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The weekend arrived with little fanfare. Bakugou had spent the first day after his therapeutic fucking smiling softly to himself, in good humor. He was pleasantly sore and all he had to do was wiggle against the hard plastic of his seat to calm right down again, happy-sex hormones sending relaxation through his bloodstream.
By the time the weekend rolled around, it had almost worn off. His pussy was no longer sore, at least, and he frowned about it when he noticed. It hadn’t been long enough that his attention span started to waver, however, and he was nowhere near the depths of frustration he’d hit at the beginning of the week.
He was, in fact, nowhere near his limit, having gotten so thoroughly fucked so recently, which is why he resented the fuck out of his schedule.
Friday night passed completely as usual.
Saturday night, however.
On Saturday he lounged around the dorm, did his homework, and hung out with the most tolerable of the extras surrounding him. Even Kirishima’s loyal exuberance only made him laugh instead of snarl. So, his levels were in no way in need of attending to, so soon.
He’d been wearing a skirt all day, specifically so that nobody would think anything of it when he walked back to his room wearing one. This way, he didn’t have to change into it or answer any questions.
“Oh, good.” Iida pushed up his glasses as Bakugou entered his room. “You’re dressed correctly and even punctual. Aizawa-sensei will be pleased to hear of it.”
Pink skated across Bakugou’s cheeks. He bit back a snarl.
He took a deep breath.
Damn their teacher for picking four-eyes of all people, because four-eyes wouldn’t be swayed by any promises that he didn’t need this, that his levels were fine, that it was too soon to treat his bunny-minded bodily needs.
It was, as Aizawa said, preventative. He was being required to do this shit before he needed to. Bakugou scowled just thinking of it, but again: the fucker had chosen well. Iida wouldn’t hear any of his protests, because he’d been given strict instructions and this was an assignment.
“Now, I do have to ask-- do you have any commitments this evening? It’s just after dinner and you’ve already had social time, lounge time, leisure time, and time to work on your homework. You are, as they say, ‘free’ for the next four hours, correct?”
Bakugou’s lip curled.
“Yes.” He bit out, knowing that making plans in this window would not have amused Aizawa. There was no getting out of this. It was for his health. Ugh.
“And you absolutely will come back to my room at ten PM sharp?”
Bakugou blushed harder, throat suddenly tight. He didn’t know how to say what he had to say, not without wanting to kill everyone in a five-mile radius and then himself. He shuffled back and forth, getting angrier the longer it happened.
“Bakugou? Is there some reason you won’t be able to come to my room?”
“Might not.” He chewed up the words and spat them. “Be able.”
“Able, or willing? I assure you, if you’re just trying to get out of the parameters--”
“Un. Fucking. Able.” Bakugou met Iida’s eyes and held them, the taller boy obviously unprepared for the intensity. He stopped talking mid-sentence and flushed softly.
“Um. That is. Well then. Why will you be unable?” He tugged at his collar.
“Use your fucking brain, shitty-glasses!” Bakugou hissed. “Think about why this is necessary in the first place, and why I’ve got a time limit for this assignment.”
“Oh. Oh! Um. No.” Iida waved him off, voice strangled. “No, that makes perfect sense. Ahem.”
Bakugou counted back from ten, trying not to snarl. His stupid feet wanted to thump against the ground with his frustration and only long, hard-won control stopped that nervous tic.
“So, that means. I will need. To.” Iida took a breath. “I’ll come to you then, shall I?”
His voice jumped up an octave.
“Are you going to be able to handle this, Emergency Exit?” Bakugou demanded, mad that he even had to go there and burying any amount of concern for a classmate under loud bravado. Fucking Aizawa choosing a shitty-ass extra who couldn’t even do it. Fucking figured!
Iida’s hands chopped through the air mechanically.
“Of course! It’s no trouble. I’m happy to help a fellow classmate.” He stopped, mouth cutting off the next words, which were probably ‘in need’ and Bakugou tried to appreciate the goddamn effort instead of bristling at the implication. He was not needy.
Not yet. Not for another three weeks, at least.
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he wanted to murder the boy in front of him slightly less, so: win. He guessed. Ugh.
