Thread by @gardeng0blin

A Small Favour #kacchako #bakuraka #dynavity
-rated M
-Camgirl Ochako
-Pro Heroes

/Ball up, Ochako./

She squeezed her eyes and fists shut, steeling her nerves. She could do this. She was confident. She was cool, calm, and collected.

https://twitter.com/KacchakoPrompts/status/1470705308473331714

She was a bad bitch with a favour to ask, and he was totally lucky that he was the first person that came to mind. He would be thanking her for this. This was an /honour/ and a /privilege./

Yeah. Right.

She was just waiting for him to be alone, she told herself. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed. She wouldn’t feel shame over this. It was a perfectly acceptable way to make some extra cash, and so what if it was shocking or lewd or whatever. She was a grown-ass woman!

It was only a secret because she valued discretion and anonymity.

What would the world think if they knew Uravity, #12 ranked rescue hero in Japan, was a camgirl?

They wouldn’t think anything of it, because they would never know. It was her secret.

And maybe his secret, too. If she ever got the balls to just ask him already.

Finally—though, she wasn’t sure if it was good for her or bad—the overenthusiastic intern who’d been hounding Bakugou for the last fifteen minutes finally got spooked away by his crackling fingertips.

Here was her chance.

Maybe she ought to regroup, though. This was a delicate subject, and she would need to approach it carefully—

“Oi! Stop fuckin’ lurking, Cheeks. S’creeping me out,” he barked, barely glancing at her over his shoulder before returning to his tea.

Ochako tittered nervously as she stepped out from behind the wall that she most definitely was not lurking behind, thank you very much. Bakugou glared at her over his obnoxiously orange mug as she sat across from him. She stared back, silent and sweaty-palmed.

“So?” he burst. “What the fuck do you want, then?” He punctuated his question with an angry slurp of piping hot tea. She winced as though it had scorched her tongue instead of his.

“I—I have a, um—I need your help—you see, it’s kind of funny, I have this thing—"

"Well, I guess it’s not funny /ha-ha,/ but funny, like weird—not weird, but surprising? Like I guess it’s not something—”

“The hell are you talking about?” Bakugou interrupted, his face contorted in angry bemusement.

Ochako spluttered helplessly. This was going horribly wrong. She should have made cue cards! She’d never been so woefully unprepared in her life.

“I don’t have all damn day, Round Face, fuckin’ spit it out, or beat it!”

When she just stared back at him blankly, his lips curled and he rolled his eyes.

“Tch. Wasting my damn time,” he grumbled, forcing his chair back noisily as he got up to leave.

The notification bubbles she’d been receiving over the last month popped up in her mind, the demands for more, the endless requests for her to do /more./

“I need you to fuck me!” she blurted, inelegantly and definitely a little too loudly, but she kept her eyes fixed on the seat Bakugou had just vacated and absolutely refused to look in his direction.

Maybe she was lucky and all the blood rushing through his ears with rage muffled the sound of her voice.

/“...Hah?!”/

Still holding out hope that he hadn’t heard her.

“Oi!” he shouted before she felt her chair lurching sideways, pivoting on its back legs until she was turned toward him, his face hovering closely in front of hers as he leaned over her. “The fuck did you just say?”

“I—I-I said…”

Bakugou’s eyebrows twitched, his jaw clenched, and his arms flexed on either side of her as he clutched her chair tighter.

/Ball the fuck up, Ochako!/

She gritted her teeth and ignored the heat pooling in her cheeks as she boldly met his eyes again.

“I said, I need you to fuck me,” she said, clearly and confidently, even as heat crawled up her neck. “On camera, to be specific,” she threw in.

She had never seen Bakugou stunned speechless, and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t satisfying to be the one to do it to him.

His eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared behind his hair, and she was bracing herself for his angry refusal.

“You some kind of pornstar or somethin’?” he grunted, scrutinizing her carefully.

“It-it’s less of a production but…something like that, yeah,” she admitted.

She wasn’t sure why she didn’t feel embarrassed admitting it to him. Maybe it had something to do with the way his eyes drifted down from her face to her body, calculating, before he gave one sharp nod, as if he approved.

It freaked her out when he went silent. Why wasn’t he telling her what he was thinking? It wasn’t like him to hold anything back.

“I usually do, like, solo stuff,” she explained, just to fill the silence. “But my—um—fans,” she blushed when he raised an eyebrow at that.

“My viewers,” she corrected. “They’ve been asking for, um, partner…stuff. Sex. With a partner. A man.”

Bakugou didn’t look convinced.

“A hot man,” she added to win his favour.

Suddenly, he leaned in closer, the smell of nitroglycerine rolling off his body, making her dizzy.

“So, you need a sex god to make you scream on camera so a bunch of losers can get their rocks off?” he asked, his smile borderline feral.

She wouldn’t have phrased it that way, but she didn’t correct him. She just nodded.

“Aight, bet.”

And just like that, he was halfway across the room, his back to her as he headed toward his office.

“S-seven o’clock at my apartment!” she called out after him.

/Aight, bet?/ Did he think this was some kind of a dare?

In any case, Bakugou was riled up, and a riled up Bakugou would inevitably lead to some interesting developments.

Ochako felt a tickle of nervous excitement crawl down her back. She could hear the chimes of her tips rolling in already.