fanoc18plus

[fanoc18plus]

Unsuccessful Dates

Two years. Two damn years since she walked away, and now Vanessa was trying to move on—well, speed date, anyway. Not like it ever went anywhere.

Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was just dumb luck. Or maybe it was because that explosive, cocky, insufferable asshole just wouldn’t let her.

Her phone buzzed on the table.

Unknown Number: "For later."

That was all it said.

Vanessa sighed through her nose, tongue clicking in irritation. How many burner numbers had he gone through by now?

Her date—clueless but not entirely stupid—took notice.

"You okay?"

She barely glanced up. "Yeah. It's nothing. Just an ex."

Total lie. Because if it were nothing, she wouldn’t have grabbed her phone so fast. If it were nothing, her heart wouldn’t be hammering against her ribs like she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

And that was why her dates never lasted.

With a deep sigh, she climbed into her Jeep—alone, as usual. Tossing her phone onto the passenger seat, she stared at the text again.

And then she tapped the link.

A video loaded.

The first thing she saw was his bare, calloused hand gripping a box.

"Look at what I found online."

The camera tilted, revealing the packaging.

A Scarlet X Fleshlight.

Vanessa squinted. "My pussy don’t look like that."

Bakugo’s pre-recorded voice cut in like he’d heard her thoughts.

"Shit doesn’t even look like the real thing. But apparently, it ‘feels’ like the real thing."

Her breath hitched.

He knew better. Knew exactly what she felt like. What she tasted like. And no cheap knockoff could ever compare.

"You got some sick fucks for fans, y'know that?" he scoffed. "Damn thing sold out. Had to get into a fuckin’ bidding war just to grab the last one."

She paused the video, glancing around, paranoia creeping up her spine. No one was nearby. Good.

The engine rumbled as she pulled onto a more secluded side street, heart pounding in anticipation. Then, with shaky fingers, she pressed play.

Bakugo ripped open the box and grunted, already unimpressed. But that didn’t stop him. His big hands slicked the thing up with lube, his rough voice filling the car’s speakers.

"Hate this shit, y’know that?! Can’t even jerk off normally—gotta buy crap like this just to feel like I’m fuckin’ you."

Her breath shuddered out of her lungs.

He sounded pissed. Annoyed. Desperate.

And yet, he stopped caring about all that the moment he sank his cock into that fake version of her.

Her thighs clenched together, fingers already twitching to touch herself.

"Fuck—", Bakugo groaned, slamming into the toy like it was personal.

Vanessa swallowed thickly, toes curling in her heels.

"Dating? The fuck is that about, hah?! Tryna forget me? Forget us?"

He let out this low, dark laugh, the kind that made her walls flutter around nothing.

"Yeah, right. You miss me too much."

The camera shook slightly as he rammed into the toy harder. It could barely take him—she could see the back of it bulging like the thing was seconds away from breaking.

"Shit, I’m gonna pop the fuckin’ end off," he growled. "Bet you wish it was you right now... Fuckin’ hell, I wish it were you right now."

Vanessa whimpered, eyes hazy with lust as her fingers worked between her legs, fingers finding their way under her drenched through panties, circling her clit in time with his thrusts.

"Woulda had you creamin’ all over this dick by now—shit, it’s like a never-endin’—"

His hips stuttered. His jaw clenched.

"Fuck!!"

And then he was done, thick ropes of cum spilling deep into the toy.

Vanessa let out a sharp, frustrated groan, her soaked pussy clenching around nothing.

"Dammit," she whined. "So close… Why the fuck’d he nut so fast?!"

She sat there, panting, legs spread in the driver’s seat. And suddenly, the realization hit her like a truck—she needed it.

Needed him.

She grabbed her phone and tried calling the unknown number.

No connection.

Her nostrils flared. "What—"

This motherfucker.

This teasing, sadistic, blue-ballin’ motherfucker.

Her fingers moved before she could stop herself. She scrolled through her blocked contacts, found his real number, and hovered over the ‘unblock’ button.

One tap.

One breath.

And then she hit ‘call.’

The line rang once.

Twice.

And then—

It picked up.

End.

[fanoc18plus]

High Tensions

NSFW Tokyo was loud as hell tonight, but the only thing louder was the tension crackling between them like a live wire. Vanessa knew it. He knew it. And that was the damn problem.

