Summary: Dynamight can’t seem to focus on his duties with a pretty little thing like you taking your sweet time scoping the crime scene.
Adult!Bakugou x Forensic Detective!Reader
⚠️ fluff. violence.
l Next l
You’re trying to gather a sample of blood for evidence and he’s standing behind you with his arms crossed, jabbing at his teeth with a little wooden pick. When he’s done his idle activity, he tosses the pick in the trash. At least he’s meticulous about keeping the crime scene uncontaminated… for the most part.
“You done yet, princess?”
You purse your lips. If this was the first handful of times he used the pet name, you might have corrected him. It’s clear, at this point, that he doesn’t care to respect your wishes, so you elect to ignore him. Unfortunately, he seems to have a chip on his shoulder.
“Hey. You hear me?”
And you ponder to yourself, who the fuck do you think you are? because never, in your four years of being a forensic detective, have you dealt with a hero who acted like this.
You snap your head around to glare at him. When he greets you with a cocky grin — a very made you look expression — you want nothing more than to throw the victim’s keys at his face. Dynamight. You heard he helped save the world from All For One’s return, years ago, when the world was abandoning hope. You don’t doubt that his involvement is true, but surely his personality should have matured since then.
“Do I look done to you?” You ask rhetorically, latex gloves strapped to your elbows and vibrant eyes hidden behind thick lenses. “It’s only been half an hour.”
Bakugou’s grin widens upon getting a good look at you. You think he’s going to laugh. He’s seems like one of those jock types that still bullies because he never grew out of it. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t do anything of the sort. Instead, he sighs and walks over to you.
Normally, you would tell him to back away from the scene, but the words of caution catch in your throat. His sharp auburn eyes are boring into yours. There’s a spark on amusement dancing in the depths of his irises, though it’s the other emotion that catches your attention: curiosity. Perhaps this blunt hero has some semblance of professional focus, after all.
“Exactly. Half an hour. We could’ve gotten this shit done in five minutes.”
You roll your eyes. Forget what you thought. He just wants to go home. Well, if that’s the case, you can put him to work.
“Make yourself useful and hold this device for me.”
You shove the item into his hand. He grasps it instinctively. You don’t hear any complaints.
While you swab for a solid sample of the victim’s blood, he waits idly next to you, silently studying your process. He observes your craft with respect, knowing heroes can’t do their jobs as well without your role. His younger self — who so visibly struggled with disobeying any form of authority — might have roofed the device after it was forced upon him. He’ll hold onto it for you. At least it looks like you’re being thorough with the case.
But as the sequence goes on, he finds his gaze drifting to your features. He’s immune to a lot of things, but not pretty women.
You catch him when you finish your task. He’s swift to glance away. Oblivious to his fascination, you smirk.
“Didn’t know you were interested in forensics.”
He snorts.
“I ain’t. I’m interested in you.”
And he doesn’t miss how you bite your lips to stop yourself from smiling.
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Summary: It’s your turn to plan a second date. You choose to take him to the beach. As the sun sets and the tide shifts, so do your moods. You’re not the only one who thinks the temptation is torturous.
Note: This will probs be the final part to this series.
Adult!Bakugou x Forensic Detective!Reader
⚠️ mdni. fluff. katsuki is dominant. possessive behaviour. soft smut.
Previous l
You decide that your second date will be an evening at the beach. You pack a picnic for the two of you, merely telling him that he better arrive hungry. His reply to your demand draws a gasp from your lips.
Katsuki: for what
You bite your lower lip. You want to flirt back. Should you? Being reserved will let him know you’re serious about dating him. Responding too loose might give him the idea that you’re easy. You don’t want to raise his expectations.
You: you’ll see :)
It’s innocent enough.
You meet him at six o’clock. You’re late a few minutes and you hope he doesn’t think you’re standing him up. Imagine, a pro hero as big a deal as Dynamight, getting soft rejected by an ordinary detective. The fangirls would lose their minds.
