Thread by @local_hermitt, idea @_kurozen_ and i have been thinking about lately so bakugou is [...]

idea @_kurozen_ and i have been thinking about lately

so bakugou is a the top student at a prestigious boarding school (think tucked in shirts and ties, and high socks with belted shorts) he also wears his hair combed for immaculate appearances

Bakugou is from a well known and wealthy family, but due to his strict upbringing, his insecurities manifest as manipulation rather than anger because he has learned that beating the shit out of other students is only fun

when he crushes every shred of the other persons pride so that they are too scared to act against him or dare tell their parents (most of who are well known CEOs) he also knows that having leverage is a sure way to keep any outsiders from interfering

basically bakugou just wants all these top ranked students from prestigious families beneath him, grovelling at his feet so that when he takes over his parents company he'll be the best of the best.

enter kirishima eijioru. sports scholarship student, son of a no-name trader or something, (all scum are the same to bakugou) Kiri struggles with his grades but has to work hard because failing means he loses his scholarship.

while the uniform looks perfect and powerful on bakugou, it wears kiri like a kid playing dress ups. his tie is always knotted messily, shirt unironed cos he only has one uniform set and just washes it every day etc.

on kiris first day he makes the mistake of insulting the one person everyone walks on eggshells around. kiri sees bakugou delegating everyday tasks to his little enterage of followers

like one will race to get him lunch, another will read him the market stocks, and kiri doesnt like people who use others! he doesnt care who bakugou is, hes never even hear that name before!

well well, bakugou does not take kindly to insults, but the teacher just walked in and bakugou has very important appearances to keep up, so he smiles and treats kiri like some friend whos only too right. theyll make great friends he says.

kiri being the friendly guy he is thinks that maybe bakugou is actually a good guy ;D bakugou goes on to be friendly for a while around kiri and everyone else whispers about bakus new victim/toy but kiri doesnt pay attention to gossip

its only when kiri starts failing test after test, like not even low scores, just complete zeros! that his life starts to turn upsidedown. kiri is totally freaking out, meanwhile bakugou is receiving perfect scores, hes the best in the class, heck, in the whole school

of course kiri knocks on bakus dorm after class and asks bakugou to tutor him, theyre friends, so it shouldnt be a big deal. bakugou smiles darkly and it sends shivers up kiris spine as the door closes behind him.

'of course i can teach you' baku says leaning back in his chair to appraise kiri, 'but youll have to do something for me in return.'

kiri wholeheartedly agrees, its only fair, friendship is about give and take so hes all friendly smiles right until bakugou tells him to

'get on your knees and lick my boots like the filthy dog you are'

kiri laughs because surely thats a joke, maybe not a good one...but bakugou doesnt follow up with anything, hes silent and his face is kinda scary. kiri takes an unwilling step back.

'you can leave but just know its too late to save your scholarship.'

'w-what?? but there's still the end of semester exam left, they cant-'

bakugou scoffs, 'really, your thick skull still hasnt put two and two together? you will get a zero on the next exam and a zero on the one after that and you will keep getting zeros until i decide you dont.'

kiri opens his mouth but no sounds come out. he cant believe what hes hearing, he doesnt know why bakugou would do that, but if bakugous the reason for his failing then he cant lose his scholarship, all he has to do is-

'go ahead. tell the teachers.' bakugou says before he can finish his thought. 'in fact, why dont you march into the headmasters office right this minute and plead your case+

go tell him that his most prestigous student is adjusting exam results of some scholarship extra. see how that goes for you. this school earns nothing from having you here. in fact, it costs money to keep you, like an animal, or rather a pet. its a farce really.'

kiris face twists with hurt, the more he hears the more his little world crumbles around him. who is this person? he isnt the bakugou hes come to know, who laughs at his jokes and offers him a seat at lunchtime.

bakugous lips twist into a gorgeous smile but it sends a shiver down his spine now that he sees bakugou for what he really is.

'you have a choice, dog.' bakugou says. 'leave this room and then this school. or stay and if you please me, i might just be willing to keep you around as my pet'

the books in kirishimas arms clatter to the floor but he hardly notices over the blood pulsing in his ears.

bakugou muses, 'im offering you a rare chance to move up in the world. you wont get another one'

kirishima stares at the floor, mind racing as he imagines the consquences of his expulsion. another mouth to feed at home. maybe hed have to take on an apprenticeship.

bakugou's words are like the devil in his ear. 'If you want to be a somebody, you need to have the right people backing you.'

kirishimas hands begin to shake. he swallows but his mouth and throat are dry. the right people backing him? kirishima can scent the silent threat under that statement.

what happens if he has the wrong people against him? what happens if he makes bakugou an enemy?

if what bakugou says is true, then this academy may as well be bakugous territory.

if thats the case...

kirishima raises his eyes from the ground and warily watches bakugou. he gulps, imagines himself kneeling, imagines himself l-licking his boots.

if he wants to be a somebody, he just has to push his pride aside, right? if thats how this society works then kirishima can play this game too.

bakugou has power. and kirishima needs power.

he takes shaky steps forward until hes standing before bakugous chair. he clenches his fists and grits his teeth, and with great restraint, he slowly lowers to his knees.

he refuses to look at bakugou but in his peripherals he sees him smirk. then bakugou crosses one leg over the other so one foot is elevated just above the floor far below kirishimas head height.

'go on.' bakugou says. his tone sounds midly amused but when kirishima glances up, he meets fiery eyes, glaring at him with manic intensity.

kirishima glares back right until he bows his head. his mouth is dry as he waits for bakugou to say this is all be some kind of sick joke.

but bakugou says nothing and kirishimas face flushes red right down to the back of his neck. his hands tremble as he places them on the floor either side of bakugous leg.

slowly he sticks out his tongue and licks the top of bakugou's shiny leather shoe.

'filthy mutt,' mocks bakugou, and the words are jarring enough that kirishima instinctively flinches back.

'i didnt say stop,' bakugou snaps, lifting his foot to shove the toe of his shoe against kirishimas lips.

Kirishima glares at him but permits the pressure of bakugou's shoe to push down his jaw, parting his lips.

'lick.' bakugou orders, glaring right back. and kirishima feels a muscle in his jaw twinge with derision.

He doesnt blink nor avert his eyes as he licks the toe of bakugou's shoe, and then the tread as bakugou shoves the bottom of his shoe against his face.

'fucking disgusting,' bakugou sneers and kirishima silently snarls, the pull of lips and teeth is hidden behind bakugou's shoe.

'i hope you know i walk into the toilets with these.' bakugou hums, grinding his shoe against his mouth. 'but i guess theyre still cleaner than whatever dump you came from.'

bakugou drags his wet shoe down his chin and presses it against his chest, pushing him to sit back on his haunches. then he drags his shoe down lower, and kirishimas blood runs cold.

kirishima breaks eye contact, eyes darting down. he grabs bakugou's ankle before he can press his shoe down on his crotch.

his fingers slide under the hem of bakugous trousers and easily circle his slim ankle but he doesnt touch skin, only premium quality woollen socks.

one arm is enough to stop bakugous leg from pressing lower, but kirishima knows its the wrong thing to do the instant he meets bakugous gaze again.

he barely registers the flash of movement before the hard leather of bakugous other shoe crashes into the side of his face, snapping his head to the side.

kirishima catches himself with an arm, releasing his grasp. he clasps his hand to is mouth and smears the blood dripping down his chin from where his teeth nicked his lip.

bakugou abruptly stands with a screech of chair on wood. he thrusts a shoe against kirishimas collar and presses hard until he shoves kirishimas back against the ground, pinning him with all his weight over his shoe.

kirishima reaches for his ankle to lesson the crushing pressure on his chest, but bakugou raises his other foot and intercepts his bloody hand, pinning his wrist to the timber beside him +

and winding his lungs with the entirety of bakugous weight distrubted over two points of his body.

bakugou crouches over him and grabs his jaw in one hand, squshing his cheeks together with nails digging into his skin.

