katsuki's @blastiebabe - Tumblr Blog

❛ second date ☆ ❜ — 18+ SMUT ⤷ pro hero!katsuki bakugo x civilian!reader (wc 12k)

synopsis: your 1st date with bakugo katsuki went...terrific!! what do you have planned for your 2nd date? tags: smut,public sex, picnic, making out, creampie, switch!bakugo, switch!reader, awkward and funny, reader is a cutie pie, bakugo is a virgin a/n: i was trying to play w/ the prospect of slightly more serious bakugo idk sorry enjoy

your room is quiet except for the hum of your old box fan and the little plinks from your phone. it’s late but you’re wired, cheeks still warm from smiling too much. your fingers dance over the screen, pausing—rewriting, deleting, grinning to yourself like you’ve got a secret. finally you just send it, quick and honest: had so much fun tonight! hope i get to see you again :)

you fall back into the pillows, phone on your chest, staring at the ceiling, memories swirling together like honey. the city is distant outside, just a handful of sirens and the flicker of passing cars, but in your head it’s only the golden glow of the izakaya where you and katsuki met up—how he was already waiting, arms crossed, scowl set, but it melted a little when you bounced over, practically skipping introducing himself.

you can’t help the soft laugh that bubbles out as you remember how stiff he was at first, glaring at the menu. your knees nearly brushed under the table, and you remember talking, just talking, about music and bad work stories and whether you’d ever try skydiving. bakugo was quiet, mostly, answering in those rough, careful bursts that made you lean in just to catch what he said.

at some point, over skewers and soda, he admitted, low and gruff that, “i’m not… used to this kinda stuff. my friends… they set me up for this.” he looked everywhere but your eyes, thumb picking at a water ring on the table. the flush of his cheeks pink.

your heart had just squeezed at that, so you teased, gentle, “so… did you wanna leave?” you tried to sound casual, but your voice went up at the end, betraying your nerves. his eyes snapped up—serious, almost fierce. “no. no, i just…” he cleared his throat, looking away, “it’s just… this is my first date. ever.”

the way he said it—flat, defensive, almost like a challenge—made you want to reach out and hold his hand right there. but you just beamed, feeling giddy, letting the silence stretch a little before you said, “oh!” and then, “that’s so cool. i’m really glad it’s with me.” and your voice was soft, a little shaky, but so, so excited. you swore you saw him smirk for half a second, but maybe it was the lighting.

your phone buzzes—he texted back, shorter than you, but the words are like fireworks in your chest:

yeah. i had fun too. wouldn’t mind seein’ you again. you still owe me dessert, dumbass.

you hug your pillow, giggling.

you get used to the rhythm of it—messages from him dropped in between patrols and press conferences, sometimes a little gruff voice memo when he’s half-awake or half-bored on stakeout, sometimes just a quick “mornin’” or a blurry photo of his protein shake, and every time you see his name pop up your stomach flips like it’s brand new.

it’s easy, though, even with the distance. you babble about your day: the new bakery you tried, the old man you saw walking six chihuahuas at once, the time you almost set off the fire alarm trying to broil your lunch (he sent you three separate texts yelling about fire safety after that one). he always reads everything—even if his replies come hours later, you can tell he’s listening, the way he remembers every tiny thing, the way he’ll grumble, “so how’s that cactus you were talkin’ about, still dyin’?” and you’ll laugh because yes, it’s absolutely still dying.

then one afternoon, just when you’re thinking about him a little too hard, your phone lights up with his name.

hey. we should do another date.

you nearly drop your phone, texting back way too fast, oh my gosh yes katsuki!! can i pick this time??

he leaves you waiting a full minute—long enough for you to nearly panic—then:

yeah. sure. you seem excited to. just don’t make me do any of that artsy shit.

you let out a breathless laugh, hugging your knees to your chest, and type back, promise!! i have an idea… i think you’ll like it.

his answer comes back, quick and a little softer: as long as it’s with you, don’t care what we do.

you stare at the screen, grinning like a fool, already picturing it—him, the picnic, the sun, maybe that blue-and-yellow sundress you just bought for no reason except that you hoped, maybe, he’d get to see you in it.

you’re in the grocery store, weaving your cart through the aisles like it’s a race, voice low as you send katsuki a rapid-fire string of texts: hey, what kinda fruit do you actually like? are you allergic to anything? do you hate mayo? what about mustard? he sends back a grumpy, i don’t care, just no pickles or raisins. and don’t make anything weird. you can almost hear his voice—flat, unimpressed, but there’s an edge of playfulness tucked in there.

you end up lingering by the deli for way too long, debating ham or turkey or both, tossing both in the cart with a little flourish because he’ll probably eat them either way. you grab strawberries and kiwi and thick, soft bread for fruit sandwiches. the whip cream goes in last, a little indulgence for later. there’s juice boxes for you and some canned coffee for him, just in case.

by the time you get home, you’re humming, bouncing on your toes as you unpack everything. your group chat is blowing up but all you care about is arranging things just so—cutting sandwiches into little triangles, stacking fruit in rainbow colors, fussing over every detail because, well, this is bakugo.

your phone buzzes—a new message from katsuki:

what’re you up to today?

your heart does a silly little skip, and before you can think better of it, you tap the record button and send a voice memo instead. “hi, katsuki! i’m getting stuff ready for our date! i got all the things you like, and i promise i didn’t get any weird stuff. it’s gonna be so cute, i can’t wait! i hope you like strawberries—oh, and i remembered the drink you like. okay, see you soon!”

it’s bright and bubbly, a little breathless from excitement, and you don’t even care if you sound ridiculous. you hit send and fall back on your bed, cheeks hot, grinning so hard your face hurts.

on his end, katsuki listens to your voice memo twice—once for the words, once just for the sound of you, so soft and sweet, the kind of softness he never lets himself admit he needs. he saves it, tucks it away for later, shakes his head like he’s annoyed, but can’t stop the way his lips curl at the edges. for all his bark, he’s weak for you—especially like this.

the night settles in slow, heavy and humming. you’re in your room again, string lights glowing, pajama shorts and hair pulled back. the last of your energy has all gone into making sure the sandwiches are perfect and the strawberries are cut just right. you check your phone a dozen times—nothing.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you flick on the tv and sure enough, there he is, ground zero in all his blazing, explosive glory. he’s barking orders at the scene, smoke and city lights throwing sparks behind him, and you find yourself holding your breath until he finally walks out of frame. you feel your heart unclench, the familiar ache of caring for someone whose world is always teetering between chaos and safety.

so you send the only message you can:

i hope you’re safe. please be careful, katsuki!

you put your phone face down on the pillow and brush your teeth, putter around your room, try to will the worry away. by the time you slip under the covers, the city has quieted and you’re more tired than you thought. the picnic basket is packed by your door. you check your phone again, just once more before sleep.

it buzzes, lighting up with his name—late, nearly midnight.

