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Your screams are muffled behind the gag in your mouth. You’ve been sitting in this freezing cold room for what feels like hours now, tied and bound in a wooden chair that creaks every time you heave your body side to side. The earmuffs over your ears block your hearing, the blindfold snatching away your sight. It feels horrible, your senses stolen from you after overhearing some things you shouldn’t have on the streets—
You squeeze your eyes shut when the blindfold is snatched up into your hairline, the bright lights of the room temporarily blinding you. You wait a few seconds before pealing your eyes open, blinking a few times to let them adjust to the shape in front of you.
It’s a man, with spiky blond hair and a hard red gaze that makes you whimper and shrink under his watchful eye. You’ve seen him before, but never in person. Seen him on the news, pictures and videos of him smiling and yelling as he fires shot after shot at police officers, grins and flips off those who record him as he drives off into the night. You’ve heard stories about the blond man with the explosive fists and attitudes, how he never held mercy for his victims.
Yakuza boss, Katsuki Bakugou. Standing right in front of you, all scowls and frowns as he sizes you up in your chair, leans back on his heels to get a good look at you. You’ve heard nobody has ever been able to look him in the eye and survive before. The thought makes you gulp behind your gag.
“Tell me; were you being a fuckin’ rat, or just in the wrong place at the wrong time?” His voice was gravelly, deep and rumbling in his chest as he slips his hands into his pockets and peers down at you from the bridge of his nose. You tried to answer, knowing it was all in vain with the gag still placed in your mouth. You hope your eyes convey your answer.
Bakugou just cocks his head, glances at the lackeys who guard the room. He jerks his chin somewhere you can’t see, and you hear feet shuffling before a heavy door opens and slams shut. The room goes silent, save for your heavy pants and quiet hiccups. Bakugou just watches you, rocks slightly on the balls of his feet as he seems to be mulling over his next question in his head.
“You a spy?” He grunts. You shake your head vehemently, blinking away the tears that start welling in your eyes.
“You tellin’ me you don’t work for nobody? Not even that crusty fuck Shigaraki?” Bakugou asks, finally starting to move around from his one spot. He rolls the sleeves up on his pristine white button up, turns on his heel to walk behind a desk a couple of feet behind him that you hadn’t noticed before.
You try to answer again, trying to make a clear ‘no’ sound through the gag. You wish he would just take the fucking thing out, let you answer the questions he keeps fucking asking! But Bakugou only shuffles with a few things in a drawer, before pulling something thick and black out. You hope its not a—
“I could blow ya fucking head off, if I wanted to. My clan knows I can’t stand a fucking liar.” Bakugou grumbles, makes his way around the desk to stand back in front of you again. He tucks the gun in his waistband, makes sure it’s still on show as he crosses a pair of thick forearms across his chest. You can’t help but try to make sense of the swirling colorful tattoos that crisscross and take up the entirety of the exposed skin. Bakugou notices you’re staring and smirks.
“But because you’re pretty, I’ll ask you again,” He murmurs, finally reaching forward to tug the gag from your mouth. You inhale sharply, licking your dry lips, unaware of the dark look Bakugou gave the thin strings of saliva that still connected your mouth to the black gag. You think he’s going to step back again, but he instead leans on the back of the chair, his deep gaze boring into yours as he speaks quietly, his voice still strong and booming in the silent room.
“Who the fuck do you work for?” He asks slow, makes sure to enunciate every single word, every single syllable. You swallow, let your eyes jump in between his red ones, glance down to where his free hand rests too close to the gun. You swallow again before answering.
“N-Nobody,” you stammer. “I-I don’t work for anyone. I just, I was on my way h—”
“Bullshit.” Bakugou cuts you off before you can fully get your excuse out. You shake your head quickly, opening your mouth to speak but he beats you to the punch.
“My right hand said he saw you creepin’ around the corner while he was discussin’ business. You tryna collect intel for your dry flake of a fucking boss?”
What the ever loving fuck was this man talking about?! You don’t know a fucking Shigaraki or why he kept referring to the man as dry, but fuck, you didn’t have shit to do with yakuza deals! You try to convey this to him, but the man cuts you off again, rests his other hand on the back of the chair to fully trap you in between thick arms.