'bad dog.' bakugou says, low and menacing. he tilts kirishimas chin up to see him properly and bakugous lip quirks threateningly at the corners. 'I did not give you permission to touch me.'

Breathing short and shallow, Kirishima meets Bakugou’s gaze. With his cheeks squished together he can’t open his mouth to speak, so he stays silent and watches wide-eyed as Bakugou sticks out his tongue +

and lets thick globs of saliva string down and splatter across Kirishima’s mouth. It continues to dribble messily until Bakugou retracts his tongue and wipes a hand across his mouth.

“Clean it.” Bakugou orders, barely above a whisper, and Kirishima stifles a shudder that creeps up on him from a coiling in his gut. Bakugou doesn’t move back, he doesn’t release his jaw either, he just glares and waits.

Kirishima understood the meaning of that order the instant it left Bakugou’s mouth.He gulps. Heart racing. He can’t think. He knows he shouldn’t mindlessly obey, he shouldn’t let this man walk all over him, but the tone of Bakugou’s voice is enough to have his lips parting.

He licks the spit from around his mouth, now cold from contact with the air. He can only taste blood in his mouth, the cold saliva mixes with his own and would be indistinguishable except he knows it isn’t his.

Bakugou’s hand on his jaw travels down to rest on his neck and his thumb presses down on his adam’s apple coaxingly. Kirishima obeys the silent command and swallows.

“You missed some.” Bakugou says and collects a string of saliva from Kirishima’s cheek and presses his thumb against him. Kirishima parts his lips and Bakugou shoves his thumb against his tongue and waits expectantly.

Kirishima doesn’t hesitate long enough to warrant a second command. The look in Bakugou’s eyes makes him purse his lips around Bakugou’s thumb. He sucks the saliva off and when Bakugou presses down on his throat, he swallows again.

“Good boy,” Bakugou muses, and this time, Kirishima fails to stifle his shudder much to his dismay. It makes Bakugou pause and appraise him curiously before wiping his thumb on Kirishima’s shirt.

When Bakugou speaks again, his voice is conversational, without emotion. “Get used to this. You’ll be doing much dirtier things from here on out.”

And with that, Bakugou rises, stepping over Kirishima’s head, and walks to the door. “Tomorrow, after class,” he says, pausing with the door open. “I’ll drill every last bit of knowledge into that thick skull of yours.”

Bakugou departs, leaving Kirishima on the floor of his fancy room, heart-racing and stunned. Slowly, Kirishima sits up. He wipes the blood and moisture from around his mouth, and in a daze, he stumbles back to his dorm, trying to process what the fuck just happened.

Kirishima doesn’t sleep that night, too busy replaying the previous afternoon over and over in his mind. He slips into slumber just before sunrise only to be startled awake by his alarm probably no more than forty minutes later. Ugh.

He dresses into his uniform and tries to flatten out the crinkles. His hair is mussed, his face is pale and dark circles are prominent under his eyes. He washes his face and does his best to pull himself together but he’s already dreading facing Bakugou.

He avoids breakfast, he isn’t hungry anyway.

In the hall outside his classroom, Kirishima hesitates. Yesterday this was so easy. Yesterday he’d been ignorant and he cringes every time he thinks about how naïve he’s been. Kirishima draws a deep breath.

He can do this. He’s repeated this like a mantra the entire walk to class. But he feels sick to the stomach. He doesn’t know what he’ll find on the other side of this door.

What if Bakugou isn’t true to his word and he gets kicked out of school? What if it is all a lie to make him embarrass himself and he’d fallen for it? What if Bakugou has changed his mind after yesterday?

Kirishima runs a hand down his face and tries to calm his shallow breaths. Thinking about this is pointless. Whatever happens, happens. There’s nothing more he can do to change that. With one last final breath, Kirishima slides open the classroom door.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting…For the chatter to stop? For all eyes to turn to him? For people to whisper and sneer at him? Kirishima’s eyes dart frantically around the classroom, but nobody cares about his presence.

It would be a regular school morning if Kirishima’s palms weren’t sweating like crazy. His eyes seek out Bakugou, turning straight towards his desk like he does every morning. Today, Bakugou’s already watching him.

Their eyes meet and Kirishima’s stomach lurches, bile rising in his throat and heat burning under his skin. He can’t pretend yesterday didn’t happen; he can’t pretend it was just a very unfortunate dream. Not when Bakugou is looking at him like that.

Kirishima quickly averts his eyes. Gripping his bag, he shuffles to his own desk, opens his books and resolutely keeps his eyes glued down.

He can feel Bakugou’s gaze boring into him, and his heart beats fast, his body tensing so much that his shoulders hurt. It’s an effort to keep his eyes down but he manages somehow.

It’s almost a relief when the bell rings and the teacher arrives. Except that it’s not really a relief because the whole time he’s waiting to be told his grades are shit and he needs to see the Headmaster.

It is the longest two hours of his life, pretending to be absorbed in note-taking while his mind frets about the imminent threat to his future. Bakugou could have told everyone about yesterday. Kirishima feared he would. But maybe this is just something between the two of them?

He didn’t expect nothing to happen. He didn’t expect his classmates to look at him no differently than yesterday. But maybe Bakugou isn’t as bad as a person as Kirishima has feared. Heck, they’d been friends until yesterday, right?

Even though he was waiting for it, the recess bell still makes Kirishima jump right out of his skin. He scrambles to pack up his books and nearly tips over his chair in his eagerness to leave the classroom.

“Kirishima.”

Kirishima freezes dead in his tracks. The voice isn’t loud, it’s a simple conversational tone, but it blows through him like a brisk northerly wind and turns his skin cold and shivery. Kirishima gulps. The door is just in front of him, a few steps more and he’d be gone.

He could pretend he didn’t hear but he knows Bakugou has seen him stop. Kirishima’s mind races with possibilities until he hears Bakugou’s voice drop an octave and everything stops.

“Come.”

An order. A command. Everyone knows the tone for what it is and whole classroom freezes, suffocating Kirishima with the silent tension.

Slowly, Kirishima turns to Bakugou and looks at him with wide and uncertain eyes. Bakugou’s face is expressionless, but his eyes are narrowed as though daring Kirishima to ignore him. It’s a test, he realizes. It will always be a test. Obey or be expelled.

A shiver runs up his spine, and Kirishima closes the gap, one mechanical step at a time.

“Yeah, Bakugou?” he asks, rubbing the nape of his neck, surprised his voice doesn’t waver. He forces a smile and hopes it doesn’t look as strained as it feels.

Bakugou takes a breath, feet kicked up on his desk. He doesn’t immediately answer, just runs his eyes down and up Kirishima’s body. Kirishima feels the presence of every eye in the room watching their interaction and he stands rigid like a soldier.

Bakugou licks his lips, mouth finally parting a little and Kirishima stops breathing as he waits to hear.

“Kneel.”

Kirishima’s stomach sinks into the floor. There’s a universal gasp, but nobody dares to speak, and Kirishima feels sick, his legs tremble, threatening to give way. They were going to do this here? At school? In front of everybody?

This is exactly what Kirishima was dreading. Heck, he’d almost convinced himself Bakugou wouldn’t do such a thing. But this is happening. Holy fuck, this is happening. Right here in front of everyone.

