Thinking About Virgin!inosuke That Doesn’t Understand His Feelings Towards You And Is Kind Of Shy About

DIE FOR YOU (8.2K)

— viking bakugou katsuki x reader

synopsis: your fiancé, chief of the strongest village, doesn’t believe you can protect yourself so when returns from a raid, he makes you prove him wrong.

warnings: 18+ content, minors don’t interact, ageless blogs don’t interact, female reader, referred to: (princess, baby, my lady), arranged marriage, lovey dovey, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, fingering (f), p to v, pull out method, chief kink lol, whole load of kissing, big three: (angst, fluff, smut), arguing, separately they physically wrestle lol, mention of blood, beard bakugou, yn is a girl boss.

notes: PART THREE TO FOR YOU MY VIKING BKG SERIES! can be read as a standalone! this is another big boy so if there’s typos don’t look at me.

life with your new fiancé has improved dramatically since you told him everything you hated about it.

mornings are filled with your feet in the lake, face filled with pastry as you kiss the sugar off katsuki’s lips. evenings include you eventually shifting from your seat at the dinner and ending up in his lap at the head of the table, licking your thumb to remove a scrub of dirt on his skin as he stuffs a spoon of food in your mouth.

the days are much longer too now, filled with books, new friends and helping out the people in the village. some days you’ll find yourself helping a family bake for their youngest’s birthday or chatting with an old man at the river. your favourite times are randomly turning up wherever katsuki is. 

this time they’re in the basement of your home, planning the next raid in a town far over. the mood is nothing but vulgar and violent, with drawings across a half-torn map, knives stabbed in the wooden table, and candlelight helping their vision. all the men are so large, furs at their necks from an animal they recently killed with laughs that rock their whole bodies. you only see him though, slouching in his seat, sighing at his army’s rambunctiousness and raking a hand through his blonde hair.

he meets your eyes from across the room as soon as you open the door. you think it’s mostly his sharp instincts but you like to think it’s mostly because it’s you. katsuki quickly sits up straighter, wiping his mouth in case there are any stray crumbs and opens his arms out to you. he makes your heart sing, your head lightweight as you make your way over to him. 

“uh oh, it’s lady bakugou!”

your fiancé always curses his army and even more the closest ones out of the bunch. these four barely listen, they’re too loud and excited over nothing. but to you, they’re all quite cute despite their rather beastly demeanour. you know them by name now and they only refer to you as my lady or lady bakugou. you’ve said they could call you by your first name and while they say they will, you think katsuki is telling them otherwise.

you cover your mouth at the newfound attention, the whole room cheering at your arrival and laughter erupts from you. especially with how bakugou glares at his men but when he lands back on you, his eyes shine with pride.

“you look beautiful today, my lady!” deku, or izuku says. deku is what your fiancé calls him.

“i hope you bring up the chief's spirits, he’s being a pain tonight,” kirishima chuckles and he’s the only one who could get away with saying that about katsuki.

“thank you for the cream you made for me! it doing great for my scars!” kaminari smiles, the womaniser of the group.

you even get a small wave from todoroki, who’s much calmer and always so stunning. katsuki says he only seems calmer because everyone else is so loud, he’s just as crazy as the rest of them. 

you send your smiles and nods, replying to each comment and noticing how none of them touch you.

lastly, you’re back on katsuki who yanks you in his arms right when you’re in his vicinity. he speaks right into your ear and tingles trickle down your spine, “i told you not to come down here, baby.”

baby is a new pet name he now calls you since you cooed at how kirishima called his new wife that. 

“gorgeous,” you moan. gorgeous is your new pet name for him because he is exactly that. he used to frown at the word, adamant at how he isn’t anything like that. that word should be reserved for you. but you kept with it and annoyingly, his head turns every time you say it. 

“i don’t like you hearin’ this shit,” he’s firm, hands at your hips as you stand between his legs, peering down at him.

you roll your eyes, “you do realise i’ve heard this shit since i was a child back home, right? none of this is a surprise.”

“i don’t give a fuck. if you don’t need to hear it, then you’re not,” he slaps your ass as if to get you moving but you stay still between his legs, your face turning into stone.

you’re about to snap back at him, ready to dispute everything he said when kirishima speaks up from behind you.

“oh yn! momo told me about what happened a few days ago? are you alright?”

you turn your head in slow motion, your already furrowed eyebrows hardening with a glare that could kill. kirishima stills looking between your anger and bakugou’s confusion.

you begin, “oh erm—,”

“what the fuck happened a few days ago?”

the room simmers to silence, bakugou’s hands on your hips burning through your clothes and into your skin. all his men are on edge, darting between every face and avoiding you and your fiancé. kirishima is bright red, filled with regret.

you put on a face of nonchalance, crossing your arms across your chest, “nothing.”

bakugou exhales roughly, pinching the bridge of his nose in impatience, “fuck that, tell me what happened. why’s he askin’ if you’re okay?”

“i said it’s nothing, katsuki!” your arms shake in the air in exasperation, trying to get out of his grasp but he holds on tight.

“yn look at me. you’re gonna tell me or he is. who do you want me to hear it from?” he bites, ruby eyes glowing and staring down your soul. he looks like everything a chief should look like. fur around his shoulders, his bare chest showing underneath, ropes and ropes of jewellery around his neck. thick hoop earrings litter his lobes, shining in the candlelight. he doesn’t intimidate you, all the wealth and strength he breathes. especially since half of it is yours now.

you growl, shaking out of his grip and to your surprise he lets go of you, “momo and i went out to the neighbouring village and this man cornered me. he said stuff about you, but it’s fine i kicked him off me and momo and i came back here.”

bakugou blinks. his jaw close to locking as he studies your body like it’s something he should have known just by looking at you. how the fuck did this not get back to him? why didn’t you tell him? were you not as close as he thought?

his heart races in his chest, questions flooding his brain. he looks to kirishima who nods slowly, confirming his thoughts and then his gaze snaps back to you.

“this was two days ago? the day you brought me back flowers?”

you grit your teeth, folding your arms against your chest and looking away defensively, “yes.”

“did he fuckin’ touch you?” he spits and you refuse to look at your fiancé. “kirishima!” he barks and you shy away from the volume.

the redhead sits up straight, scratching his head, “uh, yes chief, my wife said the guy had his forearm on my lady’s neck.”

“he wasn’t even there!”

“is that true?” he sounds steady, flaming anger under his words. he looks much calmer than your uncontrolled annoyance though you can tell exactly how he feels. so much rage that he can only stay this unsettling calm. you don’t know what else to do but nod.

“but i fought him off me!”

bakugou ignores that, “why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“because you act like this! you don’t think i can’t fight for myself!”

“i’m actin’ like this ‘cause you lied to me,” the realisation hurts, burns. 

“i never lied—,” 

bakugou leans in to your face, the sweet lover you know in your mornings and evenings gone. 

“and i’m actin’ like this because you shouldn’t be fightin’ anyone and nobody should be touchin’ you!”

you push him out your face by his shoulders and the whole table freezes at the contact. you climb out from between his legs, “oh fuck off, bakugou! you don’t know anything about me and what i can do!”

you storm out of the room, your dress blowing behind you with the speed as you slam the door shut. everyone can hear your footsteps rushing up the steps into the main house.

the silence is deadly in the room, bakugou resting his chin in his palm deep in thought and boiling anger.

“wives, am i right?”

“shut up, kaminari.”