sorry. i’m fine. have a good night. can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

it’s short, but it feels like the most important thing in the world. you hug your phone, whisper “goodnight, katsuki” into the dark, knowing he can’t hear you but hoping somehow he feels it. there’s a thrill in your chest, a little spark that makes it impossible to sleep right away, but you don’t mind. tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

the sun’s barely up and you’re still tangled in your sheets, hair wild, pillow creased to your cheek when the doorbell jolts you out of that half-dream haze. you mumble something half-intelligible, feet dragging as you shuffle to the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

you open it to a delivery guy who barely looks up from his tablet. “uh, are you—” he reads your name off the label.

you nod, still half-asleep. “that’s me,” you yawn, voice soft and fuzzy.

he hands over a bouquet so big you have to fumble for it with both hands—sunflowers and wildflowers and these almost comically red roses, all packed in a way that feels both wild and perfectly precise. the delivery guy gives you a nod and is gone before you can ask a single question.

you close the door, arms full of color, already grinning as you scan for a card. it’s tucked right in the middle, scribbled with bold, blocky handwriting that makes you laugh out loud:

from dynamight with love.

you press the card to your chest, practically bouncing in your fuzzy socks, cheeks burning with that bright kind of happiness that chases away every last bit of sleep. you grab your phone, arrange the bouquet in the morning light, and snap a quick photo—flowers spilling out of your arms, your smile impossible to hide.

the message you type is quick, your excitement bubbling over:

look what i woke up to!! you’re so sweet, katsuki. thank you, thank you! see you soon, cutie!

you hit send, hugging the flowers like they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to you. maybe today is already perfect.

the water is still steaming when you step out of the shower, skin all rosy and hair damp at the ends. you flip through your closet with music playing low, fingers gliding over hangers until you stop at the dress—a sundress, light and flowy, soft yellow with little white flowers, something that always made you feel a little extra pretty. flats because you want to be comfortable, and then you find your favorite bow clip, pinning it at the back of your hair with a satisfied little grin.

the kitchen smells like strawberries and fresh bread as you pull out all your careful preparations—fruit sandwiches stacked neatly, ham and turkey triangles, juice boxes, everything you fussed over last night. you pack it into the basket, trying to make it look cute and easy, like you didn’t obsess over every detail. the flowers from katsuki stand guard on the table, bright and proud.

your phone lights up with his name.

you want me to pick you up or are we meeting there?

your fingers fly over the screen, heart skipping.

would it be super sweet of you to pick me up? i’d love that!

he replies almost instantly:

tch. yeah, i can do that. i’ll be there in twenty. don’t make me wait.

your phone buzzes and it’s him, short and to the point as ever:

i’m downstairs.

you barely manage to grab your basket, nearly forgetting your phone in the rush, practically floating down the steps. every bounce in your stride is a little more dramatic than the last, sundress fluttering, bow clip catching the light. you spot his car parked right at the curb—sleek, familiar, a little intimidating but totally him. you wave both arms like you’re flagging down a lifeboat, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt.

bakugo watches you through the windshield, muttering under his breath, “jeez, she’s so damn happy—how is she always like this?” he tries to glare, but it’s a half-hearted effort today. he catches a glimpse of his own face in the rearview mirror and stops—his cheeks are flushed pink, ears burning.

“shit,” he grumbles, rubbing at his jaw like it might hide the color.

when you reach his car, you don’t hesitate, just throw open the passenger door and all but tumble in, food basket carefully balanced on your knees, flowers clutched in one hand. “good morning, katsuki!” you beam at him, so bright, so natural, like it’s the most ordinary thing in the world to be this happy just to see him.

bakugo just shakes his head, mouth tugging up in a way he’d never admit is a smile, and mumbles, “yeah, yeah, buckle up. let’s get this over with before you explode or something.” but he’s still sneaking glances, his heart thumping so loud he’s sure you can hear it.

he throws the car into drive, glancing at the basket perched on your lap, his curiosity getting the better of him. “so where are we goin’? you got all this shit with you,” he grunts, trying not to sound too interested.

you practically wriggle with excitement, twisting the bow in your hair. “i made us a picnic! remember how you said i owed you dessert? well, i made you some instead. i hope you’re ready for the best sandwiches and fruit and everything, because i went all out for you, katsuki!”

he just nods, eyes fixed on the road, but you catch the way his lips twitch and his ears pink up. “they better be good,” he mumbles, voice low and half-playful.

you giggle, can’t help it, bouncing a little in your seat. “i hope so too. i practiced and everything! but, uh, if they’re not, you have to pretend they are, deal?”

he snorts, shooting you a quick sideways look—smirk barely there, but warm. “no promises. if it’s shit, i’ll let you know. but…” he clears his throat, glancing away, “…thanks. for doing this.”

the way he says it makes your chest flutter. you squeeze the basket, peeking over at him, sunshine pouring in the window. “anytime, katsuki. you’re worth the effort.”

the drive stretches on, windows cracked, his playlist thrumming through the speakers—a lot of hard guitar and wild drums, something you could only picture for katsuki. the city blurs past in streaks of glass and green, your basket snug between your knees, your gaze drifting from the skyline to the stubborn angle of his jaw.

sometimes you peek at him, but mostly you watch the world outside, content in the quiet. it’s the kind of silence that feels good, charged with promise, not pressure. every now and then you hum along to the music, just soft enough that he doesn’t roll his eyes.

after a while, he breaks the hush, voice rumbling: “y’know, i’m surprised you’re not talkin’ about my hero shit. everyone does.”

you turn to him, wide-eyed. “well, i mean, i don’t wanna bother you. it’s like, uh… having a doctor for a boyfriend and asking him to patch you up every time you get a paper cut.” you fidget with your bow, trying to sound wise but coming off a little sheepish.

he gives you this blank look, one eyebrow ticking up. “that’s… completely wrong.”

you laugh, embarrassed, waving your hands. “okay, yeah, maybe that’s not the best example! i just—i figured you get enough of that stuff all day, y’know? i don’t wanna be another fan, i wanna be your…” you stumble a little, cheeks getting hot, “…uh, friend? person? date? oh, god, i’m making this weird, aren’t i?”

he huffs, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitch. “you’re overthinking it.”

“yeah, i do that,” you admit, grinning now, rolling your eyes at yourself. “but seriously, i just wanna get to know you, katsuki. not just dynamight. but, like, if you ever wanna talk about hero stuff, i’d listen! i just… don’t wanna annoy you.”

he glances at you, the sunlight catching the red in his eyes, and after a pause, he mutters, “you don’t annoy me.”

and you can’t help but beam, all sunshine and softness, the rest of the drive warm with the kind of easy quiet that feels like summer.

the car barely rolls to a stop before you’re already unbuckled, practically hopping out onto the curb, sundress spinning with you. you grab the basket, barely able to contain how giddy you are just to finally be here, the sun warm on your shoulders and the world open and green and full of possibility.

bakugo slams his door and meets you at the front, hands in his pockets, expression half-grumpy, half-curious. “i don’t mean any offense,” he mutters, “but why the hell are you always so damn excited about everything?”

you laugh, not even close to offended, shrugging with a little bounce on your toes. “no offense taken! i dunno, i just… like to live life happily, y’know? there’s so much stuff happening every day. i don’t wanna miss any of the good parts. if i get to smile and be happy, i’m gonna take it! besides, who wants to walk around all gloomy all the time?”