He doesn’t realise his hands are balled into fists until he feels the sting of nails biting his palms. And Bakugou’s eyes are fire, searing Kirishima as he battles to stay composed.

Kirishima drops his bag, it lands with a loud thud in the silence, and he slowly follows, shaky legs lowering himself to his knees. Whispers rise up around him as he settles into place on the floor beside Bakugou’s chair,

he has about as much importance as Bakugou’s bag, hanging off the hook on the side of his desk about head height.

Kirishima’s face flushes red hot right down to the nape of his neck, disappearing underneath his collar, and his ears are burning, his pulse warbling inside his hearing. He keeps his head down, tries to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

He knows the whispers are about him but he can’t make out what they say over the racing of his heart. Slowly, he peers up from under his brow at Bakugou, who remains expressionless except for the faintest ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Bakugou raises a leg from his desk and rests the sole of his shoe on Kirishima’s shoulder, and he tries not to glance between Bakugou’s legs, which are very open to him, as Bakugou presses down until Kirishima gets the gist of what he wants and lowers onto his hands as well.

Then Bakugou’s feet shift onto his back and Bakugou uses him as a footstool, almost immediately turning his attention to someone else and barking orders to see the market stocks.

Bakugou’s voice kickstarts the classroom and everyone starts going about their business like a normal day as though Kirishima isn’t under Bakugou’s feet on his hands and knees wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

This might just be the most embarrassing day of his life. Somehow this public display is far worse than yesterday.

The stocks mean nothing but numbers to Kirishima. He keeps his head down, staring at the ground. His knees start to ache pressed into the hard floor,

and his arms begin to shake after thirty minutes or so of kneeling with Bakugou’s legs resting on his back. He’s exhausted without sleep and food and the adrenaline of his shame starts to slowly wear off, so kneeling becomes a battle of endurance. A battle to keep from crumbling.

He starts debating whether he should speak up, let Bakugou know he can’t hold himself any longer, let Bakugou know that his body aches all over. He tries to make a sound around the lump in his throat, but Bakugou’s voice cuts him off before he even gets out a word.

“Kirishima.”

He tenses on hearing his name.

“Dogs don’t speak,” says Bakugou severely, and that’s the end of that.

After another ten minutes or so, Kirishima is on the verge of groaning or whimpering or anything to let Bakugou know he can’t take it anymore. Pride be damned. But then, thank the lord! He’s saved by the bell. It rings and not long after that, Bakugou’s feet slide from his back.

Kirishima raises his head and their eyes meet for a split second before Bakugou turns to face forward in his desk.

“Go,” he permits.

Kirishima doesn’t need to be told twice. Shakily he rises to his feet and slides into his own desk. If he wanted to disappear before, he sure as hell wants to disappear now. He feels exposed, in more ways than one. At least on the floor he wasn’t so visible.
-

Thankfully, Bakugou seemed content to ignore him for the remainder of classes that day, though, Kirishima wouldn’t call that much of a relief since he spent the rest of the day hyper aware of Bakugou’s every move and breath, and he still has study after class!

When class is released, Kirishima is dismayed to see Bakugou stalk out of the classroom first. He quickly packs up his things and hurries past the cafeteria to grab something to eat on his way to Bakugou’s room, hopefully moving fast enough to make it there not long after Bakugou

But when Kirishima walks down the fancy hall of the school dorms and knocks on Bakugou’s door, he gets no answer. He tries the handle, but it’s locked and Kirishima sighs, unsure how to proceed. He calls out Bakugou’s name but there’s no answer.

Kirishima starts to suspect that Bakugou actually hasn’t returned to his dorm yet...He desperately needs tutoring and since that is the whole reason this dumb ‘dog’ thing started, Kirishima is reluctant to leave so he hovers outside Bakugou’s room.

Bakugou will return, it’s just a matter of when…so Kirishima kneels in front of Bakugou’s room with his back to Bakugou’s door and waits.

He’ll be a damn good dog if that means he gets to stay.

Unfortunately, that also means Kirishima receives his fair share of weird looks and snickers from other students passing to their rooms. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all… or at least that’s what he starts to think until he raises his head and sees Bakugou approaching.

For some reason his stomach does an excited flip because finally the person he’s waiting for has arrived. But then he actually thinks rationally for a second and realises that no, he’s definitely not excited. Bakugou is an ass.

Kirishima quickly lowers his eyes and keeps them on the ground. The perfect portrayal of submissiveness and on his own terms too. He waits for Bakugou to say something, to smirk or remark about him waiting patiently on his knees.

But Bakugou fully ignores him, stepping past him as he unlocks his door and walks inside. Kirishima frowns. That didn’t go how he expected it to. He quickly turns around to follow but the door slams shut on his nose. He blinks, shocked. He has no idea what he did wrong...

He doesn’t have too long to think about what to do next before the door opens again and a bunch of notes are tossed onto the ground beside him.

“Read those and answer the questions. Call me when you’re done,” Bakugou says and when he sees Kirishima’s confused expression he rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Dogs stay outside.” And then the door slams shut.
-

With the exception of being forced to sit in the hall, nothing more happened during their ‘study’ session and Kirishima finds himself in his own room again, exhausted physically and emotionally from being on alert all day.

Somehow, he manages to get up the next day despairing less over his fate. He just has to make it through each day, and surely, it’ll get easier or he’ll find a routine or something.

He eats a big breakfast in the morning knowing he probably won’t get to eat lunch again. He’ll still need to get used to the way the rest of the class stares and sneers at him now, but at least, he was expecting as much...

When recess comes around, Kirishima walks straight to Bakugou after mentally preparing himself. He’s not an idiot who needs to keep being told or maybe he is an idiot for going through with this? Either way, he kneels at Bakugou’s chair on his hands and knees and waits.

He can feel all eyes on him and suddenly Kirishima is hit with a new thought. Was that possibly too assertive? Can one even be too assertive on their hands and knees before someone else?

The skin prickles on Kirishima’s neck as he silently waits for Bakugou’s reaction, just like everybody else in the class. It suffocating, and Kirishima almost regrets it, like maybe Bakugou wants something different today? He wouldn’t know. He only has yesterday to go on.

Bakugou’s chair groans as his weight shifts, two shoes appear in front of Kirishima, then Bakugou leans down close. His blond hair brushes faintly against his cheek and Kirishima nearly flinches back until words are whispered in his ear.

Kirishima goes rigid for a completely different reason than fear.

“Good boy.” Bakugou whispers, barely the faintest ghost of breath in the shell of Kirishima’s ear. Nobody else but him can hear it, and Kirishima’s breath catches in this throat.

It’s the first word of approval he’s heard from Bakugou. It’s the kind of approval he’d expected to hear yesterday but didn’t. He hasn’t yet figured out the rhyme or reason to Bakugou’s mood, but he thinks this is a win, well, until Bakugou kicks his feet up on his back..

It’s a win, relatively speaking.
-

[okay this be turning into a bit of a story, id say we are about half way through here]

also i hit 100 followers my dudes, thank ye <3

The third day is more of the same and Kirishima’s starting to think he can do this. Be a footstool during class break and study after school. He can’t say he’s losing out on much really. This little routine is doable.

That is, until Kirishima stops by the toilets after class, and while he’s washing his hands, four boys from Bakugou’s clique walk in (if you can call people who suck up to Bakugou a clique, that is).

Kirishima dries his face with a paper napkin and turns to leave, but as he tries to pass, one of the boys steps into his path.