“sorry chief, i thought you knew—,”

bakugou rises to his feet, leaning over the table, “fuck the old plan, we’re changin’ the raid.”

you don’t come to dinner which bakugou expected though he can’t deny how his vexation fizzles out at the sight of your bedroom door closed and is replaced with sadness. you’ve been sleeping in his room since the first night you spent together and somehow it feels as if you’ve both gone backwards. 

he’s not apologising, he’s still furious that you didn’t tell him that someone tried to hurt you. how the fuck is he supposed to be a good husband if you don’t tell him shit?

he knocks his hand on the door, exhaustion from the evening finally seeping into his bones. he leans his forehead onto the wood, “baby, it’s me. lemme talk to you.”

his men would be shocked at how he’s acting right now, that there isn’t a grudge towards you as he has for so many people. bakugou’s fury can last lifetimes, he isn’t one to forgive and forget. but right now with you, he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms again.

katsuki knocks again. “baby, open up,” then he pauses, this time pressing his ear to the door, “are you even fuckin’—,” 

his hand goes to the handle, swinging the door to find out you’re nowhere to be seen. he doesn’t know if it’s hope or worry that shakes him first. bakugou stomps down the corridor into his room and you aren’t there either.

“where the fuck did you go?” he speaks to the open air before running down to the lower floors.

“sophie! have you seen my wife? where is she?” he barks but sophie, his head housemaid, doesn’t jump. instead, her green eyes soften with empathy and worry.

“chief, i have not seen her? is my lady missing?”

he doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t know where you are, or the worst, that you’re missing or you left him. who knows what his enemies will do with that information?

“no she’s… fuck,” he rubs a rough hand down his face, “she’s not missin’ but if you see my wife tell me immediately.”

bakugou doesn’t catch sophie’s response, rushing out to the back of his home. where would you go? he flings his head up to the midnight sky like it would give him answers but the sound of the wind brushing through the leaves only makes him think of how he could have made your last conversation smoother. 

bakugou kicks a rock, “fuck!” glancing up from his boot to his lake hidden within greenery and trees, the one he bathes in. “if you’re not there, may god help me.”

at this point, you’re all out of tears. you’re not even sure what you’re crying about, to be honest, maybe everything. you don’t want to be treated like a helpless little dear, unable to do anything herself, hidden away from the intricacies of the world. you don’t think he should be the one to decide what you can and can’t see either.

you hug your knees to your chest before dropping them in a crossed leg position to take your hand through the lake. it always brings you peace to be out here, the beats of the crickets and the faint hoots of owls. even knowing daisy, your fiancé's horse isn’t too far away. though worst of all, it reminds you of him and all the kisses you’ve shared in this exact position, your feet dipped in the water.

you sniff into your hand, then not even bothering to feel alarmed at the footsteps behind you. you know all the exits where someone can find this lake and you know the pattern of the steps.

“there you are. i went fuckin’ crazy back there.”

you don’t bother to turn around, staring at how the moonlight reflects off the water.

you feel him sit beside you, the same as you did in the morning when you ate breakfast. just his proximity makes you feel warmer like it’s instinctive to wrap your arms around his neck in a cuddle. you don’t though, just like he expected so he sighs.

“i’m not apologisin’ to you, i meant what i said,” he states, glancing at your side profile before staring back at the lake. he crosses his legs beside you too.

“if your mind’s already made up then why did you look for me? go back inside.” 

bakugou grunts, you have a tight grip on his heart because he doesn’t know anyone else who talks to him like you do. he craves it.

he decides to lie back on the grass, opting to look at the sky.

“i can’t be a good husband if—,”

“if i don’t talk to you,” you whisper and bakugou hums softly.

“yeah, baby. so talk to me.” it’s almost pleading, to hear the thoughts rattling through your head.

“you treat me like a princess who you can just lock away in a castle. nice for you to look at and touch but i can’t do anything else,” you lay back in the grass, studying the stars, “i am a chief’s daughter, the same way you’re a chief’s son. i grew up learning the same things as you.”

you let your words hang in the air and bakugou crosses his arms across his chest. 

“okay, i’m protective over you. i don’t want you dyin’ when i can just keep you safe instead.”

you let out an annoyed sigh, “you’re not listening to me. i can fight and plan raids too. i’ve been on raids since i was a teen. i don’t need protection to get a man off me when i go visiting villages. you’re going to be my husband, not my prison guard.”

bakugou knows he knows these things. you’ve mentioned bits on how you can fight, he’s seen your aim when you throw knives that day you were showing kirishima and deku. he knows you’re not ignorant to what happens on raids, the murders, the stealing, the brutality. though he guesses he never connected that part of his life to you, the most beautiful person he knows.

“i know that, i get you’ve never been sheltered. still doesn’t mean i want you around that shit,” he turns his head to stare you down, “it also doesn’t mean you should be lyin’ to me. if people are hurtin’ you because of me, it hurts me too.”

“then the issue isn’t me! it’s you, they hurt your pride by hurting your possession!”

“you’re not my fuckin’ possession! anyone who hurts you, hurts me and should pay—,”

you begin to sit up at the same time bakugou reaches out to you. you're too emotional, angry and you don’t have time to perceive the hand as anything close to caring. you snatch his wrist with speed, twisting it so if he moves pain will shoot down his forearm.

he stops mid sentence, staring up at you with pent up fire behind his eyes. you stare back with warning yet surprised at yourself for reacting so quickly.

you hold his wrist tight and even though he can use his other hand to pull you off him or even his legs, he doesn’t. you both narrow your eyes at each other. he knows he’s ruined because he finds your lips first to stare at, then how your chest heaves and the soft curve of your breasts under your dress. katsuki forgets about his wrist in your grasp until he tries to touch you again.

“fuck, who taught you this?” he winces and to his luck, you let go.

“my father.” you snap, tearing away from the beauty of your lover. he’s got his engagement ring on a silver chain around his neck instead of his finger and it’s something you find yourself staring at. your possession over him.

then you sigh, “fine, i should have told you but you can’t blame me for not. i’m not a precious little thing that can’t defend herself. i can.”

he hates going back on his word though he will for you, “you’re precious to me.”

you roll your eyes, ignoring the warmth that spreads around you, “katsuki.”

he huffs a small laugh, “i get it. i’m underestimatin’ you and i know you’re strong. you’re stronger than me in so many ways.”

you want to smooth the two lines between his brows with your thumb, kiss the stubble on his face. “and?”

“i’ll stop sayin’ you can’t be around the boys when we talk about raidin’ and other shit,” though you notice the frown deepen when he says it, “i will be getting revenge on those that hurt you though because they deserve to feel the fuckin’ pain. you’d do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

you don’t turn away from his gaze, you nod, “yes i will.”

“the first agreement of the night.”

you exhale, “the difference is you wouldn’t want me to though. you’d think i’d get killed.”

bakugou grunts, “we’re goin’ in circles, princess.”

you rise to your feet, calling it a night, “i can trust you will come back alive, that you’re good at what you do and you’re strong. you don’t think i’m strong enough to even hear about what goes on let alone believe i can be apart of it. that’s the difference.”

“princess, don’t walk away,” katsuki sits up, but you’re already off.

you ignore him, making your way towards the main house.

