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[confessionsandcreampies-deactiv]

 ꒰ pillow princess ꒱ྀི　

izuku midoriya—when he realizes you love being pampered, he gets shy at first, blushing like mad, stuttering his way through kissing down your body. but that eager, service-top switch flips in him fast. “you don’t have to do anything, baby. just lie back for me, okay?” he praises every gasp, every moan he pulls from you, like worship. and when he makes you come hard without lifting a finger? that proud little smile he hides in your neck is everything.

katsuki bakugo—his first reaction? a smirk, low and sharp.“tch. figures. lazy ass.” but god, he loves it. loves how pretty and wrecked you look beneath him, your only job being to take it. “spread your legs. let me do the fuckin’ work.” he kisses your ankle on the way up. leaves bruises on your thighs. spits in your mouth. he’s the kind of man who’ll ruin you completely and then mutter. “princess treatment, huh? good. ’cause i wasn’t planning to let you move anyway.”

denki kaminari—lights up when he figures it out. “you mean i get to do all the work and watch you melt for me? best day ever.” denki is enthusiastic. loves trying new positions, oral, toys. anything that lets you stay soft and spoiled under him. and when you whimper that it’s too much, too good? “c’mon, sweetheart, you’re doing amazing. just let me take care of you.” he kisses your belly, your thighs, your soul if he could.

eijiro kirishima—he melts. like, melts. you want him to handle it all? babe, say less.“that’s seriously cute, though. you just wanna be spoiled?” he whispers sweet things the whole time, all tender touches and strong hands. he’ll pull your legs over his shoulders and keep eye contact as you fall apart.“you’re my girl. my princess. i’ll always take care of you.” and if you ever try to reciprocate, he kisses your hands and tells you he loves it when you’re the one getting loved on.

hanta sero—“wait, for real?” he laughs. “you just want me to do everything?” but damn if he doesn’t rise to the challenge. loves putting in the work. loves seeing you all needy and sweet, fisting the sheets while he devours you for hours.“you’re so hot like this, babe. i could do this every night.” he teases, flirts, gets cocky, but the aftercare? wrapped in his arms, him whispering, “i love spoiling you. you deserve it.”

hitoshi shinsou—he smirks when he realizes. rolls his eyes, but he’s already positioning you exactly how he wants. “of course you’re a pillow princess.” but then he leans down, voice low and warm. “good. let me make you feel everything.” he’s slow, thorough, and mean in the best way, denying your orgasm just to edge you longer, kissing your pulse and smirking at your whines. “look at you… just lying there, shaking for me.” and when it’s over, he presses his forehead to yours and murmurs,“you’re mine. every inch. always.”

shouta aizawa—aizawa simply nods when you admit it. no judgment, no surprise. “i figured,” he says. “you like being taken care of.” then he shows you what that really means. he goes slow, methodical. mouth and hands dragging along every inch of you, never once rushing. “you don’t have to lift a finger. just feel.” he’ll tie your wrists with his scarf if you squirm too much, just to keep you pliant and trembling. “let me do all the work, sweetheart. that’s what i’m here for.”

keigo takami—“oh, you’re that kind of girl?” he purrs, tilting his head. “cute.” keigo lives to spoil. that teasing, dirty charm comes out full force. “you wanna be my lazy little baby? fine. just sit back and let me make you cry.” he kisses your inner thighs, makes you come with just his mouth, murmurs filth in your ear while holding your hips down. “i’ll fuck you like a gift i get to unwrap every night.” he likes you helpless. and he’s so good at making you stay that way.

dabi—laughs. cackles, honestly. “god, of course you are.” but then? he’s obsessed. presses your legs open and never looks away. “don’t move. don’t talk. just take it.” he’s rough, messy, and fully unhinged in the way he fucks you when you’re acting like his perfect little toy. “you like being spoiled, huh? like being mine.” and when it’s over, he lets you curl up on his chest while he lights a cigarette and mutters: “princesses get what they want. you’re lucky i like you.”

tomura shigaraki—blushes hard. like full flush from ears to chest. “you mean… you don’t wanna do anything?” but when he settles into it, he gets hooked. seeing you laid out just for him? that shit short-circuits his brain. “you trust me that much?” gentle at first. tender. but then needy and desperate, grinding into you while holding your hips like a lifeline. “i’ll give you everything,” he pants. “just stay still. let me take care of you.”

[ibuprofein]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟 ! ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟! 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 𝐱 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟. 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭’𝐬, “𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟 !” 𝐚𝐧𝐝 “𝐧𝐨, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟 !” 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐭’𝐬, “𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟 !”.

𝐜𝐰: 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐝𝐨𝐦/𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

{ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓’ - 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 }

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

the kitchen was hell.

you balanced a piping bag in one hand, a palette knife in the other, crouched over the delicate layers of puff pastry that had to be just so difficult. katsuki’s voice boomed from the line, cutting through the sizzle of pans and the chatter of cooks.

“oi! that halibut’s raw! you tryna kill the customers, dumbass? fix it—now!”

the brigade jumped like they’d been shocked. nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of bakugo katsuki’s fury. except you.

well… not here, anyway.

“two mille-feuille, chef!” you called out, sliding your finished plates onto the pass. clean layers, sharp lines, sugar glaze shining under the heat lamps.

katsuki leaned over to inspect them. he didn’t say a word just gave you that sharp look, the one that could slice steel, and nodded once. praise, in his language.

“yes, chef!” you chirped back with a grin, then ducked before he saw you smirking.

the rush roared on: tickets piling, servers shouting, pans flying. you and katsuki moved like opposite poles of a magnet never colliding, always circling, perfectly in sync.

by the end of service, everyone was limp with exhaustion. katsuki slammed the final ticket down, ripped his apron off, and barked, “clean down!” before stalking out back to smoke.

later, at your home, the air was quiet. katsuki leaned against the counter, still in his chef whites, arms crossed, watching you set down the leftover pastry box you’d smuggled home.

“you kept your head today,” he muttered, voice rough from shouting all night.

you tugged at his loose apron string, looking up at him with a sly smile. “yes, chef.”

his eyes narrowed, jaw clenching. “say that again.”

you tilted your head, feigning innocence. “yes, chef?”

his hand snapped to your throat, not tight, just enough to make your breath hitch. he bent low, lips brushing your ear. “no. the other one.”

your pulse jumped. you whispered it against his mouth: “fuck me, chef.”

he groaned, low and dangerous, before hauling you up on the counter like you weighed nothing. your thighs spread beneath his hands, skirt that you changed into riding high, the cool marble shocking against your ass.

“look at this fuckin mess,” he muttered, pushing your panties aside, thumb dragging over the wet spot clinging to the fabric. “been dripping for me since service, huh?”

“y-yes, chef—”

his laugh was sharp. “good girl. don’t fuckin’ lie.”

he grabbed the pastry box, flipped it open, and plucked a strawberry dipped in glaze. he pressed it against your lips until you parted, letting the syrup run down your chin. katsuki followed it with his tongue, licking you clean like he was starving.

“sweet,” he said, then shoved your panties down your thighs and dropped to his knees.

the first drag of his tongue had you jolting, hands slapping the counter. katsuki pinned you down with one thick forearm across your hips, mouth working rough and fast, like he was devouring you instead of dessert.

“taste better than any sugar i’ve touched,” he growled against your pussy before sucking your clit so hard your vision blurred.

“k-katsuki—”

“chef,” he snapped, eyes flashing up at you. “say it right.”

your back arched, nails scraping at the marble as he fucked his tongue into you. “fuck—chef—oh, fuck, chef!”

he moaned against you like the words went straight to his cock. he switched between long, slow licks and sharp little flicks that had you trembling, then shoved two fingers inside you, curling them until your legs shook around his shoulders.

“that’s it. cum for me. let me fuckin’ taste it—”

your orgasm hit hard, clenching around his fingers, spilling hot over his tongue. katsuki groaned like he’d won a star. he kept licking, messy, relentless, until you were whining and pushing at his head.

“can’t take it—”

“you can,” he snarled, standing and and rubbing your lower belly, “you’re my pastry chef, my fuckin partner in crime ‘course you can take it.”

the next day, service was packed again. tickets stacked like bricks on the line, servers shouting, the smell of seared fish and garlic heavy in the air.

you were halfway through plating a delicate chocolate soufflé tower when the base gave out. the whole thing collapsed in front of you, splattering sauce and crumbs across the marble.

