your throat.

Eyeing the flesh, ripe, Katsuki is possessed by this sudden urge to sink his teeth into the column of your neck. He’d already marked you countless times into the night, love bites littering the expanse of your chest, ready to bloom violets when morning comes. But it’s not enough to quell his thirst. He’s hungry, still.

He wants more. Wants to claim you as his. Because that’s what you are — his. And even if the bulge of his cockhead kneading into your cervix reminds you of who you belong to, it doesn’t extend that notice to others.

They still stare, still look at you like you’re a slab of meat. Like a predator waiting to ambush on its prey, their gazes hungry, eyes dropping to where they shouldn't even be fucking looking. All while you’re beside him, too. Don’t they know their fucking place? Don't they see how weak they look next to him? How much they pale in comparison?

He’d kill them if he could, gouge their eyes out of their sockets and blast them with his quirk, sending them into the inferno. But he’s a hero. One who still has to adhere to moral conduct, despite how much everyone pushes him to go against it. But fuck, if another bastard fucks you with their eyes like that again, he’ll gladly send himself to Tartarus.

“God, you’re so—” he grits his teeth, his palms moving to cup your asscheeks as he decides against it. Control yourself. “—so fuckin’ hot. A goddamn tease. Do you like it? Riling me up like that? Making me angry?” He taunts.

“Cause I don’t. It’s not fuckin’ nice, princess.”

He’s right. It isn’t nice at all. Especially for someone like Katsuki, who had never been a patient person. His temper had always been through the roof, even from the second he was born — explosive yet enticing all the same.

Still, you never expected this much when you poked fun at him on the car ride home, tounging at his mouth and palming the tent in his slacks as you teased him for being jealous, unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

You did not take heed to the silence that followed afterwards — that was your mistake. And this,

“‘M sorry! ‘M s—sorry!”

This was your lesson.

“You don’t sound fuckin’ sorry,” he barks, pulling you to match his rhythm, since you’re too goddamn spoiled to do it yourself now. “You sound like a slut.”

You feel like one, too, with how your legs quake around him, trembling from the poorly drawn circles he rubs against your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“N-not a slut…” you slur, even though how you’re presenting yourself says otherwise. A manic kind of grin paints his face.

“Then what are you, huh?” he spits.

Katsuki backs up — slowly, teasingly — until just the tip remains inside you. “If you’re not a slut—” He watches as you clench around nothing, your gaping hole fluttering with the ache to be filled. “—Then what are you?”

You already know.

Without any consideration, or maybe too much of it, Katsuki buries himself to the hilt, so deep you could practically feel him in your stomach. It robbed you of your breath, knocked out all the air inside your lungs until all you could feel was him.

“Answer me.”

One last slam of his hips until…

You fall apart, coming undone as the knot inside you snaps, unraveling as it makes way for your release to squirt against his pelvis.

“Katsuki’s — Hmgh! — I’m Katsuki’s! I’m yours!”

That was the last thing he could handle before he followed suit, dribbles of cum painting your insides as he clung onto you. A weak mumble of a curse left his mouth when your hands snaked around him to dig their fingertips into the muscles of his back, carving rogue half moons onto his shoulder blade.

“Hell fuckin’ right, you are.”

He grabs your chin, smashing his lips against yours to entangle you both in a strangled kiss. “Mine,” he says against it, continuing the rock of his hips before pulling away to make clear his intention. “Fucking say it again.”

You mewl in protest, already tugging on his hair to pull him down. Forehead to forehead, your hot breath fanning the dew on his flushed cheeks, you promise:

“Y-yours, ‘m yours."

“Yeah.” His dick twitches inside you.

“Mine. Mine. All mine. Only mine.”

So you better fucking remember it. And everyone else, too, for his sake and their own. Because while there are better ways to stake his claim on you — like slipping the diamond ring kept hidden in his drawer on your finger — he’s not above punting some bastard in the face.

Guilty as charged. Fucking sue him. He’s always been selfish. You know this, so don’t let up — you’re the only one he’d get on his knees for, anyway.