“i’m out tomorrow, i’ll be back in a few days,” he blurts, referring to the raid he’s been planning in the opposite village.

you always spend the night together when you know he’s not coming back soon. you have enough faith to know he will always come back so it’s mostly messy, ego-boosting sex about all the shit he wants to impress you with. you’ll miss him tremendously and you know you will even more this time round without it.

you continue your route indoors, running straight up the stairs and into your room.

bakugou holds his head in his hands before letting out a roar of anger. “fuck!” after spending so much time together, he has so much to learn about you and so much to change about himself.

it’s late by the time katsuki makes it indoors, pausing at your door before turning away. by the time you wake up, you’re told he’s already set out for the raid.

usually, the duration of raids depends on how long they need to travel for. sometimes it can be done in an evening and most often it’s three days long. the first and third days are for travelling and prep and the second for the raid itself. the previous couple of times, katsuki loved to kiss in your ear, that he’ll be as quick as possible and how being away from you causes more pain than a stab wound ever could.

it’s been five days now and your fiancé isn’t back. villagers keep asking you when is he returning or when is their husband who went off in bakugou’s army is coming back. maids keep staring at you in worry when you opt to eat dinner alone by the lake. your friends keep you company and so does the library but despite it all, you miss your husband terribly.

you know he will return, you know he’s strong enough to destroy anything in his way though it doesn’t mean you want him out somewhere hurt. you’d much rather have him in your arms, head on your chest as he begs for you to read something to him.

what does piss you off the most though, is how he never said goodbye. that annoyance is enough for you to know he has to return unscathed so that you can push him around for doing that to you.

“y’still mad at me, princess?”

you’re in the kitchen after dinner in one of your comfy dresses and a head in the clouds. after many pleas that you could wash your own plate and cutlery, the maids and servants finally left you alone. the feeling of the cool water on your hands and staring out at the dark sky through the window somehow soothes your worrying thoughts. 

however the familiar voice behind you brings your daydreams to life, a sharp scream bursting out of you. you spin around and clutch the bucket you were using behind you. your heart races as you lock eyes, his usual bright ruby pupils dimmer. he’s got a tired, almost deluded grin on his messy beaded face. a fresh cut slashes through his eyebrow and his right cheekbone, causing your hand to fly to your face in a gasp. he’s filthy, dirt across his skin and his clothes are in tatters. his black cloak that he usually wears is nowhere to be seen, instead, his trousers are torn across the thighs with cuts at his black tunic over his arms and chest. 

bakugou takes one step towards you and there’s no control over your body when you run up into his arms. no care for the dirt and blood that coats him either. bakugou’s arms circle you, his nose breathing in the lavender scent of your hair.

“i’ll take that as a no?”

he’s warm, familiar and your heart feels like it’s mending just from his presence. until you realise what he said and you rip away from him with all your force. you’re arm's length away, giving him a deep frown.

“yes, i am mad at you! y-you can’t leave without saying goodbye to me!”

your fiancé seems to be all over the place, only half registering your words. you notice how there’s no limp in his step and his belt where he usually carries his weapons is still full though stained. stained with blood but the sight doesn’t sway you.

bakugou chuckles deep like his throat is dry then grabs your throat to slam his lips to yours. you accept it, letting him drink you in like you can cure his thirst.

katsuki moans, his arm curling above your ass to hold you close. you curve into his body, relaxing you after so many days on edge.

he parts for a breather but keeps his mouth over yours. you’re exchanging breaths back and forth, “holy fuck, i missed that. i missed you, princess.” 

you’re sure he’s getting blood and dirt on you but it doesn’t bother you. 

you nip down on his bottom lip, feeling him flinch in your arms before his mouth curves into a smile.

“fuck you for taking so long to return home too,” you snip, your arms linking around his neck. 

he doesn’t smell great, he smells like five days away from home with odd baths, grime and metallic bite of blood. you feel insane for the hot burn washing down your body at him being away for so long unexpectedly and finally appearing before you.

“i’m sorry baby, had some issues along the way,” he mumbles, pressing kiss upon kiss to your lips. they're quick pecks and he’s half amused by your neediness. there was a large part of bakugou expecting this to go the wrong way. you storming off from him again, continuing your argument from before. he loves the heat in your eyes, it’s what he needed after being away from you for literal days, the confusion between whether it’s lust or anger.

“i missed you too. hated not knowing,” you whisper, jumping up so he can catch you, your legs wrapping around your waist.

bakugou pushes you against the kitchen wall, ignoring the clangs of the bowls and pans and his nose stroking up your neck, “knowin’ what? you didn’t think i’d come home for you? can’t fuckin’ live without you, ‘course i’m comin’ back.”

your breaths are shaky as he ruts his hips against you, five days without him have been unsatisfying on top of the fear. you whine, lips parted as you take him in for another kiss. bakugou sucks your tongue hard, lifting you higher by the ass.

“i knew you’d come back to me. i didn’t like n-not knowing that you could be out there…,” a whine dribbles out of you as he opts to bruise your neck with nibbles of his teeth, “h-hurt.”

his hands roam your body, sneaking under your dress to feel your waist, the trim of your underwear and your soft breasts. katsuki groans into your neck like a beast, rolling his hips into you, “you care about me princess?”

you tap bakugou’s cheek, not hard enough to hurt but enough to wake him up out of his lust filled reverie.

“of course, i care about you,” you say, your tone softer than expected. 

bakugou’s shoulders drop, tension releasing from his body. he didn’t know he needed that to come from you, despite all the rabid need in the room.

katsuki sighs, a grubby hand holding your chin and he presses a kiss to your lips, before slotting his tongue against yours. you feel heavenly, you are heaven against him, especially after experiencing hell these past few days. you don’t care how he’s come back. it’s his first time stupidly thinking about his appearance and how you’d view him looking so vulgar, but from the way you’re trying to feel every part of him, he knows you don’t care.

“i care about you too,” his thumbs press into your soft stomach and your chin lifts when kisses land at your jaw, “i did so much thinkin’.”

you hum in reply, pulling his tunic up so he can drag it over his head. you feel every part of his chest, the smooth dips and curves. you’re breathless, “about what?”

“you,” he rumbles, katsuki’s hand moving to rub your clit over your underwear. there’s not much pressure with the fabric in between but it makes you weaken all the same, “how i sounded like i didn’t believe in you.”

you can barely remember your last conversation before this now that you have your legs wrapped around katsuki’s bare waist. he licks a stripe up your neck, his thumb rubbing slow circles just where you need. 

“what?”

“i do believe you, princess,” his voice is honey in your ears and you’re burning up so fast you can barely register what he says next, “but i want you to show me.”

bakugou puts you down on your feet slowly, and you’re holding him close to you so he doesn’t leave you again.

“what? what are you doing, katsuki?”

he pulls your arms from around his neck and gracefully the skirt to your dress falls. you’re beautiful, he cannot put into words how five days apart felt. the white of your dress has splotches of blood and dirt from him and it only riles him up more. nevertheless, he keeps to the plan.

bakugou rubs under his nose, “last time we were together, you said you could fight, you could protect yourself and that we were brought up the same. i don’t need to be so protective.” a calloused hand rubs against your cheek before stepping away, leaving you all flustered and flushed. 

“i’m always gonna be protective over you but i want you to show me that you can protect yourself.”

you blink at the man who stands completely serious before you.

“what are you asking me to do?” you cannot quell the heat in your stomach, how raw and masculine he looks before you. bakugou looks even bigger than he did when he left, with a new scar on his left pectoral, and bruising under his right rib. you notice no wounds apart from the open one on his eyebrow. there’s only one small candle by the bucket where you were cleaning and aside from that it’s the moonlight shining through. it makes him look gorgeous, white light on the left side of him, the other side in the shadows. the knives at his waist shine beautifully, multiple different shapes and sizes. you’d much rather fuck him than play this game.