“Excuse me,” Kirishima says politely, hoping they’re just trying to annoying him and nothing more.

“You’re excused,” the boy in front says without moving. He’s taller than Kirishima, but he’s not anything he can’t take.

Kirishima bristles knowing things might get tricky to deal with. He’s never been the greatest at manipulating people. If Bakugou were here, he wouldn’t even have to raise a finger, just breathe in their general direction and they’d turn tail.

“Um, I have somewhere to be. So if you want to talk, can we do it later?” he says, trying to keep his words calm but insistent. He can’t be late to Bakugou’s tutoring. He’s already pushing time stopping by the toilets.

The boy laughs and his friends start to back him up. “Dogs should get on their knees if they have something to say.”

Another boy hums. “I wouldn’t call him a dog. Isn’t he more like an object?”

Kirishima tries to leave again but the student blocking shoves him back, though Kirishima isn’t weak, so he holds his ground, then shoulder-checks the guy in passing.

“You can leave if you want, but we might just be annoyed enough to file a report against you for hitting me.”

Kirishima stops and turns around. “I didn’t hit-”

“Really? You sure? The four of us totally saw you hit me.”

Kirishima grits his teeth. If he was annoyed before, he’s fuming now. “That’s a straight up lie. I haven’t even done anything to offend you.”

“Your existence is offensive enough, and now that Bakugou has stopped playing friends, we can finally have our own fun.”

One of the boys grabs Kirishima’s hair and Kirishima hisses, grabbing the boys wrists to lessen the pull. “You can fight back if you want,” the boy says. “But if you do, the Headmaster will find out.”

“The same goes for you,” Kirishima sneers, tilting his head at an awkward angle so his hair doesn’t get ripped from his scalp. “You’ll be in just as much trouble.”

There’re sneers all around. “If the Headmaster expelled every student who got into a fight, he wouldn’t have enough students left to pay his salary. Though, I guess, you don’t pay anything to be here, huh? Scholarship students really have it rough.”

The hand in his hair releases him, and just as Kirishima straightens, he’s shoved backwards into the wall, then a boy grabs his either arm.

He immediately tries to shake them off but stops when a fist connects with his gut. He grunts, doubling forward as bile rises in his throat. For such a pompous looking brat, this guy packs a punch.

Kirishima gasps for breath and glares up through his dark strands hanging over his eyes.

“Surprised?” the tall boy asks, delighted. “I grew up with so many useless servants, so I’m an expert at putting people in their place.”

Without warning, a solid backhand slams into Kirishima’s cheek, snapping his head to the side and causing white sparks to dart across his vision. He blinks rapidly, feeling the throbbing on his cheek and knows that’s going to leave a mark.

“Hey,” one of the other boys speaks up, “careful with the face.”

“My bad,” the hitter says. “Just got a little excited.”

They proceed to use Kirishima as a punching bag, hitting the parts of him that are covered by clothes. Kirishima grits his teeth and takes it, trying his best not to show his pain.

He braces for each punch, he knows he can’t fight back, knows he should have ran when he had the chance. But it’s okay, he tells himself. He’s strong. He can take it. They’ll get bored eventually.

And they do get bored. Though just with the punching…They let his arms go, and Kirishima crumbles to his knees, gasping for breath. A hand in his hair cranks his neck back, and Kirishima is forced to look up.

He can’t help but notice how close he is to a boy’s hips, and a thought comes to mind and Kirishima feels his panic rising. Punching he can take, but nothing else. He would sooner get expelled.

Thankfully, before anything more can be said, some other students walk into the bathrooms and with a ‘tch’ the boys reluctantly step back, and start pretending to help Kirishima who ‘isn’t feeling very well’.

The close call is enough to have the boys get bored with ‘their fun’ for now, and they leave Kirishima on the bathroom floor where he shakily pulls himself together again, combing his fingers through his hair and straightening his shirt.
-

Bakugou is already waiting for him by the time Kirishima arrives at his room for tutoring. His expression is dark and unreadable, but Kirishima is too exhausted to be nervous about that.

“The fuck happened to your face,” Bakugou spits, clearly annoyed at his tardiness.

“Uh, I wasn’t paying attention and ran into someone,” he answers, and it’s not exactly a lie. He ran into several someones who just happened to beat the living shit out of him. He feels like he might have fractured a rib with the amount of pain he feels with each breath.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, accepting or just not caring for his answer, but today, strangely enough, he’s permitted to sit just inside Bakugou’s room as he does his study. It would feel like another small win if Kirishima didn’t already feel like the biggest loser in the school.
-

The mark on Kirishima’s cheek bruises deeply, much like purple blossoming all over his body. Luckily, his hair hides some of his cheek, and nobody really seems to notice except the teacher who he lies to and says it happened during training. Contact sports and all.

That lunch time, Bakugou decides he wants to eat in the cafeteria, which quite frankly, makes Kirishima’s already shitty day much worse.

He’s forced to kneel next to Bakugou’s chair at the head of the table, on display for anyone in the whole damn school to see, but apparently, it’s fine because it’s Bakugou, even the cooks turn a blind eye on him.

Bakugou doesn’t use him as a footrest at least. To be honest, Kirishima isn’t even sure what point he is serving right now. He glances around the room nervously until Bakugou turns his attention to Kirishima, losing interest in the conversation at the table.

Kirishima watches as Bakugou grabs a piece of chicken from his plate between his fingers and holds it just above Kirishima’s nose.

“Eat,” Bakugou orders, and Kirishima eyes the chicken then glances at Bakugou warily. This hasn’t happened before, but neither is it an order Kirishima is wholly against. Without thinking, he reaches with his hand for the chicken until Bakugou’s voice halts him. “Uh-uh.”

Kirishima glances back up at Bakugou and slowly lowers his hand. Tentatively, he tilts his mouth up and grabs the chicken between his teeth. Bakugou lets go and Kirishima pulls it into his mouth with his lips and eats it while a blush warms his cheeks.

He quickly glances around but the room is so full of people nobody really pays him much attention.

Bakugou hums, seemingly content, and holds another piece of chicken to his nose.

Kirishima doesn’t hesitate, though, he still moves with caution, and grabs the next piece between his teeth in much the same way. For some reason, he can’t help but feel like this is a privilege despite the fact that he’s literally being fed like a dog…

This whole power thing must be messing with his head. He shouldn’t feel this good about getting the barest amount of attention.

He catches Bakugou’s eyes as he watches him chew, and it sends a shiver down Kirishima’s spine because Bakugou /almost/ looks pleased. Kirishima doesn’t know why, but Bakugou’s expression spurs something inside him.

When the next piece of chicken is held to his nose, Kirishima leans forward just that much more and wraps his lips around Bakugou’s fingers as well as the chicken and slowly pulls it from Bakugou’s grasp with velvety pursed lips while staring him in the eyes.

Bakugou tenses, fingers turning rigid as he feels the heat inside Kirishima’s mouth and the moistness of his saliva cooling in the air. It’s a reaction that excites something in Kirishima.

Bakugou is always in control of his every movement, so this split-second loss of composure is a rarity, though he quickly recovers and turns back in his chair.

Bakugou calmly wipes his fingers with a napkin, then he stands, chair screeching back, and Kirishima knows licking Bakugou without permission was a bad move because Bakugou pours an entire bowl of hot soup over his head.

He doesn’t do it all at once, just a slow trickle that soaks Kirishima’s hair and runs down his face hot. It puddles on the floor and soaks his clothes head to toe; small drops even splatter onto Bakugou’s shoes.