“Let’s just fucking get on with this.” He growled, his version of an olive branch. Hell, the whole damn olive tree.
He shouldered past Iida into the room proper.
“Well?” He demanded. “Where do you want to do this?”
“Um. Aizawa gave me the-- requisite supplies. That is. I thought I would simply be maintaining positive control of the supplies--”
“You can say ‘pussy plug.’” Bakugou said, amused despite himself.
“--and you would do what needed to be done.” Iida finished, powering through Bakugou’s statement as though he hadn’t spoken at all. His eyes were a little wild.
“Well, there’s two problems with that. Well, three, if you wanna split hairs. First of all, Aizawa’s probably going to want proof that this even fucking happened, which won’t work if you hand it to me, we don’t make eye contact like a shady back-alley handjob, and I walk off to my bedroom with it.”
“A shady back-alley-- Bakugou.”
“Second of all,” Bakugou continued, unconcerned, “As much as it pains me to admit it, I’ve got to do it here. Yes, so you can say you saw it, but also because I’m not going to be in any fit state during or after. That’s the whole fucking point of having someone else do this for me, because believe you me, otherwise I’d have an entire fucking cabinet of fat cocks and never ask nobody for nothing.”
Iida swayed a little, blinking rapidly. He clearly did not know which part of that spiel offended him the most, and his lips mouthed almost in disbelief as he tried to pick a phrase to pick apart, sputtering.
And, honestly, it was kind of entertaining so Bakugou decided to press forward.
“Which means: I need you to put it in me, because if it was me I’d go glassy-eyed and braindead two inches in and just lay there humping the thing mindlessly, and maybe eventually I’d fuck it all the way into me but I sure as fuck wouldn’t be able to go anywhere, afterward.”
Iida made a strangled noise. Bakugou grinned, rakishly. He was kind of enjoying this, what the hell. Maybe it was meant as a treat for him?
“So,” He purred. “You’re gonna have to fuck it into me and then help me to my shaking feet. And then? When I’m all fuck-drunk and speechless, because I’m stuffed so full and can’t think? You’re going to give me the clearest, most direct orders to go back to my room, or-- to be on the safe side-- guide me there yourself and get me onto my bed. Plugs are relaxing for a bunny, but I’ll be basically dead to the world as soon as it goes in.”
And didn’t that fucking rankle? As confident as he was right here, right now, as soon as something big started stretching him he’d go all limp and willing and dumb, drooling for it. Even the fucking thought of it had him soaking his panties wet.
He shuffled his feet just to deal with it a little and ended up rubbing his thighs together, the barest brush against his flushed lips making his eyelashes flutter as he took a moment to deal.
Bright red eyes opened, pinning Iida’s like a butterfly to the wall.
“So, Class Prez?” Bakugou settled his hands on his hips, thumbs hooked into the soft belt loops of the skirt, grinning recklessly. “Do you want to get a good grade on this assignment, or nah?”
Iida swallowed visibly. He walked with jerky motions to his desk where a nondescript bag was waiting. He reached into it and pulled out a big plug. He held it as if it was his first time touching one, and it damn well might be.
Bakugou’s eyes unfocused just looking at it, his pussy throbbing with want. His knees rubbed together and he forcibly widened his stance.
“It’ll be easier on the bed.”
“On the-- no, no, I’m sure you... know what you’re doing.” Iida pushed up his glasses nervously. “More than I do at any rate.” He muttered.
Bakugou grinned again, a quick slice of teeth. He had to get his kicks where he could, goddamn.
The bed was big and white and soft. Bakugou sat on it and then swung one leg around, leaving the other more or less at the edge. His skirt rode up and his knees pulled back so Iida could get a good view of the goods.
The goods, in this case, being Bakugou’s chubby cunt barely held by a little line of soaking wet panties.
Iida dropped the plug.
He caught it before it could hit the ground, fumbling and embarrassed to touch it still, and then brandished it like it would bite him. Bakugou bit his lip to hide a grin, toeing the comforter delicately. Invitingly.