“fight me, baby, take me down,” he says, expression ready for anything.

you frown, “really? but you’re already injured and sore.” your voice is featherlight, your hand coming up to touch his abdomen though bakugou snatches it before you can touch.

“just wanna see what you can do.”

now your eyebrows rise, “oh, you’re so confident i can’t do it that you’re offering yourself injured?”

there’s a cocky rise to his left cheek and a shrug, “you show me, princess.”

bakugou knows how to get you going in more ways than one, tilting his head to watch your pupils roam his body, thoughts going at a million miles.

does he really think you won’t be able to take him down? judging by the smirk on his cheeks and the way he scratches his head, leaving all the blades hanging by his waist free suggests so. 

you lift off the wall, “don’t go easy on me, chief.”

before bakugou has a chance to reply, you use the one thing you have over opponents who are clearly stronger than you, speed. it’s easy for you to manoeuvre around bakugou while he’s off guard, spinning around to him to harshly kick behind his knee. you’re sure to only kick one, leaving his large body to stumble awkwardly to the ground. a loud boom resonates throughout the house at the weight of his body. 

bakugou grunts beneath you and you’re thinking of him in parts. his arms, his legs, his hands. what can go where and how you can stop them. you’re next to kick him in the back, so his chest is on the ground, his cheek on the wooden floor. you rest a foot in the centre of his back, leaning all your body weight to keep him down as you reach to grab his arms to keep them behind his back.

however, your half injured chief of a fiancé is better than that, grabbing at your ankle and spinning around to lay on his back. you’re off balance as he chuckles, “speedy, are you?”

he’s got your foot but you’ve still got your arms. you hold onto his forearm that has you, twisting your hands against his skin in a burn and stomping on his bicep to let you go.

he does release you, not before locking your body around his thighs and with his hips, he thrusts you forward to lay on top of his body.

you’re out of breath, breathing warm and heavy over your fiancé’s face. you’re trapped between his thighs, and he grabs at your wrist.

“you’re beautiful, you know that?” he grins and it only makes you furious.

he’s flushed, bruised and bloody beneath you, plump lips you’d love to kiss and his hair is a complete mess. there’s a slight shine to him with the dirt and the sweat that’s stuck to his body for hours.

you growl, “i can knee you in your balls right now which will make you release your legs. don’t forget you left your waist open this whole time so i can grab a knife and stab you in your throat.”

you even unsheath a knife from his holder with your free hand, resting it on his throat, “flip me around and it goes right below your adam's apple with your own body weight as a force.”

your words are ragged and you notice bakugou’s eyes flick from each body part you mention. how honestly, right now, you’ve got the upper hand.

“does this turn you on, chief?” you tilt your head, eyes wild even though he’s got you pressed firmly against him andhe’s holding your arm at an awkward angle. you’ve still got the knife in your hand that could go through his throat. you try to move your hips in his tight lock around his meaty thighs but you can’t. instead, his grip presses his hard cock further into your stomach.

bakugou grins, “sorta. actually yeah, i think so.”

you roll your eyes, despite the red hot coil burning in your lower stomach. you know that if he flipped your dress up, he’d find your underwear completely damp. 

“you’re also covered in me,” he notes, biting down on his lip at the dirt and blood that streaks your dress, all clean before he came in. you bite back a sigh at the animalistic feelings of this all. the roughhousing, the proof that you could kill the chief of the most powerful village and how bakugou stares back at you with nothing but arousal and pride.

with the arm he’s using to hold yours, you twist your elbow over his to pull out of his grip. you use your free arm to rest your weight on his shoulder. 

“believe me now? i could have killed you three times over,” you say, your voice pitching lower by the end and you don’t mean to stare at his mouth but you do.

“i do, princess,” bakugou murmurs, tone so deeply honest, your eyes widening and your grip loosening on the knife you’re still holding. “shoulda believed it before but i guess i needed to see it in action. what did you do to that guy that attacked you?”

“he had his arm on my throat so i just elbowed his arm out and kicked his chest,”

“right in the centre? it still had bruisin’ four days after fuckin’ idiot,” bakugou spits and you frown down at him, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“how do you know?”

“that was the village we went to raid,” he smirks, then finds your chin to pull you for a kiss, it has you chasing after his lips for more, “got you some pretty shit. they had lots of rubies there.”

“i thought you were going to—,”

“changed my mind.”

“did you kill him to protect your pride?”

“did it to protect yours,” he nips at your bottom lip, “you bruised him, i get to kill him.”

you laugh into his mouth, throwing the knife to the side and caressing katsuki’s cheek as your kiss only becomes deeper.

“did it all for you,” he mumbles, swiping his tongue against yours messily, “we took so long ‘cause i had to kill them all… all his fuckin’ men.”

your fiancé makes you needy, feral. your brain is cotton as you haphazardly tug at his trousers but bakugou’s too engrossed in your mouth to shuffle to pull them off. though the grip on his thighs loosens, and he joins in shoving the fabric of your dress up to your waist so you can hump his cock.

“t-thank you,” you moan into his mouth, hand roaming across the light dust of dark blonde hair over his chest. together, you’re burning electricity, sparks setting off whenever you touch. 

“don’t fuckin’ thank me,” he snaps, rolling over and bringing you with him so your back is against the ground.

he is gorgeous above you and you’re so close his new thick fuzz of facial hair tickles your cheeks. much thicker than you’ve ever seen it. you take note of the new scars that are about to form on his face and the ones that are halfway to healing on his chest.

you brush your fingertips over his abdomen, “i hope i didn’t hurt you too much.”

bakugou grunts, rubbing his clothed cock against your clit beneath your underwear. the contact has your eyes fluttering to shut, your hips tilting towards him.

“it hurt more when you never told me what happened to you that day,” he digs his teeth into your neck, then sucks softly to soothe the pain, “how am i supposed to be a good husband if—,”

“i know, i know,” you whine and now it’s your turn to lock your legs around his waist keeping him with you in case he even thinks of leaving. you’re not sure where the build up of emotions comes from, perhaps the lack of sleep without him by your side, the silent goodbye, the anger mixed with glee at his return. tears well up on your waterline though they don’t fall, “i’m sorry, katsuki.”

he’s quick to notice the change in tone, darting up from his attack on your neck to your pouting face. 

“no, don’t fuckin’ cry,” he coos and you keep the fact that you have the chief cooing and consoling you deep in your back pocket. he kisses your lips softly, his hips rocking sweetly against your clit, “i’m sorry too. baby, no tears for me, yeah?”

“i missed you so much and i-i felt so bad since our last conversation was an argument—,” 

he shuts you down with another kiss, “princess, an argument isn’t gonna keep me away from you. i thought i’d come home to an angry wife, you had me fuckin’ nervous.”

you laugh as his massive calloused thumbs wipe away the tears, “i was angry.”

“you’re not now?”

“no.”

“that’s good.”

then to your hell, he pulls away from you but not too far, just sinks further down your body. your breath hitches in anticipation. you even forget momentarily you both are still on the floor in the kitchen, though you guess it makes sense with the way he’s about to eat you.

bakugou’s large palms rub over your thighs like a massage. thumbs kneading the skin like dough, before he pushes your knees to your face. you note how he licks across his bottom lip as he stares between your legs. you’re not sure if he can see the damp between your legs with the poor lighting. you’re sure he’d laugh at you if he could. “thought about the taste of you every fuckin’ day i was away from you, princess. every fuckin’ day.”

the rumble of words set you on fire, “thought about you too.”

a single eyebrow rises, “you touch her?”

he feels for your underwear, pulling it off under your ass and over your legs. bakugou groans at just the smell of you, aroused and waiting for him. 

