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"You're my little toy, and I don't like to share."

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

WARNING⚠️: Dub-Con, Smut, Bullying, Debatably Bad Writing, I spelled Katsuki's name wrong and im too lazy to fix it.

You've been warned <3

Y/N walked into class with a sense of dread, her heart beating in her chest like a trapped bird. She knew what was coming, the same old routine that had become a sickening part of her school life. Katsuki Bakugo sat in the back, his eyes narrowing as she approached her desk. He was the epitome of toxic masculinity wrapped in a high school uniform, and she was his favorite target.

"Oh, look who it is," he sneered, as she tried to ignore him and focus on her book. "The useless little shit with the weird hair."

The classroom grew tense as all eyes shifted towards them. Y/N felt her cheeks burning with humiliation as she sat down and turned to face the front of the room, hoping that would be the end of it. But she knew better. The chair creaked as Bakugo leaned back, his fingers finding their way to the locks of her hair that fell just in front of her shoulder. He tugged, not hard enough to cause pain, but enough to make it clear that he was there, watching her, claiming his territory. The sensation of his touch made her skin crawl, but she didn't dare show it.

Mr. Aizawa, their homeroom teacher, strode into the room, his sharp gaze scanning over the students. He had a way of silencing a room without saying a word, his very presence demanding respect. He looked at Y/N with a flicker of concern, but she quickly dropped her gaze to avoid his scrutiny. She knew he'd noticed the tension between her and Bakugo, but she didn't want to make waves. Not today.

The lesson began, and Y/N found it impossible to focus. Her mind was racing with thoughts of the last time she had been alone with Bakugo, the way his hands had felt on her body, the way he had claimed her so roughly and without care for her feelings. She couldn't reconcile the monster he was in public with the one who sought her out in private. It was as if there were two of him, and she didn't know which one she hated more.

Mr. Aizawa's voice was a dull hum in the background as she took furtive glances at the clock, counting down the minutes until she could escape. She felt his eyes on her, but she kept her own gaze averted. The last thing she wanted was for him to ask questions she didn't have the answers to. Or worse, for him to see the dark circles under her eyes, the bruises she had hidden with makeup, the tremble in her hand as she held her pencil.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, she bolted up from her seat, her books clutched to her chest like a shield. She had become an expert at navigating the crowded hallways without drawing attention to herself. It was a skill she had honed out of necessity. She didn't want to give Bakugo any more opportunities to torment her today.

Mr. Aizawa's eyes followed her as she slipped out of the room, and she felt a pang of guilt for worrying him. But she didn't want his pity. Or worse, his intervention. That would only make things worse with Bakugo. She knew he wasn't the type to back down from a challenge, and she wasn't about to give him one.

Y/N's footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as she made her way towards the exit, her eyes darting to the windows that lined the corridor. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the floor that seemed to stretch out and grab at her ankles. She picked up the pace, her heart racing faster than it had during the most intense training sessions with All Might. The thought of Bakugo following her home was both terrifying and exhilarating. Her body responded in ways she didn't understand, a betrayal that made her stomach churn.

When she stepped outside, she took a deep breath of the crisp evening air, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. The schoolyard was empty, the other students having already dispersed to their various after-school activities or homes. She started walking, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of him. It was a game she had played many times before, a sadistic dance of cat and mouse that she never wanted to be a part of. But she couldn't shake the feeling that today was different.

Sure enough, she heard the telltale sound of his footsteps, the heavy tread that seemed to shake the very ground beneath her. She didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge his presence. Instead, she picked up her pace, her sneakers slapping against the concrete as she hurried towards the safety of the bustling streets. But she knew he was there, his shadow stretching out behind her like a dark promise of what was to come.

Y/N reached her house with trembling hands, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She fumbled with her keys, the metal cold and slippery against her sweat-slicked skin. Finally, she managed to get the door open and stepped inside, ready to slam it shut behind her. But before she could, a firm hand gripped the edge of the door, preventing it from closing. She froze, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Going home without saying goodbye?" Bakugo's voice was a low growl, and she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck as he leaned in. His smirk was palpable even without looking at him, the condescending tone of his words like a knife twisting in her gut. "That's not very nice, is it?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her hand clutching the doorframe as she stuttered out a response. "I-I didn't want to bother you." She could feel the tremor in her voice, the fear and anger warring within her. She wished she could turn around and tell him exactly what she thought of him, but she knew better. Instead, she took a shaky step backward, giving him enough space to enter.