“So, here’s what you need to know. I’m already wet for it and you should, in general, check with your fingers to see if the stretch will hurt in the bad way, that’s just good manners. I’m probably fine but Aizawa would want you to mind the correct protocol for putting big things in tight pussies.”
Lips pressed together, Iida nodded seriously. Bakugou felt the flush spread down his neck at the rapt attention.
“Then you can start easing the plug in. In case it wasn’t clear, this is going in my pussy. Not my ass. Got that, Four-eyes?”
Iida wrinkled his nose, but nodded again.
“Really, Bakugou, I did receive some basic instruction on this assignment.” He defended faintly.
“Oh yeah? Then you know I’m going to be shaking and moaning as you put it in me, because it’s so big and wide and it feels so good. I’ll stop being able to give you instructions at that point, because I won’t be able to do anything but cuss or beg.”
“Ah. Maybe some further instruction is needed before that, then.” Iida shuffled a bit. If he wasn’t hard in his pants, Bakugou would eat his tie.
“You’ll need to take my panties off, of course. These are small and thin, I picked them out knowing they’d come off tonight. Of course, they’re too thin to hold the toy in place. That’s where the skirt comes in.” He wet his lips, a little.
“Sensei did. Mention. The dress requirement.” Iida panted.
“Oh yeah. Look.” Bakugou shifted his weight and reached with his free hand to reveal the little ‘seat belt’ like harness hiding under the fabric. The ‘belt’ part would connect to its brother in the back, clicking together and forming a tight little seal along his slit and cheeks, securing the plug in place. They were attached under all the fabric to a belt in the waistband of the skirt, but you’d never know it from looking at the outside.
“Oh, my.” Steam was possibly coming out of Iida’s ears. Bakugou quirked a smile at him, teasingly.
“So you’ve got to press it all the way in me, then thrust all the way in and out a few times with it to make sure it’s comfortable and seated right.” Bakugou bit his lip again. “And wet enough, but I don’t think that’s a problem.”
“Nk.” Iida said, which wasn’t really anything so he pressed on.
“Then you click the straps in and make sure they’re holding the plug in my hole. If it slips out I’ll probably cry.” He blinked slowly up at the other boy, watching his eyes widen in alarm. Yeah, he probably shouldn’t be having so much fun, but then again this conversation was getting him so fucking worked up just thinking about it.
If Iida could look at his cunt for two seconds without jerking his eyes away, he’d see that Bakugou was practically drooling for it in more than one way. His pussy clenched viciously.
“So.” Bakugou said, voice deeper than it had been. “Why don’t you come over here and work that fat cock into me.”
“Oh my god.” Iida said, under his breath, eyes rolling heavenward as if in prayer. He walked forward and almost stumbled again, biting his lip.
He settled on the bed next to Bakugou, who shifted in pure anticipation. It was not a wiggle.
A big, hot hand settled on his bare thigh and Bakugou moaned, eyes startled wide. His heart was beating so fast in his chest, but he was mentally here for all of this. He was aware and cognizant.
Usually, every other time but fucking this one, he was at least three-quarters-of-the-way checked out with pure need and blind lust. It felt weirdly fucking intimate to be so present, especially when he was this horny.
“Ah. Then I’ll just.” Iida didn’t finish the sentence, setting the toy on the bed and leaving his grip where it was to bring his free hand around, temptingly close. Bakugou spread his legs further in invitation. Iida exhaled shakily.
His fingers brushed against Bakugou’s sensitive lips and Bakugou jerked, not expecting the phantom touch. Iida gulped but did not pull his hand back as Bakugou calmed down. The hesitant touch became a hesitant stroke, but Iida wasn’t here for fun or to get Bakugou worked up-- that was for the fucking second lesson, probably, ‘how to get your bunny wet if he’s not’-- so.
He dipped one finger down and wiggled it against Bakugou’s fat lower lips, until they parted like a sigh and he could dip his finger in slowly into his entrance. Fire lit along Bakugou’s spine. His mouth went dry.
Usually, if someone was putting something in him, it was because he was already burning so fucking hot he was at risk of walking off a cliff. No higher brain functions to speak of, only white-hot need between his legs and a melted brain growing steadily more needy and frustrated until all could do was yell and stomp his feet and hope someone stretched him open.