“yes,” you breathe and a thumb flicks over your clit. to finally be touched feels glorious, you never realise how attached you get to his touch until he leaves. he presses your thighs so your knees are at your ears and the burn of the stretch is welcome. “thought of how you would do it.”

“did you come too?” he’s transfixed between your legs, laying flat on his chest to bring his face closer and you can no longer see him over the fabric of your dress. your whole body withers in excitement, the thought of having his mouth on you again, the lewdness of having your legs open and exposed.

you arch your back for more of anything, “yes, chief.” 

bakugou darts his eyes up to the mountain of fabric on your chest. he can only see your breasts rising and falling. fuck, he’s lucky. he’s also not stupid, he’s aware of this little chief thing you’ve got for him. why not indulge? he’s been away for so long, you had to take care of your pretty pussy all on your own. he should be face first on you all night in apology.

“keep callin’ me that. anythin’ else and you’re not comin’.” he kitten licks your clit and you mewl delightedly, your hand brushing through his hair.

“yes,” you squeak and you twitch when he bites your thigh lightly, “yes chief.”

bakugou starts with pure skill and technique. licking a stripe from your asshole to your clit before swallowing all the goodness. “fuck, aren’t you the prettiest?” he groans, spreading your lips apart with two fingers and resting his hand on the hair at your mound. he sucks harshly on your clit and your whole body rumbles, “aren’t you?”

“oh fuck—, yes chief, i am,” you tremble, rocking your hips against his face. if you could see him right now, you know his face would be wet from you, especially from the way you feel him moaning as he eats. 

he focuses on your clit with his tongue, brushing around the bud in circles and adoring how you keep mumbling nonsense every few seconds. there’s no warning when he takes two fingers and thrusts them into you.

“c-chief, oh my… fuck, kats—,” you pour out and as soon as you slip up, his tongue comes off you. he does keep his fingers inside you but they’re not moving. you pulse around him, beginning for a release and he knows, he can feel it.

“not my name, princess. get it right and you get to come all over me,” he rests up on his arm to see you fully. only now, does bakugou fully understand what he was missing not being able to see your face over your dress. you can say the same thing to him too. “i was willin’ to die out there for you. all the anger i felt… so fuckin’ mad at the way he touched you.”

“you’re all—,” you begin, but the tips of his fingers begin to stroke against your walls. bakugou laughs at how easily you succumb to him, your arms reaching out to his face. he leans in close to you, always finding it hard to say no. you pout your lips at him, and his fingers curl inside of you, “i’d die for you too, chief.”

bakugou shakes his head, a crazed grin on his face. he loves you saying that to him, it sends a wild thrill down his spine that you’d put yourself on the line for him. but he doesn’t need that from you. “you won’t needa do that princess. i’ll be here for you.”

you know your fiancé is one for confessions during sex. dramatic ones that rack your brain and have you thinking about the words for days after until you corner him at dinner about them. he’ll confirm them again completely sober.

there’s no question, when you bring him in for a kiss. bakugou’s fingers piston inside of you, the same speed when he fucks you after a long day. you’re moaning into his mouth, holding him with strength he didn’t know you to have. you only pull away because you’re unable to focus on two things at once. your back begins to arch and your clothed breasts press against his bare chest.

“y-you taste like me,” you whine and all of a sudden you grab his wrist between your legs. he stops his hand out of confusion and frowns over at you.

“what’s wrong princess?”

“wanna come with you inside me, your cock,” you whisper, lust laced through your words. 

bakugou nods like there’s a spell over him, dragging his hand out of you and roughly pulling down his trousers. his cock springs out, slapping against his bare chest and you sigh longingly.

“it’s okay, baby, you’ll be gettin’ him,” it’s not long at all for bakugou to grip his cock and tap it against your clit. he grins at how you twitch, locking your arms around your knees to hold them up. “you’re so good for me aren't you, princess?”

“i’d be better if you fucked me,” you barely manage to voice and bakugou huffs a laugh.

“say it again politely,” and he teases you, his tip dipping into your hole. a cute “oh” passes your lips at the sensation. “baby.”

“i’ll be good if you fuck me, chief. please,” you plead, biting your lip as you stare up at him.

bakugou groans loud enough to wake up everyone in the village. being with you, like this, feels like religion. willing to give up everything to please and honour you. he can’t think of anything else he’d rather do than to see you satisfied because of him. 

“yes baby,” he whispers as if in a trance and he’s tending to you quickly, holding his cock at the base and slowly pushing inside of you.

it feels as if all the tension in your body releases at the feel of him. up in the clouds with your fiancé with his thickness stuffed within your walls. you exhale blissfully, closing your eyes as you keep your thighs in place. the angle is delightful, quenching your thirst slightly.

bakugou balances on a palm by your head, his other hand palming at your clothed breast. he’s missed you more than he could describe, but knowing this raid was for you made everything worthwhile.

“oh you make me feel, oh,” you try but bakugou begins to slide in and out creating a rhythm that has your heart beating out your chest. he’s slick and smooth with your wetness and the pat pat of your bodies only makes you wetter.

“like what, princess?” he manages, squeezing your breast to make you open your eyes.

“amazing, chief,” you smile at him and it’s a smile he’s never seen before. it’s round eyes, a layer of sweat giving you a shine, and a toothy grin. he can tell you’re not all here on the earth but you’re in the same place as him.

he kisses roughly at your jaw and you laugh at the feeling of his new beard against you, “want you to come with me, yeah?”

he punctuates his question with quicker jolts of his hips. each only pressing against your softest parts causing your back to arch. you’re so close, the heat in your stomach burning up that you’re sure you’re marking your thighs by holding so tight.

“c-chief, katsuki, i’m about to—,” 

“all for me. come on,” he whispers in your ear and he sees how you get enveloped by your pleasure. it washes over you, your fingertips tense, your mouth parted to whine. you even push back onto him, the hot fuzzy sensation reaching your toes.

it’s not too long before bakugou has to regretfully slide out of you when it gets too much. he pumps thrice, coming all over your dress with a groan that’s on the edge of pain. 

“motherfucker, fuck,” he mumbles before laying beside you on the floor of the kitchen.

you’re both lumps of heaving, sweaty bodies and like always, his hand finds yours and he plops it on his heart.

“can’t believe you came on my dress, i like this one!” you glance down at the newfound stains and lay your head back down with a sigh.

“princess, you’ve got my blood and dirt on that too. it needs a clean.”

“you need a clean,” you turn your head to face him, tiredness but relief all over his face. you smirk, “when was the last time you cleaned your dick?”

bakugou laughs drily, stretching his arms above his head whilst still holding your hand. your body drags with him, “you didn’t care a second ago, i know you don’t now.”

you make a noise of disapproval, looking over your fiancé with fresh eyes, “i’m happy you’re home.”

bakugou tilts his head, blinking at you softly like a friendly cat. your heart warms. 

“i’m happy i’m home too.”

—

your fiancé carries you bridal style through your home and you can’t stop touching the thick beard growing at his chin and cheeks. even the moustache on his upper lip has you fascinated. 

you like it. a lot. and once you’ve softened him up by complimenting his new look, even suggesting keeping it, you try something else.