“What are you getting from this deal, hah? A raise? New purse? Some dick?” Bakugou’s eyes turn into slits, jumping all over your face to gauge your reaction. You splutter, eyes going wide as you wiggle your bound hands in their confinements, quickly shaking your head.
“Some—what the f—no, hell no—I don’t even know who the fuck—”
“You can tell me, princess. Whatever he’s promising you for intel on me, I bet I could give it to you ten times better.” His voice drops, swoops his head from staring at you to whisper in your ear, his gruff voice sending a shiver up your spine. You shudder in place, let your eyes fall close as you feel his broad shoulders hover above your freezing frame.
“Just tell me, and I won’t blow your fuckin’ head off.” Bakugou gripes, makes your breath hitch in your throat as he presses his mouth directly against your earlobe.
“Might even give you something else for being a good little cooperative bitch.” He lets his hands drop from resting on the chair to rubbing on your bound shoulders. He lets his hands creep down, run along the exposed skin of your sides from your shirt ripping in the tussle with his men. You shiver, eyes struggling to stay open as he pulls back again to level you off with a look, one thin eyebrow cocked in question.
“I’m not lying,” you tongue feels too thick for your mouth. “I was just trying to go home and heard whispering from the alley. I-I was just being nosy,” you hope your teary eyes and trembling bottom lip conveys how truthful you’re being. Bakugou scans your face for a second, blinks a few times before he sighs and stands to his full height. You instantly panic when he pulls the gun fluidly from his waistband and presses it to your forehead.
“Something tells me to not believe you,” Bakugou grumbles to himself, turning the gun slightly to run the barrel across your forehead and cheeks. You let the tears fall, eyes clamped shut as you try to even your breathing.
“Or maybe I just don’t wanna let a pretty little thing like you go.” He whispers more to himself than to you. Your eyes snap open, gaping up at him as he starts to trail the gun lower and lower, lets the barrel rest where your chest heaves.
“Might never get you back, you know?” He asks quietly, lets his gun pull down the front of your shirt, yanks with enough force that it tears the already tattered fabric into two around your waist. You realize his intention all too late, eyes frantic and wide as you try pulling your hands up from where they were bound to the sides of the chair.
“I could keep tabs on you, but where’s the fun in that when I have you sitting here all bound up and pretty for me, princess?” Bakugou smirks, pushes the right strap of your bra over, eyes how the top of your breast starts to spill over.
“Please don’t do this,” you whisper. Bakugou only glances up at you, chuckles through his nose, before slipping his gun right back into his waistband. You breathe out a sigh of relief, only to yelp when he fishes out a knife from his pocket instead, and cuts your bra clean down the middle. Your tits bounce in place quickly, you gasping at the drop of the weight as Bakugou whistles under his breath.
“Goddamn girl,” He mumbles under his breath, standing back to admire your chest. He uses his free hand to grope at them, pluck your nipples with nimble fingers, laughs at your squeak of pain.
“If you try to run, I’ll slice your fucking neck.” Is all the warning you get before Bakugou is slicing you free from your confinements. Before you can even think about moving, he’s hoisting you up by your bicep and dragging you over to his desk. He picks you up by the waist to plop you down on the expensive mahogany, before finding his own seat in front of you.
Bakugou admires the view for a second, grabbing and squeezing your waist before he suddenly dives in to take a pert nipple into his mouth. You whimper, hands fisting his ash blond locks as he moans around you. He kneads your other nipple in his hand, suckles on the flesh of your tit, makes sure to leave bruises for anyone to see. He repeats his ministrations on your other nipple, groans whenever you tug gently at every bite he leaves.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” Bakugou rasps, the hand on your waist leaving momentarily to trail down your legs and into his own lap. “Gotta keep you here forever, princess.”
You jump in place when you feel something cold and hard pressing against your core through the thin material of your leggings. Your eyes fly open, completely unaware of when you had even closed them in the first place. You look down to Bakugou, who grins up at you, toys with his gun, runs it up and down the entire expanse of the crotch of your shorts.
