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Take It Out On Me

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Shinsou had never been more thankful for his Sensei's approach to letting him patrol now that he was a third year and capable. Namely, that he was alone. And, since he was alone, he could watch the scene below him in the alley. 


A boy who looked only a year or two older than him had his hands fisted in black hair, hips driving into the slack mouth in front of them. There's a string of filth falling from the older teen's tongue, degrading slurs and names that Shinsou had never heard in polite company. 


And wouldn't be hearing now if not for one tiny detail. The hair that the older teen gripped was not truly black, no, that hair should be blonde and spikey. Because even disguised as he was, Shinsou would know those shoulders, that tiny waist, anywhere. He had been pinned by those arms too many times to not recognize them. And so Shinsou watched, a vague feeling of guilt for doing so brushed away by the stronger feelings of curiosity and arousal. 


The foul mouthed male finished, spilling down the throat of the one on his knees and then shoving him away. When there comes a rasping plea, the foul mouthed male turns back from where he was walking away, "Sluts can get themselves off or have nothing." 


Despite the verbal abuse Shinsou had just witnessed this man be put through, he half expected some sort of fight, but no, the one still on his knees only undoes his fly, pulls out his dick and starts stroking. The foul mouthed male laughs, an ugly, cruel sound, and walks away. 


Shinsou waits until he's well out of sight before soundlessly dropping down. He lets his steps be heard and the kneeling male starts to say, "Knew you'd come back fuckface, I'm impossible to-" 


Shinsou smirks as Bakugou cuts off, a look of horror on his face as he sees just who is standing in front of him. Shinsou finds himself disappointed to see contacts making usually crimson eyes brown and muddy. Bakugou hurriedly tries to stuff himself back in his pants but Shinsou steps on his crotch, boot heavy against hand and cock, "You're impossible alright. Walking around so high and mighty. Wonder what would happen if our classmates knew how easily you could be brought low." 


Anger flashes in his eyes and even though it's not the fiery red, Shinsou finds that he really likes that sight, Bakugou angry, on his knees. His mouth works, several moments passing before the fight seems to go right out of him and his shoulders lower, voice a well used rasp as he says, "Please don't tell them." 


Well now, if Shinsou liked the sight of those eyes flashing, that anger painted across his expression while he looked up at him? This knocks his breath away. "Mm." Shinsou hums, smiling, "I do like it when you say please." His head tilts, "Do it again."


Bakugou glares, furious again, but trapped, as he says through gritted teeth, "Please don't tell them..." 


Shinsou really had no intention of telling them. He was the last one to out anyone for anything. But the blonde had avoided him as much as possible, even though Shinsou was a part of his friend group. So he doubts Bakugou knows or believes that. 


Shinsou leans down, enough pressure put on the hand under his boot that Bakugou hisses and jerks it away, leaving his twitching, hard length the only thing under the tread. Shinsou grips his chin, tilting his head up to properly meet his own dark eyes, "I'm not quite sure I'm convinced. So here's what you're going to do. You're going to go back to the dorms. You're going to clean up, and you're going to kneel in my room. You're not going to touch anything. You're not going to do anything but kneel on my rug. Is that understood, Bakugou?" 


He sees the moment the fight goes out of the man, sees the moment he gives up and it goes to his head like a heady rush of adrenaline. Bakugou nods against his hold, sharp and forceful, "Clothes or no?" 


Shinsou bares his teeth in a feral grin, "None. Though you are permitted a blanket if you're cold. There's a few on the foot of my bed." 


Bakugou meets his gaze, the contacts hiding some of what was going on in his mind, he snarks, "So considerate."


The snark made him unreasonably happy, and he knew plenty of others who would have rewarded it with a removal of the allowance for the blanket, with a backhand, or other such physical discipline. And maybe if he knew Bakugou's kinks better he would. As it was, he wasn't coined a silver tongue for nothing. He releases him to pat his cheek, "There's a good little slut." He removes his boot and straightens, doing his best to ignore the hazy look in Bakugou's eyes, "Now hurry up. I expect you to be clean everywhere by the time I return." 


Bakugou merely nods, tucking his still hard length away before standing and heading out. Shinsou watches him for a few moments before he leaves. Anticipation thrumming in his veins. 


Shinsou had taken nearly two hours to get back to his dorm, twenty of those spent thoroughly showering. So when he enters, hair damp and limp, he's pleasantly surprised to see Bakugou awake and kneeled where he told him, one of his blankets wrapped around him. The blonde spikes are dry and the dye or whatever color is washed away. And those awful contacts are gone, leaving behind that pretty red for Shinsou to watch.