“what the fuck was that?” katsuki’s voice cracked like a whip. heads on the line snapped up. “you tryna serve a pile of shit to a paying table?”

your cheeks burned. “it—chef, it just slipped—”

“then rebuild it. faster.”

he barked it, but then he was beside you, big hands steadying the piping bag as you reset the base, his presence shielding you from the stares of the brigade. his voice dropped low, meant only for you. “breathe. you’ve got this. don’t let one fuck up ruin the service.”

the tower went out clean, guests none the wiser, but the sting of his words lingered.

at home, you were quiet, folding yourself into the couch while katsuki kicked off his boots. he stood in front of you, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“don’t pout,” he muttered. “i shouldn’t’ve snapped like that.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you yelled at me in front of the whole line.”

he winced. “i know. i’m a fuckin’ prick.”

before you could answer, he bent down and kissed you. softer than expected, almost hesitant. when you didn’t push him away, he tugged you into his lap.

“lemme make it up to you,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your lip.

the kitchen was dim, only the stovetop light glowing as he carried you to the counter. he set you down gently, pulling the leftover jar of chocolate sauce from a bag of supplies.

you gave him a look. “again?”

“shut up,” he muttered while taking off you shirt and underwear. unscrewing the top of the jar, he dipped two fingers in, then smeared a line of chocolate over your collarbone.

his mouth followed, slow and hot, tongue tracing every sticky streak. “better,” he murmured against your skin, dragging more sauce over the swell of your breasts, licking you clean like it was the only thing that mattered.

“katsuki—”

“chef,” he corrected, eyes dark but soft. “and i’m not stoppin’ till i’ve covered every inch.”

his hands pushed your thighs apart, fingers slick with chocolate as he spread it low, painting over your pussy before bending down to taste. the mix of chocolate and heat made your head spin, his tongue unhurried, savoring you like the finest dessert he’d ever plated.

“sweetest fuckin’ thing i’ve ever had,” he whispered between licks, voice rough with apology and want.

his pace stayed slow, deliberate, coaxing pleasure out of you instead of demanding it, until you were trembling apart in his hands.

but when your moans broke higher, wetter, when your fingers tangled in his hair and pulled, his control snapped.

he growled into you, sucking your clit hard, making you jerk against the counter. he shoved three fingers inside, thrusting them fast, curling deep until you sobbed.

“fuck—can’t—”

“yes, you fuckin can,” he snarled, voice raw. “you think i can sit here, taste you, and not wreck you? not happenin’, sweetheart.”

you came again, messy and shaking, and katsuki stood, chest heaving, pupils blown wide.

“fuck being soft,” he rasped, yanking his sweats down. “i’ll make it up to you by fuckin you stupid instead.”

the first thrust was brutal, his hips slamming against yours with a wet slap, chocolate smearing on his shirt from where your sticky hands clawed at him. he set a relentless rhythm, deep and hard, muttering against your throat.

“mine. my pastry chef. nobody else gets to see you fall apart but me.”

his apology had turned into a claim, each thrust harsher than the last until you were sobbing his title—“chef, chef, chef”—and he was fucking you through it, licking chocolate from your neck before kissing you filthy.

“say you forgive me,” he gritted, hips stuttering.

“i—i forgive you—”

he growled, burying himself to the hilt, spilling inside you with a shudder. his mouth pressed against your ear, whispering rough, shaky praise as he held you through the aftershocks.

“good girl. fuck—you’re perfect. perfect, even when you mess up.”

the next week, rumors hit the brigade like a bomb: inspectors in the dining room. nobody knew for sure, but the whispers had katsuki wound tight as a wire.

he barked louder than usual, stalking the line with murder in his eyes. “don’t over season. don’t under season. don’t you dare send shit out cold. if you so much as sneeze near a plate, i’ll—”

the staff jumped to obey. you felt the tension in every movement—piping sugar, glazing fruit, steady hands even as your heart thumped like crazy.

katsuki hovered at the pass, arms crossed, jaw clenched. when you slid up two perfect soufflés, he checked them three times before finally letting them go.

you caught his eye, gave him the smallest nod. he didn’t nod back but his scowl softened, just for a second.

the night dragged on. chaos, pressure, then the final ticket left the pass. silence followed, heavy and exhausted. katsuki slammed his apron down, sweat sticking his shirt to his back, and growled, “clean down. now.”

at home, two bottles of red wine later, katsuki leaned back in his chair, hair messy, cheeks flushed.

“we fuckin’ survived,” he muttered, swirling his glass. “and if those bastards were inspectors, we nailed it.”

you kicked your shoes off under the chef’s table, stretching your sore legs. “you held it together, chef.”

he barked a laugh. “the hell i did. i was losin’ my shit all night.”

“you didn’t show it.” you leaned across the table, stealing the glass from his hand. “you were brilliant.”

his eyes darkened, glass forgotten. “don’t say shit like that when you’re sittin’ pretty across my table.”

before you could blink, he was out of his chair, yanking you up onto the chef’s table with a clatter of glasses.

“told you,” he growled, mouth hot against your throat, “if we get that star, i’m fuckin’ you right here.”

wine sloshed, plates rattled as he shoved your skirt up, ripping your panties down with a groan.

“been thinkin’ about this all night,” he muttered, dragging his fingers through your wetness, then shoving them into your mouth. “messy little thing. you want me this bad while i’m screamin at dumbasses in the kitchen?”

you moaned around his fingers, nodding frantically.

“fuckin knew it.” he pulled them free, lined himself up, and slammed into you hard enough to rattle the table legs.

wine spilled over, dripping onto the floor as katsuki set a brutal rhythm, fucking you into the wood with every ounce of pent up stress and adrenaline.

“louder,” he snarled, gripping your hips so hard you’d bruise. “let the whole fuckin’ building know we nailed tonight.”

your cries bounced off the walls, tangled with his curses. he kissed you messy, teeth clashing, wine-slick tongue tangling with yours.

“cum for me,” he rasped, breath hot on your mouth. “cum all over my cock so i know we really fuckin earned it.”

you shattered around him, screaming his title, and he followed with a growl, hips driving deep as he spilled inside you.

the two of you collapsed against the wreck of glasses and bottles, panting, sticky with wine and sweat. katsuki kissed you again, it was sloppy and tender despite his feral edge.

“fuckin star or not,” he murmured against your lips, “you’re the only thing i’m proud of tonight.”

after the surprise visit from the inspector, the kitchen was dark for once. no tickets, no rush, no shouting. katsuki claimed he hated days off—“makes me restless, like i’m waitin for shit to go wrong”—but you knew better. he needed this as much as you did.

the farmer’s market was bustling, sun spilling over crates of heirloom tomatoes and baskets of fresh herbs. katsuki stalked beside you in a hoodie and cap, glaring like the produce offended him.

“look at these dumbasses,” he muttered, eyeing a guy in suspenders selling sourdough. “twenty bucks for a loaf? i could make better with my fuckin’ eyes closed.”

you nudged him with your basket. “but you won’t, because we’re not working today. pick something you actually want.”

he grumbled, but you caught him sneaking a hand toward the blueberries.

“these are good for pastries,” he admitted, tossing the carton into your basket.

“see?” you teased. “you’re not immune to hipster bait.”

he shot you a glare, but his hand found the small of your back as you walked on. the sun, the chatter, his warm grip: it felt like peace was taking over.

back home, normal became slow and decadent. the market haul sat forgotten on the counter while you two stayed tangled in bed, sheets pushed down, the air thick with morning laziness.

katsuki was draped over you, chest heavy on your back, cock buried deep inside you. every slow thrust dragged a whimper out of you, every kiss he pressed to your shoulder made your stomach flip.

“fuck, you feel good,” he murmured against your skin, voice scratchy from sleep. “ain’t in a rush. just wanna stay here all fuckin’ day.”

your hand reached back, fingers threading through his messy blond hair. “then stay,” you whispered.

he chuckled low, hips rolling deeper. “like i’m goin’ anywhere.”

eventually, he pulled back just enough to grab the blueberries off the nightstand that he must’ve carried in without you noticing. he popped one into his mouth, then pressed another against your lips.

“open,” he ordered, tone soft but firm.

you obeyed, juice bursting sweet across your tongue as he pushed it in with his fingers.