“Wha—What are you—”
“Just having some fun with my new toy. You ever been fucked with a gun, princess?” Bakugou asks, leans in to leave peppering kisses against your sternum and stomach as he continues to knead your tit in his hand. You whimper, shaking your head quickly as you try to back away from the gun. Bakugou growls, lets your boob go to instead hook an arm around your waist. He pulls you to the very edge of the desk, until your tits basically squish against his chin.
“Fuck do you think you’re going, hah? I’ve been real fucking lenient with you so far, but don’t take my mercy as an opportunity to escape, bitch.” Bakugou snaps, presses the gun more and more into your cunt. You can feel the outline of it grazing against your clit, making you lurch in place, and try to scramble away once more.
“What the fuck did I just say?” Bakugou snaps again at you. You can hear the distant click of the safety turning off, making you freeze. You subconsciously realize that you’ve been digging your nails into his shoulders, shoot your eyes to his irritated red ones, feel your thighs squeeze around his broad shoulders.
“Don’t think I won’t blow another hole down here. It’ll just be another one for me and my men to fuck.” He barely gets the words out and pulls the gun away, before you hear the banging shot echoing throughout the room. You scream, cover your eyes with your hands, feel a whole body shake, waiting for the pain to come. It never does, but you feel something other than blood spreading underneath your ass, making you heave out an embarrassed sob.
Bakugou goes silent, but you hear him suck in a shaky breath at the sight of you. You hadn’t noticed that his hands left you until you feel thick fingertips trail on the inside of your wet thighs.
“Did you just fuckin’ piss on my fuckin’ desk? On important fuckin’ documents that I need in order to run my fuckin’ business?” His voice is low and though his words sound angry, his tone doesn’t convey the same message. You cry anyway, humiliated and ashamed and fucking embarrassed, but Bakugou is having none of that.
He snatches both of your wrists in one hand, makes you keep them planted on the desk, right in your mess, makes you cringe. He only stares at you, eyes flickering from your eyes, your mouth, your heaving tits, the spill that is turning cold and sticky underneath your ass. He licks his lips at the sight, and moves too quickly for you to process.
You’re being shoved on your back quickly, the gun thrown on the desk beside your hip, lying in a tiny puddle of your accident. Bakugou pulls that same pocket knife out from before, cuts your shorts and panties clean from your body. He throws the soiled material on the floor beside his feet, as he pockets his knife and runs rough hands all over your body.
“You’re so fucking dirty. Can’t believe my new little toy could be such a dirty little bitch for me.” Bakugou groans, grabs under your thighs and pushes them back until your knees are in your chest. He surveys the mess under your ass with a disappointed click of his tongue as you feel mushy paper starting to rip and muddle underneath of you.
“Now I really gotta keep you, for fucking up all these papers. I should make ya cockwarm me while I refill every single one.” He emphasizes the last three words, grinds into your soaked cunt, uncaring of the mess that now stains his pants.
“How does that sound, princess? Wanna sit on my cock all day?” He asks, signaling you to grab your own thigh with one hand as he unzips himself with his now free hand.
You’re at a lost for words when his cock springs from its confinements, all thick and long, too many veins to count, his tip pink and leaking a considerable amount of precum. He pumps it twice, before slapping the back of your thigh cruelly. You cry out, eyes stinging with tears as Bakugou bites his lip and cocks an eyebrow at you.
“Asked you a question, slut.” Bakugou snaps, pushes your hand away to close your thighs so he can rut his cock in between them. His tip grazes over your clit, makes you jolt in place as you fail to suppress a moan.
“Wha?” You slur, eyes starting to cross as he pushes his hips down to make sure his veins catch your slowly swelling clit. Bakugou laughs at you, pulls his hips back far enough so that his head catches on your leaking hole without pushing in. He looms above you, pushes your legs to the side slightly so he can get a good look at your already fucked out face.
“I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already lookin’ dumb. That desperate to get a taste of a yakuza bosses dick?” Bakugou whispers, waiting for you to open your mouth to speak to finally push the tip of his cock inside. You groan instead, eyes rolling in the back of your head with the lack of preparation. It already takes a toll on the both of you.
