Thread by @SpiderAfterDark

#BottomKiriWeek2022 Day 1: Dom/sub dynamics

+ Cw: krbk, humiliation (unintentional,) cumming untouched, implied underage (if we're going by canon birthdays, Kiri wouldn't be 18 until after graduation,) pillow princess kirishima,

Cw (cont): multiple orgasms (refractory periods? never heard of her,) sub space, crying, praise, aftercare, gentle dom bakugo (because i had a mighty need)

💥⚙️💦⚙️💥

Kirishima Eijiro has a bit of a problem.

Well, maybe 'a bit' is an understatement. Now, it's not the end of the world (probably.) And he's not in any sort of trouble (yet.) 

In fact, maybe it's not so much a 'problem' as it seems to be a curse.

Class 3A is currently in their final stretch of hero training - the last few months before they officially graduate. Everyone has been working hard, Kirishima included of course.

With tensions high and stress rampant, classmates find the only solace amongst the chaos is the brief moments they share in each others' company, whether it be lunch or downtime.

Only Kirishima hasn't exactly been able to enjoy anything like that - or rather, he's been actively avoiding it. Because lately, when people touch him, suddenly he finds himself uncomfortably hot and bothered, and is more often than not left to deal with a very blatant erection.

Okay, well, it's not just /any/ touch. For the most part. 

Hugs are usually fine. Simple handshakes and pats on the back are a-okay.

It's seems more directly linked to any sort of... /rough/ physical contact. Which is still frustrating, because Kirishima has to deal with this type of touch /daily./ He is working to become a hero after all -

- sparring and hand to hand combat are regular requirements - especially with his quirk.

It's just that lately, anytime he's pitted against his classmates, he unwillingly feels his cock twitch in anticipation.

And an already embarrassing situation only gets worse when someone pins him, or renders him immobile with their own quirk. He's just lucky no one has accidentally felt it yet (or they've been polite enough to ignore it.)

After training, he's left to hide his hardon from his classmates in the locker room. Thankfully his jockstrap conceals it for the most part, so he supposes it's not the /worst/ issue he could have...

But it's still /frustrating./ This has never happened to him before! In fact, it only started a few weeks ago. But instead of being a weird phase, the problem just escalated.

Now Kirishima has to avoid his workouts with Tetsu. All because the last time he went, Tetsu jokingly caught him in a headlock, and Kirishima /moaned./

Hanging out with the squad is also a no go.

Last time, Ashido started a tickle fight - nothing out of the ordinary, she plays like this with them quite often. Only when she set her sights on Kirishima, pinning him to the couch and tickling him so hard he couldn't catch his breath long enough to tell her to stop -

- Kirishima creamed his pants.

That's not an exaggeration - he came, only half hard, spilling a mess in his boxers. Thank god the sob that escaped his throat sounded like he was only trying to catch his breath against Ashido's onslaught.

The moment she gave him space, he excused himself quickly, trying not to waddle too obviously to his room. 

He figures the best way to handle these potentially awkward situations is just by... avoiding everyone all together.

Because what else is he supposed to do? He certainly can't/tell/ anyone. They'd probably be disgusted by him...

So Kirishima secludes himself. He eats his lunches alone, makes excuses whenever he's invited places, and if he can help it, stays holed up in his room for the time being. Until... whatever /this/ is has passed.

In the meantime he occupies himself by trying to find his own solutions.

He masterbates - a lot - bouncing on his favourite dildo until his legs give out and his balls are empty. He hopes that this might help deter his traitorous dick, if he's milked himself dry the night before. 

It doesn't.

He scours endless articles and self help forums, searching for someone who might be having the same issue. But most of his searches leave him empty handed.

He's barely made it into his fourth day of seclusion, reading an article about being "touch starved" (which still doesn't put a finger on his particular problem) when his door is being thrown open.

Kirishima startles, dropping his phone on the bed, and looks up in time to see Bakugo barging in and slamming the door behind him.

"Okay, shitty hair! You better fucking spill," he snarls the second they lock eyes, "What the fuck is going on with you?" And then just like that, Bakugo is stepping into his space.