he squints at you, pretending to be annoyed, but there’s a softness there you can’t miss. “tch. guess that makes sense. s’not like the world needs more grumps.”

you beam at him, swinging the picnic basket a little. “exactly! and anyway, you’re pretty cute when you’re not scowling. so… ready for the best picnic ever, katsuki?”

he rolls his eyes, but he’s fighting a smile, trailing after you as you search for the perfect spot under the trees. “you better not be overselling this, sunshine.”

you’re walking together, close enough that your shoulders almost brush, your steps all light and fizzy while his stomp in that “don’t mess with me” kind of way. you can’t help but grin up at him, half expecting actual storm clouds to gather above his head—he’s got that energy, all scowl and stubborn jaw, arms crossed till you nudge him with your elbow.

the park is blissfully empty, just a few birds and the lazy rush of water in the distance. every spot you pass—near the river, the neat rows of white columns, the little gazebo half swallowed by ivy—feels too open, too ordinary for today. you’re looking around, bouncing on your toes, when bakugo suddenly grunts and points, “there. over there by the waterfall, s’way more private.”

you follow his gaze—tucked away behind a bend in the path is a little patch of grass, half-hidden by tall wildflowers and the spray of a gentle waterfall that trickles down mossy stone. “oh, wonderful!!” you squeal, barely able to contain yourself.

before you can even thank him, he reaches out, grabbing the basket from your hands—not gently, but not mean either, just in that rough, efficient way of his, like he’s saving you from yourself. you smile up at him, and, on pure instinct, your fingers slip into his free hand, lacing together with all the ease in the world.

he freezes, basket dangling from his other hand, the tips of his ears going crimson. he tries to huff and look away, but you can see the bashful little smirk fighting to escape. “quit lookin’ at me like that,” he mumbles, squeezing your hand anyway.

“sorry,” you chirp, “you’re just too cute.”

he scowls, but you see the way his eyes flick down to your dress, his jaw clenching, thunderclouds giving way to something much warmer as you pull him. bakugo barely resists as you tug him along, the basket bumping at his knee. his eyes are glued to you, even when he tries to look anywhere else—he can’t help it. there’s something hypnotic about the way your sundress moves, the soft cling of fabric hugging your waist, the flutter every time you step just a little too quick and your hips sway, your butt jiggling with a bounce that has him swallowing hard.

he tries to distract himself, glancing at the flowers, the sparkle of the waterfall ahead, but your laughter rings in the air, sweeter than any birdsong. sunlight glances off your skin, tracing your bare shoulders and the stretch of your calves, warm and golden and impossibly soft. the little bow in your hair wobbles as you lead him, a ribbon of color bouncing along, and he finds himself biting back a smile because—hell, you really did dress up for him.

he never gets that, not like this. not someone so happy just to be with him. not someone who lights up a whole park just by walking through it, who’s already making him forget what it was ever like to be bored or cold or alone.

he follows, heart pounding, hands itching to tug you closer, and for the first time he thinks maybe picnics aren’t so lame after all.

you gasp as the waterfall comes into view, sunlight splintering off the spray and making the whole little clearing look magical—like something out of a storybook. “oh my god, look how pretty!” you blurt, you turn to bakugo, eyes shining, and set the basket down. you fuss with the cloth, shaking it out until it floats down perfectly over the grass, smoothing out every wrinkle. you pat the spot next to you, glancing up with that irresistible grin.

he stands there for a second, hands jammed in his pockets, brow furrowed like he’s still not totally convinced this isn’t some kind of elaborate prank. “so… what do we do now?” he grumbles, eyeing the setup suspiciously.

you sit down cross-legged, wiggling in place and patting the space beside you again. “it’s a picnic, silly! we just sit and talk, eat good stuff, and enjoy the view—nature, the waterfall, each other.” you toss him a wink, playful and bright.

bakugo rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath, but he lowers himself down beside you anyway, legs sprawled out, glancing sidelong at you like he’s secretly glad you’re here to teach him how to be soft for a little while.

bakugo settles onto the blanket with a grunt, elbows on his knees, watching you work. you don’t seem to notice how his gaze lingers—how he keeps glancing at your hands, at the way your face scrunches in concentration as you arrange everything just so. you line up the cups (juice for you, coffee for him, water for both, because you’re thoughtful like that), stack the sandwiches into a little tower, and fan out the fruit—strawberries, kiwi, plump grapes—making it look like something out of a magazine.

you finish with a flourish, hands in the air: “ta-da!” your laughter bubbles out next, soft and sheepish. “it’s not much, but… i thought you’d really enjoy having peace. just… you know, for one day.” your eyes are gentle, all kind and concern.

bakugo goes still, staring at you as the words sink in. peace. you did all this—just so he could have a break from the world, from the noise, from all the eyes and expectations. you wanted him to rest. his chest tightens, something soft and sharp blooming behind his chest, making him scowl just to hide it.

jeez, he thinks, you are such a cute fucking sucker. he wants to bark at you, tease you, but the words get tangled up in his throat. instead he just grabs a sandwich, takes a big bite, and grumbles, “yeah, well… s’not bad. pretty good, actually.”

he doesn’t say thank you, but the way he leans a little closer, the way his knee brushes yours and stays there—well, you don’t need the words. bakugo’s never felt more seen, or more at peace, than right here with you. damn it, he might actually be falling for you.

he finds himself watching you, even when he tries not to—can’t help it, not with the way your whole face lights up when you talk. you pull out your phone, scrolling with sticky fruit fingers, and shove the screen at him, nearly dropping a strawberry in his lap.

“look! look at this one—he’s wearing a tiny hat!” you burst out laughing before he’s even seen the punchline, giggles tumbling out of you like you can’t hold them in. your eyes crinkle at the corners, cheeks round, lips glossy from fruit and sun.

bakugo glances at the meme, unimpressed. it’s just a chubby cat in a hat. it’s not that funny. but you—doubled over, snorting, tears in your eyes from how stupid it is—you’re so damn earnest it knocks the wind out of him.

he shakes his head, trying to look annoyed, but the corners of his mouth betray him, tugging up into a smile so small you might miss it. “you’re such a dork,” he mutters, but his voice is soft, warm.

the only thing he really wants to look at is you.

you flop onto your stomach, chin in your hands, legs swaying back and forth, sundress fluttering in the breeze. you pat the blanket beside you, grinning up at bakugo. “c’mon, lay down! the sky looks better from here.”

he rolls his eyes but relents, stretching out beside you, propping himself on an elbow. the grass is cool against your skin, the waterfall a steady hush behind you, wind weaving songs through the trees overhead.

you turn your head, eyes curious and gentle. “so… why’d you let your friends set us up anyway?”

he grunts, picking at a blade of grass. “dunno. they wouldn’t shut up about it. kept goin’ on and on about how i need a girlfriend, or i’m gonna be a grumpy old man forever.” he scowls, but there’s no real heat in it. “wasn’t even my main focus, y’know? but they made this dumb profile, started swiping left and right. finally just got tired of them pestering me, so i just… picked you.”

your lips curl in a teasing smile. “oh, you picked me, huh?”

