// nsfw a/b/o rut A!Bkg B!Kiri face-sitting

Bakugou can't help himself, sometimes.
His ruts are bad, obviously influenced by his quirk, producing a sweat so pheromone-thick even he can feel it hanging in the air like humidity before a storm.
There's not much he can do about it,

besides slapping patch after patch after patch of scent suppressants on his neck, to no avail.

That's not even the biggest problem.

It's something else.
_
"Oh, fuck, Bakugou wait," Kirishima moans weakly as he gets crowded by the blond man until his back is pressed to the door.

"I can't, I can't, please," Bakugou growls desperately, ripping one of his scent patches off his neck, pulling Kirishima close enough so he can rub his scent on his skin.
"Let me open the door," Kirishima says, fumbling with the keys behind his back, trying to find the keyhole.

"Fuck, gimme the fucking keys," Bakugou whines, snatching the keys out of his hand and opening the door in what can only be described as being a brutal action.

Kirishima can only hold on as he pushes him inside, holding him by the elbows, guiding him into the bedroom

and divesting him of his clothes.

"Fuck," Bakugou gasps, staring at Kirishima's naked form. "You don't smell like me. Fuck."

And Kirishima gets it. It's happened enough times for him to understand what he means by it.

"Take your clothes off," he urges Bakugou.

"I'll get the lube."

"No," Bakugou grits out, sliding the zipper down on his hero suit. "No lube. Smells fucking awful."

Kirishima shudders with the implications, obediently turns to kneel with his back to Bakugou, resting his ass on his feet.

He knows Bakugou's heats are bad,

but he also knows Bakugou would never hurt him on purpose. Not when they're both vulnerable like this.

He allows Bakugou to manhandle him, spreading his knees, holding his asscheeks so Bakugou can slot his cock right between them, grabbing onto his hands so he can get him to

squeeze around him.

Kirishima can feel his knot, swollen taut and pressing right at the cleft of his ass with every uneven thrust of Bakugou’s.

Bakugou won't even let him wrap his hand around his own cock when he's like this, rut-frenzied and desperate to assert himself,

so he just closes his eyes, leans back fractionally to get Bakugou to press his forehead onto his underdeveloped scent glands, pressing sharp fangs into the meat of his shoulder blades.

He uses him like a rut toy, rubs his ass with his cock, teasing his hole with the pre

that's leaking out the tip, enough to act as lubrication but not enough to get Kirishima fucked by him.

He comes within a handful of thusts, spilling messily on his perineum.

At he beginning of his rut like he is now, his cum is more for marking than impregnating,

and it shows in the way he's spilling rope after rope of thick, musky cum between Kirishima's legs, scent so overpowering Kirishima shudders with it, his beta instincts thrown into a state of confusion.

Bakugou pushes him forward until he's bracing his weight on his forearms,

his hole bared for Bakugou to assess, and the blond grunts, straddling Kirishima's back, grinding his knot in the planes of his muscles, urging more cum to spurt weakly from his dick, smearing his spend and his sweat onto Kirishima's back, rubbing them in

until Kirishima smells undeliably like him.

"Shove my cum into your ass," he says, fisting a hand in Kirishima's hair and pulling on it until he's baring his throat so he can press a hand to his scent gland and massage it until he has Kirishima howling with need and arousal.

He's worked two fingers inside his hole already, dutifully scooping Bakugou's cum off his thighs and ass and pressing it inside himself, and Bakugou grins ferociously when he reaches a hand behind him and feels Kirishima's fingers, straining at the position, barely halfway in.

His need to mark him is so overwhelming that he can't even speak anymore, he just shifts off him enough to roughly turn him on his back, smearing cum into the sheets.

He plants himself back on Kirishima, this time with his ass high on his chest, close enough to him that

the tip of his dick touches his skin, and he can pry his mouth open with his fingers, spit right on his tongue and squeeze harshly on his knot until he milks out another weak dribble of cum into Kirishima's mouth.

He shoves his fingers in there, tugs on Kirishima's tongue

to see the way his spit and cum are mixing, before shoving his fingers as deep as they'll go inside Kirishima's mouth and ordering him to swallow, just so he can feel him almost gagging around his fingers, struggling to swallow.

"How many?" he asks, "how many fingers?"

"Three," Kirishima struggles to say around his hand, still petting at the inside of his mouth, at the sharpness of his teeth.

"Not enough," Bakugou grunts, dragging his hand away, and Kirishima whines, jerks reflexively when he pushes a fourth finger inside himself.

"Can't wait," Bakugou warns, already feeling a second orgasm building, and Kirishima nods, eyes hooded, gasping open-mouthed.

Bakugou shifts further up until he's right above his face, and he lowers himself slowly, shuddering when he feels his balls touching Kirishima's mouth.

His lips are already parted, inviting, and he sticks his tongue out to coax the sac inside his mouth, gently sucking on it as Bakugou's shaft finally comes to rest on his face.

Like this, his scent is overpowering, undeniable and so thick with arousal even Kirishima can feel it.

It makes him whine uncharacteristically in his throat, makes suck harder and nose at the sandy curls at Bakugou's groin until the blond starts moving, thrusting his cock weakly across his cheek, hand applying pressure on his knot.

"Fuck," he groans. "You're perfect like this."

He watches with satisfaction as Kirishima's eyes almost roll back in their sockets, his throat bobbing as he swallows his spit, breath hot through his nose against Bakugou's crotch.

His orgasm come over him abruptly.

He tense, growls, forcing his eyes to remain open to witness

the cum shooting from his cock, all over Kirishima's forehead, his hair, his eyebrow, sliding lazily down his brow bone as it's joined by a few other weak spurts on his cheek, close enough that Kirishima closes his eye instinctively.

"Fuck," he whispers, still squeezing his hand

around his knot. "You look good like this. Mine."

And Kirishima closes his eyes and shudders, lets go of Bakugou’s balls to he can moan.

"Don't cum yet," Bakugou gasps out, rubbing a thumb through his spend.

"You'll muddle my smell."

Kirishima whines desperately.

"Needy," he chuckles, rut-haze dissipating.

He climbs off Kirishima’s face, smearing the cum on his cheeks, the drool on his chin.

"How about we get you to cum down my throat, then, hm?"

Kirishima whines again.

"That's what I thought."