Kirishima's frozen, eyes wide in shock, mouth open but not working. It feels like Bakugo is towering over him where he's still seated on the bed.

Bakugo doesn't wait for an answer. His head tilts, eyes dropping to the spot the phone fell - where the screen is still lit bright like it's trying to tattle all Kirishima's secrets.

And when Bakugo scoops it up, Kirishima moves all at once, panic sharp in his throat - but he's not fast enough. "Bakugo - no! Wait!"

He stands, following to try and reach for the device, and his wrist is caught under a deadly palm, keeping him at bay. Kirishima has to bite his tongue to stop the whimper that almost slips out. He's already preemptively crossing his legs.

"What is this?" Bakugo's eyes are quick - it only takes him a few moments to absorb the gist of the article. And Kirishima must know it's too late, because he's already hanging his head in silent shame.

Not about the article - it's actually rather innocent - about craving physical touch, whether in the form of hugs or cuddling. But Kirishima knows that this isn't why he was reading it -

- it's not even really close to his own issue, which is much more inappropriate, and certainly not something he's looking forward to sharing.

"Is this why you've been avoiding us? Why the hell didn't you say something?" Bakugo asks, but his voice isn't accusatory. Actually, it's bordering on gentle, the inital anger being picked away by hurt, which only makes Kirishima feel guilty. 

"No, that's not..."

"You think I - we don't care about you or something? If this is what you need, why didn't you just ask?"

Bakugo reaches up to grab Kirishima's other wrist, removing the hand that's trying to hide his face.

Kirishima feels his knees grow weak and he tries to press his thighs tighter together.

"Nn-no! That's not - that's not why I was reading it, okay?"

"Then why are you avoiding everyone?" Bakugo tugs on Kirishima's wrists - not hard - just firm, trying to keep his attention, urgent to get to the bottom of this.

But that's all it takes for Kirishima to choke on a shaky gasp, his hips jumping once on their own accord. He's trembling, eyes pinched closed so he doesn't have to look at Bakugo's face and the disgust that he fears is there.

Bakugo's not looking at him with any of that though. Actually, he seems confused for a moment, concerned as he readies to ask if Kirishima is okay. But before the words form, his eyes have landed under the waistband of Kirishima's sweats, where a small damp spot slowly spreads.

"Kirishima... Did you just - ?"

He did. He just came in his pants, right in front of his best friend, and he's mortified about it.

"- I'm sorry," Kirishima whimpers, biting his lip hard as he supresses a sob fueled with absolute embarrassment, tears already slipping down his cheeks. He still can't bear to open his eyes and Bakugo hasn't released his hold yet. "I didn't mean to - I just - "

"...It's okay," Bakugo assures, and Kirishima thinks he must be imagining how soft those words sound. "Sit down."

He directs Kirishima back until the backs of his knees touch the bed and he practically collapses onto it. Only when he's seated does Bakugo finally release his wrists, and Kirishima finds that he already misses the touch.

He expects Bakugo to leave, but instead the bed dips beside him, and his bleary eyes finally open in surprise.

When he dares to look at Bakugo, he finds a hard to read expression that's... focused. Bakugo is intently studying his friend's face, like he's trying to solve an equation, trying - /wanting/ to understand what's going on.

Something about that expression makes Kirishima feel... More comfortable. Assured, that maybe the judgement and rejection that he's so afraid of is exactly that - just a fear.

So, Kirishima takes a deep breath... and tells his Bakugo everything, all the way down to the messy details in the common room and the discomfort of training. And Bakugo listens, quiet but deep in thought.

Kirishima fiddles with his pantleg as he talks, trying to ignore the sticky feeling drying on his crotch. When he's finished, there's a short silence that feels like an eternity, enough time for his fears to edge their way into his mind again. Then, Bakugo speaks,

shutting those thoughts down.

"What's it like when that happens? What are you thinking?" he asks. Coming from Bakugo, those words have so much potential to sound sharp and judgemental, but instead they're just quiet and contemplative - genuine.

Kirishima thinks for a moment. Tries to recall what was going through his mind, but... doesn't come up with much. He shrugs. "Nothing really... It's hard to think, actually. It's like my brain just sort of... shuts down."