Avoiding him was easy when she wasn’t near him. That part was simple. But Vanessa wasn’t stupid—not even close. She knew she’d have to see Bakugo out on the streets of Japan, throwing hands with villains like it was just another Tuesday. She knew she’d run into him at HQ during meetings that actually mattered. That part was unavoidable, and she’d accepted it.

But the real problem?

The way he kept fucking looking at her.

He knew she saw his message. Four months ago. And she hadn’t said a damn thing about it.

Yeah, she knew he knew. So what?

She didn’t owe him a response. Didn’t owe him her time, her attention—nothing. And the fact that he was walking around like she did—just because of a weak-ass "hey"—was pissing her off more than she cared to admit.

Sirens blared down the Tokyo streets, flashing reds and blues bouncing off buildings. The perps were already wrapped up, slapped in those quirk-nulling cuffs, but Vanessa was still dealing with the police report, explaining shit in that calm, collected way of hers.

Bakugo wasn’t even tryin’ to listen. He already knew the drill. Instead, his crimson eyes stayed locked on her, arms crossed, jaw tight. She still wouldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Oh, she had another thing comin’.

“Missed one.” His voice cut through the noise as he dragged a half-conscious gang member over by the collar, the scent of burnt fabric and smoke clinging to the bastard like a signature.

Vanessa didn’t even look at him. “He wasn’t part of what went down.”

“Tch. So what?” He dropped the body at the officers’ feet, eyes narrowing. “Same place, same case.”

“Not everything’s black and white.”

"Yeah? Could’ve fooled me."

The cop writing up the report looked between them awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure if they were about to throw hands or fuck right there in the street. Wouldn’t be the first time their arguments got too heated.

"Don’t start, Dynamight."

“Start what? This?” He motioned to the unconscious bastard he just tossed like garbage. “Cleaning up your shit?”

Deadpan. Pure fuckin’ deadpan.

“…I can’t stand your ass.”

His smirk was sharp, cocky. “Yeah? Ya still think about it though.”

Before she could fire back, their work phones blared—high-level threat nearby. Thank. Fucking. God.

Vanessa took off first, shooting into the sky like a bullet. Bakugo wasn’t far behind, his explosions rocketing him forward, keeping pace like it was effortless.

Maybe she could run from his texts. His calls. His fuckin’ presence.

But she couldn’t run from him here.

Sure, there was tension between them—real thick, suffocating tension—but it never showed when they worked together. That was the one thing they had down to a fuckin’ science. In battle, they were a well-oiled machine. No room for bullshit, no distractions.

"Oh fuck—NO ONE SAID SCARLET X AND DYNAMIGHT WERE GONNA BE HERE!"

Yeah, the entire Tokyo underworld knew what was up by now.

Word on the street was, these two did not play. They were running through criminals like a damn demolition crew, tearing through Tokyo’s worst like they had a personal grudge against crime itself.

Which… wasn’t entirely wrong.

Maybe it was a little much. Maybe it was overkill.

But how the hell else were they supposed to blow off steam?

The gym? Pfft. Yeah, okay, sure. That helped.

But nothing hit quite the same as putting a motherfucker in the dirt.

And then there was the third option—the one Vanessa kept pushing down. The one that clawed its way to the surface every time they fought together.

The way Bakugo moved when she was around. The way he always showed off when he knew she was watching. The way she got too close sometimes, and it felt like crossing a tripwire, waiting for the detonation.

Like right now.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t break both your fuckin’ legs."

The muscle-for-hire whimpered. "B-Because you're the good guys?!"

Vanessa rolled her eyes before pinning the guy down with a few quick Red X’s, then turned to Bakugo—who smelled like cologne and burnt caramel, body still humming from the fight.

Shit.

And the way his damn muscles flexed when she placed a hand on his chest to hold him back?

Double shit.

“Chill out.”

She felt the growl vibrate in his chest. Felt it in her fucking bones. And the way her pussy clenched at the sound?

Fuck.

By the time the cops rolled in, the two of them were gone, slipping into a shadowed alleyway like ghosts.

Except ghosts didn’t grind up against each other like this.

Vanessa had her hands planted against the brick wall, her ass pressed firm against Bakugo’s thick, pulsing cock, grinding against him with slow, deliberate rolls of her hips.

“I can’t believe you fuckin’ blocked me. Me?!”

His hands were gripping her ass, kneading the flesh like he wanted to tear through the tight fabric of her hero suit. Wanted to get to her, taste her, suck her clit into his mouth until she was shaking, make her scream his name just to prove a fuckin’ point.