Kirishima is shocked, and he wants to shift back, but the look in Bakugou’s eyes keeps him frozen in place. The bowl empties and Bakugou gracefully replaces it on the table, then he orders Kirishima to ‘stay’ before turning on his heels and leaving him there.

Fuck.

The other people at the table snicker, some of them being the ones who bashed him yesterday. They tease him in passing when they leave, and Kirishima regrets licking Bakugou’s fingers a lot more when the soup turns cold and clumps in his hair, soaking into his shoes and socks.

Bakugou doesn’t immediately return, he doesn’t even return when the class bell goes, and Kirishima seriously considers ditching and going to the bathrooms to clean himself up.

Maybe this is all a mistake. Maybe he can’t do this after all. Maybe he should have never enrolled at such a prestigious school. It’s clear that he doesn’t belong.

With a self-depreciating sigh, Kirishima decides not to move. He will if a teacher tells him to, but once class resumes, the cafeteria may as well be a ghost town.

He keeps his head down, and he swears he’s not crying, that’s just the soup irritating his eyes. He can’t even wipe them without smearing his face with more soup.

When he finally hears footsteps, Kirishima doesn’t look up. He just waits for whatever person it is to get him in trouble for being an idiot, but the shoes that come into view are undeniably Bakugou’s, there’s still dried specks from where the soup splashed on them.

Kirishima looks up like a lost puppy whose owner finally found them. “Come.” Bakugou says, and Kirishima doesn’t even have it in him to be angry because he’s just so relieved Bakugou didn’t leave him here all day. He's just so relieved that Bakugou came back for him.

Kirishima hurries to his feet, soup still dripping down his legs, and follows Bakugou still wearing his uncomfortably wet clothes.
-

Class is in session, but they don’t return to class. Instead, Bakugou leads Kirishima to the dorms, and Kirishima harbours the hope that maybe Bakugou will let him change his clothes. Though they don’t take the path to his room but to Bakugou’s instead.

Kirishima stops in the hall outside as Bakugou enters his room. He’s still dripping wet, though more air-dried than before.

“Quit dripping on the carpet and get in the damn shower,” Bakugou growls, and grabs Kirishima by his hair when he doesn’t move, dragging him into his room and practically throwing him into the shower, clothes and all.

The manhandling startles Kirishima more than it should. He’s a mess, and he’s so sure Bakugou is against getting his hands dirty.

The force of the shove causes Kirishima to slip on the tiled floor and he falls on his ass in the shower, barely catching himself against the wall before the back of his head hits.

He blinks up at Bakugou in time to see him unhook the shower nozzle and blast the water to max, hosing him down like a dog, spraying his face, his hair, his clothes with cold water until the heat system finally kicks in.

Bakugou is merciless and Kirishima scrunches his eyes against the onslaught.

“Strip” Bakugou orders, and Kirishima tenses. Bakugou lowers the nozzle to hose down his shirt and Kirishima opens his eyes, blinking wide.

“Don’t make me tell you again,” Bakugou growls. “Or I’ll make you clean every drop of soup on from my floor with your tongue.”

Kirishima doesn’t doubt that Bakugou would order him to do as much, but Bakugou is right there, just staring at him, fully clothed. Kirishima loosens his tie first, using that time to think it over. It’s an all-boys school, so it's not really all that weird, right?

Sliding his tie off, Kirishima starts unbuttoning his shirt. He makes it to the third button before he suddenly remembers that this is, in fact, a very bad idea.

His hands hesitate at the next button, but a quick glance at Bakugou’s set jaw, stops whatever protest is on Kirishima’s lips. He exhales a shaky breath and continues unbuttoning his shirt.

He averts his eyes and starts kicking of his shoes and socks, but he can feel Bakugou glaring at the dozens of angry purple bruises covering his torso.

He sees Bakugou move closer in his peripherals and glances up, but he doesn’t have time flinch before Bakugou presses two fingers into a nasty bruise on his rib cage. Kirishima hisses, jerking away.

“Just ran into somebody, huh?” Bakugou says darkly, and Kirishima hasn’t heard him use that tone before, doesn’t know what it means, but it sends goosebumps over his skin, and not the good kind.

He turns his head away, watching the water absently trickle down the drain, feeling a little ashamed. It’s not like he wanted to lie but the thought of dobbing them into Bakugou leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“Not gonna explain yourself?” Bakugou says again, the simple sentence duly threatening.

Kirishima swallows thickly. Mind racing, he opens his mouth to speak but he has no idea what to say. Saying nothing, however, is the wrong move, and Bakugou’s last thread of patience snaps.

“Who the fuck touched you!” His voice is sudden, aggressive and overwhelming, shocking Kirishima enough that he cowers back.

Kirishima had no idea such a loud voice could come from that pretty mouth, though he already knew Bakugou had a filthy repertoire.

The Bakugou right now is terrifying on a whole other level, so much that Kirishima stutters out the name of the boy who mainly instigated it just to calm Bakugou down.

Receiving an answer puts Bakugou at ease. He exhales deeply and runs his hand down his face before combing it back through his hair and resuming his usual cool demeanour. It’s almost a relief, right up until Bakugou says, “Hurry up and get naked.”

Kirishima’s jaw drops, but he clicks his mouth shut and starts unbuckling his belt, before drawing it off and undoing his pants. It’s not like he’s ashamed of his body, it’s just…boarding schools really are different, huh?

So Kirishima kneels stiffly in the shower, butt naked while Bakugou stares way too intensely as he continues to hose him off. A blush dusts his cheeks and creeps down his neck, and fuck, it’s hard not to be conscious of every single breath or movement Bakugou makes.

“Hold this,” Bakugou orders and passes him the shower nozzle. Kirishima grasps it, aiming it absently at the tiled wall, while Bakugou grabs a tube of shampoo and starts lathering Kirishima’s hair.

Kirishima’s head spins. This day is just full of shocking things and his heart can’t take it. But the scent of the shampoo is startlingly familiar.

It’s the smell of Bakugou’s hair that he occasionally catches a whiff of whenever they are near. Like when Bakugou leans into his ear and calls him a good boy…

Bakugou massages his head and Kirishima can’t help but lean into the touch. The fingers in his hair just feel so good that his lips part and a soft sigh slips out.

Kirishima tenses realising the sound he made, but Bakugou doesn’t seem to notice, so he relaxes again. He’ll gratefully accept whatever Bakugou is willing to give.

After being hosed off again and having his hair towel dried, Kirishima exits the bathroom, hair damp, a towel wrapped around his waist, feeling like being a dog isn’t so bad when his master pampers him like that. Almost makes the whole soup dousing thing worth it.

Kirishima hovers in the room as Bakugou turns to his desk and grabs something from its surface. As Bakugou returns to him, Kirishima eyes the thing in his hand, seeing it clearly when Bakugou holds it up.

Kirishima’s heart skips several beats and he gulps, almost baulks at the quality leather collar held in Bakugou’s hands. A dog’s collar. He feels his cheeks flushing already at the implication.

“You’re my dog,” Bakugou says. He steps in close, breath ghosting over Kirishima’s skin as he threads the collar around his neck, clasping it with delicate fingers. “You belong to me.”

The collar pulls tight, constricting just enough for Kirishima to feel the beating of his pulse. He gulps, feeling pressure as he swallows.

“Never take this off.”
-

Kirishima returns to his room that evening with three new uniforms. Bakugou had simply called the boarding housemother and demanded them, then Kirishima really had no choice but to accept them. Bakugou said he’d probably end up ruining more than a few of his uniforms anyway…

Laying in his bed, Kirishima can’t help but trace the collar around his neck. A lot has happened, and he’s exhausted but the collar feels too foreign and he can’t fall asleep. He knows he could take it off and Bakugou wouldn’t know any better, but for some reason, he doesn’t.