“good girl,” he muttered, sliding the juice sticky fingers back into your mouth. “taste that? fresh as fuck.”

he fed you another, then another, never breaking his slow grind inside you. every berry, every finger push into your lips made you wetter, made him groan against your neck.

“shit—watchin’ you eat outta my hand while i’m inside you—” he bit down lightly on your shoulder, pace finally faltering into rougher thrusts. “—gonna make me fuckin’ lose it.”

you moaned around his fingers, clenching around him until the rhythm broke into gasps and curses. he spilled into you with a shudder, then stayed right where he was, pressing his forehead to the back of your neck.

after, katsuki finally rolled off, tugging you against his chest. “we’ll make breakfast later,” he mumbled, already half asleep. “right now, i just wanna keep you full.”

the next service ended with a silence you weren’t used to. no clang of pans, no barked orders, just the hush of a kitchen full of cooks staring at the envelope on the pass. the inspectors hadn’t just eaten, they’d stayed. whispered questions, secretive smiles, the tension of judgment in every course.

then katsuki tore the letter open, hands shaking for the first time you’d ever seen. his eyes scanned, narrowed… and went wide.

“we fuckin did it,” he rasped, voice caught somewhere between a growl and a sob. “one michelin star. we got it.”

the kitchen exploded—cheers, hugs, pans banging like cymbals. even the servers came running in, champagne corks popping. the line cooks whooped, the sous chef cried outright, and for a split second katsuki just stood there, red eyed and rigid, trying not to fall apart.

you slipped up beside him, pressing your hand to his back. “let it out, chef,” you whispered.

his jaw clenched, shoulders shaking. he didn’t cry, not fully, but he dragged you into his chest and buried his face in your hair while the staff kept celebrating.

hours later, the champagne buzz carried you both back into the quiet of the locked kitchen. the framed star certificate already hung proudly on the wall, polished under the light. katsuki’s shirt was half-open, collarbone flushed, eyes still glassy from victory and booze.

“look at that,” you said softly, fingertips brushing the frame. “we actually did it.”

“fuckin right we did,” katsuki muttered. his arms slid around you from behind, heavy and hot. “couldn’t’ve done it without you, you know that, right?”

before you could answer, he was turning you, pressing you flat against the steel counter, mouth rough and hungry on yours. the champagne on his tongue mixed with the raw burn of need he’d been holding back all night.

“gonna fuck you right here,” he growled against your lips, already hiking up your skirt. “right in front of our star. so every time i look at it, i remember this is what we built, what we earned, and how good you fuckin’ take me.

you gasped as he bent you over, steel cold under your palms, his hands rough on your hips. the certificate gleamed in your periphery as he pushed into you in one long, devastating stroke.

“shit—” katsuki’s breath hitched, his forehead pressing between your shoulder blades. “tight as the first time. you kill me, you fuckin kill me.”

his thrusts were deep, celebratory in their violence, every slap of skin punctuated by filthy praise.

“my star,” he panted. “not the paper on the wall—you. you’re my fuckin’ star.”

your moans echoed off tile and metal, mingling with his curses, until the whole kitchen bore witness to your triumph.

when you finally collapsed forward, trembling and spent, katsuki stayed pressed to your back, kissing sweat from your nape.

“this is just the first,” he murmured, voice low and certain. “we’ll get more. we’ll conquer the world, you and me. but tonight—” his hand slid down, making you jolt with aftershocks, “—i’m gonna celebrate you till you can’t fuckin’ walk.”

[rivers-for-me]

reblog to give warm bread to your mutuals

[proudspoonie]

[crushmeeren]

On rainy days, Katsuki aches.

His right knee hurts from when he blew it out on his first solo mission fresh out of U.A. Chasing a sludge villain of all things, how fucking ironic. But, what can he say? He was too over eager and got thrown into the side of building. He shattered the bone and ruptured a tendon. Stupid.

His left elbow screams at him because of that time he sparred with Kirishima. His arm ended up bent in a direction it should not have ever been be able to bend, snapping the bone clean off of his radius (forearm.)

Sometimes, he even has to take out his hearing aides because his ears are too damn sensitive! The material pisses him off and makes his inner ear throb something fierce.

Katsuki’s list of past injuries runs on and on and fucking on. The rain brings them to life and reminds him of all the stupid mistakes he’s made. Or the lives he’s saved. It’s bittersweet, he just wishes he didn’t have to pop ibuprofen like candy on these gloomy, pouring cats and dogs kind of days.

Although, the chronic pain fades into something more bearable when you’re there. When you come in through the front door, shaking the rain from your hair, and lift up a takeout bag of his favorite food with an excited grin.

You start to speak with what Katsuki’s knows is animation, but he points to his ears and shakes his head. No matter, because your face softens and you sign to him instead. It’s clumsy, a bit too quick, and Katsuki’s heart melts each time he sees it.

You learned just for him, after all.

You’ll throw blankets in the dryer to warm them up, change into your comfy clothes, and snuggle up with him on the couch. Devoured and empty food containers litter the coffee table. Katsuki struggles to keep his eyes open under warm blankets and with a full belly. So, you nap.

You’ll even rub all his sore joints if he’s really feeling rough.

So, yeah, on rainy days, Katsuki aches. He throbs and twinges and wishes he could chop his fucking leg off.

But having you by his side to help him through it? He’d raw dog these rainy days if it meant you’d never leave him.

master list

[prettymisspopular]

boyfriend!bakugo...

boyfriend "yer important to me, dumbass" bakugo

boyfriend "who the fuck ya think you are, messin' with her like that?" bakugo

boyfriend "sit down, I'll cook" bakugo

boyfriend "got you some roses" bakugo

boyfriend "one more f'me, sweetheart" bakugo

boyfriend "stop flirtin' with her tapeface!" bakugo

boyfriend "hold my hand..." bakugo

boyfriend "i love you, idiot" bakugo

[popgoesdynamight]

Sound on for best experience. ╰┈▷ Pairings: cowboy!Bakugou x Reader Click here to be tagged next time I post. ╰┈▷ Word Count: 1.7k ╰┈▷ Contains: Reader with Braids, a Dress, and a Country Accent, Instant Infatuation (we ain’t got all day for our boy to fall in love with us), Alcohol, Pet Names: baby

Play It Again

Bakugou ran his hands through his spiky blonde hair for the third time since he got to this stupid party out in the middle of the damn woods. He felt practically naked without his cowboy hat. At least he had his boots on so he felt somewhat like himself.

He took a sip of his canned beer and looked around the fire. His friends had already started to pair off, and the last thing he wanted to be was a third wheel. Surely there was someone he could talk to… At least for an hour, the amount of time he had promised Eijirou that he’d stay.

That’s when he spotted you. You were all by yourself, sitting on the tailgate of a pick-up truck, legs swinging. You were so pretty with your braids and sundress that he found himself already walking towards you without thinking it through. As he approached, a thought nagged at him.

What if she’s got a boyfriend? Maybe the truck is hers, and I’m just overthinking shit…

Your face tilted up as he got closer, and he wondered briefly what you thought of him. Before that trickle of insecurity could become a pool, he pulled his hand from his jean pocket to offer the smallest wave. The smile you gave him in response took his breath away. Friendly and open.

“Hey there! Lookin’ for a place to hide?” You asked, a cute country twang to your words that pulled at his heart strings.

He shrugged one shoulder as he took another sip from his beer as he came to stand in front of you. “Maybe,” he replied, trying his best to sound cool and unflustered.

“Well, ya came to the right spot. Have a seat.” You patted the spot beside you on the tailgate. He hesitated for a moment, looking around for someone to come forward and tell him off for talking to you. When no one materialized, he sat down beside you, the truck dipping briefly under his weight. 

As the radio droned on from the cab of the truck, the two of you began to make small talk. Usually, Bakugou wasn’t keen on small talk, but it’s not like there was anything else better to do. Besides, he found that he really enjoyed hearing you talk, and you seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him. You asked him his name (Bakugou), who came with (Kirishima and Kaminari), where did he work (UA Ranch), and how long had he been working there (about 5 years). 

He began redirecting the conversation to you, asking you your own name, about your hometown, what were you doing at a party in the middle of the woods like this, and did you have someone you were sweet on? He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel elated to confirm you were in fact single, and the truck belonged to your friends that were somewhere around the bonfire. Talking with you was as easy as breathing, he thought, which was saying a lot considering how annoying he found most people, even his friends.