Bakugou glares, mouth opening but Shinsou doesn't let him speak, "Ah, no. From this point onward, you don't speak unless I speak to you first." He holds up three fingers, taking one down every count, "One. I'm not using my Quirk on you. I won't. Two. If you want to leave at any point, you're free to. Three. I won't tell anyone about your dirty little secret. So if you stay, it's because you want what I'm offering." Fingers dropped, he watches Bakugou, watches him process. And then, he watches him open his mouth to speak before shutting it and looking at him, annoyed, but clearly following his rules. Shinsou smiles, "You may speak." 


Bakugou huffs, but his voice is practically gravel when he asks, "And what exactly are you offering?" 


Shinsou takes off his shoes, placing them by his door before padding over to Bakugou, standing in front of him and forcing him to crane his head back, "I'm offering you a chance to get what you need without resorting to nasty alleyways, to idiot men."


Bakugou glares up at him, "How the fuck do you know what I need? I don't just need you to spout bullshit insults." 


Shinsou shushes him, oddly gentle. He reaches to grip his chin, head tilting as he surveys, "I'm glad you realize that. Means you've done your research. I have also done my research. And I happen to enjoy sadism, in all forms. And you? Are a masochist if I've ever seen one. I have yet to figure out if it's only mental. If you want to try this. We'll be having a proper discussion after.... I have a feeling we're both too pent up for it right now."


Bakugou hadn't jerked away from him, but the anger still lit his eyes. Behind that however, Shinsou could see the longing. He idly wonders if Bakugou was always this easy to read. The blonde finally sneers, "Do your worst, mindfuck." 


Shinsou laughs, the sound low and dark, "Stoplight system. Don't complain." When Bakugou gives one nod for his agreement, Shinsou rips the blanket from him and his foot is thudding into the middle of his chest, shoving him down as Shinsou steps over him. His lips curve into a wicked smirk, "Roll over and show me your ass. I've already seen enough of that pathetic cock. I want to see if you're even worth fucking." 


Bakugou snarls, practically spitting, "You would be so lucky." But to Shinsou's delight, he's rolling over so he moves out of the way, only for Bakugou to lift onto his knees, chest on the floor. 


Looking over his form, in the privacy of his own mind, Shinsou agrees. If Bakugou actually allows him to fuck that tight ass? He'd be lucky. Outwardly, Shinsou draws back, a thudding spank landing across both cheeks causes Bakugou to let out the faintest yelp. Shinsou sneers, "Lucky? For what? To do the only thing you were made so well for?" He kneels, fingers gripping soft blonde strands as he pulls his head up, his lips brushing the curve of Bakugou's ear, "I should just fuck you in front of everyone. Show them exactly how lucky I am, hm?" 


There's no reply, not for a few moments. Long enough that Shinsou starts to worry before Bakugou grinds out a reluctant, "Yellow." 


And immediately Shinsou is loosening his hold, helping him back up to face him as he searches his face, "No talk about the rest of class?" Bakugou shakes his head, gaze dropped to the floor. Shinsou nods, "Noted. Do you need to stop?" 


Red eyes do jump to his this time, wide in surprise, "I.... What?" 


Shinsou furrows his brow, concerned by how off balance that question had made him, "I said, do you need to stop? Or are you good to continue, just in another direction?" 


Shinsou is the one studied this time, and he keeps his calm patience, not wavering before Bakugou finally answers, "We can continue. Just nothing about them ... or hero work." 


Shinsou pats his cheek, "Duly noted. Back how you were then, Bakugou." 


Bakugou blinks, surprise showing again in his expression; the kind of surprise Shinsou is still wary of. But he just obeys again, doing just that, ass in the air once more. Shinsou kind of loves how Bakugou's mouth is fighting him but his body betrays just how easily he wants to obey. His hands run up his thighs, over the curve of his cheeks, "What was it you were saying before? That I'd be lucky if you let me fuck you? I hate to break it to you, sweetcheeks, but you obeying me so prettily makes me think you just want to be fucked." 


An indignant noise comes from the boy on the floor, "You fucker!" Shinsou doesn't wait for him to continue, instead he grips his hair again, hauling him up so that Bakugou's back is against his chest. The snarl that sounds is music to his ears. 


His hand drops down the well formed chest, down over his stomach to grip his length. He slowly strokes, and he murmurs, low and oddly serious, "You don't have to obey. You can fight if you're wanting to." Bakugou's breathing stutters, and Shinsou smirks, "Not that I'm opposed to how you're acting now, but don't worry about getting physical. You know I can handle it." 