The next morning, Kirishima is relieved to learn his school tie and shirt rise high enough to cover most of his collar, only a sliver of black peeks out from the top, but it’s only noticeable on close inspection.

Thank god. It’s one thing for everyone to know he’s Bakugou’s dog and another thing to wear a collar in public.

He’s too conscious of it. Every time he passes someone in the halls, Kirishima glances at their eyes to see if they notice.

When he enters the classroom, his eyes meet Bakugou’s, and he’s sure Bakugou doesn’t even need to see the collar to know he’s wearing it because Kirishima’s face flushes a deep red instantly.

He sits down at his desk. Nobody knows. It’s a secret between him and Bakugou, and he feels a little giddy about it, as though he’s getting away with something naughty like wearing racy lingerie under his uniform or something.

Between class and following Bakugou that day, Kirishima finds himself without even a minute to himself. Usually on their journey to or from the cafeteria, Kirishima would be permitted to go to the bathrooms in passing so long as he catches up again right away,

but today, Bakugou is the one who stops by the bathrooms. He doesn’t permit Kirishima to enter so he’s forced to wait in the hall outside, but even when Bakugou’s done, Kirishima still isn’t allowed a moment to relieve himself.

Kirishima kneels by Bakugou’s chair again in the cafeteria. He hasn’t been used as a footrest lately, so he feels like he’s very slightly moving up in the world. Even more so when Bakugou recommences the food-feeding thing he did yesterday.

The worst part is that it’s not chicken Bakugou decides to feed him, but broccoli…

Kirishima nearly pulls a face as Bakugou holds the small tree to his nose. Bakugou doesn’t really expected to eat that, right? Like without any flavouring on it? Just on its own??

He looks up at Bakugou with the best puppy dog eyes he can muster, but Bakugou’s expression is unfaltering, so he sighs and reluctantly eats the broccoli from Bakugou’s fingers, being careful not to actually touch Bakugou’s fingers.

He chews it slowly, nose twitching as he fights the urge to spit it out. He forces himself to swallow it then looks up at Bakugou with puppy dog eyes again, eyes that beg Bakugou not to make him eat another broccoli.

And Kirishima’s almost sure that’s a smirk crossing Bakugou’s lips but it instantly turns into a scowl as he turns away and grabs a piece of broccoli…

Kirishima almost whimpers as he chews a second piece of the stuff, but then Bakugou brushes a few fingers through Kirishima’s hair and tucks a strand behind his ear. It’s a simple, almost affectionate touch, and it makes Kirishima jolt, eyes blown wide.

He swallows the broccoli whole, coughing as he nearly chokes on it, and Bakugou scoffs, but holds a glass of water to his lips, regardless.

Kirishima willingly gulps the liquid down.
-

After a whole lunch time of vegetable-eating torture, Kirishima sits in his desk and very quickly realises he needs to pee since he wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom at lunch.

He shuffles in his chair and tries to find a comfortable position. He avoids thinking about it, but that’s hard to do when the sensation just grows worse. He crosses his legs and wonders if he should just ask the teacher,

but he hasn’t heard somebody ask for permission to go to the toilet during class since grade school, so he decides he’ll hold it until the lesson’s done since there’s a free period right after this one.

The instant the lesson finishes, Kirishima rises to his feet, hoping to make a quick exit, but Bakugou’s voice cuts him off.

“Kirishima.”

Kirishima stops mid-step, and oh my god, this is like déjà vu. He debates his next move, he’s literally sweating as he tries to hold it in, but Bakugou doesn’t give him a moment to think.

“Come,” he commands.

Kirishima closes his eyes and lets out a silent groan before quickly turning back and kneeling at Bakugou’s chair. Bladder aching like crazy, his desperation takes over and he rests his cheek on Bakugou’s thigh and whispers so no one else can hear,

“I need to go to the bathroom. Like really, really badly.”

Bakugou’s thigh tenses underneath him, the contact sudden and unordered, and Kirishima flinches back and braces for a consequence, scrunching his eyes. But nothing happens. He cracks his eye open and peers up at Bakugou who appears coolly collected despite the tension.

“I’m aware,” Bakugou says simply, completely unconcerned about Kirishima’s near-bursting bladder. “But only good dogs get to relieve themselves in private.”

Kirishima gapes, a blush of shame creeping down his neck. “I am a good dog,” he insists, his voice cracking a little as he says it. Does that mean Bakugou intentionally hasn’t been letting him go to the bathroom?

Bakugou hums leisurely, taking his time to respond as though every second doesn’t count right now. “Good dogs don’t lie to their masters.”

Oh. Kirishima deflates, shoulders collapsing in on himself. Bakugou can’t seriously be punishing him like this, right? He’s not that cruel, right? He really, really doesn’t want to piss himself in class!

“Sorry,” he mumbles, trying to blink away his tears that are welling in his eyes. He’s mortified at the very thought, but he knows he will piss himself if Bakugou decides so because there’s no way he can hold it in much longer. “I promise it won’t happen again."

Bakugou scoffs and rolls his eyes. “An apology from a dog means nothing to me.” Bakugou’s eyes resettle on him, levelling Kirishima with a glare. “But if you don’t want to piss your pants, you better start begging, mutt.”

Kirishima looks up, eyes wide with disbelief and hope. He nearly pisses himself in his relief because Bakugou is giving him a chance to redeem himself. He can beg, heck, he’d do anything not to piss his pants right here and now,

so Kirishima wastes no time leaning against Bakugou’s thigh. He nuzzles against him and looks up with wide and pleading eyes.

“Please…” he begs, face flushing a deeper shade of red. Kirishima licks his lips and swallows thickly. “Please, master."

There’s a long pause as Bakugou appraises him, and Kirishima isn’t sure his begging worked until Bakugou’s lip curls at one corner setting Kirishima’s heartbeat erratic.

Bakugou presses his knee into Kirishima’s chest, shoves him back and rises to his feet. “Fine,” he says, stalking towards the classroom door. And Kirishima’s heart sinks a little. He was kind of expecting to hear a ‘good boy’…

He follows Bakugou to the bathroom, thankful that Bakugou’s natural walking pace is sufficiently fast, and when they reach their designation, Kirishima practically barges past Bakugou for the urinal, unzipping his pants on the way.

Bakugou leans against the wall right next to him and Kirishima pauses.

“What are you doing?” he squeaks, even more desperate to pee now that relief is so close, right here in front of him.

“Hurry up and piss before I change my mind,” Bakugou growls.

Fuck, Kirishima does not want that, and frankly, he can't hold it any longer.

He pulls out his cock, uncaring of Bakugou’s watchful eyes and finally lets go. Closing his eyes to feel the sweet, sweet release he’s been longing for. He can’t help but groan as he bladder empties, the pressure inside him easing. It’s the longest piss of his life.

It’s only as he’s finishing that he becomes conscious of Bakugou again. He blinks, shaking himself off, and tucks himself away with a blush. Okay…so he just pissed in front of Bakugou and he doesn’t know what to do about that…

He opens his mouth to speak but closes his jaw with a click when he can’t think of anything to say. He waits for Bakugou to take the initiative, but Bakugou simply pushes off the wall and starts walking back to class.

Kirishima quickly washes his hands and sheepishly follows him.
-

The bell rings at the end of the day and the class starts packing up their belongings, but the moment the teacher departs, Bakugou’s voice halts everyone with the simple command, ‘quiet’.