he glances at you, eyes dark and serious under the messy fringe. “yeah. i did. every other extra just wanted to talk about dynamight. ‘what’s it like fighting villains?’ ‘oh my god, can you blow something up for me?’” he shrugs, nose wrinkling a little. “you didn’t. you talked to me. just… me.”

your smile softens, warmth blooming in your chest. “lucky me, then.”

he huffs, but his gaze lingers, sunlight catching the gold in his eyes. “yeah. lucky you.” but from the way he looks at you, it’s obvious he thinks he’s the lucky one.

you laugh, burying your face in your arms for a second before glancing sideways at him, cheeks flushed and eyes teasing. “well, maybe the other girls are more fun or cooler than me! maybe they just got excited because they could date a hero. who wouldn’t want that?”

he rolls his eyes so hard it’s almost theatrical, but there’s a huff of laughter in it. “yeah, right. half of ’em didn’t even get my name right. and the rest? just wanted to say they went out with dynamight, not katsuki.” his voice is softer now, a little gruff but not unkind. “i don’t want someone who thinks i’m just a headline. i want someone who actually wants me. and you… you’re plenty fun... and cooler than any of those extras, so… shut up.”

he nudges your leg with his knee, refusing to meet your eyes, ears going just a bit pink. “besides. i’d rather have you than anyone who just wants a piece of the hero. got it?”

your heart trips at the way he says it—so clumsy, so earnest, like every word is being dragged out of him one stubborn inch at a time. you beam at him, chin in your hands, voice low and sweet. “yeah, katsuki. i got it.”

you can’t help it—you have to poke at him, just a little. you nudge his shoulder, all sly smile and playful eyes. “so… does this mean we’re official? boyfriend and girlfriend already?”

he doesn’t even hesitate, snorts a little. “if you can handle it, yeah. i’d rather not do a do-over again with someone else.” his tone is tired, but you can tell he means every word, his gaze steady and his ears burning red.

you burst out laughing, rolling onto your back so you can look up at the sky, hair fanned out in the grass. “c’mon, katsuki! we’re not even thaaat deep in our relationship. this is only our second date! you’re moving quick, aren’t you?” he scoffs, crossing his arms and looking anywhere but your face, but there’s a stubborn little smirk at the corner of his mouth. “yeah, well. that’s one too many already. see? don’t need a second date to figure out I wanna be with ya.”

the wind rustles through the leaves, and you look over at him, warmth blooming everywhere inside you. “good thing, katsuki. i don’t need any more dates to know i wanna be with you, either.”

you grab a strawberry, the biggest and ripest you can find, and give it a generous dollop of whipped cream, careful not to let it topple. you lean over, all grin and mischief, holding it out to bakugo with an expectant wiggle of your brows.

he eyes you suspiciously, as if this is some sort of elaborate trick, then huffs, rolling his eyes. “you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but he leans in anyway.

his lips brush your fingers as he takes a bite—soft, warm, lingering just a beat longer than necessary. a smear of whipped cream lingers at the corner of his mouth, and you both freeze for a second, a little too aware, a little too close.

he chews, finally swallowing with a grunt. “not bad,” he says, voice just a little lower than before, “could use more cream, though.”

your heart flutters as you laugh, barely able to look away from his mouth. you cock your head, grinning, eyes all bright mischief. “oh, you want more cream? i’ll give you more cream.”

you grab another fat strawberry, practically drown it in whipped cream this time, and lean in, pressing it right to his lips. he opens his mouth, but you smear the cream on purpose, leaving a generous dollop on the corner of his mouth and a streak across his lower lip. he blinks, startled—then narrows his eyes at you, but you’re already doubled over, giggling so hard you nearly tip the basket.

“you little brat,” he grumbles, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, but he doesn’t really mind, not when you’re laughing like that, sunlight making your eyes sparkle. your laughter is infectious, ringing through the little clearing, and for a second he just sits there, dumbfounded by how easy it is to let his guard down around you.

he leans over, scooping some cream off his own lip, smirking now. “think you’re real funny, huh?” but his voice is warm, almost soft, and you can’t help but stare at him, heart thudding wild, thinking you might want to do this every day forever.

bakugo doesn’t let you get away with it, not for a second. he dips his finger into the can, gets a big dollop of whipped cream, and before you can react, he swipes it right across your upper lip, giving you a perfect little cream mustache.

you burst into laughter, head thrown back, clutching your sides. “oh my god, katsuki!” your voice rings out, bright and delighted.

he just sits there, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, watching you lose it. but then you lean forward, still grinning, and lick your upper lip—slow, playful, making a show of getting every bit of cream off.

bakugo’s eyes flicker, locked on your mouth, a flush rising in his cheeks. the sight of you—sundress, that messy bow, licking cream off your lips—does something to him, tightens something in his chest and drops his jaw just a little.

“you’re a mess,” he grumbles, but his gaze is hungry, voice rough, it’s clear he’s not thinking about food anymore.

you flop back down on the blanket, hair spilling around you, eyes half-lidded with contentment. you let out a little sigh, voice soft and genuine. “this is such a great day, katsuki. i’m really having a great day.”

he leans back on his palms, legs stretched out, eyes on the water, then on you. “yeah. it’s a good day,” he says, almost casual, but the way he says it is gentle, his usual edge softened just for you.

he doesn’t say the rest—how it feels like every knot in his shoulders is finally loosening, how he can almost forget the world is full of villains and interviews and noise. how he hasn’t had a day this simple and good in years, not since before all the hero work and fame made it hard to just… be. the sunlight and your laughter, your easy smile, the way you look at him like he’s just katsuki and not dynamight—it all pulls the tension out of him, makes his chest ache in a good way.

he glances over, sees you watching him with that sunny, peaceful look, and for a second, he lets himself just feel it—just live in this moment, wishing it could last a little longer.

the conversation drifts, lazy and unhurried. bakugo starts in with stories about his agency—bragging, really, because of course he’s still cocky as hell, even on his best behavior. he tells you about a villain he took down last week, all explosive details and sharp grins, and how his rookie sidekick nearly got himself flattened by a vending machine (“idiot still owes me lunch for saving his ass”).

you listen, wide-eyed, propping your chin on your palm, completely enthralled. “that’s amazing, katsuki. you’re honestly so strong. i don’t know how you do it—always protecting everyone, being the best.” you don’t even realize how sweet you sound, but he does.

he glances away, ears pink, and you catch the little smirk tugging at his mouth. he tries to shrug it off but you see right through him. “yeah, well… ‘course i’m strong. strongest pro in the city.” he puffs up a bit, basking in your praise, voice dropping just a bit lower, a little more smug every time you call him the best. his pride looks good on him, especially when you’re the one giving it.

then you start telling him about your own life, all the little stories from your job—your quirky coworkers, the office gossips, that one guy who always leaves his lunch in the breakroom fridge until it grows a new civilization. bakugo snorts, rolling his eyes. “sounds like a bunch of weirdos.”

you laugh. “they are! but they’re my weirdos. s’why i like ‘em.” and for a while, you trade stories back and forth, your worlds tangling together on the blanket as easily as your hands did earlier. it’s comfortable, effortless, and he finds himself wanting to know everything, to keep you talking and laughing just for him.