Bakugo's grip on the door tightened, and he stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click that seemed to echo through the empty house. He moved closer, his hand sliding around her waist, his touch feather-light despite the heavy presence he exuded. "You never have to worry about bothering me, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. The endearment made her stomach turn, but she forced herself to stay still, to not flinch away from his touch. His fingers trailed up her side, tracing the curve of her ribs, his thumb brushing against the side of her breast. It was a possessive gesture, one that made her skin crawl.

"Do you not like it when I play with you?" His voice was a low purr, the question laced with a hint of challenge. "Or do you hate me for it?"

Y/N stiffened in his embrace, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to keep the tears at bay. She hated the way he talked to her, the way he treated her like she was something to be used and discarded. But she knew better than to show her true feelings. "I just... I don't understand why you have to be so cruel in front of everyone." Her voice was barely a whisper, her throat tight with the effort of holding back the emotions that threatened to spill over.

Bakugo's chuckle was dark and low, his grip on her waist tightening ever so slightly. "It's simple," he murmured, his breath hot against her cheek. "I do it to let them all know that you're mine. No one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to talk to you. You're my little toy, and I don't like to share."

With that, he began to undress her, his movements slow and deliberate. He pulled at the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head in one smooth motion. His eyes roved over her exposed torso, lingering on the swell of her breasts that were just visible above the lacy edge of her bra. "Look at you," he whispered, his voice thick with something that might have been desire, or perhaps just the thrill of the power he held over her. "So pretty, but so fragile." He flicked the clasp of her bra open, letting it fall to the floor.

Her breath caught in her throat as he cupped one of her breasts, his thumb brushing over the nipple until it peaked. "You're like a delicate little bird," he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine. "So easy to break." He bent his head, his hot mouth closing around the sensitive flesh, his teeth grazing her nipple. She bit back a moan, her body responding despite herself. His other hand traveled down to her jeans, unbuttoning them with a practiced ease, the fabric parting to reveal the matching lacy underwear beneath.

With a rough shove, he pushed her backward, her legs giving out beneath her. She landed on the couch with a soft thump, the cushions molding to her body. He stepped closer, his hands sliding down her thighs, pushing them apart. "Look how wet you are for me," he said, his voice a mix of satisfaction and mockery. "You can't help but want it, can you?"

Bakugo's touch was like fire on her skin, setting it alight with a need she couldn't control. She hated herself for it, for the way her body responded to his cruelty, but she was powerless against the desire that surged through her. His hands moved to the waistband of her underwear, tugging them down her legs. He stepped back for a moment, taking in the sight of her exposed to him. "Spread your legs," he ordered, his eyes dark with lust.

Y/N obeyed, her cheeks burning as she parted her thighs for him. He smirked, his gaze shamelessly roving over her most intimate parts. She could feel the wetness pooling between her legs, and she knew he could see it too. It was a humiliating reminder of the power he held over her, and she felt a mix of anger and arousal that she didn't know how to process.

"You're so eager," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck as he leaned in to kiss her. His hand slid between her legs, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh with a possessive hunger. She gasped as he touched her, her body responding despite her mind's protests. His thumb found her clit, circling it with a maddening slowness that had her squirming on the couch. He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. "So sensitive," he murmured. "You're going to scream for me tonight."

The sound of his phone ringing shattered the tension, a harsh electronic intrusion into the intimate moment. He didn't bother to move his hand, keeping his fingers deep inside her as he reached for his pocket with his free hand. The phone's screen lit up with an unknown number, and he brought it to his ear, his expression bored. "What?" he snapped into the receiver, not bothering with a greeting.

Y/N's body tensed, her breath hitching as she tried to remain quiet. The sensation of his fingers moving within her was almost too much, her walls clenching around him involuntarily. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she waited for him to finish his call, her eyes darting around the room for any escape. But she knew there was none, not now. His thumb brushed against her clit with purposeful strokes, sending waves of pleasure through her that she didn't want to feel but couldn't help but crave.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she bit down on her lower lip to muffle the sounds of her moans. It was a futile effort; she could feel the tension coiling inside her, building towards the inevitable climax. And just as she felt the first sparks of orgasm, his call ended with a curt, "Later," and he hung up, his grin wicked as he looked back down at her.

With a sudden jerk, he pulled his hand away, leaving her panting and desperately unsatisfied. The wetness between her legs felt cold and exposed in the absence of his touch. "Looks like we'll have to continue this another time," he said with a smug smile. "I've got somewhere to be."