Everyone stills, even Kirishima until Bakugou orders him to the front of the classroom, tells him to kneel on the teacher’s desk…

Kirishima tentatively does just that, but his mind is racing and anxious, he doesn’t know what Bakugou is up to, and that makes him break out in nervous sweats. He can’t predict Bakugou at all.

He gulps as Bakugou points to the boy who he named as the culprit. “You,” he says, his voice stern and menacing. “Come.” He beckons him with his finger and the tension in the class saws as all eyes look between the boy and Bakugou.

The boy’s face pales and he gulps, turning his head left and right as though Bakugou is singling out somebody else, but all his friends quickly step back, distancing themselves from him. Slowly, he steps forward, and approaches Bakugou like a man walking to the gallows.

He stops a safe distance away, but that doesn’t stop Bakugou from crossing that distance in one swift movement and punching him in the face with a swing that sends him sprawling over a desk and crashing to the floor with a bloody nose.

Kirishima gapes at the sudden attack, a hit like that isn’t something just anyone can pull out of their ass. Bakugou points to the boy’s friends and orders them to hold the victim up, says if he passes out, they’ll be used as a replacement.

Bakugou doesn’t stop at one punch. He beats the boy to a bloody pulp, until the boy’s face is cut and swollen, until a strand of Bakugou’s neatly combed hair falls flat down his forehead.

Kirishima’s stomach flips and he watches, mesmerised, with butterflies in his stomach. Someone like Bakugou doesn’t need to get his hands dirty, yet here he is, doing the dirty work himself to a higher standard than Kirishima could have ever expected his slim body to perform.

Bakugou doesn’t need anyone else. Bakugou doesn’t rely on anyone else. And that’s really manly, but it also seems a little lonely.

When Bakugou has satisfied his anger, he grabs out a handkerchief and cleans the blood from his knuckles before tossing it for someone else to pick up. He slides his phone out of his pocket, swipes through the passcode and holds it up the screen for one of the other boys to see.

“If you don’t want these images leaked to the media, then you better make sure the headmaster knows you beat up this loser.”

That boy’s face pales more than the first. He quickly nods and Bakugou pockets his phone and turns back to Kirishima who straightens as he approaches.

Kneeling on the teacher’s desk makes Kirishima visible to all. He keeps his head down since he’s elevated to Bakugou’s height and doesn’t want to piss him off, especially after he nearly bashed a kid to an inch of his life.

He gulps as Bakugou reaches for his tie and Kirishima isn’t breathing as he gently loosens the knot and slides it off. Everybody in the class is watching them as Bakugou, in one quick motion, tears open Kirishima’s shirt.

Buttons pop off and skitter across the floor, and Bakugou stands aside to reveal Kirishima’s chest, a few of the bruises, but most of all, the nice leather collar strapped around his neck.

Nobody dares to speak as Bakugou levels them with a glare, his expression unreadable.

“Don’t touch my property,” he declares. The simple threat makes everyone in the room gulp.
-

[next update will be the end and NSFW]

Bakugou invites him into his room again that afternoon. Kirishima's shirt hangs open and his tie long gone. He kneels down just inside the room as Bakugou takes a seat at his desk.

Bakugou’s uniform is as immaculate as always, except today, he reclines in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and loosens his tie ever so slightly. It’s a sight that draws Kirishima’s eye and makes him stare.

He’s never seen Bakugou relax, has never seen him anything but perfectly attired.

Kirishima’s heart starts to beat faster the longer Bakugou silently watches him. His unhurried stare reminds Kirishima all over again that he is Bakugou’s property, and Bakugou can look at his property for as long as he wants.

“I went to a lot of hassle for you today,” Bakugou finally says, and suddenly, the collar on Kirishima’s neck feels awfully constricting.

Kirishima lowers his eyes in response, tension coiling in his shoulders. He knows Bakugou didn’t help him out of kindness, knows he likely wants something in return. So Kirishima braces himself for several worse possible scenarios.

“Call me like you did earlier,” Bakugou orders and Kirishima blinks. It takes him a moment to recall what Bakugou means.

The order is simple and easy, and it feels natural for Kirishima to respond, because he’s Bakugou’s dog, and in return, Bakugou has claimed him as his own. So Kirishima licks his lips and clears his throat.

“Master,” he says clearly without a stutter, raising his eyes to meet Bakugou’s, and Kirishima swears Bakugou lets out a shuddery breath but it’s hard to tell from where he kneels.

Bakugou uncrosses his legs and sits with his knees apart, an elbow propped on the armrest, resting his chin on his hand. The fingers on the opposite armrest tap a rhythm against the wood, and Bakugou’s eyes don’t leave his as he says,

“You remember that first afternoon when you asked me to tutor you?”

Kirishima’s eyes widen, darting over the lines of Bakugou’s muscles then gauging his expression. Of course, he remembers. He’s having difficulties forgetting it. He dips his chin in acknowledgement and a breath passes, then two.

The tension weighs heavily on Kirishima, and as Bakugou stares, waiting, Kirishima is hit with the urge to move.

As though beckoned to Bakugou, he shifts forward on his hands and knees, crawling slowly across the polished timber, eyes warily locked on Bakugou, looking for even the slightest twitch of displeasure, but Bakugou remains seated, his expression guarded but passive.

The tapping of Bakugou’s fingers ceases as Kirishima tentatively settles at Bakugou’s feet, not quite between Bakugou’s legs, but close.

Bakugou is waiting for something, and for once, Kirishima feels like he understands, for once, Kirishima feels like he can push without constant doubt and double questioning.

He lowers his eyes, tilting his head to the side, baring the length of his neck as he reaches for one of Bakugou’s shoes. He traces his fingers along the leather, brushing lightly over the faint specks of dried soup freckling the otherwise polished surface.

A quick glance to Bakugou shows his expression is unchanged, so Kirishima continues. He wraps his hand around the heel of Bakugou’s shoe and raises its leather to his lips.

He glances back up to Bakugou before he places a kiss on the toe of his shoe, then another. Bakugou narrows his eyes but doesn’t voice his displeasure, so Kirishima continues to stare as he licks a fat stripe up the side of Bakugou’s shoe.

He sees Bakugou’s throat bob ever so faintly, and that reaction spurs him on. His other hand wraps around Bakugou’s ankle, feeling his socks but wanting skin. He stops breathing as he waits for an adverse reaction, but unlike last time, Bakugou doesn’t feel the need to kick him.

He licks Bakugou’s shoe clean, probably more willing than he should be because the look in Bakugou’s eyes, a look that watches sceptically but has a clear glint of approval shining, urges him on.

He slides his hand a little higher up Bakugou’s ankle, palm smoothing over Bakugou’s calf and finding more muscle than he was expecting there. He doesn’t yet venture past where Bakugou’s sock ends, but with still no reaction, Kirishima slides Bakugou’s shoe off his foot.

He runs his nose down Bakugou’s shin and licks a stripe along the top of Bakugou’s foot before moving underneath and lapping at the arch, soaking his sock with his spit and grazing his teeth over it.

Bakugou’s foot flexes under the assault of his tongue, he almost jerks back but quickly disguises that reaction as a controlled adjustment of position as he reclines in his chair, gripping either armrest and staring down his nose at him.

Kirishima’s heart pounds faster in his ears. Each small reaction from Bakugou makes his breath catch in his throat. He licks higher up Bakugou’s sock, sliding Bakugou’s trousers up and peppering licks across his calf until he reaches the elastic at the top.

He nips at the band, holding it between his teeth, then pauses, peering up at Bakugou. He waits for Bakugou to deny him permission, but Bakugou doesn’t, so Kirishima sucks the sock further into his mouth and peels it right off Bakugou’s foot without using his hands.