Bakugo considers this for another moment. "Maybe... You need someone else to be in control," he inputs, like it's simple.

Kirishima snaps his head up, eyes wide, because... why does that resonate with him? He doesn't fully understand it, and yet...

Bakugo catches this recognition, and figuring he's on the right track, continues. "Think about it: this year's been fucking chaos. Exams are hell, training has been upped to nightmare mode, plus internships - There's so much fucking responsibility on our shoulders..."

"So maybe what you need is someone to take the reins for a bit. Forfeit that power - you know? Maybe that's what your body wants."

Kirishima is quiet as he absorbs this, mouth parted in a silent 'O'. Most of his embarrassment faded with this new revelation, the pieces slowly clicking together. Then the next words from Bakugo's mouth make Kirishima's brain short circuit.

"If you want... I'll take it from you."

Oh. /Oh./

Kirishima searches Bakugo's face for a moment - for any sign of hesitance, and finds none. All he sees is serious certainty - which is what he should come to expect from Bakugo at this point. There's nothing he doesn't commit to.

Before he can weigh the meaning of this - that his /best friend/ just offered to help him with his... erectile problem, Kirishima finds himself managing a small nod,  his voice suddenly not working.

Bakugo's smile is subtle when he stands, hands sliding over Kirishima's shoulders when he leans down. Their faces are so close, but the intensity in Bakugo's eyes is far from intimidating... actually it's grounding.

"Needta hear your voice, Eijiro."

"Y-yes. Yes." he manages this time, eyes slipping closed as he's already leaning into and fully accepting that warm touch and wherever it might take him.

Hands known for destruction somehow only feel soft and inviting where they slide up his neck until they're cupping either side of his jaw. That hold becomes firm, but still gentle. Kirishima shivers, thinks he'd let those hands do anything to him.

"Before we do this, I need you to do something for me first," his voice has lowered to a place that Kirishima has never heard before. His tone is still undeniably Bakugo- a voice that demands attention. But the authority behind it is missing all traces of his signature hostility.

"You gotta give me a sign and a word - whatever you want me to remember. The second you don't want to do this anymore - neither do I." Where he's just begun to rub soothing circles against Kirishima's cheeks, his thumbs still and he squeezes lightly. "You understand me?"

"Y-yeah," Kirishima's voice cracks, the breath he releases shuddering past his lips. He's quiet for a moment and then, "Red. Red to stop." 

"And when you can't talk?"

"Tap... two taps."

"Good boy," Bakugo nods, and Kirishima can't help the small whine that squeaks from his throat when a warm hand travels down his neck, over his collar, then it's pressing down. But it feels more like he's being guided than pushed.

"On your back," Bakugo directs, until Kirishima's laying on the bed, his best friend now standing between his parted knees where his bare feet are still planted on the floor. "You trust me to take care of you?"

Kirishima's eyes finally crack open so he can look at Bakugo with nothing but sincerity where he's hovering above his body. "Of course I do," he manages to steady his voice this time.

And then those hands are sliding down, down, mapping over clothed muscles until fingers are slipping under the hem of Kirishima's shirt.

He gasps at the feeling, hands raising to hold Bakugo's wrists, or maybe guide them, he's not sure - but then Bakugo is grabbing /his/ wrists, and pinning them above his head.

"No, you don't get to touch me. Understand?" The command in his voice is thicker, but still not mean. Despite having cum already, Kirishima's cock is stirring back to life - the way his hands are now pinned above his head not helping.

But it feels good - for the first time, the reaction in his body feels welcomed. "Answer me, Eijiro."

"Y-yeah - got it," he whispers.

"Keep your hands there. Don't move unless I tell you to, or /I/ move you. Do you understand me?" He releases Kirishima's wrists, and he does as instructed, keeping them there.

He's not sure if he answers (he must of) but suddenly all he can register is his best friend's hands on his body again. "Let go. Stop thinking. Just focus on me - /feel/ what I'm doing," are Bakugo's guiding words as his fingers explore and fondle,

toying with Kirishima's nipples and making him bite his lip to stop the sounds that want to escape.

"I still want you to breathe though, Eijiro," Bakugo chuckles, and Kirishima inhales a shuddering gasp - he hadn't realized he was even holding his breath. "There you go, just like that. I want to hear every pretty sound you make."