“so, since you know i can take you down, does this mean i can go on a raid with you?”

bakugou narrows his gaze at you in his arms. happy, sweet and sated. your fingers are touching every bit of skin above his shoulders. he has no clue why you thought to put your finger in his ear a second ago but he didn’t say no.

“princess, i am fuckin’ tired. i want to sleep until next year and not think about another raid until i wake up,” he deadpans but to his detriment, you pout.

“okay,” and he thinks it’s over when you snuggle against him, fingertips brushing against the hair on his chest, “i don’t need your permission anyway.”

“i will throw you out of the window,” he threatens but his grip tightens on you when he says the words.

you giggle and he thinks the sun is rising outside, “no you wouldn’t.”

“i could.”

“but you wouldn’t.”

VIKING MASTERLIST

Large man who feels so awkward in their big bulky body and thinks they’re too big + chubby shorty who knows for a fact they can take it and often flusters him with how bold they are about it.

Bakugou is mean to your stuffed animals when he wants to tease you. He'll stare at whatever stuffed animal you're holding and then suddenly grab it by the neck.

"The fuck did you say to me?!" And you'll giggle and tell him to stop as you try to save your stuffed animal.

Of course he'd never really do anything that would seriously upset you. He just likes the sound of your laugh, the feel of you pressing against him as he holds the object of your desire far away from you

Manliest manly man

have we thought about handyman kirishima???

nagi and isagi taking turns with you !!!?? 👁👁

simply gnawing on your arm anon

i feel like reo dangles you in front of nagi like a treat whenever he plays well. if nagi scores a goal, he gets to touch you, if nagi scores two goals he gets to kiss you — so on, so forth.

on a particularly good day for seishiro, he ends up being the top scorer for the match and mikage is just so proud of his little friend for doing so well — he takes the reward up a notch. makes you dress in black because it’s his treasure’s absolute favourite colour, has you lying back into his chest with his fingers fast on your clit while nagi humps at your slick pussy to his heart’s content.

“nghh, reo, she’s so good. tight. s’not fair, you get to fuck her all the time ‘n she’s still milkin’ me,” it’s impressive how fast you’re able to dismantle a man and make him whine as he fucks your cunt full — reo loves how you’re so helpless under his best friend but so able to ruin him too. “cummin’ again, cum with me, angel.”

when nagi’s done having his go and creaming your insides, reo combs back his hair — scratches at his scalp until he calms down before helping sei roll off of you. “you okay princess, think you can take me now?” he’ll ask but he doesn’t really care whether you say yes or no — because you’ll always be needy for reo, always want him too. besides, reo gets super turned on just watching his best friend has his way with you, and has no problem making sure nagi’s cum sticks too. proudly thrusting it back into you.

He is so sweet and manly it hurts!

kirishima manhandles you so easily without trying. just moves you out of the way with his hands on your hips, picks you up and places you on ledges, sweeps your legs out from under you to carry you bridal style, drags you to the edge of the bed by your thighs, gets you from sitting on his face to lying on your back in a motion so quick and fluid it has your head spinning. and i don’t think he really knows he’s doing it, it’s not like he even has to think about it, it’s natural for him to throw you around like a ragdoll with how strong he is — one day you tell him you love the way he manhandles you and he’s like “i… manhandle you???”

Me: honestly tho I think I’m over my Deku phase

Deku:

In my art school au kirishima works with metal and you’ve never met him before but one day denki asks you to go by his studio for him to give him back his notes and when u do kiri is huge and tall with bulging muscles and big hands and he’s got a welding helmet on that makes him look sort of scary but when he takes it off and gives you that boyish grin you feel suddenly weak in the knees

Title: Loving Suffocation.

A Continuation Of This Piece.

Written for a very lovely, very indulgent anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Loid x Reader x Yandere!Yor (SxF).

Word Count: 4k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Slight Somnophilia, Spanking, Sex Toys, Breeding, Mentions of Pregnancy, Medical Malpractice, Oral Sex, Obsessive Behavior, Slight Gaslighting, Bruising/Marking, and Overstimulation.

You never did get to see your opera. A lack of oxygen turned your cramped world blurry and abstract, and you faded in and out of consciousness while Yor fussed over your ruined dress and gathered you up in her arms, the strip of fabric she’d tied around your neck and stuffed in your mouth – not quite a gag, but enough to convince your uncooperative vocal cords that calling for help wouldn’t be worth the effort. Sometime between being pulled against Yor’s chest and slipping out of that sex-saturated storage closet, you blinked and by the time you could find the strength to open your eyes again, you were in your apartment, in your own bed, your makeshift gag gone and your wrists bound  behind your back with a generous amount of duct tape. You briefly considered calling for help, but you were past the point of screaming. Even if you tried, the Forgers were your only neighbors close enough to hear, and you’d seen enough of enough of that family for a lifetime.

Just as exhaustion began to overwhelm your better judgement, you caught stifled footsteps in the near distance, heard the door to your bedroom creak open and shut with enough force to shake the drywall. This time, when you closed your eyes, it was in a deliberate effort to will yourself to sleep. An effort that was, of course, rendered futile by Yor’s hand on your forehead, a soft hum too tender to be purposefully deceptive. “I think they might be asleep. The poor thing could barely hold their eyes open.”

“That’s fine.” Instantly, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice low and airy, but even in worst dreams, Loid seemed to be able to carve out a place for himself. It made sense for him to make an appearance in this nightmare, too. “Can you show me where the damage is?”

You held your breath as Yor’s hand drifted from your face to your thigh. After a moment of hesitation, she nudged you onto your back, pulling the ragged remains of your skirt up to your waist. You fought not to bolt up as cold air washed over your exposed, abused cunt – not to ball your fists as you felt Loid’s narrowed eyes pry into you the way they always seemed to when you passed each other in the hall, when he got home before you could find a reason to get out of the Forgers’ suffocating apartment. You managed to hold yourself still as he clicked his tongue, edging that much closer to the foot of your bed. You could picture him leaning over you, perfectly styled blonde hair falling ever so slightly out of place as he took long, agonizing seconds to evaluate the bruises lining the inside of your thighs, the crescent-shaped marks Yor’s nails had left pressed in your hips, your waist. Calloused fingertips brushed over your ankle, but further restraint was deemed unnecessary as his attention shifted back to his wife. “And you said you found them…?”

“Unconscious,” she filled in. You could hear her shifting her weight, feigning concern as her husband evaluated you. “In front of our building. I tried to wake them up, but they panicked, and I remembered the treatment you told me about for—for hysteria.” She paused, swallowed. “I thought I could help, but I’m afraid I might’ve just made things worse…”

Loid’s response was delayed, put off in favor of inching that much closer to you. The mattress dipped as he rested a knee on the foot of your bed. Don’t move, you repeated to yourself, despite the ever-growing urge to get up and run gnawing violently at the back of your mind. If you pretended to be asleep, you’d only have to tolerate a few minutes of his attention before he got tired of leering at your conscious body. If you pretended to be asleep, they’d leave and you could start to forget this ever happened.

It got harder to be so rational as he reached out, running two fingers over your slit and splitting apart the lips of your pussy, giving himself a better view of your abused clit, your entrance – still pitifully drooling slick. You tried to remember what kind of doctor he was, but any specialties that might’ve come to mind were immediately forgotten as his gloved fingers slipped inside of you. You had to bite back a quiet hiss as he scissored open the sore walls of your cunt, his touch probing and experimental. At least Yor had the decency not to draw it out. “You reacted swiftly and efficiently. Even trained paramedics leave residual damage.” He drew back suddenly, and you fought not to jolt at his callousness. “Can you show me what exactly your…” He trailed off. You could practically hear the curiosity in his voice. “…your treatment entailed?”