you nudge his shoulder and point at the waterfall, eyes sparkling with that mischievous light he’s come to recognize—a sure sign you’re about to drag him into something a little reckless. “hey, katsuki, did you know there’s a hidden cave behind the water? wanna check it out with me?” your voice dips playful, daring.

he rolls his eyes, already sighing. “fine, but don’t do anything stupid. last thing I need is you falling in or something.”

you press a hand to your heart, mock offended but grinning. “of course not! i promise, it’s actually really pretty inside. you’re gonna love it.” you bounce to your feet, brushing grass from your sundress, and offer him your hand . bakugo rises, grumbling under his breath but unable to hide the spark of curiosity—and maybe a little excitement—lurking behind his glare. he lets you tug him along, your fingers entwined with his as you lead him toward the waterfall, shoes squishing over moss and cool earth.

you take a sharp little path off the main clearing, pushing aside a curtain of wildflowers and brambles. the sound of the water grows louder, a steady roar as you skirt the slippery stones, mist cool on your skin. you glance back at bakugo, giving him a wide, secretive smile before ducking behind the thick sheet of falling water.

he follows, eyes wide with surprise at how the world changes on the other side—the cave glows blue, light refracting off the water, stone walls glistening with hidden veins of quartz. it’s like a hidden world, secret and just for the two of you. and you’re grinning, cheeks flushed, so proud to have brought him here.

the cave glows with its own soft light—sunlight filtering through the waterfall mixes with the shimmer of moss and wet rock, casting blue and gold shadows that dance along the walls. tiny ferns curl out from crevices, droplets sparkling on the tips, and the ground is covered in the kind of soft moss that cushions every step. it’s almost otherworldly, a hidden little paradise tucked behind the roar of the falls.

you take a few steps in, twirling once in your sundress just because you can, laughter echoing off the stone. you pause, catch bakugo’s hand, and without thinking, you place it right at your waist—next to your ass. his palm slips a little lower, instinctively cupping your ass, and you shoot him a smirk over your shoulder.

he doesn’t let go, and you don’t mind at all. you walk deeper together, the world narrowed down to the closeness of your bodies and the hush of falling water.

you tilt your head, still holding his hand, voice hushed but bright. “... doesn’t it feel like we’ve been together for longer than ten seconds? like, way longer?”

he squeezes your hip, looking around at the shimmering cave, then back at you. his eyes soften, serious in the glow. “yeah… i feel that too. it’s weird. but it’s good.” his thumb brushes slow, possessive, against your side, and he can’t seem to pull away, even if he tried.

you wander deeper into the cave, letting the cool glow wrap around the both of you, making the world outside feel impossibly far away. you stop near a slick stone ledge, water trickling beside you, the moss cushioning your feet. bakugo still has his hand on your waist, fingers flexing now and then.

you look up at him, grinning with a little tilt of your head, sunlight catching in your eyes. “katsuki… i really wanna kiss you. can i?”

he grumbles, but his voice is softer than usual, rough edges smoothed out by the way you’re looking at him. “i’m supposed t’ be askin’ that, y’know.” he doesn’t pull away, though—if anything, he tugs you a little closer.

you stand on your toes, close enough to see the way his cheeks have flushed, close enough to catch the way his breathing picks up. you cup his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his jaw, and lean up as he leans down, your lips meeting his in a kiss that’s soft, almost shy at first.

he goes still for a heartbeat, then melts into it, mouth warm and surprisingly gentle. you taste the faintest hint of strawberries and cream, and his hands come up to your back, holding you steady as you press in closer. you kiss him sweet, lips soft and slow, savoring the moment like you have all the time in the world. his skin is warm beneath your palms, and you can feel him relax, tension slipping away as your mouths move together, the world narrowing down to the secret glow of the cave and the beat of your hearts pressed close.

bakugo’s arms slide around your waist, tugging you tight against him—he’s all muscle, warmth and solid strength, and you can feel every bit of it as he presses you closer, holding you like he doesn’t want to let you go. the kiss deepens, your laughter bubbling up as you realize just how sweet it is, how natural you feel together.

you giggle into his mouth, unable to help yourself. he pulls back, scowling, cheeks flushed. “what’s so damn funny?” he grumbles, still not letting you go.

you beam at him, fingers playing at the hair on the back of his neck. “you kiss so good, katsuki. i dunno, it’s just… charming.” your voice is soft, eyes bright with affection.

he gives you a look—half annoyed, half flustered—then, instead of arguing, he just leans in and kisses you again, a little rougher this time, lips crashing into yours in a way that says he’s had enough of talking. he pulls you onto his lap as he sits back on a smooth boulder, the cave echoing softly with the sound of water and your mingled breath.

his hands find your hips, anchoring you in place, and he kisses you like it’s the only language he knows—slow, lingering, hungry, but threaded through with that same sweetness you never expected from him. every kiss is a promise, every touch more sure, more desperate, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel in his arms, right here, in your secret little world.

you pull back, cheeks burning, lips tingling, eyes darting away from his. suddenly, you’re a little shy, voice dropping to a whisper. “katsuki… you’re making me kinda horny.”

he blinks, then smirks, but his face goes bright red. “what’s wrong with that?” he shoots back, but his voice is gruff, almost teasing. he looks so smug, but the blush gives him away, and you can barely hold his gaze.

“i… i dunno,” you stammer, wringing your fingers in your lap, heart beating so loud you’re sure he can hear it. “i just… i wasn’t expecting to feel like—”

before you can finish, bakugo leans in, mouth hot against the curve of your neck. his lips graze your skin, lingering at the spot just below your ear, and his fingers drift up, lightly tracing your collarbone and the edge of your sundress, skimming the top of your chest.

his breath is warm as he murmurs, “guess you’re not the only one.” you feel your whole body flush, every nerve tingling, as his hands grow bolder, thumbs stroking along your skin, pulling you closer, deepening the heat swirling between you in the cool, secret glow of the cave.

your voice is soft, shaky, “should we… should we stop? i don’t wanna, like, get in trouble or something—” but your words tangle as bakugo’s mouth finds your neck, his lips warm, tongue darting out to taste the delicate skin just below your jaw. every time you try to finish your thought, he sucks a little harder, leaving a faint, stinging mark that makes your breath catch.

his hand is firm and possessive, palming your ass through the fabric of your sundress, kneading it like he owns it, and it sends a shiver all the way up your spine. “doesn’t matter,” he growls against your skin, voice hot and hungry, breath fanning over the marks he’s making.

your moans spill out, helpless and soft, your head tipped back as your fingers twist in the collar of his shirt. you look down at him, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in shallow little pants, every part of you aching for more.

the world outside the cave feels impossibly far away—right now it’s just the two of you, hidden in your own glowing sanctuary, the rush of the waterfall masking the sound of your pleasure, and bakugo’s eyes dark and burning as he looks up at you, hungry for every sound, every gasp, every trembling plea that falls from your lips.

you finally pull away, heart pounding, face blazing, too shy to look him in the eye. you slide off his lap with trembling hands, sundress fluttering as you step back, shaking your head and biting your lip, laughter bubbling up from nerves and want. you’re flustered—completely undone by him—and you can’t quite catch your breath.