This was different. This was... the fire starting from embers. From the ground up. Bakugou’s mouth fell open and he panted as Iida stoked the fire and stroked inside him. Bakugou’s hips shifted, up into it.
Iida slid his finger out slowly and pressed in with two. Bakugou moaned softly and his legs tried to fall open further. The skirt bunched up against his upper thighs, soft fabric touching sensitive skin.
Two fingers felt like too much. With a rush of heat, Bakugou realized he’d never had someone inside him when he wasn’t pushed fully into a hormone-driven haze. This was... This was...
Iida slid in to the knuckle and Bakugou shuddered, eyes squeezing tight. His pussy clenched onto the fingers, face hot. His mouth wouldn’t stay closed, pink lips parted, wet.
“Oh, fuck.” Bakugou couldn’t stop his hips from rocking up into the fingerfuck, fingers tangling in the sheets. He wanted to reach out, to touch, to hold on.
“Oh.” Iida gasped, as his thumb grazed Bakugou’s clit and his pussy spasmed around Iida’s fingers. “This is so-- so lewd!”
Bakugou turned his head and laughed, warm all over. Hot. Hot all over. Iida scissored his fingers and Bakugou let his head fall back into the bed with a full-body wiggle.
It was hard to remember what they were here for.
It was also the first time he was being touched like this without getting a hot, hard cock fucked into him, to feel heavy balls rub over his perineum and have his toes curl from deep strokes inside.
God, he bet Iida’s cock was so fucking big. Wide, too. Mouthwatering. How would it feel to have it so deep in him his labia touched Iida’s pubic hair, where his body joined his cock, his balls?
His fingers were thick, too. It was only two but they stretched him so good, so wide. Bakugou had never made these choices on purpose before but it was instinctual, familiar to grab Iida’s wrist when he pulled out and tried to pull away, to pull his wet fingers into Katsuki’s mouth with a moan.
Bakugou’s lashes fluttered shut, pulling them in and out over his wet lips, slowly, indulgently. He tasted himself. He tasted Iida. It didn’t make any sense but it was amazing to feel Iida shiver as Bakugou tongued between his fingers. He closed his lips and sucked, groaning low, and cracked his eyes open-- all of it just to watch Iida’s jaw drop as sweat broke out across his temple.
Bakugou kept eye contact as he lazily suckled those two fingers, working his tongue on the undersides. Iida cleared his throat and pulled his hand back hurriedly. Bakugou frowned at the loss, but it didn’t last long.
He fixed half-lidded eyes on Iida as he, his back now fully on the bed, ran both hands down his chest and stomach until they brushed his thighs. He rolled his body once, sensual, leading.
What in the actual fuck was he doing?
A glance down showed Iida’s cock hard in his pants, visibly straining, and Bakugou’s mouth went a little dry. Oh, right. He was getting cock.
It had only been a minute or two but his body wanted him to know it was empty. Specifically, his cunt was so wet and every time he clenched down on nothing it sent waves of frustrated-barely-pleasure up his spine.
Tragically, Iida moved aside and picked up the plug. It was a bold, bright pink. Bakugou scoffed at it. He’d only ever tried plugs once or twice and had splotchy memory of those incidents.
This one was soft silicone, at least. It looked like a swirled ice-cream cone or, maybe, like coiled rope in decreasing diameters-- each layer was distinct, giving it a ridged appearance, and Iida sucked in both lips as he guided the plug down to Bakugou’s opening.
They both looked down, breathing hard, watching the bright pink touch the more human pink, the flushed cunt begging to be stretched open.
“Tt.” Bakugou swallowed. “Tease it around first, if you’ve never done this before. Get it-- wet.”
“Of. Of course.” Iida managed, obediently rubbing the head of the toy all around. Just-- all around. He stroked it along Bakugou’s whole slit and when it brushed the bunny’s clit his hips jerked.
“Maybe.” Bakugou licked his lips. “Maybe you should make me come, first. Make it--” His voice came out strangled, wobbly.
“Make it wet. Easy.” Iida picked up the thread easily enough, face cherry red. “How--?”