Yor made a noise you couldn’t decipher. Loid moved away from you entirely, but Yor was quick to take his place. She settled into the space between your legs, her hands – shaking ever so slightly – taking up your hips, her fingertips near-perfectly aligned with the dark bruises pressed into your skin. You felt her breath ghost over the inside of your thighs, the flat of her tongue run gingerly over your slit, and you bolted upward on instinct, mouth open and ready to—

—ready to have your scream stifled and suffocated by Loid’s palm as he forced his hand over your mouth and shoved you back into the mattress. Unable to claw at his arm, to pry him off of you, you thrashed under his steadfast hold, but he didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Rather, his eyes met yours for all of half a second before flickering to his wife, sparing her a slight nod. “Patients usually react with some level of resistance. You can go on.”

Yor’s eyes widened, but any shock she might’ve felt seemed to melt away at her husband’s assurance. She was more nervous, now that she was performing for an audience rather than assaulting you in the privacy of her chosen hideaway, but the little, tentative movements of her tongue got braver over time, her eyes closing as her hands drifted from your waist to your thighs. She nudged your legs onto her shoulders and latched onto your clit, suckling with just enough force to draw a reaction out of your burnt-out nerves, to leave you trembling and struggling to swallow back pained moans and pathetic whimpers. It hurt – more than anything, it hurt – but she had your body trained, knew just what points to hit to get what she wanted out of you. More than that, your body knew that it wasn’t going to end until she reached her goal, until she had you cumming on her tongue for the— god, how many times would this make? You’d lost track after the first dozen, but even if you hadn’t, it would’ve been impossible to tell, impossible to know what she’d accomplished the first time reality started to blur and consciousness was rendered more of revokable privilege than something you’d ever be capable of holding on to without help. In less than a minute, you were grinding against her tongue involuntarily, the movement of your hips stilted and jerky. You couldn’t have called it a real orgasm, not when any pleasure you could’ve felt was so overshadowed by a searing sort of ache, but Yor seemed satisfied – drawing the back of her hand over her chin as she lifted her head, sending Loid a sheepish smile.

“I just, uh,” she started, drumming her fingers over your thigh. “I just did that until they calmed down. I’m not sure if it helped.”

“I see.” Loid, for his part, failed to let his air of stoic professionalism so much as waver.  “And how many times did the patient reach climax?”

“…thirty?” Yor let out an airy, nervous laugh. “Maybe more. It… It was a little hard to keep track, in the moment.”

“And they’re still so unruly.” He was kind enough to feign concern, to let his tone soften and purse his lips into a thin frown. For a second, you let yourself believe that you’d just stumbled into a bad situation – that he and his wife were under some shared delusion and genuinely thought they might’ve been helping you, but then you caught a spec of crimson on the collar of Yor’s dress out of the corner of your eye and thought better of trying to humanize them. “Would you mind if I took a closer look?”

The question was posed to Yor, not you. “Please do, you’re the doctor here,” she spouted, hurrying to get out of Loid’s way. Loid was more hesitant, his palm lingering over your mouth as his eyes found yours. He was cold at the best of times – his expression often hollow when he thought your attention was elsewhere, his touch enough to send a chill down your spine on the rare occasion he found an excuse to put his hands on you – but the look he sent you as he uncovered your mouth was nothing short of frigid. The threat was clear, albeit ambiguous. You had no idea what Loid was capable of, let alone what extremes he was willing to go to.

But, you knew what Yor could do – you’d caught her in the act.

And you weren’t eager to find out what’d she’d do to you at her husband’s request.

When his hand finally fell away from your mouth, you didn’t make a sound. Rather, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek as Loid wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you onto his lap – his thighs cutting harshly into your stomach. The position was enough to leave your cheeks burning and humiliation tying knots in the back of your throat, but whatever embarrassment you might’ve felt was multiplied ten-fold as his hand ghosted over the buttons lining the back of your dress and your only remaining protective barrier fell away – mutilated fabric now limp and useless beneath you. You started to writhe, but the heel of Loid’s palm found the small of your back, pressing into the base of your spine with just enough force a pained whimper past your lips. Reflectively, Yor moved to reach towards you, but Loid shook his head. “It’s important to test for reactiveness,” he explained, tone flat and steely. “I can take care of bruises and cuts, but lasting nerve damage will make things—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—difficult.”

“Oh!” Yor clapped her hands together. At least she seemed to sincerely believe that, even if she wasn’t helping you, her husband might be. You couldn’t tell what Loid was thinking, but it couldn’t have been so benevolent. “Is that what you’re doing now? Testing for reactiveness?”

“Exactly.” Loid flashed her a smile. You felt him shift, fish something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. Aching numbness had put you at a distance from his invasive touch before, but Yor’s mouth had done away with that – resurrecting the buzzing sort of hyper-sensitivity that meant you weren’t able to hide the way your hips bucked against his thigh as he slid something sleek and metallic into your drenched pussy. It was oddly shaped – one end tapered and the other flat, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand but still big enough to leave you squirming uncomfortably as Loid pulled back. “Normally, I’d use more intricate equipment, but there are a few experiments I can run on my own.”

You heard nails against metal, a soft click muffled by stiff machinery. After a second of delay, the object inside of you let out an abrupt pulse of pure vibration – harsh and sudden and awful. Your reaction was reflexive, undisguisable. You threw your head forward as you bit back a bubbling, broken moan; waves of intense reverberation beating at the walls of your cunt. There was no time to brace yourself, to grow into the piercing sting – it was already too much. The walls of your pussy clenched around the source of your agony, and before you could think to stifle your reactions, to give them as little as you possibly could, tears were blurring your vision, dripping down your cheeks. Yor cooed, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheeks. “Poor thing…” she mumbled, before looking up towards Loid. “I don’t think they’re enjoying it.”

Another wave of pulsing reverberation, a jagged cry forced past your lips. “P-please, turn it off, take it out, I can’t—”

It took you a second to process the sound of a palm against flesh, how it might’ve been connected to the bright flash of pain just below the curve of your ass. When you could bring yourself to glance over your shoulder, his hand was raised, his expression stern. The sight was enough to make your heart ache in your chest – a sensitivity which surprised you. You hadn’t thought there was anything the Forgers could do to hurt you more than they already had.

“We’re going out of our way to help you.” It was the same tone he used with Anya when she refused to do her homework or threatened to drop out of her upper-crust academy. Whatever genuine sympathy he might’ve had for you was buried beneath a heavy layer of practiced stoicism and nearly totalitarian authority, turning the words cold where they should’ve been comforting. “It’s unfair to be so ungrateful when Yor’s already sacrificed so much of her time for the sake of your health. Why don’t you apologize to her?”

Again, you heard that same soft click, and the vibrations pulsing out of the object in your cunt doubled in intensity. You let your head fall forward, clenching your eyes shut as you struggled to spit something out. “I… I’m sorry, Yor, I didn’t mean to—”

You were cut off by a sharp moan, the feeling of Loid’s fingers tracing over your slit. Soon, the pad of his thumb found your clit, pushing dull circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. He let out an airy chuckle as you withered into yourself, your legs spreading involuntarily as your feet struggled to find purchase on carpeting that seemed to be just an inch too far, to ground yourself on something that Loid didn’t even have to try to keep just out of your grasp. “Don’t strain yourself,” he muttered, your unwanted reward for your easy compliance. “How does this—” He pushed a rough pattern into your clit, drawing out a wavering cry. “—feel?”