Bakugou huffs, a faintly smug smirk feathering across his lips as if to say ‘not bad for a dog’, but that’s a smirk Kirishima hasn’t seen before, and he’s learned so much about Bakugou lately but he still wants more.

Kirishima sits back and pauses to take in Bakugou’s pale skin, noticing the way his toes decrease in perfect intervals from longest to shortest. Then he leans in and licks Bakugou’s bare foot, wet tongue touching skin for the first time since he licked Bakugou’s fingers.

It earns him a sharp draw of breath that quickly turns into a hiss, and it’s Kirishima’s touch that caused that reaction, not just because it probably feels disgusting, but because Bakugou has always been untouchable.

But Kirishima doesn’t stop. He wraps a hand around Bakugou’s ankle again, another around his calf, and holds Bakugou’s leg in place even though he knows Bakugou won’t pull away because this is the dominance he wants.

Bakugou wants him at his feet, wants him eager to please, and please Kirishima does. He licks between Bakugou’s toes and revels in the way Bakugou tries to hide the way he twitches as his tongue curls between sensitive skin, lips sucking on toes.

“Fuck,” Bakugou sighs, sounding more breathless than Kirishima has ever heard him sound before, “So fucking eager.”

Kirishima whines in response, lapping at Bakugou’s foot more desperately than before. He licks at Bakugou’s ankle and moves up his calf.

Bakugou’s soft breaths sound so good that he pushes up Bakugou’s trousers so he can suck at the skin higher up, and that’s when he hears the quiet rustle of fabric shifting.

Kirishima pauses peering up at Bakugou’s half-lidded eyes. Fuck, he looks so good, so relaxed. Kirishima made him this way and it sends a shiver down his spine.

“I didn’t say stop,” Bakugou growls, shamelessly adjusting his swollen cock, its outline pressed clearly against his pants. Kirishima gulps, his mind disengaging as he imagines all sorts of different scenarios.

Bakugou huffs, but it’s more amused than annoyed. “Dumb dog,” he sneers and starts leisurely unbuckling his belt. He pulls out his weighty cock and Kirishima’s eyes blow wide.

Then his mouth goes dry as Bakugou starts lazily stroking himself as though this were nothing more than a conversation of mild interest.

Kirishima licks his lips and watches Bakugou grow harder in the delicate hand that not so long ago beat a boy to a bloody pulp.

Without thinking, Kirishima grabs Bakugou’s thighs and shifts closer between Bakugou’s legs, his breath fanning over Bakugou’s lazy motions.

“No,” Bakugou denies him. “You’ve had your fun.”

His grip tightens on Bakugou’s thighs but he restrains himself, he doesn’t shift closer despite the heat pooling in his gut.

Bakugou’s head lolls back against the chair, his eyes almost fall closed except for the tiny slit he peers at Kirishima through, and then he lets out the faintest, barely there, ghost of a moan as he rubs a thumb over the head of his cock.

Kirishima gulps and rubs his thumbs against Bakugou’s thighs, matching the pace of Bakugou’s hand, panting with Bakugou’s breaths, his own pants tightening at the show before him.

“Open your mouth,” Bakugou orders, and Kirishima doesn’t think twice. He opens wide because and order is to be obeyed, and then with a groan, Bakugou yanks him forward by the hoop on his collar and cums thick ropes over Kirishima’s mouth and cheek.

“There’s your treat, dog," he says and Kirishima shudders feeling the warmth against his lips.

That first day with Bakugou’s spit flashes to mind, and he shudders again as Bakugou leans forward and presses his fingers to his throat, just above his collar, thumb coaxing his Adam’s apple in the same way he did before.

Kirishima swallows, tasting Bakugou. And the look in Bakugou’s eye is fervid, manic, sending heat straight to his throbbing cock.

Kirishima licks the cum from his lips, and as Bakugou collects the remnants from his cheek, Kirishima sticks out his tongue and sucks it off Bakugou’s thumb, moaning pleasantly lost in the heady taste.

Bakugou leans in closer, breath hot and heavy against the shell of Kirishima’s ear. And his body knows what this means, he knows what he expects to hear, /needs/ to hear. Bakugou is going to say it, and his stomach flutters in anticipation.

He hears the breath Bakugou draws before he finally whispers, low and husky, in a raw, dirty voice Kirishima is certain few people have had the chance to hear,

“good dog.”

Kirishima’s hips involuntarily jerk up, and with a choked whimper, he cums in his pants untouched.

Warm stickiness coats his underwear, his eyes fluttering, rolling back in his skull. He absently hears Bakugou draw a breath, feels him jerk back and study him, fingers ever-so-slightly trembling where they rest on Kirishima’s neck.

Kirishima slowly comes down, blinking his eyes clear only to catch Bakugou staring at him, pupils blown wide, nostrils flared, breath shallow and quick, but trying oh-so-hard to even out.

Kirishima has never blushed so hard in his life.

“What a slutty bitch you are,” Bakugou says, eyes staring at his crotch before rising to meet him. His lips twist into a grin like a maniac.

And in that moment, Kirishima knows that he’s 100% fucked, because he can’t help the shivers of excitement that course through his body at Bakugou’s words.

“I never gave you permission to cum, Kirishima.”
-

[okay short epilogue coming]

also thanks to @/boycottvanillas for sliding into my dms and throwing me good ideas, it turned out much better with them *coughs* kiri cumming untouched

So basically Kiri realises he doesn’t hate being Bakugou’s dog because Bakugou’s property > than everyone else in Bakugou’s mind.

It doesn’t take long for Bakugou to get obsessively possessive with Kiri but he does mellow out after a while because Kiri worms his way into Bakugou’s heart with his loyalty.

Bakugou grows used to having Kiri by his side so it’s a shock when summer break comes around and he has no Kiri. So Bakugou rocks up at Kiri’s family house (which is a shit box with his siblings running around) and demands for Kiri to ‘sleepover, or whatever you normies call it’.

Kiri’s mother is fine with it so long as she can talk to Bakugou’s mother and make sure she’s okay with it. And Baku nearly snaps. He has enough money invested in stocks to buy his parents’ mansion three times over! He doesn’t need his mother’s damn permission.

But Kiri looks at him with puppy dog eyes and Bakugou restrains himself and dials his mother who’s a little too happy her brat of a son is asking her for help for once.

Kiri is shocked by how big Bakugou’s house is. He knew he was rich but seeing wealth in the form of assets is completely different to just knowing the figures. Not only is Kiri super nervous about meeting Bakugou’s parents, but he bows to literally every butler in the whole place

He also looks super out of place in his tshirt and crocs and gets weird stares. Bakugou doesn’t care what Kiri wears, but he hates people staring at /his/ Kiri and growls at anyone who does, though he makes sure Kiri ditches the crocs before meeting his parents.

Kiri is given his own room to sleep in but it's just so big and empty compared to what he's used to that he can’t sleep. So he sneaks into Bakugou's room and curls up on the floor by his bed, but Bakugou is a light sleeper and wakes up and orders Kiri to get in the damn bed.

When they graduate and Baku becomes a big shot CEO, Kiri becomes his big buff right-hand man who beats up anyone who talks shit about Baku behind his back even though Baku doesn’t care what those extras whisper about him.

When they get home at the end of the day, Kiri presents his ass for Baku to ram into while he's on the phone to his secretary going over the days finances.

The secretary is used to this shit. If only they confined it to home and not the office as well.

The End~

thanks for liking this and reading! I love and appreciate every single one of you