Work Text:
It has been three months since the acclaimed hero “Ground Zero” began frequently visiting your shop.
Dawning a civilian disguise and his signature nasty temper, he had stormed inside in demand of the worker roster, tapping his fingers impatiently as he waited for his request to be met. Upon inspection, every girl on the list was beautiful (it was part of the job to be after all); but something about your profile drew him in. He couldn’t put his finger on any particular reason-- maybe it was your features, or the fierce yet elegant attitude your picture portrayed; it might even have been as simple as liking your name. All Bakugou Katsuki knew definitively at that moment was that you were the one.
He had confronted you boldly, having no qualms admitting his intentions for being in your designated room that day. It was something he described as a “rut”, how he could no longer cum from conventional means. During his time as a dominant, he’d done it all: toys, anal, bondage, roleplaying-- anything you could think of, he had tried and it had failed. In the end, he found your services to be his only remaining option.
You sat down with him in private. Having spoken with him in detail about his situation, you determined that because of his wealth, muscular physique, and brazen personality, Bakugou was an unfortunate victim of stereotyping. The pieces all fit. And to top it off, his position as a leading hero demanded he always be the one to take charge. It was a common scenario you had seen plenty of times throughout your years as a sex worker: men forced into a role they couldn’t hope to fufill, eventually finding solace in your domination.
Bakugou had grimaced at your analysis. Deep down, he knew it to be true.
To help ease him into this new lifestyle, you planned a brief scene for the following day. It merely involved handcuffs and light edging, but it had left him breathless, spent, and eager to return.
Since then, the relationship you two have developed has been... much different from your usual clients. As a gentle dom, you are much more accustomed to dealing with obedient, submissive customers. However, Katsuki is anything but.
Scenes with Katsuki have become fights for power.
As always, he knocks at your door promptly at six o’clock. You had set this rule early on in your meetings to teach him discipline. If he’s even a minute late, you’ll dole out punishment, a concept he isn’t particularly fond of. With a soft smile, you answer the door.
“Welcome back, Katsuki. How was work?”
“ ‘t was fine, Ma’am.” He grumbles unconvincingly.
He enters after you and kicks his shoes into the corner nearest the door. With your permission, he quietly leaves your side to wash up. It doesn’t take long for the sound of streaming water to echo throughout the room, leaving you with the opportunity to perch yourself on the edge of your bed and review your plans for this evening.
Water from Katsuki’s undried hair drips metronomically onto your cheek as he climbs and settles atop you with a snarl.You scold him for dampening your bed sheets. Satin is awfully expensive, he knows better . In, what must be, a pathetic attempt to distract you, he leans in to cut off your reprimands with a kiss. However, before he gets his opportunity, you press a finger to his lips and tsk in disappointment.
“You know the rules, Katsuki. Safe word?”
“Nuclear.”
“And to begin the scene?”
“ Fucking ...!! Please, Miss, may we begin?”
You take quick notice of both his language and unusual impatience. Had something happened at work that he didn’t want to tell you about?
A pleasant shiver courses down his spine and a soft purr escapes his throat when you thread your fingers unexpectedly through his damp hair. He’ll never admit to it, but he loves whenever you pet him. It’s a tactic you often use in order to ease his nerves. You know it makes him feel a bit smaller, a feeling he’s typically reluctant to indulge in. So now, when he leans in for a kiss, it’s much softer. Once your lips slot together, he releases a heavy sigh.
You enjoy this tender moment. He’s rarely ever this gentle with you. You swipe your tongue against his bottom lip before giving it a playful bite. He groans, hips twitching from the satisfying stimulation. But as if the situation suddenly comes crashing back to him, Katsuki springs to his knees, pulling away with a jerk.
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Before you can question his actions, he growls, teeth bared in what you can only interpret an act of intimidation. But why?
“Katsuki, are you really okay?”
His answer is an attack on your neck-- an onslaught of rash, painful biting that leaves you choking on air. Your head jolts back as he takes the sensitive flesh of your neck into his mouth and sucks harshly. He bites down acutely, hard enough to draw blood, forcing you to let out a sharp shriek. Instinctively, your foot buries into the soft of his stomach as you shove him away from his position on top of you.
Gripping your fresh wound with a grimace, you can’t even hope to disguise your shock and confusion from Bakugou’s actions. You search his curled up figure for any sort of hint to this spontaneous aggression. In an attempt to obtain an answer, you open your mouth, but are interrupted once again-- this time, by a deep chuckle so intense, it has his body shaking.
“Katsuki...?”
“Sorry, ma’am,” he drawls, dialing back his unnerving laughter, “Today’s just been so goddamn annoying.”
Your lack of response coaxes him to continue, ever-so-slightly.
“An old... friend of mine showed back up... ‘Made a fucking fool out of me.” His words practically drip with venom and rage.