And Shinsou could, in sparring matches he and Bakugou would go back and forth on who won nearly as often as he and Midoriya did. Bakugou jerks out of his hold only to half turn and level a punch at him, Shinsou catches it, and backhands the blonde across the face hard enough for him to tumble back down.


Shinsou is there immediately, straddling him with a smirk, "Good try, handsome." 


He's hard and aching, pressed against the other male's hips so closely, he knows Bakugou will be able to feel it. He pins his wrists above his head, angry red eyes locked on his own. The sneer is firmly in place, even as Shinsou can see the red blooming from his backhand. Bakugou isn't phased, hips bucking up to try to lever him off but it only succeeds in making Shinsou moan out loud. A flush rises up Bakugou's neck, "Fucking... pervert." 


Shinsou can't help but laugh and grind down against him, "You're just as much one as me. Are you ready to stop fighting, pretty boy?" He puts as much disdain in that pet name as possible, making it a backhanded compliment without any of his words even suggesting such a thing. 


There's the softest whine, and Shinsou rolls his hips again, crooning, "Come on Bakugou.... Give into your instincts. You know you'll feel so much better when you obey..." 


There's an odd challenging look that overcomes him and Bakugou bucks up again, new strength nearly unseating Shinsou. Bakugou growls, teeth baring at the violet haired man, "Make me." 


And for a moment, Shinsou is at a loss, because it feels like Bakugou means his Quirk, but that's something he doesn't do. No, his high comes from getting people to give in without it. So he draws back to backhand the other side of the blonde's face, studiously ignoring the way his trapped dick twitches at the wicked moan Bakugou gives in response, "I don't need to waste my energy on someone who so clearly needs to be used." He clicks his tongue, and moves back only to flip Bakugou over. 


For truly, it seems that broke the blonde's decision to fight as he gives no resistance as Shinsou finds his lube, reaching blindly under his bed until he pulls it out. His other hand holds Bakugou by the back of the neck, forcing his chest against the ground. He drags out a condom next, opening it and setting it aside. It's difficult to get off the cap one handed, but he does. He tips the bottle over the raised ass, and he can't help the moan he gives as the viscous liquid hits the crease between firm cheeks. He sets the bottle down, fingers dragging through it before two of his fingers are circling the furled entrance. 


The whine that Bakugou gives is music to his ears, he savors the sound even as he pushes, not bothering to start with one. No. Two slick digits enter the tight muscle, sinking in just above the first knuckle as Bakugou hisses out a curse. Shinsou smirks, leaning over him, "You can take it can't you? I thought you wanted it to hurt..." 


Bakugou shifts underneath him, and even from his angle Shinsou can tell his breaths are labored, "Fuck you! I can take whatever the hell you can dish out!" 


And Shinsou can't help his croon of delight, "That's right... this pretty little hole of yours can and will take whatever I want." His fingers push deeper before withdrawing, steadily starting to work him loose without once touching his prostate. He continues his praise as Bakugou starts to relax, "Such a good little whore..." 


He's half startled to feel Bakugou's muscles twitch, the low and almost pleading whine from the blonde. But he can't help but latch onto it, "What? You like hearing what a good whore you are?" When no answer comes, Shinsou's hand tightens on the back of his neck just as a third slick finger pushes into him, "I asked you a question." 


Bakugou cries out, clenching around him even as a neglected length sways under him. He sucks in a shuddering breath before pushing out through gritted teeth, "Yes! Alright? Just... fucking... yes." 


Shinsou licks his lips, forcing himself to remain on the tight leash he had held himself on this entire time, "No need to be embarrassed, I said I'd take care of your needs. And that includes this one." His fingers crook purposely, timing the brush against his prostate with his next sentence, "I'm happy to tell you what a sweet, good little hole you have, how good it'll feel to use you." He stretches him a moment more before his fingers are retracted. Shinsou ignores his cry at being empty. 


He raises to shove down his pants. He rolls the condom on. He lines himself up before adding more lube and starting to push in. He sucks in a sharp breath as the head pops in past the rings of muscle. He swallows down what he knew would be an insanely loud moan, instead he forces himself to talk, knowing his voice had just dropped an octave or two, becoming more smokey honey than anything, "Fuck... you really were made to be a whore." He drinks in Bakugou's moan, the blonde not bothering to hide it now as he slowly sinks in.