Fuck - /fuck./ With his persmission Kirishima nearly /wails/, the filter broken as every pitiful sound slips out. He's so loud, and for what? Only the simple reason that Bakugo's playing with his body and he's not allowed to move.

Or maybe it's more than that... Whatever it is, it's enough to make everything melt away - the outside world stops existing. Only Bakugo matters - his voice and his hands. Kirishima might as well be a puppet, or a ragdoll, and he'd gladly become anything Bakugo wants him to be.

It takes whatever is left of his willpower not to buck his hips. Distantly he registers that Bakugo groans, and then he's pressing their bodies together, warm lips finding their way to Kirishima's neck and the side of his jaw.

He can feel the bulge of Bakugo's own cock, hard against his thigh. His shirt is rolled up under his armpits now, nipples erect and rubbing against Bakugo's shirt.

And that's all it takes for him to cum again, spilling another mess in his pants, voice strangled as he chokes on a sob.

"/Fuck/, Ei -" he hears Bakugo growl against his ear, and for a brief moment Kirishima fears that maybe he's messed up - that Bakugo is dissapointed in him. But the sound is actually appreciation, which is quickly followed by said appreciation being kissed against his neck.

"Gonna get you out of those dirty clothes." When he sits up, Kirishima blearily sees Bakugo's wet lips, and the eager but almost soft smile he flashes when he rolls his bunched shirt off the rest of the way.

Which isn't difficult since Kirishima still hasn't moved his arms from above his head. "Next time, I want you to cum on my fingers, just like that."

Kirishima's not entirely sure if 'next time' is now or later - until Bakugo is manhandling him onto his stomach. His pants and underwear are discarded somewhere Kirishima's muddled, blissed out brain is beyond registering. He's pliant and moldable beneath those hands.

Time and coherent thoughts are lost to him, yet he knows he's exactly where he needs to be as he's maneuvered to the center of the bed, the side of his face pressed into the sheets. His hips are lifted until his stomach is over Bakugo's lap, ass presented in the air.

A palm squeezes, spreads his cheeks - then something cold is drizzled over his hole, making his muscles twitch and his shoulders tremble. When did Bakugo grab lube? Not that it matters when the first finger is slipping past his rim.

This time Kirishima's hips move, trying to press that finger deeper - but that only makes it retract, leaving him empty. That same hand grabs the meat of his ass while the other wraps around the back of his neck, pushing his face further into the comforter.

Surprisingly, there's still no anger in Bakugo's tone. There's not even annoyance. "Stay still. Don't move," he reminds with a level voice, and Kirishima feels his body slump in response.

"Good boy, good..." he praises, rewarding Kirishima by slipping a finger back past his rim. His other hand travels up Kirishima's neck until it curls in loose red hair - not pulling, just holding.

Kirishima's eyes roll, mouth open in a silent scream as he's worked open - fingers intently prodding and curling until they find the bundle of nerves they're searching for. And that's when Kirishima seems to remember how his mouth works.

He mewls, pants and whines. Even though he's already cum twice - which has left his body so sensitive and raw - his cock hangs hard once more against Bakugo's thigh.

"That's it, good job," are the growls of Bakugo's encouragement mixed with the slick sound of a second finger slipping alongside the first, "See? Just gotta let me take care of you."

Kirishima can barely register what's being said, he just knows it sounds so /right,/ and his body is ready to accept whatever he's given. When he tries to say something - he's not sure what - it's unintelligible and tumbles into a wet moan.

"You have no idea how good you look like this, do you? How pretty you sound? Fuck, Eijiro." A third finger slips in, Kirishima is drooling against the sheets, panting ragidly.

"C'mon - you can cum for me again. I know you can - " and then Kirishima's gone, crying out as he spills hard over the thigh of Bakugo's pants.

He doesn't stop pumping his fingers until Kirishima's sobbing below him, body twitching under his hands. He continues to talk him through it.

"There you go. Shh, that's a good boy. God, you're perfect..."