He began to feel more comfortable, forgoing the small talk for more personal anecdotes finally. With his beer can abandoned on the bed of the truck, he began telling you a story about the time he and Kirishima had to patch a fence before their boss found out after Kaminari had pissed off the bull of the neighboring ranch. Right as he was getting to the part where the bull had smashed through the fence during its chase with Kaminari, you suddenly leapt off the truck’s tailgate. 

His brow furrowed, wondering what the hell was more important than talking to him as he watched you run around to the cab to turn up the volume of a country song that had just started to play. But that little bit of irritation was squashed when he saw the smile on your face.

“Oh my god, I’ve been waitin’ all night for them to play this song! It’s my favorite!” You said excitedly, coming back to the tailgate. “Dance with me Bakugou!” Before he could make up an excuse to refuse, you were already grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. As much as he wanted to fight it, the moment he saw your smile again, he couldn’t help but give in to you.

You fit perfectly in his arms, your hand so much smaller in his as you spun him and yourself around in the dirt. His boots next to your worn sneakers didn’t seem out of place; in fact, he liked seeing them together and could easily imagine them lined up by the door of his trailer. He also found that he didn’t mind you taking the lead either, much to his surprise. It helped that your cute smile beamed up at him as you moved him around as you pleased.

As the song began to finally fade out, Bakugou found himself hanging onto you, not wanting the moment to end. And it seemed like you weren’t ready either. On the last note, you slowly stopped, looking up at him through your lashes. He felt a familiar heat rise up his neck  and the tops of his ears as you stood up on your tiptoes, leaning into him even closer than you had while dancing. 

When your lips softly met his, his heart felt as if it would surely pop out of his chest like one of those cartoons. You tasted so sweet, like summer strawberries, and he found himself pulling you tighter against him, his hands on your waist. When you finally pulled away to breathe again, he saw he wasn’t the only one feeling something.

“I just knew you were a good kisser,” you whispered. All Bakugou could think was how badly he wanted that song to play again so he could see you smile and taste your strawberry kiss again.

The hour that he promised Kirishima came and went as the two of you sat back down on the tailgate of the truck, sitting closer than you had before. Before he knew it, Bakugou realized it was well past midnight. Your friends came back to the truck, ready to head home, and Bakugou quickly offered to drive you home instead, desperate to keep you to himself for just a little while longer.

You shyly agreed and followed him back to his Jeep. He quickly texted Kirishima and let him know he was leaving and would see him at work tomorrow before silencing his phone and helping you into the vehicle. He knew Kirishima and Kaminari were going to blow up his phone, wondering who it was climbing into the Jeep. Maybe it was selfish but he didn’t feel like sharing you just yet.

The drive back to your house went by quicker than he wanted, even though he drove just under the speed limit, doing anything he could to make the night last a little longer. He foolishly began flipping through the radio stations while you talked, hoping that song would come up once more just so you would kiss him again.

He pulled into your driveway and parked, hand still fiddling with the radio. You didn’t seem to catch on to what he was trying to do and opened the car door, sliding out on your own. You hovered around, waiting for him to get out and walk you to the door. Right when Bakugou was about to give up on the radio, the song he had been praying for began playing through the speakers of his Jeep.

His heart leapt as that same smile from before brightened your face. “I can’t believe that my favorite song came on twice in one night! Come’re cowboy, one more dance!”

He couldn’t have moved any faster if he tried as he slid out of his Jeep and came to you, his hands reaching for yours. He smiled down at you as you retraced your steps from the bonfire before but this time in the headlights on your driveway, spinning the two of you around and around.

You giggled as your dress swished around your legs, your sneakered feet moving effortlessly around his boots. He loved the way your nose crinkled and how your eyes almost disappeared when you smiled so genuinely at him. And just like before, the song began to fade out, but this time Bakugou was prepared. He leaned down to meet you halfway, planting his lips on yours as the last note played out. 

Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him down a little further. He held you tightly against him, positive that you could feel the beat of his heart through his shirt. He still didn’t want to let you go when you reluctantly pulled away just a bit to suck in a breath.

“Let me take you on a date,” he muttered, his voice rough with want.

“What?” You asked, your eyes still glazed over from the kiss.

“Let me take you on a date, baby,” he asked again. You nodded and his mind raced as he put together exactly what he wanted to do for you.

The next Friday night, Bakugou took you out to a little spot by the lake. He had spread out a well-loved blanket and, after you both settled in, he pulled out his surprise: a guitar. Your eyes lit up as he began to strum the melody he had been practicing for you all week.

There, under the stars, you made him dance along with you while he continued playing your favorite song on his guitar and you sang the lyrics a little off-key. It didn’t matter when he missed a note or two or how out of breath you were getting from spinning around him while belting out the words to the song. All that mattered was being there together.

As he strummed the last couple chords, he caught your gaze. A knowing smile pulled at the corners of your mouth as he pulled the guitar strap from over his head. You were already stepping into his arms once the guitar was set down, finding his lips easily as if you had been kissing him for years and years.

“Play it again.”

tags: @berryvioo, @kyluskaye, @xo-evangeline, @potionpeddlerpatchy, @dreamcastgirl99, @stormierain1326

[bambcie]

southern!katsuki ? yawp yawp.. notes @ da end !

growing up in a tight-knit community in the countryside meant you knew everyone. And everyone knew you, and you loved that. there was nothing you loved more than the fact that you could ask everyone and anyone for a favor no matter what. with that being said, he was always staring, he never spoke to you unless forced to, and even then it was gruff mutters and one-syllable phrases. you knew he didn’t hate you because you asked his mom and dad and even asked his best friend! and they all reassured you that there was no bad blood, from what they understood,katsuki was just moody. with everyone. over everything. he wasn’t all that popular, almost solely known for his negative attitude towards everyone. but you never minded that. what you did kind of mind was the staring. katsuki was always staring. no matter where you were, you could feel ruby eyes boring holes into your back, he never said anything either. always stared and stared until you stared back, then he would frown and leave whatever area you guys shared. you weren’t sure what he could be staring at, you always maintained your appearance so you knew there was no way he was looking at you out of disgust. your hair was neatly done in waist-length curly braids. the boho pieces framing your face in almost an angelic halo, your nails always clean and kept, and the face you stole from your mother was nothing short of extraordinary. so no, katsuki couldn't be looking at you because he thought you were ugly. you were growing annoyed with his staring when it started coming with constant mutters. quiet and under his breath he would always be saying something, while eyeing you.

“ what’s your problem ? ” he looked stunned to hear your voice, shocked by the fact you approached him to begin with. 

“ what ? ”

“ what is your problem ? ” your hands were folded over, and you looked at him demandingly. his staring was becoming a distraction. it’s hard to get any work done when there's someone a couple feet away whispering who knows what to themselves as they watched you. and he did all this while being so… rude. he pushed, ignored, yelled at damn near everyone but especially you. like he had made a personal promise to irritate you as often as possible. 

“ i don’t have a fuckin’ problem ” his voice was deep and velvety, the thick southern twang in his voice almost hard to detect as someone who grew up there but it was so prominent. so obvious that he spent his days in the sun yelling at cattle, fixing up homes, pestering his pops for trying to haul wood, being a man.

" yea you do, keep starin' at me " his face flushed, already sun-kissed cheeks turning a deeper red as his lips slightly parted. he had been caught. it's not like he tried to hide it by any means, but katsuki was never confronted by others about his oddities. whether it was staring, ignoring or berating people, they usually took it. you were one of the few to speak up about anything of the sorts. he wasn’t quite sure why he liked it.

" 'n that became a problem when ? "

" when you started doin' that weird whisperin' shit with it "

he scoffed at that, shook his head, and everything too. he took a step away from the wall he was leaning against, almost in a sleep-like state, before you came up to him. and that was when you were finally able to focus on his attire, or lack thereof. it was the middle of july, no one was wearing a shirt unless they had to. and katsuki didn't have to, clearly. he was clad in nothing but a tight wife pleaser and work pants. they were covered in mud from days of work, and you could get a peak at the heels of his light brown boots from underneath the denim.