She hissed at the way he ground against her, the pressure hitting just right. “Stop actin’ like you ain’t been on some stalker shit, blowin’ up my phone with random burner numbers.”

“‘Cause you keep ignorin’ me! You know I hate that shit but you keep—”

His breath hitched when she rolled her hips back against him, pressing harder into his aching dick. His fingers dug into her flesh.

“…Dammit.”

He leaned in, grinding against her with purpose now, voice rough with frustration. “How much longer you gonna keep this up, huh? How—fuck. You gettin’ wet through the suit?”

Or was that his precum? Fuck, he couldn’t even tell.

She was soaked, though, and she knew it.

“Shit, Zuki… just shut the fuck up and do somethin’ about it, then.”

Oh, that tone? That hungry, desperate little growl? That was leverage.

Bakugo grinned, pulling back just enough to make her whine at the loss of contact. “Oh, now you want me to fuck you?”

Her patience snapped. She turned on him, eyes dark, lips parted, chest heaving.

“Yeah, okay. So what?”

And then she had him pinned, Red X’s locking his wrists against the wall, restraining him like she fuckin’ owned him. His cock twitched at the display of dominance, a breathless grunt slipping from his lips.

“Can you blame me?”

Vanessa worked fast, hand slipping between them, palming his cock and balls through his pants. Bakugo let out a choked grunt, hips jerking into her touch. “F-Fuckin’ hell—”

His hips jerked into her palm harder, his jaw tight. "Keep doin’ that shit, see what happens."

She squeezed a little harder.

His whole body shuddered.

"You're right,” she admitted, breath hot against his jaw. “I've been ignoring you. But damn it, Katsuki, you don’t make it easy, you fuckin’ stalker-ass bitch."

Then, her free hand shot out.

“Spit. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate. Spat straight into her open palm with a nasty fuckin’ smirk, watching as she yanked his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, slapping against his stomach—rock-fucking-hard, leaking precum like he was waiting for this all damn night.

And that? That was the last bit of control either of them had left.

She dropped to her knees.

Then, her tongue flicked over the tip.

"Gonna keep teasin’ or you gonna suck me o—ooofffffuuuuckkk."

He snapped his head back against the brick, teeth clenched, trying to hold on, trying not to lose his shit too fast.

That was it. That was all he had.

The second she really locked in, double-gripping, saliva slicking up the movement as she bobbed her head, tongue circling the tip like she was trying to kill him? He was fucking gone.

“Fuckin’ hell—oohhshit—Vanessa—fuck, wait!”

Too late.

His hips stuttered, thighs flexing as he came hard down her throat. She swallowed every drop, sucking him dry until he was twitching, panting, brain fuckin’ fried.

And when she finally came up, his breath was ragged, eyes glazed, mind a complete fucking mess.

"Vanessa..." His voice was lower now, hoarse, needy. "Can we talk? Please? Unblock me, babe."

But she wasn’t done.

She was too busy unzipping her suit, too busy lining him up, too busy guiding him in, sinking down onto his still-throbbing cock, making both of them groan.

"Ohhh, fuck—"

“Yeah, you miss me, don’t’cha?” His voice was thick, low, nearly hoarse. “…I missed you too.”

He groaned deep, jaw clenching, fighting the urge to do more than just fuck her. Wanted to kiss her, lift her up, whisper in her ear how much he thought about her—not just the sex, but everything.

Her walls clenched around him tight, and he smirked against her shoulder.

"Shit—fuck, Katsuki."

"That’s it, baby. Keep throwin’ that ass back."

She did. Hard. “Mm, you like that, Zuki? Huh? You love this pussy?”

His groaned, “Yeah, baby. Yeah. Fuck—mng—fuck this dick for me, baby. Fuck it good.”

She was close, and so was he.

And just when they were right there, teetering on the edge, drowning in it—

BZZZT!

The fucking work alert.

Vanessa slumped forward a bit, panting. Bakugo groaned, still deep inside her, throbbing, pulsing.

“…You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

What shitty timing. End

[fanoc18plus]

Favorite Dish

NSFW She was fucking evil. That was the only explanation. Vanessa wasn’t just sitting in his dorm—nah, she was sprawled out, looking like she owned the place, like she owned him, and yeah, maybe she did. He was too far gone to pretend otherwise.

Her stupid little shorts were the final straw. Soft, barely-there, teasing him like they had a fucking personal vendetta. Every shift of her hips, every bounce of her ass when she moved, it was driving him straight up the fucking wall. She knew it, too.