Bakugou exhaled with amusement. He let his head fall back into the sheets, mostly so Iida wouldn’t see his small smile, as he reached a hand down and guided the one holding the toy.
“You can-- ah-- just. Focus here, a little.” He swallowed a moan as he held onto Iida’s wrist, manually moving the rounded tip around and around his clit. “Mmn.” Pleasure sparked through Bakugou in waves.
“This is-- enough? You’ll...?” Iida’s voice was hushed. He was certainly watching. Bakugou wanted eye contact for this but couldn’t be bothered to lift his head or open his eyes. It was enough to lift his hips into it, to feel his pussy flex and sigh open as if begging for that toy.
“No, of course not.” Bakugou shivered at how rough his voice sounded. “A bunny can’t come without...”
He bit his lip.
“D-don’t tell me--” He said around a shaky laugh. “--that the class hasn’t talked about this. I won’t believe you.”
Iida swallowed hard.
“I try not to gossip about anyone but a case was made that this is relevant health information.” He said, in a breathless rush, now moving the toy on his own enough that Bakugou didn’t feel the need to literally guide him. He rocked his hips up in matching circles, rubbing into it.
Slick slid down to the sheets.
“This is good.” Bakugou admitted. “Your mouth-- your tongue-- would be better, your leaking cock rubbing on me best of all--”
Iida let out a squawk and Bakugou made a noise of unhappy complaint because he stopped the gentle rubbing. Iida hurriedly picked it up again, this time just a little harder, a little more pressure. Bakugou arched his back into it, rolling his hips up in waves.
“Yeah, fuck, just like that. Get something in me so I can come all over you.” His breathing picked up, just like Iida’s was. Tentative fingers not holding the toy reached down and two fingers pushed steadily into him. Bakugou’s thighs fanned open in welcome, in encouragement.
His pussy clenched down on them in naked relief, milking them in deeper, and Iida gasped roughly.
“Oh, fuck.” Bakugou rubbed his hair into the sheets, head tossing. “More, another, come on, c’mon, fuck--!”
“I-- really?”
“Have you seen the size of that toy? Be happy I’m not asking you to stretch me open with your dick, ohfuck, oh god--”
He trailed off into breathless laughter as Iida interrupted him, almost desperate to get him to stop talking, by carefully adding another finger. He was so full. So perfectly full. The width of them, it stretched him open, stretched him wide around it, about the circumference of the middle of the toy.
“Nnng, yes, fuck.” Bakugou gasped, sweating, and the sweet scent of nitroglycerine filled the air, as he couldn’t help but gasp joy, shaking laughter; as Iida pressed the toy that much firmer in a circle on the side of his clit and he clenched tight around those beautiful fingers, tipping over into orgasm with a wordless cry.
He just tried to hold himself together through it.
And then it was over. He was struggling to get in enough air, panting like he’d run a mile.
His pussy spasmed weakly around Iida’s fingers, briefly too tight for him to pull out. Bakugou blinked stars out of his eyes.
“Either wait five minutes, get some lube, or drool right onto my pussy.”
“What!?” Iida demanded, somehow scandalized despite half his hand being pressed in Bakugou’s body.
Bakugou closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek across the soft bed.
“Those’re your options to get your fingers out and the plug in, Four Eyes.” Bakugou muttered, tiredly. He couldn’t quite keep his hips from rocking onto Iida’s hand, even if it didn’t go anywhere, his pussy clamped too tight for now.
If this were a dildo, he’d be shuddering and crying through the oversensitivity, continuing that rocking until he loosened just enough for his copious wetness to slick the way; then he’d be bouncing again, heedless of the swelling.
It was different with another person, though.
“I-- I’m not-- drool.” That option seemed to be the one fucking with Iida the most. Bakugou opened one eye to glance at him impatiently. Huh. Either he’d broken his class leader’s brain or exposed him to a fantastic new kink centered around inappropriateness and probably something about hygiene.
No surprise there. Someone that straight-laced has to get a little hot around the collar for things getting a little dirty.