" was starin' cause i thought you were a peach. " he stared down at you, matching your stance with his arms crossed over this chest. " saw ya takin' care of the ol' man, lookin' after all the lil critters. like some typa princess." he took a step forward, you could smell the wood and whatever cologne he spritzed himself with. " you fuckin' look like one too. "

that's when you felt your face heat up, shocked by how bold his confession was and how observant he was truly being. you could do nothing but stare and then sputter out a confused, " what ? "

" you deaf or somethin' ? 'said you look ‘s pretty as a damn peach. 'n it pisses me clean off. walkin' 'round like everythin' s'posed to be normal, like you're not distractin' " he uncrossed his arms and took one final stride in your direction, slightly bending at his hips to meet you in the eyes. striking ruby eyes almost piercing through you. "couldn't get shit done for a whole day, kept havin to check 'n see if you were around, felt like some idiot."

cmmnt if uu wanna get tagged in pt 2!!

also lmk how uu like it >.< it’s more of a brain jumble than anything .

[vampdes]

DES says . . . most ive wrote in weeks, omfg. ANYWHOO, i present to you: “can he pay my bills?” ft. bakugou, iida, izuku, todoroki, kirishima & denki.

© vampdes . do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[honehonn3honey]

Kid Kirishima! to try a new brush

[missdynamighttt]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⇢"but kia! how do i know what is-" ࿐ྂ

HONEY, YOU'RE A STAR ☆ ! - smut ༉‧₊˚.

BABY, YOU HAVE MY HEART ♡ ! - fluff ༉‧₊˚.

SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND ✧! - angst ༉‧₊˚.

STORIES (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ ᯓᡣ𐭩

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ honey..come back to me. please. | k. bakugo

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ IN WHICH, you and your ex-boyfriend katsuki bakugo can't seem to resist each other no matter what. even if you're only supposed to be friendly at the class reunion party.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ there's no one like you, sweets. | k. bakugo

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ IN WHICH, you make what feels like the worst decision of your life—getting into a hot tub with your fake boyfriend, katsuki bakugo.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fat ass like hers needs a real man to fuck it | k. bakugo

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ IN WHICH, you get tangled up with your boyfriend's arrogant, infuriating, and devastatingly hot rival, katsuki bakugou and ended up fucking... one too many times.

DRABBLES ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- ᯓᡣ𐭩

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ convincing bf! katsuki to do the sticky cover

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ shoulder-biter bf! katsuki

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ beach with older bf! katsuki

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ new year with bf! katsuki

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ jacked AND kind with bf! katsuki

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ crying in a movie with bf! katsuki

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ watching porn with bf! katsuki

*ੈ✩‧₊ bf! katsuki pays for your nails and you thank him

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ bf! katsuki convincing you to go on a date with him

*ੈ✩‧₊ bf! katsuki does your eyeliner

*ੈ✩‧₊ backshots with enemies w/ benefits, pro hero! katsuki

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ pro hero, husband! katsuki's greatest achievement

*ੈ✩‧₊ older bro's bsf! katsuki catches you masturbating

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ using bf! katsuki's face to test out your lipsticks

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ shamelessly seducing boss! katsuki as his secretary

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ husband! katsuki had a dream you divorced him

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ sitting on bf! katsuki's shoulders while he cooks

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ husband! katsuki SO in love with the way that you smell

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ husband! katsuki on twitter for texting you while fighting

REQUESTS (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) / / ᯓᡣ𐭩

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ life with husband! katsuki and kids

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ arguing w/ bf! katsuki being reckless

*ੈ✧‧₊˚ single father! katsuki finds daughter's drugs

*ੈ✧‧₊˚ pro hero! katsuki meeting villain! reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ internet goes wild over mature photo of pro hero! katsuki

*ੈ♡‧₊˚ mature interview with pro hero! katsuki and his wife

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ bf! katsuki's first time hearing you moan

*ੈ✧‧₊˚ falling in love with fantasy! katsuki over and over again

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ kia thanks you for making it to the end (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[kitkat13001]

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚘𝚑, 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠…

⤷ mha x f!reader (use of she/her pronouns, fem. relationship labels)

⭑ number-one hero deku, sitting on the couch across from his girlfriend in his pajamas, applying matching green face masks and giggling at the mess they’re making

⭑ cold and formidable pro-hero shoto, cross-legged on the wood-paneled floor with his wife as they share a bottle of wine, despite the large vacant table and long vacant counter, laughing quietly about the most recent scandal at work

⭑ great explosion murder god dynamight, begging for mercy as his fiancée sits atop his chest grinning triumphantly and tickling him without remorse, his eyes watering and lungs burning because she knows exactly the spot that makes him unravel 

⭑ fashion icon pinky, known for her model-worthy looks, bundled up in blankets and stolen hoodies and mismatched socks and sweatpants with her girlfriend as the two of them binge-watch all five seasons of riverdale 

⭑ charming and dashing hero chargebolt, sitting in front of the tv at seven am, sharing a blanket with his fiancée and watching cartoons and eating cereal because neither of them wanted to cook and definitely not resembling two responsible adults whose wedding is in two months

⭑ the ever cool and composed ingenium absolutely losing his shit because his wife was unaware that the dominos pasta containers are aluminum and cannot go in the microwave, as they found out the hard way, the pair now staring at a crispy microwave and charred countertop

⭑ sweet and kind uravity who becomes an absolute menace when up against her girlfriend at mario kart because they agreed the loser would do the dishes and she refuses to even touch that mountain of plates after tamale night 

⭑ the manliest of all heroes, red riot, who swears there is no manlier thing than going for drive-thru at one in the morning with his fiancée in the passenger seat because they had a fry craving

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[kelpcloud]

I love this so much 😭 got me squealing at work

[dekuneho]

reason ☆ ( thirdyear!katsuki x reader ) suggestive — your boyfriend breaks up with you, and katsuki doesn’t waste opportunities

The first fact Class 1-A learns about you is that you have a boyfriend.

Well — had. And now you’re third years, and it’s safe to say that you should’ve broken up long ago.

You had him since middle school, but they never met him. Your dynamic shifted from the perfect picture of high school sweethearts to something more toxic since you got into UA — 1-A, no less. Yuusei didn’t pass the UA exams and called you insensitive for asking him to come meet your ‘fancy hero friends’ while he was from some low-profile school, and back when you had sympathy for him, it was difficult to be peeved at his blatant jealousy. He had a compelling, teary face.

“That’s called manipulative,” Sero says.

“He was really insecure,” you confess. Not that it makes it any better. He was manipulative because he was insecure — but that wasn’t all. He’d been that way long ago. There was a different turning point.

Kirishima gives a gentle, understanding pat on the back. “We were busy enough as it is. But now we’re about to graduate; of course you started thinking more about your future.”

“And you got the perfect ending — a future without him!” Ashido cheers to that. You take a long, long, victorious sip.

Right. After your breakup, you phoned Ashido about it, unaware that she was out with the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t like you were on speaker. Ashido gasped and shrieked, and the rest continued in her apartment, bottles of fancy wine that probably came from Bakugou lined up on the table.

Bakugou had been silent the entire time, sitting on the far edge of the couch across yours. You didn’t even think he’d come along. He’d always been coldly indifferent when it came to anything related to Yuusei. He doesn’t offer a single word; you expected him to call you stupid for dragging it this long when you entered the room. He just stared, ruby tracing your every step.

“So? What made you snap?” Kaminari asks, nestling into the cushion beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. You feel like a prey as Bakugou’s gaze holds on Kaminari’s arm for a moment too long. “What shit did he pull this time?”

Bakugou had been the reason for your breakup, and it almost feels like he knows exactly that.

Yuusei despised him. Bakugou is the physical embodiment of everything Yuusei failed to be, and you were friends with him. It really didn’t help that Bakugou has an ego and can back it up; Yuusei didn't have either.

Yuusei was in a heated argument with a classmate, and you got irritated by his voice drowning out even your music at the loudest volume. So you got up, buried your feet in your outside shoes, and glanced back.

“Hey, I’m going out.”

Yuusei was already having an awful day, and came the bottled-up aggression that made him spit in seething venom: “What, don’t tell me you’re going out to fuck Bakugou behind my back again?”

You paused from where you had been tugging your jacket sleeves up your arms. And then, unadulterated fury. The rest is history.