“Oi.” His voice came out rough, gritted between his teeth. “You tryin’ to piss me off?”

Vanessa stretched, slow and deliberate, like a damn cat. Smirking. Smirking. “Maybe.”

His jaw flexed. His fingers twitched. Oh, she wanted to play games? Fine. She wanted to tease? He’d let her. Let her push and push until she backed herself into a corner, until she was right where he wanted her—breathless, trembling, wrecked.

His thigh tensed under her, and she felt it. Reacted to it. The barest hitch in her breath, the way her thighs pressed just a little closer together. His eyes locked onto that tiny movement, and something in him snapped.

“Get over here,” he growled, already grabbing at her waist, already yanking her closer, until she was right there, straddling his lap.

She laughed—laughed—like she wasn’t already breathing heavier, like she wasn’t already burning up for him. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“You.” His hands were on her thighs, sliding up, squeezing, feeling the heat of her skin through those fucking shorts. His breath was hot against her neck when he muttered, “Always you.”

And then his fingers were hooked under the hem, dragging them down in one sharp motion, no patience, no hesitation. The second they hit the floor, his grip tightened, flipping her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress.

Vanessa barely had time to catch her breath before he was on her, spreading her legs, throwing one over his shoulder. His eyes darkened at the sight of her, soaked, glistening, ready.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice rough, reverent. His fingers traced her inner thigh, slow, teasing. “You get this wet just from teasing me?”

She bit her lip, shifting, trying to close her legs, but he held them open, firm, unrelenting.

“Nu-uh,” he smirked, dragging his tongue along his bottom lip. “You don’t get to be shy now.”

Then, with zero warning, his mouth was on her, hot and demanding. His tongue was everywhere—lapping, teasing, devouring. The taste of her hit his tongue, and it was over. He groaned, low and deep, like he was the one being pleasured, like this was what he needed to survive.

Vanessa gasped, her fingers flying to his hair, gripping tight, but that only spurred him on. His arms wrapped around her thighs, locking her in place as he worked his tongue against her, flicking, curling, sucking until she was whimpering, squirming, trying to pull away.

“Tch. Stay still.” His voice was muffled against her, but his grip was firm. “You wanted to tease? Now you take it.”

His tongue dipped deeper, and her breath hitched. He felt her tremble, felt the way she clenched around nothing, desperate for more.

“Yeah,” he murmured against her, grinning against her heat. “That’s what I thought.”

She tried to speak—tried to say his name—but all that came out was a breathless, broken moan.

Bakugo chuckled darkly, dragging his tongue up, circling, pressing. Relentless.

“Can’t talk, huh?” He pressed a kiss right against her clit, slow and deliberate. “Good.”

And then he really got to work.

End

[fanoc18plus]

Fast & Fucking Furious

NSFW The night air is thick with heat, the scent of burnt rubber and gasoline clinging to the streets like a challenge. The low growl of his muscle car echoes off the empty road, engine snarling like a beast on a leash, waiting—begging—to be let loose. And Bakugo? He’s got one hand on the wheel, wrist draped over the top like he doesn’t give a damn, but his eyes—those molten, wicked red eyes—are locked onto her like he’s already decided how this night’s gonna go.

He smirks, all sharp teeth and cocky arrogance, leaning out the window just enough to make her shiver.

“Get the fuck in, dumbass.”

She doesn’t hesitate. Of course, she doesn’t.

The door slams shut behind her, and before she can even get her seatbelt on, he’s already tearing down the road, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift—tattooed fingers flexing, shifting, controlling. The bass from the speakers is violent, thumping through her chest, but it’s got nothing on the tension humming between them, crackling like the fuse of a goddamn bomb.

She watches him, eyes tracing the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips—fuck, she’s staring and she doesn’t care. She wants him to notice.

And he does. Of course, he does.

His eyes flick toward her for half a second, full of heat and challenge, before snapping back to the road. “The hell you lookin’ at?”

She doesn’t answer—not with words. Instead, her hand moves—slow, teasing—dragging up his thigh like she owns him, fingers ghosting over the bulge in his sweats.

The reaction is instant. His grip on the wheel tightens, his knuckles white, his jaw clenching hard enough to crack.

“Tch—fuckin’ hell—”

His foot slams heavier on the gas, the engine screaming as he pushes it faster, burning through the streets like a goddamn reckless menace.

But she’s not done. Not even close.

She unclicks her seatbelt.