He keeps his eyes glued to the sheets and his explanation brief.You decide it best not to press the issue of this “friend” for now, for both of your sakes. The two of you slip into a prolonged silence, neither of you looking at the other.
“...Ma’am,” he finally speaks up, “Today... I want to play rough.”
He looks up at you at last, staring directly into your eyes with an intensity that leaves you speechless. You can tell, even without words, that this is something he desperately needs; and despite your lack of preparation for this unplanned scene, you feel a visceral excitement you have never experienced before. With a sharp smirk, you accept his request.
Katsuki’s back slams heavily against the wall, your arms keeping him locked in place. His head collides painfully with the plasterboard as you cup his neck with your palm and bury your fingertips deep into his skin. His face is burning red, and his pupils are dilated so wide it’s a wonder he can even see straight. His chest rises and falls at an almost unhealthy rate, as if he’d just finished running a marathon. With your own toothy grin, you begin pressing open kisses to his collar-- all the while keeping his head raised high with your dominant hand. If he hopes to not cut off his airflow, he won’t move a muscle.
For the first time in an hour, he allows you to command his movements. As you mark his chest, bringing violent purple blemishes to the surface, his eyes drag slowly across the room, slowly taking in its destroyed state. Your bed frame lay practically dismantled-- your covers torn and scattered across the floor. A few of your picture frames barely remain hanging by a single nail, the others lie shattered on the ground. All of the contents of your tabletop are tossed dangerously onto the carpet. If anyone were to walk in at this moment, they’d believe you’d been robbed.
The sight of the destruction rips an unprompted moan from Katsuki’s raw throat. You smirk against his skin. It’s been a while since he’s sounded so broken-- it’s music to your ears.
Releasing his neck, you bring your hand scraping down his chest to his sore, chafed nipples. You tug painfully at one of the abused buds, relishing in his choked scream. Despite his protests, you continue to flick and pull and gnaw at his sensitive skin. The reactions he’s giving you aren’t what you want to hear. You want to hear him beg.
With your free hand, you dryly take his cock into your palm and jerk him off quickly. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, one he almost immediately tries to pull himself away from, but your grip has him glued in place. He’s at your mercy now. All he can do is whimper and sob like a pathetic little boy.
By the time you drag your fingernails down to his testicles, Katsuki opens his mouth to speak for the first time since your session began.
“Pl--” He’s cut off by an unexpected fit of coughs, drool slipping from the corner of his lips and his chest deeply heaving. His unfocused eyes momentarily struggle to find yours. You take in his absolutely flustered state with pride. You did this to him-- Bakugou Katsuki; the world renowned hero “Ground Zero” is a now sobbing mess at your fingertips.
When he finally has the air to speak, it’s exactly what you want to hear. “Please, Miss, let me fuck you, please. I’m so fucking turned on right now, please!!”
The unexpected release from your grip has his knees giving way. Katsuki tumbles to the floor with uneven breath as you quickly make your way to your dresser and pull out a bottle of lube.
You’re bending over the edge of your bed in a heartbeat, popping open the lid with every intention of making a show out of your immense arousal. You hiss softly as you trace a lubed finger against the entrance of your pussy. Playing idly with your clit and inserting a finger or two passively inside yourself, you wait for Katsuki to regain some of his senses. It takes a curled finger and exaggerated moan to have him whipping his head in your direction and noticing your little performance.
“Mm, are you finally back,” You taunt, “I thought you wanted to play rough, Mr. Hero? How mean, leaving me all alone to get myself off.”
His growl has you clenching around your fingers. He rises to his wobbly feet, his eyes now as focused as they can be on your dripping cunt. He looks absolutely primal. You can tell that he’s about at his wits end.
“You want to fuck me, Katsuki?”
“Yes.” He groans, eyes never parting from your sex.
“Then why don’t you beg for me one more time, Mr. Hero~”
“Please. Please, let me put my cock inside you. I’m so fucking hard for you, baby.”
“‘ Baby ’ now, is it? Alright, Katsuki, don’t disappoint me.”
You wake up the next morning tangled in Katsuki’s arms and legs, his chest pressed snuggly against your back and his nose buried deep within the crook of your neck-- the memory of the previous night’s scene still ringing fresh in your mind. As you maneuver yourself out of the cocoon you’d somehow created, snippets of his animalistic groans and images of the desperate roll of his hips continue to play on repeat before your eyes. As you sneak off to take your morning shower, you quietly get yourself off a few more times before turning off the faucet and wrapping yourself in your favourite fluffy towel.
By the time you exit the bathroom, Katsuki is awake and dressed, promptly ready for another hard day of work. You lean against the corridor wall and watch in silence as he pulls back on the shoes he had rudely left in the corner.
As he opens the door and takes a step outside, he turns back to you with his usual, neutral expression.
You return the look with a soft smile and a wave, “So, same time next week?”