But that’s embarrassing to admit to your friends. They’d ask why Yuusei would even bring Bakugou up — why he is even a recurring argument in your relationship. It wasn’t just Yuusei that was the problem. Somewhere buried deep that Yuusei could feel was your shame, the one that knew Yuusei wasn’t just threatened by Bakugou because of one thing.

“He was having a bad day,” you say instead, and the mendacious excuse slips so easily. Back then, you thought it was because you needed to defend Yuusei; now, it was because you feared them also knowing the truth. “And I realized I just couldn’t — uh, anymore.”

“Yeah,” Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ashido agree together.

Bakugou finally shifts from where he’d been unmoving, ducking down to fill his glass. “‘least you learned your fucking lesson.” His gaze flicks up; the intensity makes you feel so shameful. It coils in your gut. “Forget the losers who can’t handle themselves. Go for the best.”

Coming from him. Is he flirting? This has to be flirting, right? Every word he says feels so charged, blatant with intent.

“Whoa, fresh on the market and you’re already saying that? Give it a few months, at least,” Kaminari laughs, followed by some, but you and Bakugou aren’t laughing. You’re stuck in this weird staring competition — looking away feels like admitting defeat. Feels like you’d straight up confess that yes, it’s you! You’re the fucking reason why!

“Yeah,” you mutter, though you’re not sure if it’s in response to Kaminari or Bakugou’s. You drag on another sip but feel as sober as a judge. You feel like you’d need ten more before you could even deal with whatever shit Bakugou is pulling.

“Cheer up, baby,” Mina coos. “You know you’re a catch. Yuusei will know exactly what he lost.”

“I don’t care about him anymore,” you say, which is the complete truth. “I’m getting shitfaced because I feel like I’m about to make a very bad decision.”

“Um?” Kirishima voices worriedly. “Do we need to take you somewhere?”

Bakugou stands abruptly, jingling his car keys in between his fingers. “Come on.”

“Are you drunk?” he asks before you can even pretend to open your front door.

“I only smell like it, but I really am too clear-headed for this,” you swear.

The moment he pins you to the wall and buries his mouth into yours, you know you are gone. This is what Yuusei had been fearing, what you’d been hiding — and fuck, it feels so good. He kisses like he’s starving like he’s been holding back for as long as you are. The shame comes spilling out soon after.

“I just got broken up with,” you say in a futile attempt to ease your guilt. “Hey — Katsuki, do you even—”

“I know what I’m doin’,” he says, mouthing over where your jaw and neck meet. "I know you want me."

“God, this is so fucked up,” you say, trailing off in a whine that really says a lot about you. “I’m an asshole. You’re really good at kissing — Katsuki—”

“Try three years of patience and tell me again what’s more fucked up,” Katsuki rasps, breath searing a mark on your skin, inciting a shudder that came down from your toes to your dizzy head.

“You were waiting for Yuusei and me to break up?”

“I get what I want.” Katsuki pauses, his eyes flicking up, arresting yours for a breath. “And he was a dick. Was bettin’ since year one.”

You curl a strand of his untamed hair, unwittingly charmed. “Sorry for making you wait.”

He responds by capturing your lips in a kiss, prying your mouth open with his, licking in, biting, pulling, grinding, and —

Katsuki softens his hold on your hips, pushing off. “Hey.”

You pant. Wow, you think, lightheaded, you don’t think you’d ever been kissed that well. “Hey,” you exhale over his mouth.

Katsuki bears his forehead heavily down on yours. “This isn’t some one-night stand rebound bullshit, you hear me? I didn’t wait three years just to get my dick wet — we’re doin’ this shit, got that?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “You’re the best of all of them, right?”

[kateschi]

when the hero falls

synopsis: in a moment of vulnerability, katsuki finds himself battling a cold, but he—begrudgingly— lets you care for him.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

you were enjoying a peaceful afternoon when a series of loud, raspy sneezes echoed through the apartment, cutting through the stillness like a cannon.

you looked up from your book, eyebrows knitting together in concern. it wasn’t unusual for katsuki to be loud, but this sounded different—rougher.

a moment later, he stumbled into the living room, red-faced and rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“I’m fine. it’s just a cold, stop hoverin’,” he grumbled, but the slight crack in his voice betrayed him.

you set your book aside, the concern bubbling up inside you. “you sound like you swallowed gravel, katsuki,” you said, crossing your arms as you watched him stumble over to the couch.

“I’ve had worse. this ain’t nothin’,” he snapped, dropping down onto the cushions with a huff. he tried to lean back, but a harsh cough broke free from his chest, making you wince.

“right, because fighting villains with injuries is the same as dealing with a cold,” you retorted, walking over to him. “let me get you some medicine and a blanket.”

“I don’t need any damn—” he began, but you were already moving, determined to take care of him despite his protests.

as you rummaged through the cabinet, you heard him muttering under his breath. “y/n, I swear, it’s just a sniffle…”

you turned back with a bottle of cold medicine and a glass of water. “here, take this. it’ll help.”

he glared at you, the usual fire in his eyes dimmed by the heaviness of his sickness. “I said I’m fine.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms again. “you’re clearly not. you sound terrible.”

“you’re making it worse by fussing over me like I’m some kinda kid,” he huffed, but you caught the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost as if he was fighting a smile.

“sure, katsuki. you just keep sneezing like that,” you replied dryly, handing him the glass. “drink it.”

he took the glass reluctantly, grumbling about how unnecessary this all was, but you could see the way he tried to suppress another cough.

after a few moments, he downed the medicine with a grimace, the bitterness evident in his expression.

“there. that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you teased gently, setting the empty glass on the table.

he huffed, “whatever. it’s just a stupid cold.” but there was an undeniable softness in his eyes now, a flicker of appreciation peeking through his gruff facade.

“let me get you a blanket,” you said, moving back to the bedroom. you returned to find him slouched against the couch, trying to look nonchalant, but the way he rubbed his eyes told you everything.

you draped the blanket over him, tucking it in around his legs. “you look like a lost puppy,” you remarked, amusement lacing your voice.

“shut up,” he grumbled, burying his face in the fabric.

you could practically see the stubbornness radiating off him, but he didn’t shove the blanket away. in fact, he seemed to pull it closer, almost as if seeking the comfort it provided.

“want some soup?” you asked, moving back to the kitchen, knowing he wouldn’t refuse once he tasted it.

“no,” he said, but the slight crack in his voice revealed just how unconvincing he was.

you simply smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

as you started preparing the soup, you could hear him mumble under his breath. “I’m not sick.”

you chuckled softly. “sure, keep telling yourself that.”

by the time you brought the steaming bowl over, he had settled down a little more, the blanket wrapped around him like a shield. you handed it to him, watching as he accepted it with a resigned sigh.

“fine. just this once,” he muttered, starting to eat.

you smiled as you sat down beside him, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. “see? not so bad, right?”

he grumbled something incoherent, but you caught the way his eyes fluttered shut at your touch. you felt a warmth spread in your chest, knowing he was allowing himself to be vulnerable around you, even if he would never outright admit it.

“just promise me you’ll take care of yourself next time,” you said softly, glancing at him.

“yeah, yeah,” he grunted, but the way he leaned into your touch was answer enough.

as the soup began to work its magic, katsuki’s stubbornness started to melt away. his eyelids grew heavier, and you noticed him drifting in and out of coherence, the delirium of the cold clouding his usual sharp demeanor.

“y’know,” he mumbled, his voice thick with fatigue, “I hate being like this.” he was staring at you with a softness you rarely saw, the usual spark in his eyes dulled by illness.

“I know,” you said softly, leaning in a bit closer. “but it’s okay to let me take care of you.”

he shook his head weakly, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “you really don’t need to fuss over me like this.”

“fussing is my specialty when it comes to you,” you replied, unable to hide your smile.

his gaze softened as he reached out, intertwining your fingers. “well, I…appreciate it.” the sincerity in his tone made your heart flutter, cutting through the haze of his illness.

you squeezed his hand gently, teasingly saying, “just admit it, you love me taking care of you.”

“yeah, maybe,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. with a sigh of contentment, he let his eyes flutter closed, a hint of a smile still lingering on his lips. “don’t stop, okay?”

before you could respond, his head fell to the side, resting against your shoulder. you felt his grip tighten around your hand as he let out a soft sigh, the tension in his body finally easing.

“hey, I’m still awake!” he protested, but his voice was a mere whisper now, almost lost to the warm air of the room.