His head snaps toward her. “What the fuck are you doin’? We’re—”

Too late. She’s already moving, already climbing over the console, swinging a leg over his lap, settling her weight right where she knows he needs her the most.

His growl is feral, deep in his throat, vibrating against her chest as she presses close. His hands find her immediately—one gripping her thigh so tight it’ll leave bruises, the other still barely holding onto the wheel, struggling to stay in control of the car and himself.

She leans in, lips grazing his jaw, his pulse hammering against her teeth as she whispers, “Drive faster, Dynamight.”

And fuck—it wrecks him.

His snarl is sharp and breathless as he yanks the wheel, throwing them onto a side road so fast the tires scream against the pavement. The moment he slams the car into park, his hands are on her, gripping, pulling, shoving, moving her exactly where he wants her.

She barely has time to process what’s happening before he’s twisting their bodies, flipping their positions so fast it knocks the breath from her lungs. One second she’s straddling him, teasing him with slow, torturous rolls of her hips—

The next, her back is pressed to the cold leather of the passenger seat, and he’s caging her in, red eyes dark and fucking dangerous.

His hands roam, rough and greedy, dragging up her thighs, his breath hot against her lips as he growls, “Think you can fuckin’ play with me? Hah?”

She barely has time to smirk before he’s manhandling her again—gripping her by the thighs and dragging her across the seat like she weighs nothing. The car door flies open, and suddenly, she’s being hauled out, her back hitting the side of the car as he presses into her, trapping her between the heat of his body and the cold metal.

His lips are on her neck, biting, sucking, marking, hands everywhere, groping, squeezing, owning every inch of her. Her nails rake down his back, pulling a guttural growl from his throat that makes her throb between her legs.

And then—he’s lifting her again.

Her gasp is swallowed by his lips as he carries her, arms locking under her thighs, and before she knows it—

She’s flat on her back on the hood of his car.

The metal is warm beneath her, heat from the engine seeping into her spine as he towers over her, eyes burning with pure, unfiltered hunger.

His fingers curl around the waistband of her panties, yanking them down with zero finesse.

And she barely has time to whimper before his lips are on her—hot, relentless, tongue flicking over her clit in fast, messy strokes like he’s devouring her.

Her thighs try to close around his head, but he growls, shoving them apart, fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise. “Don’t you fuckin’ run from me.”

She can’t. Not with the way he’s holding her down, the way his tongue is working her so perfectly she can barely breathe, let alone think.

His name spills from her lips like a prayer, back arching, nails raking through his spiky hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against her. The vibrations send a shockwave through her, and she’s done for, coming apart so hard she nearly screams.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are slick, his eyes wild, pupils blown so wide they’re nearly black. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like the cocky bastard he is.

“You’re not fuckin’ done.”

She barely has time to catch her breath before he’s undoing his sweats, shoving them low enough to free his cock—thick, aching, already dripping for her.

She reaches for him, but he catches her wrist, pinning it to the hood as he lines himself up, teasing her with slow, torturous drags of his tip against her still-throbbing clit.

“You wanna act like a fuckin’ brat?” His voice is all gravel and sin, lips brushing her ear as he pushes just the tip inside before pulling out again. “Then you’re gonna beg for it.”

Her hips jerk. “Bakugo—”

He cuts her off, sinking in, inch by inch, until he’s so deep she swears she sees stars.

Her breath stutters. “F—fuck—”

“Yeah?” His grip on her thighs tightens, spreading her wider, forcing her to take every inch. “That what you wanted, hah? Thought you could fuckin’ play with me, baby? You wanted this dick so bad—then fuckin’ take it.”

And fuck, does he give it to her.

Each thrust is brutal, punishing, the hood of the car rocking beneath them as he wrecks her in the open night, the moon bearing witness to the way he completely owns her body.

His forehead drops to hers, sweat slicking their skin, breath ragged as he snarls, “Say my name.”

She gasps it, moans it, screams it.

And when she shatters around him, body locking up, nails biting into his back, he loses it, growling curses against her lips as he fucks her through it, spilling everything he’s got inside her, marking her in every possible way.

When the high fades, they’re a mess—panting, tangled, completely spent.

She smirks up at him, chest still heaving. “Think we broke your car, Dynamight.”

He huffs, running a hand through his sweaty hair, looking at her like she’s the only fucking thing that matters.

“Who gives a shit?” He leans down, biting her lower lip, voice dropping into something dangerously soft.

“I’m not fuckin’ done with you yet.” End

[fanoc18plus]