bakugo watches you, brows pinching in concern, voice lower and softer than before. “where ya goin’?” he asks, and for a split second he wonders if he pushed you too far, too fast. there’s something almost guilty in the way he looks up at you, tension buzzing in the space between you.

but you just wring your hands, glancing over your shoulder, then back at him, voice hushed but bold beneath your blush. “…where do you wanna do it at, katsuki? in here or… out by the picnic?”

his eyes go wide, caught between relief and heat, and he lets out a breathless laugh. “the picnic,” he says, not even pretending to think about it. “outside.” his voice is rough, decisive, every syllable thick with promise.

the flush in your cheeks deepens, excitement thrumming in your veins as you steal one last look at him, then hurry back toward the waterfall, sunlight and nerves tangling as you lead the way back to your blanket, knowing exactly what’s about to happen next.

you barely give him a chance to catch up—your hand catches his wrist, dragging him out of the cool cave and into the gold-washed sun, the waterfall thundering behind you. you can’t help but giggle, glancing over your shoulder at his flushed, startled face. “come on, hero! hurry up!”

he grumbles, stumbling just a bit on the mossy grass. “damn, you’re so damn strong—wait up!” but he follows, no hesitation now, your energy infectious.

at the blanket, you drop to your knees and he flops down beside you, sprawled out, looking both eager and totally out of his element. you straddle his hips, sundress billowing around your thighs, hands braced on his chest. his eyes are wide, darting between your face and where your dress pools around him.

he runs a hand through his hair, cheeks red, voice dropping. “i’m not… experienced with this typa shit, you know. not really. not like this.”

your heart squeezes, tender and proud all at once. you reach down, cupping his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek as you lean in. “that’s okay, katsuki. i’ll take care of you.”

he gulps, adam’s apple bobbing, a thousand thoughts flickering through his eyes before he nods, voice barely above a whisper. “yeah… okay. i trust you.” his hands settle on your hips, grip tightening just enough to tell you he’s ready—ready for you, for all of this, for the way you make him feel brand new under the afternoon sun.

you lean in, pressing your lips to his again—slow, sweet, tasting him in the warm afternoon light. your fingers gently guide his hands to your ass, settling them right where you want them, encouraging him to hold you close. his touch grows more confident, fingers digging in just a bit as you deepen the kiss, your thumb tracing lazy, soothing circles across his cheek.

you pull back just enough to grin at him, lips brushing his, voice low and teasing. “honestly, i’m surprised we’re about to have sex already, katsuki. didn’t think you were the type.”

he scowls, cheeks flaming, but the glint in his eyes is real. “yeah, well, like I said—i’m here for the long haul, princess.” he looks away, ears turning bright red, voice dropping soft at the end as if he’s letting you in on a secret he can barely say out loud.

your heart stutters, warmth blooming everywhere. you tangle your hand in his hair, gentle but possessive, tugging just enough to make him look at you. you kiss him again, pouring all your affection and excitement into it, letting him know with every breath, every touch, that you want him—now and for as long as he’ll let you.

you nod, laughter tumbling out of you, soft and breathless as you press your forehead to his. “i’m happy with that, katsuki. makes me kinda eager for our future, you know?” your words are warm and real, hope flickering in your chest as you hold him close.

he doesn’t say anything, not with words, but the way he looks at you—hungry, grateful, a little overwhelmed—says everything. his hands squeeze your hips, eyes fluttering shut as your lips find his again, kissing him slow and deep, then trailing down to his neck. you taste the salt of his skin, feeling the shiver that runs through him as you mouth along his pulse, sucking gently just below his ear.

you shift your weight, lips still on his throat, and reach down, fingers slipping to the waistband of his pants. you feel the way his breath hitches, his body tensing with anticipation. your hands are gentle, teasing, as you begin to tug his pants open, knuckles brushing his stomach, you pause for a second, lips hovering by his ear, voice playful and a little breathless. “hey, katsuki… wanna try something i think you might like?”

he blinks, swallowing hard, but nods—eyes fixed on you, trust and curiosity blazing together. “yeah. yeah, i wanna.”

you reach over, grab the can of whipped cream, and with a quick, teasing motion, slip one strap of your sundress down, letting the fabric pool at your waist. your breasts spill out in front of him, soft and inviting, and you can’t help but laugh when his eyes go wide, mouth slightly open in shock.

you give yourself a playful little squeeze, then spray a generous dollop of whipped cream right on your nipple, giggling as it sits there—white and sweet, just for him. “go on, katsuki. suck it. but… slow, okay?”

he nods, a little dazed, but sits up, hands reaching to steady you. he leans in, tongue flicking out to taste first, then mouth closing over you, warm and careful. his lips move slowly, savoring the cream, the softness of your skin, your breath catching in your throat as he follows your instructions exactly—slow, worshipful, eyes never leaving your face as you shiver and sigh above him.

it’s clumsy, a little awkward, but the way he does it—so earnest, so focused on pleasing you—makes your whole body burn, your laughter melting into moans as he licks and sucks, learning you one slow, delicious heartbeat at a time.

his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. he shifts, sitting up straighter so he can press you closer, lips sealed around your nipple, tongue drawing slow, teasing circles around your areola. every movement is hesitant at first, but as you moan out his name—soft and desperate, “fuck, katsuki, you’re really good at this”—he grows bolder, mouth working you with a hunger you never imagined.

his hands slide up your back, fingers splayed wide, holding you steady as his tongue swirls, lapping up every bit of whipped cream, lingering just to hear your breath hitch and your body arch for more. your thighs tighten around his hips, the warmth of his mouth and the wet heat of his tongue making you tremble all over.

he pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips swollen, eyes dark and greedy. “yeah?” he mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, breath hot against your skin. “told you, i learn fast.”

his mouth finds you again, tongue slower now, savoring every little gasp, every whispered praise you give him, his hands never letting you go—making it clear he doesn’t want to stop, not even for a second.

you let him take his time, your fingers weaving gently through his hair as he switches between your breasts, mouth warm and eager. he alternates, sucking and licking, nipping softly just to see how you react. you can’t help but smile, a little dazed, as you watch him—so focused, so hungry to learn every part of you, like he wants to memorize every sigh and shiver.

your hips move on their own, shifting down so you’re straddling him lower, the heat of your body pressed just right against his cock through his boxers. the contact makes him jolt, eyes snapping open, a sharp groan ripping from his throat.

“what the hell was that—” he starts, breathless, but you just grin, a little wicked, rolling your hips again, slow and deliberate, dragging the length of him beneath your soaked panties and his boxers.

“just keep going, katsuki,” you murmur, teasing, breathy. “feels good, doesn’t it?”

his hands squeeze,, holding you tighter, and you can see the way he’s biting back a moan, every muscle tense, his face flushed as he stares up at you like he can’t believe any of this is real.

his nose is buried deep between your breasts as he keeps sucking and licking, like he can’t get enough of you, his breath hot against your skin. you’re moaning, hips rolling, but you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up, breathless and teasing. “oh my god, katsuki—enough! you’re gonna leave me all bruised,” you giggle, gently pushing him back down onto the blanket.

he groans, lips chasing after your skin, arms reaching like he’s not ready to let go. “c’mon, just a little more—” he mutters, already leaning in to suck your tits again, but you shake your head, eyes bright and hungry as you slide down his body.