When he removes his fingers, Kirishima's hole is left empty and twitching. The hand in his hair combs through the strands, brushing them from his sweat damp forehead and wiping the tears from his cheek, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

"Think you can be a good boy a bit longer and cum on my cock?" 

Kirishima whimpers, hoping that's enough to convey that yes - god /yes/ he can - or he can at least try.

"Use your words," Bakugo reminds, continuing to pet through his hair in encouragement.

Kirishima swallows thickly. "Yeah - y-es," he croaks, "Pl-ease." He's not even sure how much more he can handle - he just knows he wants Bakugo. /Needs/ him.

He catches the flash of a smile over his shoulder - Bakugo clearly pleased by this answer. And then he's being moved again - rolled onto his side, one leg hoisted effortlessly into the air and hooked over Bakugo's shoulder.

He watches under lidded eyes as Bakugo frees his reddened cock from his sweats, tucking the waistband under his balls. And then he's sinking into tight heat. Kirishima can't help but toss his head back on a silent scream.

The movement is either missed or forgiven, because Bakugo doesn't comment on it, too enraptured by the view of Kirishima's rim stretching around his cock.

And when he bottoms out, his eyes flicker back to Kirishima's face, where his head has lolled to the side, eyes wet and breath stuttered. Hair is stuck messy to his forehead and his cheeks are dusted pink. He looks completely wrecked and absolutely fucking gorgeous.

"Wish you could see yourself," Bakugo drawls with the first thrust - which is slow and drawn out, recieving a gasp from Kirishima. "Like fucking sin. God, Ei - " Another thrust, a little sharper.

"You're so tight - pulling me in," he hisses, leans forward, bending Kirishima's leg nearly in half, their faces hovering close.

Kirishima whimpers, his fists curled in the sheets. He tries to blink the bleariness in his eyes away so he can see Bakugo clearly, because right now he's the only thing that exists in this moment - the only thing that matters.

The grind of his hips and the stretch of his cock hitting Kirishima's prostate.

The firm hold when he takes Kirishima's wrists again, pinning them against the pillows above fanned, red hair.

The gravel in Bakugo's voice when he praises him, telling him how good he is and how he's everything he needs.

The sound of the name "Katsuki," crying from chapped lips.

The feeling of Bakugo spilling deep and Kirishima following a moment after.

That's all that matters - nothing else.

And when Bakugo is closing the space between them, catching their lips together - Kirishima thinks that this actually matters a little more. He melts underneath Bakugo's weight, letting him take the lead - direct him, just like before.

Once they part, Bakugo cleans them up and helps Kirishima redress. Because even though he's been given permission to move at this point, rewarded with endless praise for being so good - his body still feels heavy, and his head fuzzy.

But that's okay, because once they're both clean, Bakugo is laying down and pulling Kirishima firmly against his chest. He pets his hair and mumbles against his forehead - Kirishima's answers are slurred or simple nods. 

At least until he returns to himself.

Where the world around him was distant and forgotten - it slowly comes back into frame.

Where he could only hear Bakugo's heavy breathes above his head, and feel the air tickling his hair. Now he can hear the distant tick of the clock on his wall, and the hum of the ceiling light.

Where he could only feel strong, secure arms wrapped around his sides, and stubble scratching lightly at his temple. Now he can feel the dip of the mattress, and the softness of his comforter.

Around him, the rest of the world comes into focus alongside Bakugo, and he feels a conflict of grounded and sad. But also, weirdly refreshed.

His loose hold around Bakugo tightens, making him grunt - then Kirishima is pulling back, turning his chin up to meet red, questioning eyes.

"Can we do that again sometime? Maybe not right now, but, you know... again." 

Bakugo scoffs at that, but he's smiling. So, the answer is yes.

And as it turns out - Bakugo was right and that was just what Kirishima needed. He no longer finds himself cumming in his pants, or trying to hide boners around his classmates.

Or, at least not around /most/ of them - sometimes he still finds his body reacting this way around Bakugo, though he thinks that might be for a different reason...

The plus side? Bakugo is more than willing to help him out with his little "problem" whether it be in the locker room or between classes. 

It comes as no surprise when they start dating shortly afterwards.

💥⚙️💦⚙️💥 FIN 💥⚙️ 💦⚙️💥

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