A few minutes and some lube later-- they were too far away from the stuff Aizawa provided, so Iida blushed full-body pink and reached into his own bedside table for a modest bottle of the stuff that he read twice with shaking hands to make sure it was safe for vaginas-- and Bakugou’s legs were hiked up on Iida’s lap, cunt distressingly empty.
He drizzled some of the lube over the toy with a thoroughness born of procrastination.
“Are we-- sure-- the position, I just...”
“My ass is propped up on your knees.” Bakugou drawled, blushing himself but determined not to show it. “It’s even better than a pillow. Gives you good access.”
Iida made a noise like a steam engine, all high-pitched consonants.
“Well, then. That is to say. Hmm.”
Bakugou crossed his arms behind his head for leverage and watched him with a smirk. Red eyes met red eyes.
He gave his hips a little shimmy.
“Four-Eyes, come on, put that cock in me already.” And if embarrassment pooled low in his gut for the words, the position, or the reality of the situation, then that was no one’s business but his.
Iida’s eyes landed on his carefully, taking in everything about this, making sure he didn’t misstep-- and then they narrowed. Something unsure played about his lips before they firmed up, pursing thoughtfully.
Hesitant fingertips trailed from Bakugou’s upper thigh to his stomach, sending goosebumps in their wake until his hole, broad hand pressed against Bakugou’s sternum, fingers spread.
“Aizawa-sensei gave me a little advice, you know.” He said, matter-of-factly. “He said...” Iida took a quick breath. “Sometimes a little bunny doesn’t know what they need. Sometimes they’re stubborn.”
He leaned over, pressing weight into his hand, holding Bakugou to the bed even as he shifted his position to keep his ass in Iida’s lap, to keep everything-- accessible.
“But you’ve been a good bunny today, Bakugou. There’s no helping your mouth, of course, but...”
He smiled shyly, at odds with the heat in his eyes.
“I think you deserve a reward.”
Bakugou’s mouth fell open in shock at the words. Then the wet, silicone-soft, blunt toy was pressing against his pussy and it opened for it like a flower unfurling in perfect slow motion, and thought left him entirely.
His lips glistened wet in the dorm light and Iida slid the toy in one slow, sure inch at a time, confidence in every motion.
Static.
Pure static.
Bakugou couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could hardly breathe.
The thick press of it stretched him open and his mind emptied of everything else, everything except his body’s loud pleasure. He lost track of what his hands were doing, or even of having hands. His entire existence narrowed down to his cunt, pulsing hotly, and the inexorable press.
Wider.
Wider with every inch, as the toy got bigger. A little drool escaped his mouth. He couldn’t close his mouth. He was aware of his thighs-- trembling. His feet, kicking weakly, bare twitches.
The press. The press of it. The wide, thick press of it.
Full, so full.
So big.
If he moved his thighs a little, just a small side-to-side rock, or trying to close them, his pussy clenched down on the thick hard thing inside him and it felt good, better than good, right and perfect and big.
He cooed, or someone did, pretty sound coming out of a happy throat, and Bakugou shuddered helplessly as the thick thing in him got even wider. Oh, it was going in, sliding in, so slow and so big.
His toes curled.
It felt like things in him were moving aside to make way, but that didn’t feel right, and he bit his lip as he began a rhythmic clenching, rocking down on the big cock, the wide, thick cock stretching him so good, just for him, all his, pressing into his softest, wettest and most sensitive places.
It burned a little, at the widest, and Bakugou panted as he took it, as he could do nothing but take it, groaning and whining at how good it felt, how perfect, how it stretched him--
He was stretched open!
Stretched wide.
Finally his little cunt stretched around the widest part, Bakugou’s mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ and his eyes open wide and watery, and he squirmed and gasped and squeezed around it until it narrowed, abruptly, and then--
Something changed. The large base of the plug settled perfectly against his flushed lips, part of it mere millimeters away from his clit but not quite touching, and he rocked from side to side to test it, to feel how his pussy tightened and unclenched around it.
His eyes crossed, sighs spilling out of him, but then the big, thick toy pulled so slowly out of him and Bakugou shouted, sweat drenching his hairline, eyes flaring wide as the widest part pulled at his opening again.
He struggled to close his legs, to keep the toy inside-- he might possibly have sobbed.