He doesn't let up as he slides fully inside the blonde. Only once he's fully inside the blonde does he pause long enough to ask, "Color?" 


Bakugou pants against the floor, sweat glistening along his sinuous body. It's a moment before he can say breathlessly, "Green. Green, just... do it. Be rough." 


Shinsou takes that for the plea it is, holding onto his hip with his newly freed hand, "Oh don't worry... I won't be able to hold myself back from ruining you." He pulls out, half way only to surge back into him with a grunt. 


The hot tight muscle around him clenches and Bakugou practically howls as he sets a punishing pace. He gives nothing soft, nothing tender. All that consumes both of them is pure, animalistic need. And it shows in the bruises surely forming on his hips, on the back of his neck, bruises that would give away exactly what happened. And Shinsou can't help the excitement that brings. 


He wonders if Bakugou will be asked, what he'll tell them. He slams into him harder, "So good... you feel so good around me. What did I tell you, Bakugou? You're made so fucking perfect for this." Shinsou groans, hips tireless in his pursuit of please, "Taking me so fucking well... Nothing but pathetic, pretty little sleeve for me to use." 


Bakugou shudders under him, and his cry is possibly the sweetest one Shinsou had ever heard. He doesn't let him stop to enjoy it, no. Instead his fingers are in his hair, jerking him up so his back presses against his own chest without stopping his forceful pace. 


He tilts his head to the side, snarling, "Did you just get your filthy cum on my floor? I don't recall giving you permission to make a mess, whore." 


Shinsou can see light tear tracks on the blonde's face and he has to stop himself from licking them. Next time he'd make sure he could. The thought of a next time barely trips him up. Not with Bakugou crying out, babbling practically, "I... I didn't mean to. 'M sorry! I'm sorry!" 


Shinsou's hand, still slick with lube wraps around the blonde's half hard length, starting to stroke him with a cruel laugh, "I know you're sorry. After all, how could a helpless little whore like you help yourself? But since there's already such a mess...." 


His strokes match the timing of his harsh thrusts, more tears coursing down Bakugou's cheeks as the blonde begs, lost in the pleasure Shinsou is giving him. 


Shinsou breaks first, muffling his own cry against the blonde's neck. He buries himself, making sure the angle would leave his spilling length firmly pressed against his prostate as he continues to stroke. And it only takes a few more times before Bakugou is spilling on top of his previous spend.


The blonde sags back against him, eyes closed as the post orgasmic bliss takes him over. And Shinsou stays just like that for several seconds before he gets to work. He pulls out of Bakugou, not bothering to repress his smile as the blonde squirms. He sits the blonde on the bed before pulling off the condom carefully and tying it off, getting rid of it. He takes wet wipes to wipe up the mess on the rug to the best of his abilities and he wipes himself down quickly before moving to Bakugou. 


Clarity is starting to return to pretty red eyes as he watches Shinsou wipe his face and chest. Both boys are silent before Bakugou says, "You didn't have to do this. You could have just left me on the floor." 


Shinsou says nothing, dark eyes searching bright rubies before he finally says, "Aftercare is something a good Dom does. Regardless of what kind of Dom he is or who the sub is. Now lay down. You're going to relax with me until you're clear headed again alright?" 


Bakugou looks for a moment like he's going to argue before he simply nods once and moves back to slip under Shinsou's blanket. Shinsou cleans a few more things before sliding into the bed next to Bakugou who looks so uncomfortable at that, that Shinsou shakes his head. He shifts, beckoning Bakugou closer, "Come here. Skin to skin contact can help. And since you don't really have injuries to deal with, this will work." 


Bakugou doesn't question him but he's stiff as he settles against Shinsou, his head on his shoulder. A few moments pass before he asks in the quietest voice Shinsou had ever heard him use, "Why are you doing this?" 


Shinsou yawns, patting his arm, "Because sex makes me tired. Especially sex like that. And I need the aftercare just as much as you do. After a nap, I'll look over your bruises with you and we can talk. About this. If you want it to happen again and about contracts. And about the reason you seem so comfortable with the sex part of this and yet had no idea about proper aftercare." 


Bakugou's quiet for so long that Shinsou is nearly asleep before he hears the blonde mutter, "Fucking sap. Alright, I'll stay for your weird aftercare shit... and to talk about this happening again." 


Shinsou gives a crooked smile, "Good Kitten. Now sleep!" 


The sputtering protests at the endearment make Shinsou laugh even as he ignores them to drift off, honestly thankful for the chance at actually decent sleep.