Miserable. Torturous. The worst thing that’d ever been inflected onto your poor, spent body. You deflated, your chest flattening against Loid’s thighs. “…it hurts.”

This time, he let you finish before pulling back, his palm striking your ass with twice the force he’d used before. You cried out, the noise uneven and anguished, but your pain didn’t seem to rank very high on his nebulous list of concerns. “I’ve already told you not to be so ungrateful,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you know what would’ve happened if we weren’t here to help you?” Another strike, another ragged sob. “You’d be suffering on your own, in excruciating pain and spiraling into your own delusions. If we hadn’t been there to correct you so quickly, you would’ve been unrecoverable.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You were babbling, now, your apologies clumped together and nearly unintelligible. Loid cut in, pointed as ever.

“You’ve already apologized.” Two digits slipped into you, splitting your pussy open. Somehow, the added stimulation only seemed to make his device’s vibration more unbearable. “Now, it’s time to tell Yor how thankful you are.”

“Thank you—” There was no hesitation, no resistance. If you’d been able to, if you hands hadn’t been bound, you would’ve clung to her, dug your nails into her shoulder and your teeth into Loid’s thigh, anything to feel like you weren’t about to fall apart altogether. “Thank you, I’m so— I can’t— Thank you—”

It was Yor, this time – her mouth crashing against yours as her hand found the back of your head. Her tongue slipped past your lips, raking over yours with a ginger sort of tenderness and raking her fingers through your hair, drinking down every little moan and whimper her husband forced out of you with enthusiasm. She lingered there, lips moving gently against yours, as you reached your next climax – the number completely lost on you, now. When she pulled away, eyes glazed over and a dark blush painted over her cheeks, Loid hummed approvingly, fishing his bullet-shaped device out of your pussy and switching it off. Slick dripped down the inside of your thighs, your chest heaving stiltedly against his lap, and you noticed, for the first time, something large and stiff pressing into your stomach. For your own sake, you decided you weren’t going to think about it.

But, like always, Loid was quick to tear even the comfort you found in your own mind away from you.

“You did what you could,” Loid started, with heavy sigh. “But their condition is worse than I thought. It might take more than the usual treatment to set them back on the right path.” A lengthy pause, an arm looped underneath you. With more care than he’d seen fit to show you all night, Loid repositioned you on your back in the center of your bed. You were too exhausted to so much as try to protest. “For cases like this, insemination is the only known cure.”

Yor blinked up at him, more curious than confused. “Insemination?”

“Pregnancy,” Loid filled in. “It can be done artificially, but for cases this severe…”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Weakly, you tried to sit up, but it was Yor that stopped you, this time, pressing her hand flat against your shoulder and pinning you down effortlessly. “If that’s what’s best,” she chimed, her smile wide and brilliant. “Can I help?”

For the first time, Loid’s expression seemed to warm. “Of course.”

Less than a full minute later, you were slotted against Yor, your head resting on her chest and her arms loosely wrapped around your midriff. Loid had reclaimed his position in the space between your open legs, one hand on your hip and the other toying with his clothes, shifting the waist of his now-wrinkled dress pants down just far enough to free his flush cock – already hard, already leaking pearls of arousal. The sight, paired with the breathy sigh he let out as he wrapped his fist around his shaft, was enough to dash any hopes you might’ve had of a last-minute change of heart.

You squirmed in Yor’s hold, your fists balling around your own near ruined sheets as Loid aligned himself with your entrance. You didn’t realize you were talking until you heard your own voice, fragile and desperate, nearly too broken to be comprehensible. “Please don’t, I—I’m not sick, please don’t—”

It was Yor who hushed you, this time, smiling as she pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “He’s going to help you,” she whispered, tone simpering where you wished it would be sterile. “You can just sit back and relax while we—” She paused, squeezed you against her playfully. “—make sure you’re alright.”

There was a beat of silence, of stillness. Eventually, you managed to stutter out, “I don’t want your help.”

Loid let out an airy chuckle, tracing the flushed tipped of his cock over your slit. “You don’t have to want anything.” He bowed his head, leaning down far enough to rest his lips against the top of your head. “You’ll need all the help you can get, in a few weeks.”

You didn’t have time to protest, not before he thrust into you – sheathing himself to the hilt in a single stroke.

You tried to scream, but Yor’s mouth found yours in a moment, swallowing any fractured noises you might’ve been able to make. Loid didn’t seem interested in giving you time to adjust; immediately falling into a rhythm just as forceful and just as cruel as anything else he’d done to you. It wasn’t a question of if it would hurt, anymore, but how badly. The feeling of his not inconsiderably length splitting open your aching pussy alone was enough to bring tears to your eyes, and his rough thrusts, his shattering pace – all of it only working to agitate the few parts of you that hadn’t already gone numb to his assult. You clenched your eyes shut, willing yourself to go completely numb, but Yor cooed, one of her hands falling away from you only to find its way to the curve of your stomach, her palm soon pressed flat against your skin. “Miss Anya did mention wanting a younger sister,” she muttered, nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. “It’ll be difficult to hide, ‘till it’s over with. There used to be a single mother working at city hall, but the State Security Service paid her a visit and…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “But I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you!”

“Of course not.” Loid’s voice was breathy, his attention mostly elsewhere. He did his best to stay composed, to maintain that painstakingly professionally air, but you could feel him twitch inside of you, feel his hips stutter as his pace grew that much more brutal. “We’ll be taking care of you. When you start to show, you’ll move in with us, and—” A groan, a pair of tired eyes allowed to close. “—and if you cooperate, we’ll make it so you don’t have to worry about anything aside from the baby. Any added stress will only make the pregnancy more difficult.”

Loid’s hips pressed against yours, Yor’s mouth on the curve of your neck. “Our little family is growing so quickly.” You could feel her grin against your throat, fangs ready to clamp down at the first sign of resistance. “I can’t wait until you’re better. You’ll be so happy, when you’re in your right mind again.”

Your mouth fell open, but anything you might’ve said died in your throat long before it could ever reach your tongue. There was no pleasure to it, no stimulation other than the same grating sensation and the pinpoints of pressure where Loid’s fingertips dug into your waist, but if your comfort mattered to Loid, he would’ve stopped as soon as he saw what his wife did to you. He cursed under his breath, throwing his hand forward and hauling your rigid body that much closer to his. You didn’t have a chance to brace yourself, to trick your pain-addled mind into believing there was anything you could possibly do to get away from him before he went still, something thick and searing flooding into your unprotected cunt. He lingered there, his cum leaking out of you despite your pussy’s futile attempts to cling to his cock, and for the first time, you let yourself think about what they were taking about – insemination, pregnancy, growing families and new siblings. You let yourself acknowledge the weight of Yor’s hand against your stomach, Loid’s hips against yours. You let yourself breath in, holding the air in your lungs for a moment before exhaling and going limp against Yor.

Fuck.

If you never saw the Forgers again, it’d still be a day too soon.

Yor started to pull away from you, but Loid stopped her. “Conception can be fickle,” he started, fighting not to pant audibly. “It’d be for the best if we were…” His eyes dropped to you. “…thorough.”

“Do you hear that?” Her hold grew that much tighter, her smile that much brighter. Her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The feeling might’ve sent a chill down your spine, if you still had the strength to be afraid of them.

“Loid’s going to take very good care of you.”