“Shit, you’re tight,” He grunts, wraps both arms around your thighs as he forcefully shoves the rest of his cock inside of you. It makes a disgusting wet smack when his balls hit your ass, your piss and slick, his precum, all mixing together to make the slide just the tiniest bit bearable. It’s still too tight as you scream at the burn of the stretch, hands flying back to grab at the edges of his desk.
“W-wait!” Your scream is ignored as the yakuza boss pulls his hips back to snap them back inside of you. You cry out, eyes clenched shut at the force of his thrust that sends you sliding slightly across the desk. Bakugou just groans, gives a few more testing thrusts before starting to fuck you with earnest.
It’s sloppy, wet and loud—just the way the boss likes it. He gets tired of the position fast though, and opts to spread your legs obscenely wide so he can watch his thick cock split you open. So he can watch the puddle underneath your ass that still drips every few seconds onto the floor, onto his expensive shoes. So he can watch the way your lips suck his length in, how your clit twitches with every pump inside of you. He groans, keeps your thighs spread with his waist as he leans down to take your mouth.
The kiss is sloppy too, all tongue and teeth and drool as Bakugou claims your mouth over and over again. He runs his tongue along your gums, nips at your bottom lip, chuckles into your mouth at your whine and gasp. His rough fucking only speeds up at the tiny little sounds you keep making, like you can’t seem to catch your breath at the feeling and velocity of his cock.
He pulls back slightly so his face hovers over yours, lets go of one of your thighs to grab your jaw in his hand. He forces your mouth open, drools out the fattest glob of spit onto your waiting tongue, swoops down to swipe it from your tongue before you even get a chance to swallow. Your free leg wraps around his waist, prompting him to let go of the other leg so both could cage his canting hips in.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groans against your mouth, eyes half lidded as you both watch each others face flush and eyes flutter and breath stutter in your chest. You can tell he reaches down to grab his long lost gun, but you don’t bat an eye as he brings it back to your face. You’re sure he won’t kill you, but that doesn’t mean he still won’t have some fun with the weapon.
“Suck my Glock.” Bakugou rasps, runs his swollen lips across your tear stained cheek. You choke on your breath, eyes widening as you watch the gun hover over your mouth. You meet in the middle, stick your tongue out, taste the cold metal on your tastebuds. Bakugou pulls back slightly to watch, groans at how you cut your eyes at him and close your lips around the barrel. Your cheeks hollow as you suck, let your head bob slowly down the gun, keeping eye contact the entire time.
You can feel his cock twitch inside of you violently, making your cunt tighten in response. You both moan, as you let your eyes slip shut so you can focus on the sensation of the cold metal stretching your mouth wide. Bakugou curses under his breath as he starts to piston his hips inside of you.
“Shit, girl, bouta make me bust in no time,” he grunts, leans back slightly to watch you suck the gun down until your mouth meets the outside of the trigger. You let your mouth open, slide your tongue around the orange trigger to flick slightly at the thick finger that rests there. Bakugou watches with rapt attention, growls as you pull back slightly to repeat your trick.
“Shit shit shit!” He thinks belatedly to rub your clit with his other hand as he starts to cum inside of you. He fills you up with rope after rope, lets the dirty squelch of your cunt push him further into his orgasm. You meet him with your own orgasm a few seconds later, as he thumbs furiously at your swollen clit. You moan heartily around the gun, let the barrel sit heavily on your tongue as your eyes roll into the back of your head.
Bakugou watches you come down from your orgasm, pulls the black and orange gun away slowly, groans at the saliva that connects you and slaps against your chin. He wipes it off slowly on your still heaving tits, leans down to press one more rough kiss against your mouth. You feel boneless as you lay there, let Bakugou rub the feeling back into your sore muscles as he speaks into the skin of your sweaty neck.
“Gotta get you cleaned up, princess. Introduce you to my clan, get some food in ya. Get you dressed and pretty, maybe go for another round after. How’s that sound, sweetheart?” He asks softly, pressing kisses to the skin.
You can only lay there and wonder how the fuck you can get away from the Bakugou clan and back to your own boss, Tomura Shigaraki. Fuck.