“not yet,” you whisper, grinning, kissing down his chest and stomach, your hands working his pants open the rest of the way. his breath catches, muscles tensing as you pull his boxers down, freeing his cock—thick, flushed, already leaking for you.

you meet his eyes, wicked and soft all at once, and wrap your hand around him, giving him a gentle stroke, your tongue darting out to taste him as he moans your name, all the air knocked right out of his lungs.

you stroke him slowly, thumb gliding over the slick bead at the tip. your voice is playful, whispering with a wicked little smile, “you’re already leaking, katsuki… are you really that worked up for me?”

he can’t meet your eyes, face burning as he looks away, jaw clenched. “shut up,” he mutters, but his hips twitch up, betraying just how much he likes the way you’re talking to him.

your tongue flicks out, tasting him right at the tip, soft and slow. he shudders, hand gripping the blanket so tight his knuckles turn white. that reaction alone makes you want to see what else you can pull from him.

you lick a slow circle around his head, watching him squirm, then drag your tongue down the length of his cock, just barely applying pressure. you keep it slow and playful, teasing, your lips ghosting kisses along his shaft, your hand stroking him just enough to keep him on edge.

“relax, katsuki,” you murmur, breath hot against him. “let me take care of you, remember?”

he groans, finally glancing down at you, eyes dark with need, his whole body trembling as you draw out every little shiver, every gasp, warming him up with your mouth and your hands, letting the anticipation build until he’s aching for more.

you press your breasts together, soft and warm, sliding his cock right between them—feeling the way he trembles beneath your touch, his breathing gone ragged. you lean in, your lips closing around his tip, tongue swirling as you suck him gently while your hands press your tits tighter around his shaft, moving up and down in slow, teasing strokes.

the sensation of your mouth and the slick heat of your skin drives him wild; his hips buck up a little despite himself, a low, desperate groan slipping past his lips. you glance up, catching the sight of him—eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, his hand clenching the blanket as he watches you work.

your tongue flicks over his tip with every pass, your lips pressing kisses between sucks, letting the rhythm build, every little movement making him lose control. “holy shit,” he chokes out, voice shaking, the mix of pleasure and your name on his lips making you want to give him everything, right here in the sun and wildflowers.

“you like that, katsuki?” you murmur, letting your breath dance over his sensitive skin, before taking him into your mouth again, sucking just a little harder, giving him the kind of pleasure he’s never known—leaving him utterly undone for you.

you squeeze your breasts tighter around him, your mouth warm around his tip, teasing, “you like that, katsuki? are you gonna be a good boy for me?”

he grits his teeth, shaking his head, face flushed deep red. “i’m not sayin’ that shit,” he growls, the words strained, voice rough as he tries to hold back, determined not to fall apart so easily for you. his hands fist tighter in the blanket, every muscle drawn taut.

you keep going, your tongue swirling, your lips trailing down his shaft. “c’mon, katsuki,” you whisper, looking up at him, “say it for me. be a good boy.”

he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw locked as he tries to resist, but another wave of pleasure wracks his body, a soft moan breaking free. under his breath, barely audible, he mutters, “yeah… i’m a… good boy…” his voice is breathy, almost a whimper, his body betraying him with every desperate sound as you keep stroking and sucking, relentless, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

you giggle, breathless, loving how he tries to hold himself together—so stubborn, so easily undone for you. you squeeze him tighter, your mouth working faster now, tongue flicking and swirling around his tip, lips sealing with every suck.

his hands grip the blanket so hard you think he might tear it, his voice ragged as he gasps your name, head tipping back, hips stuttering up against your chest.

you pull back just enough to whisper, teasing and sweet, “say it again for me, katsuki. tell me you’re a good boy.”

he looks at you, glare all fire and desperation, but he can’t help himself. “fuck—i’m a good boy for you,” he grits out, voice shaking, half defiant, half pleading.

you hum around his cock, the vibrations making him shudder, and you smile as you watch him unravel, his pride melting under your touch, every sound he makes just for you.

you keep working him, mouth and hands relentless, until his breath is all ragged edges and desperate moans. suddenly, he grits out, “i wanna fuck you right now.” his voice is raw, needy, almost a warning.

you just hum around him, shaking your head no, all playful defiance—knowing exactly how wild that drives him. he can’t take it, not for another second, and he growls, yanking you up and off, hands strong as he drags you up his body, your boobs bouncing with the sudden movement.

you land sprawled across his chest, gazing down at him with wide, innocent eyes, lips parted like you have no idea what you just did to him. he sees straight through it, groaning, “don’t act innocent now.” he pushes you gently onto your back, rolling over you, settling his weight between your thighs.

for a heartbeat, he freezes—face flushed, breath stuttering, the reality of having you beneath him hitting him all at once. you giggle, fingers dancing over his arms, teasing him, “what’s wrong, hero? nervous now?”

he glares down at you, ears red, then slides his hands up your thighs, gathering your sundress in his fists, dragging it up slowly, his knuckles grazing your bare skin as he finally gives in to the hunger he’s been holding back all day.

he grits out, “shut the hell up,” voice hoarse, trying to play it cool but his hands are just a little shaky as they find the waistband of your panties. he pauses, glaring down at the flimsy fabric, brows furrowed.

you can’t help but tease, voice soft and full of laughter, “do you even know what to do, katsuki?”

he scoffs, meeting your eyes with that stubborn fire. “i’ll figure it the hell out. don’t worry about me.” but the way his fingers fumble with the elastic is a dead giveaway that this is all new.

you giggle, wiggling under his hands, “i’m excited—” but you barely get the words out before he huffs in frustration, then suddenly there’s a soft crackle, a quick spark—his quirk lights up in his palm and, in one wild burst, he blows the panties straight off.

you yelp, half scream and half laugh, “katsuki! you can’t just do that—oh my god!!” you’re laughing so hard your stomach aches, hands covering your face, the leftover elastic smoldering on the edge of the blanket.

he just grins, wild and breathless, proud as ever. “problem solved, princess,” he says, leaning in, voice low, “told you I’d figure it out.”

his fingers trace down your hips, finding your folds, and the moment he touches you—just the lightest, curious press—you moan, hips arching into his hand. that sound makes something flicker across his face, pure triumph, like he’s just won a gold medal and finally understands why everyone brags about this part.

he gets bolder, sliding his fingers up, finding your clit with a little more confidence, rubbing soft circles as you squirm under him. he watches your face, drinking in every reaction, every shaky gasp and needy whimper. it’s messy, clumsy, but so earnest you feel yourself falling harder by the second.

while he’s caught up in watching your pleasure, he fumbles with his other hand, lining himself up, cock brushing against your entrance. you barely notice, lost in the rhythm of his touch, until he presses the tip against you, thick and hot.

your whole body tenses, a sharp gasp tumbling from your lips as your eyes roll back, pleasure crashing through you in a wave. your hands clutch at his shoulders, breath hitched, every part of you strung tight and ready.

bakugo grins, breathless, proud and hungry, the world narrowing down to just the heat and the hush between your bodies, his cock nudging at your entrance as you melt under his touch.

you nod, breath shaky, giving him permission without a word. he watches you, wide-eyed, then slowly, carefully, he sinks into you—stretching you open inch by inch, the thickness of him making you gasp and arch. your mouth falls open, a helpless mewl escaping as you cling to his arms.