“sure you are,” you replied, unable to hide your smile as you stroked his hair gently.

“m’not sleeping…” he mumbled, but his eyes were closed, and you could hear the faint sound of his breathing evening out.

“okay, katsuki,” you said, letting the moment linger as you felt his body relax against you. “just rest.”

a few moments passed, and you thought he was finally asleep when he suddenly tightened his arms around you, pulling you closer. “stay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“always,” you replied softly, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest.

he buried his face against your neck, his body molding against yours as he drifted off completely, unfiltered affection pouring from him in the form of gentle hugs.

in that moment, he was no longer the explosive hero you knew but just your katsuki—vulnerable, tired, and utterly yours.

as the minutes passed, you thought he was fully asleep when you heard a faint whisper escape his lips, “love you.”

your heart swelled at his unexpected confession, a soft smile spreading across your face. you pulled him closer, feeling grateful for these quiet moments of tenderness and intimacy.

you settled into the embrace, your heart swelling as you held him close. you didn’t mind the warmth of his breath on your skin or the way he clung to you, knowing that this was a rare glimpse into the softer side of your husband.

you smiled to yourself, happy to be there for him, knowing he’d be back to his fiery self soon enough. for now, you’d let him be vulnerable, cherishing these moments of quiet tenderness.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[kateschi]

midnight check-in

synopsis: in the middle of the night, you are woken up by a call from your husband.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the phone buzzes on the nightstand, dragging you from the edge of sleep. squinting at the glowing screen, you see katsuki’s name flashing across it.

it’s late—past the time he should have been home, but not unusual given the unpredictability of hero work. swiping the call open, you press the phone to your ear, voice still heavy with sleep.

“did I wake you?”

his voice is rough, but familiar, crackling through the line like static.

there’s no apology in his tone, but you can hear the subtle hint of concern buried underneath, like he’s weighing whether he should’ve waited until morning to call.

“no,” you lie, sitting up and adjusting to the quiet darkness of the room. “it’s fine. what’s up? are you coming home soon?”

there’s a brief pause on the other end. you hear the faint shuffle of his gear, like he’s shifting in his seat, maybe still in the office or the agency car. “yeah, I’ll be home in a bit. just… wanted to check in.”

check in? katsuki doesn’t just check in. the man’s explosive, stubborn, and blunt to a fault—never the type to dance around what’s on his mind. so, when he calls you this late just to ‘check in,’ something feels off.

“everything okay?” you ask softly, leaning back against the headboard. your fingers toy with the edge of the blanket, tracing small patterns over the fabric.

“yeah, just a long-ass day,” he grumbles, his voice a little lower now. he’s tired, you can tell, but there’s something else lurking in the background of his words.

“didn’t mean to be out so late. I know I said I’d be back before—”

“katsuki,” you cut him off gently. “you don’t have to apologize for doing your job. I know how it is.”

he lets out a frustrated huff, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, the way he does when he’s feeling restless.

“still,” he mutters. “I said I’d be there, and I’m not. doesn’t sit right with me.”

your heart softens at that. even though his words are gruff, katsuki has always had a way of showing he cares—usually in his own roundabout, katsuki-style way.

“you’re here now,” you say, your voice a little warmer. “that’s what matters. I’m just glad you called.”

another pause, this one heavier. there’s a slight crackle from his end, like he’s shifting again, probably leaning back in whatever chair he’s stuck in, the tension still clinging to him.

“yeah, well… I didn’t wanna wake up and find out you’re pissed I didn’t get home.” there’s a touch of humor in his voice, and you can practically hear the smirk on his lips. “figured I’d save myself the trouble.”

you chuckle softly, shaking your head. “you’re not getting out of trouble that easily, katsuki.”

“darn,” he clicks his tongue, but the familiar grumble in his tone makes you smile. it’s his way of saying he missed you, without actually saying it.

for a moment, there’s just comfortable silence between you.

the sound of his steady breathing on the other end of the line makes your chest ache a little—wanting him here, not just on the other side of a phone.

“you almost home?” you ask quietly, the warmth of the blankets doing little to fill the empty space beside you.

“yeah.” his voice softens, dropping just enough that you can tell he’s not as guarded anymore. “should be there in about ten.”

“good,” you murmur, stifling a yawn as you sink further into the bed, imagining him walking through the door any minute now. “I’ll wait for you.”

there’s a beat, a moment where his breathing catches ever so slightly, before he grumbles again, but softer this time. “you don’t have to stay up for me, y/n.”

“I want to.”

the silence that follows feels different—warmer, like he’s smiling, even if you can’t see it. and maybe it’s the exhaustion in your voice, or the way you said it so matter-of-factly, but something in him shifts.

you hear him let out a quiet breath, the kind he only ever lets out when he’s alone with you.

“...you’re such a damn idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to it. just warmth.

you smile into the phone, eyes already half-closed. “takes one to know one.”

he snorts at that, a rare sound of amusement that you love catching him off-guard with. “whatever. just keep your ass in bed. I’ll be there soon.”

“mhm,” you hum, already feeling the drowsiness tugging at you again, but there’s something in the comfort of his voice that keeps you tethered.

you shift slightly, hugging the blanket closer, waiting for the familiar click of the front door. before you drift off entirely, you murmur, “love you, katsuki.”

there’s a pause, and for a moment, you think he’s hung up. but then, quietly, with all the weight of a promise, he replies.

“yeah. love you too.”

the call ends with a soft click, but even after, the warmth of his voice lingers in the quiet room. you smile to yourself, feeling the space beside you growing less empty by the minute.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[kateschi]

surprise delivery: husband edition!

synopsis: when you're just chilling after a rough mission, your husband makes an appearance to make your day better.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the day is brutal. patrols, villain takedowns, and media interviews—being a pro-hero means long hours with little time to breathe.

as you finally step into your shared apartment, all you want is to crash on the couch and shut out the world for a while. the second you close the door behind you, your hero jacket hits the floor with a thud.

just as you start making your way to the kitchen, the front door swings open, and in walks bakugou katsuki, your husband, still in his full hero gear.

his mask is off, revealing that ever-present scowl, though you can tell by the slight sag in his shoulders that he’s had a long day too.

"hey," he grunts as he kicks the door shut behind him, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you. in his hand is a plastic bag, the familiar sound of crinkling bringing a small smile to your lips.

"katsuki," you greet, raising an eyebrow. "didn’t expect you back so early. thought you were still on patrol."

he throws the bag onto the kitchen counter with a huff. "got a break. figured I’d check in on you. heard your last fight was a pain in the ass."

you smile despite yourself. "it was fine. nothing I couldn’t handle."

he shoots you a look, his eyes narrowing. "yeah, yeah. you say that every damn time, but you look like you’ve been through hell."

"you’re one to talk," you shoot back, gesturing toward his own disheveled appearance.

his hero suit is scuffed, his gauntlets still covered in dust from whatever explosion-filled chaos he’s left behind. "looks like you weren’t exactly on a peaceful walk yourself."

"I handled it just fine," he says, waving off your concern. "anyway, shut up and look in the bag."

amused, you walk over to the kitchen and peek inside. to your surprise, it’s packed with your favorite snacks—energy bars, flavored drinks, and even a bag of those chips you always crave after a tough day.

you pull one out, giving him a teasing look. "you got this for me?"

he crosses his arms, looking away with a grunt. "don’t get all mushy on me. you’re not invincible, and I’m not gonna let you crash and burn because you’re too stubborn to take a break."

your heart warms at his blunt words. it’s such a katsuki thing to do—care deeply but cover it with his tough, no-nonsense attitude. "thanks," you say softly, popping open a drink. "I needed this."

he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his cheeks tainted a barely noticeable pink, "damn right you did."

you both lean against the kitchen counter, sharing a quiet moment as you sip your drink. the silence isn’t awkward—after years of working as pro-heroes and being married, you’ve grown comfortable in these rare moments of peace together.

still, the concern for each other is ever-present, unspoken yet deeply felt.

"how’s your arm?" katsuki asks suddenly, his sharp eyes scanning over you. you look down, realizing he’s talking about the burn you got in your last battle.

"it’s nothing," you reply, brushing it off. "just a scratch."