“No, no--” But oh, then the toy fucked into him, softly but purposefully, a series of slow thrusts that rubbed the biggest part of the plug around the best spots, the width of it stretching his tiny hole to the max, it felt like, and rubbing and pressing and pulling in and out until Bakugou was groaning and whining into-- something. Sheets?
His thighs trembled as it was pushed into him one last time, pussy hot and wet and tight around it, and when it settled in Iida pressed firmly and the wide, flared base rubbed perfectly against his clit for just long enough.
“AHH!” He came with a startled sound, shuddering through it-- his cunt clenched and clamped and squeezed onto the toy, fucking it as best he could with it seated so firmly, a rhythmic catch-and-release that plunged him into vicious, merciless after-quakes, and when he finally came down from it he was so shocky and numb that it took a moment to notice the warm film that had settled so completely over his mind.
“Mmm,” Bakugou murmured, humping something softly. Aftershocks zinged through him. He thought he could do that all-- forever. Time was meaningless. He was so full. Everything was right and good and satisfying and he was full, full, full.
He couldn’t bounce but that was okay because when he focused on the huge thing his pussy was clamped around, his mind went white with pleasure and he kept doing that-- clenching around it and making pleased little noises-- every few seconds like one might worry a loose tooth.
There was a shuffling of some sort, a little click, and then the pressure against his cunt felt more secure, felt lasting. He murmured some kind of appreciation, happy and full and pleased.
Smug.
Something soft fluttered over his thighs, swishy and nice, and he wiggled a little to feel the hem touch him more, only to gasp in surprised pleasure as that wiggle rubbed the big, thick thing inside him against his walls, and his pussy throbbed with molten pleasure, and he rubbed his cheek against something very soft.
There was some kind of noise, but Bakugou didn’t really pay any attention.
There were hands on him, which he barely noticed, save for the way they moved him made his eyes cross again as the plug shifted and rubbed inside him in the best way.
He was standing, then, and every single step was like being fucked, just a little. His legs wobbled harshly and he giggled, breathless with how good and right and happy it made him, he was full as full could be, and he was walking somewhere, but he wasn’t worried about it.
Bakugou was building his way up to another pleasure-filled peak by the time something soft touched his cheek again, and then his chest and his legs, and he realized he was in a bed now and wiggled-- deliciously, all the right spots getting rubbed; he moaned loudly-- until his ass was up in the air.
The only thing he could think of, through his foggy thoughts, was that someone could fill him up there too, and he’d be the most happiest and satisfied bunny, but it didn’t happen and it was a hard thought to hold onto, so it faded eventually.
He did not sleep, of course. He hovered there, on the edge of dreams, rocking softly against his sheets until all he knew was shivery, continuous pleasure, and all he was was perfectly, amazingly full.
When Iida arrived at Bakugou’s room at 10 sharp, he found a flushed boy red all over and wet all down his thighs, but not desperate. Something in his face seemed completely at peace, in a fucked-out sort of way that Iida had never even considered before, and he only moaned in soft protest once as Iida reached between his-- between his legs-- and drew the plug out of him carefully.
Bleary eyes blinked up at him, a mulish pout on his face, but one awkward pat-- Aizawa-sensei’s advice yet again-- and a murmur of praise had the boy smiling happily and snuggling into his pillow.
He sighed, shimmying his hips, and then fell asleep between one breath and another, completely relaxed. Iida stared for a few more minutes, unable to look away, and wondered what he’d done to Aizawa-sensei that the man felt the need to break his brain like this.
Iida resolved to take it as a sign of trust, instead, in himself as class representative if nothing else, and put the toy back into the bag for transport. He got back to his room, washed it off diligently with the provided cleaner, and left it to dry in his bathroom where he didn’t have to look at it.
Then he snuck a hand down, helpless to stop himself, and fisted his cock until he came gasping into a handful of tissues, biting his lip against the feelings that welled up in him.
He tossed the tissues to join their brethren in his bedside trash receptacle, making a mental note to take it out first thing in the morning.
He had to get up early to report to Aizawa-sensei, anyway. His last thoughts before drifting off were that he hoped he did well on the unusual assignment.