You park your car and hastily hop out of the driver’s seat. You scurry into the back, grabbing your knapsack, before slamming all doors and locking up tight. Your legs move faster than you can register, and you almost trip. Fortunately, you manage to collect yourself before you make a mockery of yourself. There are other people lingering around the park, having barbecues with family members or enjoying a romantic evening with their love. The last thing you need is to have that humiliation haunting the back of your mind the entire time.
You hustle up the grassy hill. When you get to the top, you scan the sandy plains. You don’t see him. Perhaps he’s running late, too.
The thought crosses you that he might be the one to stand you up. At least if that happens, no one will know but you. The betrayal will be hard, but you know a thing or two about how to cope with heartbreak. Better now than three or six months down the line, right? As your negative self-talk begins to escalate, you’re glad when the sight of him placates you.
He isn’t on the beach. He’s beside it, atop a bluff overlooking the water. You wave at him as you approach. He sees you from a distance and flashes you a salute. Standing in place by the bench, he waits for you to make the entire trek. You call out to him when you draw closer.
“Hey!”
“Hey.”
He opens his arms for a hug. Although a little surprised at the gesture, you don’t hesitate to receive his warmth. He pulls you close to his chest and holds you there for a few seconds. Your eyes nearly flutter shut. His cologne smells like woodsmoke, driving your senses up the wall with intrigue. Everything about him is so inviting.
When he releases you, there’s a small smile on your face. You can’t stifle it.
“What’s up?” He prompts you.
“Nothing,” you reply sheepishly. “Just happy to see you.”
Being forward isn’t usually your jam, but with Katsuki, it’s simpler to be honest. He seems to be transparent with you. The least you can do is afford him a modicum of trust. It’s not like he’s done anything for you to question his intentions.
Suddenly, you feel his fingers grasp your chin. You perk up. He’s gazing at you with a soft expression.
“Me too.” He confesses. “Been countin’ down the days. My buddy kept teasin’ me about it.”
Gratitude possess your soul. He told his friends about you. That’s more evidence to denote that he’s serious about this — about you.
He keeps you suspended in his grasp for a few seconds longer. You lick your lips. The tension between you is tight. It’s time he fixes that.
“S’it too early t’ kiss you?”
You shakes your head. Normally, yes; for him, no.
He folds his mouth against yours. The kiss is strong and domineering. He mashes his lips against yours and controls your rhythm. You have no choice but to conform. He doesn’t afford you any option but to obey him. You can’t lie; it makes you rub your thighs together.
When he breaks contact, his chest is rising and falling ferociously, as though he’s holding himself back from moving further. You glance behind you. He follows your gaze. You spy people in the distance, shrouded by trees — that’s it. If he wanted to, he could make his way up your neck, pressing his tongue on your pulse and holding it there are your heart throbs. It’s a shame that he can’t do that yet; he doesn’t have that sort of rapport with you. He settles for staring into your hazy irises.
He brushes his thumb over your lips. You smile beneath the digit. It’s a gesture that causes his heart to leap.
“How the hell d’you always manage t’ look so fuckin’ beautiful?” He mutters, starstruck. “I’m a lucky man.”
Katsuki doesn’t recall the last time he was fascinated by a woman. If he had to guess, it was one of his first girlfriends; though, he suspects that was because of his novelty to love. You’re different. The brand of interest he has in getting to know you is anchored by physical and emotional attraction. It’s not the result of a unique encounter, as much as it’s rooted in how well he receives your compelling nature.
“I-it’s really nice out here!” You exclaim, too shy to continue engaging with his flirtation. “I almost didn’t spot you!”
The hero grunts. He can tell that you’re dismissive of your worth. Whether it’s a trait you developed at a young age or something that was instilled upon you, he doesn’t like it. He’ll have to work on getting you to accept his reality.
“Yeah,” he says, releasing you to rub the back of his neck. “Did’j’ya bring a jacket? Gonna get cold when night falls.”
You nod. You packed a sweater at the bottom of your bag. It’s sweet of him to worry about you.
“Cool. I brought one f’r ya anyway.”
Your heart lights up as you thank him. It’s nice to have someone else looking out for you. It conveys a strong ethic of care on his part.