"bullshit," he mutters, stepping closer and taking your wrist gently, though his grip is firm. he inspects the burn with a scowl, clearly not pleased. "you’ve gotta be more careful."

you smile up at him. "and you’ve gotta stop blowing up everything in your path. not everyone can walk away unscathed like you, mr. dynamight."

he grunts, letting go of your wrist. "I’m not the one who got singed." his brow furrows slightly, a rare moment of softness crossing his features. "you know I hate seeing you hurt."

the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a second, the busy world of pro-hero work melts away. in moments like this, it’s easy to forget how explosive and brash he usually is.

beneath all of it, he’s someone who cares deeply for you, even if he has a funny way of showing it.

"I know," you say gently. "but I can handle it."

he scoffs but doesn’t argue, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. "I know you can."

just as you’re about to make another playful comment, his phone buzzes, breaking the peaceful moment. katsuki glances at it, his expression darkening in annoyance.

"damn it. I’ve gotta head back."

your heart sinks a little, though you know this is just the reality of being heroes—time together is always cut short. "already?"

"yeah," he mutters, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "heroes don’t get long breaks." he hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you. "but listen, don’t go out on any more patrols tonight. you’ve done enough. rest."

you raise an eyebrow. "you know I don’t need you babying me, right?"

"yeah, well, too bad," he shoots back with a smirk, pulling you closer by the waist. "I’m your damn husband, and I say you’re staying home."

you roll your eyes, leaning into his chest. "bossy."

"it’s for your own good, y/n; you know that," he mutters, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "so, take a break. eat the snacks. watch some tv, I don’t care. just… don’t go bein’ reckless while I’m not around."

you smile, warmed by the concern under his rough words. "fine. but don’t come back looking like you’ve been through a war zone, okay? I’d like my husband in one piece."

he smirks, his signature cocky grin spreading across his face. "please. it’ll take more than a couple of lowlife villains to take me down."

with that, he steps away, grabbing his gauntlets and heading toward the door. but just before he leaves, he turns back, his voice softer but still carrying that familiar bite. "save me some of those snacks, yeah?"

you chuckle, nodding. "yeah, yeah. go be a hero."

he huffs, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "try not to miss me too much."

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[kateschi]

after the dust settles

synopsis: after a tiring mission, your husband insists on treating your injuries.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: soft bakugou makes me wanna cry bro i love him

after the chaos of your latest mission, exhaustion hits you like a freight train. every bruise, every cut stings now that the adrenaline has worn off.

you and katsuki stumble into your apartment, both battered but too stubborn to acknowledge just how bad it really is. the silence is thick between you as you try to catch your breath.

without a word, katsuki heads straight for the bathroom, rummaging through the cabinets with the sound of clattering supplies echoing in the background.

before you can even think about patching yourself up, he returns with the first-aid kit and drops it onto the table with a thud.

you’re just about to reach for the antiseptic when katsuki swats your hand away, his scowl as fierce as ever.

"what do you think you’re doing?" his voice has that familiar gruffness, but there’s an edge of concern laced in there if you listen close enough.

“I’m handling it,” you reply, already dabbing at a cut on your arm.

“like hell you are,” he grumbles, snatching the wipe from your hand. "let me do it."

before you can argue, he crouches in front of you, wiping the blood off your skin with surprising gentleness. despite the scowl etched on his face, his touch is careful, almost delicate.

it’s in these quiet moments that you can feel how much he cares—hidden behind his bark and explosive temper.

“you were reckless out there,” he mutters, focusing on cleaning a particularly nasty scrape on your shoulder. “could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

you raise an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I wasn’t the only one being reckless, katsuki.”

he grunts but doesn’t argue, dabbing at your wound a little harder than necessary, though it’s clear he’s holding back. "I had it handled."

you can’t help but chuckle softly. “sure you did.”

his eyes flick up to meet yours, the intensity softening for just a moment. “you’re always getting yourself into stupid situations.”

you’re about to fire back when you notice the cut above his eyebrow, blood dripping down the side of his face. “look who’s talking. you’re bleeding too.”

katsuki scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m fine. just stay still so I can finish this.”

but even as he speaks, you catch the way his fingers linger a little longer on your skin, a rare moment of tenderness slipping through the cracks in his usual rough demeanor.

he’s trying to act tough—he always does—but there’s something in the way he’s looking at you that tells you more than his words ever could.

“let me help you now,” you insist, reaching for the first-aid kit once he’s done bandaging your arm.

“I don’t need it,” he snaps, but you’re already gently wiping the blood from his forehead.

“katsuki,” you say quietly, using his full name instead of the usual playful jabs. his eyes widen just a bit at the sound, and for a second, he doesn’t protest.

you’re close enough now to feel his breath hitch ever so slightly as your fingers brush his cheek, and you can see the way his scowl softens, if only for a moment.

you patch him up in silence, your movements careful as you tend to his wounds. he grumbles under his breath, but there’s no real fire behind his words.

when you’re done, you give his cheek a light pat, a teasing smile on your lips. “all patched up. see? not so bad.”

he huffs, leaning back into the couch. "you’re still a pain in the ass."

you chuckle, sinking down beside him, letting the comfortable silence settle in. but then, he surprises you.

“y/n,” he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual.

you turn to him, the use of your name catching you off guard. he’s still looking straight ahead, his eyes focused on nothing in particular, but there’s a softness in his tone that’s undeniable.

“I’m serious. you need to stop getting hurt like this.”

for a second, you’re speechless. katsuki isn’t the type to say things so openly, and while his words are gruff as always, you can hear the worry threaded between them.

“I’m a pro hero, katsuki,” you say softly. “it’s part of the job.”

he turns to look at you then, his red eyes meeting yours with a rare, intense sincerity. “yeah, well... you’re my wife, too.”

the words hang in the air for a moment, heavy with the weight of everything he’s not saying out loud. and in that moment, you feel the full force of his love—unspoken, but always there.

you smile softly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I know.”

he doesn’t say anything after that, just wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[r4spb3rr13s]

things they do that make your heart skip a beat

♱ bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, todoroki, kaminari, shinsou

fluffy and suggestive 😔

disclaimer this could all js be niche stuff i find attractive…

bakugou

♱ wears black compression shirts and tank tops that cling to his biceps, shows uncharacteristic patience helping you with schoolwork, blushes when he catches you looking at him, grabs your hips when he walks past you, cooks shirtless with a ‘kiss the cook’ apron on, chronic manspreader, reverses the car with his hand on your seat and looking over his shoulder yk exactly what im talking about

kirishima

♱ makes you sit on his back when he does press ups - will then proceed to do one handed press ups while grinning at you in the gym mirror, poses after a work out for you, wipes stuff off your face and (if edible duh) licks it off his thumb, has the worlds deepest morning voice, hugs you from behind CONSTANTLY - if he could glue himself to your backside you better believe he would

midoriya

♱ IS RESPECTFUL TO HIS MOTHER 😫😫, will hurl himself out the car to come open your door for you, gives you the most insightful opinions of clothes, makeup, whatever, rubs his thumb over your hand when he holds your hand, holds the door open for you without a second thought, the sidewalk rule <3, saves every. single. photo. you send him

todoroki

♱ pays for everything before you can protest, sends you flowers with little notes attached randomly, brushes/styles your hair for you, will sit for hours in changing rooms w you and make you do 360s for every outfit, takes candids of you and refuses to delete any of them, constantly leans down so you can speak in his ear and you get a big whiff of his fancy cologne, speaks diff languages 🥹

kaminari

♱ leans his hands on the tops of doorways when he’s talking to you, pulls you in by your belt loops to talk to you, leans over in the middle of serious conversations to whisper a stupid joke in your ear that you have to struggle not to cackle at, wears rings and lets you play with them, calls you “m’lady” and “ma’am” when you’re annoyed at him, whenever he zips you up in a dress or buttons you up he’ll kiss the back of your neck and your shoulders, is really good with his little baby and toddler cousins 🩷🩷🩷

shinsou

♱ “yeah?” “mhmm?” WHEEWWW SIR, plays guitar for you and sends u vids of him playing songs u request, stretches and his shirts always lift up to show off his happy trail 🙂‍↕️, drags you down to sit in his lap for EVERY activity he does - paperwork, video games, whatever, has constant bedroom eyes???, tugs on your hair to get your attention, had to lean back and adjust himself everytime he sits down bc he wears the baggiest pants in existence

do i need to start a taglist?