You shrug off your knapsack and reveal your plan to him. He spies a large quilt and several containers of food. You must have spent all morning preparing this meal. He feels bad he didn’t know to contribute. Next time, he’ll have Rikido teach him how to bake your favourite dessert to perfection, and then present it to you when he masters the recipe. You deserve to be spoiled.
He expands the blanket and sets it on the grassy cliff. You place the Tupperware containers on the fabric, along with their respective utensils. Finally, he produces two plates from your bag. Meal prep is complete.
“This looks fuckin’ amazing.” Katsuki marvel. “Didn’t know you knew how t’ cook.”
You laugh. Whenever you worked with him, you either didn’t find the time to eat or ordered fast food. When your life gets busy, you resort to an unhealthier routine. It’s a bad habit you’re trying to kick.
“Hope you enjoy it!”
He digs in. You watch as he takes some of your meal and plops it into his mouth. He hums approvingly.
“Not bad, princess.”
You beam at him.
“Thanks!”
As you eat, you talk about the days in between seeing each other. Eventually, the conversations shifts to what you want in life — your career goals, your aspirations. He reflects on yours before stating his. You’re fond of his ambition. He mentions being a hothead in his youth. You can’t imagine him being worse than he is today, though he assures you he was. He tells you he used to bully his now best friend. It took him years to come around to the idea that Izuku cares about him, that they’re both worthy of each others’ friendship regardless of past mistakes.
When he finishes his story, he’s gazing out at the ocean. The sun is setting. The waves are getting heavier as they crash against the cliff side. Enchanted, you watch with him as the earth’s cycle alters the ocean’s pattern. He cups your hand as you sit, squeezing it briefly. He doesn’t get to enjoy living in the moment very often. You make him face the present in ways he didn’t think were possible. It feels fresh and fundamental.
When the last of the sun dips beneath the horizon, the silence is killing you. Perhaps it’s your full stomach and satisfaction talking, but you want more of him. You give him a quick kiss on the mouth. He blinks; then, he frowns.
“The fuck was that?”
You smirk.
“A kiss.”
“Nah.” He insists. “Not good enough.”
He snatches your wrist and pulls you close. You land on top of him. He leans back to give you room. You don’t dare mount him; it’s too early for that. Instead, you hover over his body, lips mere centimetres from his. It’s a staring contest.
His hand strokes the length of your back. A shiver courses through you. Your nails dig into his bicep as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs a fistful of your hair and keeps you rooted in place, deepening the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth with a thirst for unfamiliarity. You let him. He loves how you taste. He can’t get enough.
You moan when he parts from your mouth, chest heaving and head spinning. He’s abducted the air from your lungs. He gives you a moment to stabilize before diving in for more. This time, he pulls you on top of him. You’re nervous that you’ll be too uncomfortable, but he has no qualms about you straddling him.
You press your crotch down on his. He twitches beneath his jeans. You gasp naively, as though you didn’t believe your actions would have consequences. He wants you. Scarily enough, you’re starting to want him, too.
You grind on his package as you kiss him, permitting him to suck and bite your lips, swelling them to his liking. He wishes he could feel your mouth elsewhere, but he’s not so foolish as to suggest such a thing. This is more enough on a second date.
“Oh fuck, babe,” he growls. “Makin’ me so fuckin’ hard.”
He needs you to know how he’s feeling. His dick is hard and his thoughts are obscured. You have a right to understand the effect your body and mind have on him.
“I don’t wanna have sex,” you pant between his fierce onslaught of kisses. “Please, Katsuki.”
He isn’t pressed that he freaked you out. The teenage version of him, who couldn’t comprehend people, let alone women, would have lost his shit. He would have huffed and puffed and externalized his insecurity. Now, he sees past the confusion and accepts your plea for what it is — to see if he can provide safety.
“I won’t fuck you if you don’t want me to, princess.” He reassures you, looking you in the eye. “Y’hear me?”
You do — in more ways than one. You trust him to stop if you ask him to. He wants you to rely on him, and he’s trying to prove he’s a good man. You decide to accept his answer at face value.
“Y-yes.”
“Good. This okay?”
He lets you stroke yourself over his pants, occasionally glancing up to ensure no one is creeping. The last thing he wants is another scandal. Sure, you’re his woman — and he’s not ashamed of that — but he doesn’t want your debut to be a picture of you, soaked through your leggings, on display for all of Japan; moreover, something about others getting to witness you, in your rawest form, causes a bolt of fury to rise in his throat. He quells the impulsive anger and pours it into his movements. He helps you get off.
“Oh fuck,” you moan, gripping his bare shoulder with your nails. “Feels so fucking good.”
“Y’like this, sweetheart?” He croons, chuckling when he’s met with a desperate mewl. “Yeah, s’what I thought… keep goin’, baby.”
Vacantly, you ponder how this happened. First, you were enjoying a cute date together; now, you’re wordlessly begging for him in a deeply intimate way, praying he’ll lose control and just fucking slip it in.
But he doesn’t.
Dynamight doesn’t lose control.
You stop when you almost reach your peak. Rubbing your clothed clit along his erection beneath rugged fabric isn’t how you want to cum with him for the first time. Just like sex, you want it to be special. You can’t help but romanticize orgasms.
You yank yourself off him, breaking through his arm slung around your back. You feel him go limp, letting you rise. With his permission, you bolt upright, though don’t get off his lap. Your underwear is damp and you’re panting like a dog. You love how he made you feel. You sense a strong chemistry forming between the two of you — one you’re interested in exploring further. Before you dedicate to that aspiration, however, you have to make sure he’s on the same page.
“I don’t want this just to be sex,” you assert. “So if that’s what you’re looking for, we can’t go any further.”
You already feel yourself growing attached. You recognize the need to preserve yourself from the possibility of pain later. Expressing your needs has never come easy to you, but communication is the only way to make a relationship work.
Katsuki stares at you like you have two heads. He’s dumbfounded. He can’t fathom why you would think he isn’t interested in making you his woman. The only reason he hasn’t made a move yet is because he didn’t want to seem too eager. You’re an independent woman. You deserve to have the breathing room to do your own thing without pressure. But if you want to be tied down, he’s happy to seal the deal.
“You fuckin’ joking?” He growls. “Far as I’m concerned, you were my woman the second I laid eyes on your pretty ass.”
His hands spasm. An overwhelming urge to grab your asscheeks and rub your sweet pussy against his thick cock almost ruins his chances with you. He reigns himself in. He breathes a sigh of relief when you finally climb off him, sensing what your presence was doing to him. He can’t wait until he can do as he pleases with you — within reason, of course.
He sits up and dusts himself off. There’s only one thing on his mind. You can’t fault him; he’s merely a man and he can barely contain his budding lust for you. He’s learning to better admire you with each date. Besides, you make it easy when you wear outfits like that. It’s as though you know what turns him on.
“Interested in comin’ t’ my place next weekend?” The blonde asks boldly. “My shitty roommate’s goin’ away with his girl.”
“Sure.” You shrug. “Want me to bring anything?”
“Maybe an’ overnight bag.” He suggests casually. “If y’want.”
You do — and you will — but he doesn’t have to know that yet. You’re willing to trust him. If he betrays you, it’ll hurt. You’re not sure it’s a healthy relationship unless you’re both willing to make sacrifices and compromises, however; you hope he meets you halfway.
“I’ll text you when I get my work schedule.”
He isn’t phased by your dodge. He has a feeling you’ll show up to his place either a little duffel bag. Just in case, you’ll say adorably, and oh fuck, will he ever put you to work. He grins. Yeah. That thought’ll get him through the week.
“Sounds good.”
Together, you pack everything up. Lids are slapped onto Tupperware containers, and ziplock bags are secured. The quilt is scooped up and folded. When it’s all put away, you dust yourself off and get to your feet. Katsuki follows suit. It’s dark out now. Finding your way back might be a bit harder than anticipated. Fortunately, you have him to protect you. As if on cue, he slips an arm around your waist.
“Ready?” He asks.
You notice he has your knapsack slung lazily over your shoulder. You grab one of his idle hands and nod. You wish you could remain here forever, locked in this moment with him; it’s unfortunate that you have to leave. Mentally, you snap a photo of this moment.
“Let’s go.”
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