“katsuki—oh my god—feels so big, it’s too much,” you whimper, eyes rolling back, the sensation almost overwhelming. it’s been so long since anyone made you feel this way—every nerve alive, every inch of you needy and aching and desperate for more. your body clenches around him, slick and hot, your walls fluttering as he pushes in deeper, filling you completely.

your mouth waters, lips parted, every muscle trembling as you take all of him. bakugo freezes for a second, breath knocked from his lungs, staring down at you—your head thrown back, cheeks flushed, eyes wild and beautiful as you take him in. he almost loses it right there, the sight of you coming undone beneath him, so perfect and real it makes his heart stutter.

he grits his teeth, fighting for control, voice a low, desperate growl. “shit, you look—fuck, you feel so good. can’t believe—”

but you can barely hear him, too far gone, every thought turned to mush as he rocks his hips, giving you every inch, every bit of himself, the world shrinking to nothing but the heat and the stretch and the delicious ache of being so full of him.

bakugo can’t tear his eyes away from you—your flushed cheeks, lips parted, the way your hair spills around your head like a halo. every time he thrusts deep, your tits bounce with the motion, nipples still sticky from whipped cream and his mouth. your legs tremble around his hips, toes curling in the grass, the sundress bunched at your waist.

he looks down and sees the way you take him—his cock slick with your arousal, shining as he moves in and out, the tight heat of your body clinging to him with every stroke. he can feel your walls fluttering, gripping him, squeezing tight around every thick vein, almost pulsing with every desperate thrust.

“fuck—look at you,” he groans, voice ragged, one hand sliding to your thigh to hold you open, wanting to see everything. “you feel so fuckin’ good… you’re milking me, shit.” his hips stutter as he fights to keep it together, transfixed by the sight of your body giving in to him, by how perfectly you fit together—every slick, messy inch.

every thrust is deeper, more desperate, bakugo’s breath coming faster as he listens to the sweet, broken way you moan his name. the sound makes his ego swell, and that cocky, wicked grin blooms on his lips. he leans in, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead, and his voice drops to a low, teasing rumble.

“who’s a good girl, huh?”

you stammer, the words tangled in your moans, “m-me, katsuki—i’m your good girl,” and before you can catch your breath, he slams in harder, the force making your leg jolt.

he grabs your thigh, lifting it to his shoulder, opening you up wider so he can hit even deeper. you sob for him, clinging to his arms, head rolling back as you beg, “feels so good, katsuki—please, you’re so good for me, you make me feel so good—”

the praise hits him like dynamite—his control teeters on the edge, your words making his cock twitch inside you, his jaw clenched so hard he’s almost seeing stars. panic flickers through him as his release barrels closer than he expected, shit, did I just fucking cum—? but you pull him back, grabbing at his arms, voice thick and greedy.

“fuck me harder, katsuki. please. i need you.”

he looks down at you, something wild and hot in his eyes—hungry and awestruck and totally yours. “yeah? you want it harder, princess? then take it.” his grip turns bruising, and he pounds into you, every thrust rougher, every moan you let out making him want to give you more, the two of you lost in the open air, tangled up and desperate for every second together.

your body arches, every muscle tight with pleasure as your pussy clenches around him—slick and hot, squeezing, milking him for everything he’s got. each thrust is dizzying, his cock dragging deep, the thick head pressing right against your cervix, bottoming out with every hungry snap of his hips. the pressure is intense, electric, your body weightless, lost in the overwhelming rush of being so full, so perfectly taken.

you grip his shoulders, eyes wild, voice trembling but eager as you praise him, desperate and sweet, “that’s it, katsuki—such a good boy, fucking me so hard—so deep, you’re so good, baby—”

he lets out a ragged sound, eyes squeezing shut, hips stuttering at the praise. he tries to glare at you, tries to keep his pride, but you can feel him giving in, every muscle straining, all his fire focused on you. he can’t beat you at this—you’re too good, too soft, too sweet with your praise and your desperate little sounds, and the way you look at him like he’s everything.

he groans, slamming in harder, voice cracking, “fuck, i can’t—i can’t win with you—shit—” and there’s a wild smile in his defeat, a thrill in letting go, letting you have him, every inch, every sound, every broken little moan, all yours. losing to you feels better than winning any fight.

your laughter is bright, spilling out between moans, your fingers clutching his arms as you look up at him with love and heat. “you’re so sweet, katsuki,” you gasp, voice tumbling out fast and breathless, “so protective… you make me so happy, so good, so—so full—”

he groans, thrusts growing wild, his self-control hanging by a thread as your praise washes over him, every word making him even harder inside you.

“please, katsuki,” you beg, hips rolling up to meet his, “please keep making me feel good, my sweet man—let me cum all over you, please, i need it—”

he shudders, eyes nearly crossing at how desperate you sound, growling as if it’ll help him keep it together. “shut up—shut up—shut up,” he rasps, but his hips are pounding harder, his mouth dropping to your shoulder, biting and groaning and completely at your mercy. the sound of your name, your needy little cries, his own gruff moans—all of it tangles together, every second pushing you both closer.

your tits bounce wildly in his hands as he drives into you, harder and faster, the slap of skin and your helpless moans echoing around you. bakugo’s eyes are glued to your face—watching your mouth fall open, spit sliding from the corner of your lips, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over with pure pleasure. the sight makes his chest ache and his cock twitch, finding it so fucking hot that it almost makes him dizzy.

he leans down, mouth capturing yours, licking your drool off your lips like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, greedy for every part of you. his hips start to stutter, but he barely notices—he’s too focused on you, on how gorgeous you look lost in pleasure.

then, suddenly, your pussy clenches around him, impossibly tight, squeezing him so hard it rips a scream right out of him. “fuck—!”

you cry out beneath him, voice breaking as you shatter, “katsuki—i’m cumming—!” your whole body arches up, legs trembling, every muscle taut as the orgasm rips through you.

bakugo doesn’t realize he’s cumming until it’s already happening—his cock pulsing, his hips rutting deep, grinding into you as he spills inside, filling you up, groaning your name against your lips. the world blurs, heat and light and the shuddering, frantic rush of finally, finally letting go together, tangled and breathless and utterly lost in each other.

you both freeze, the world tilting for a second as the aftershocks fade. your eyes go wide, and suddenly you scramble up on shaky legs, clutching the sundress to your chest. “oh my god—katsuki! did you just—did you cum inside?!”

bakugo blanks, wide-eyed and flushed, the panic on his face almost comical. “what—shit, are you serious?! i—i didn’t know—I thought—!” he grabs his head, looking as lost as you feel.

you blurt out, voice breathless, “i didn’t expect you to cum inside! i thought you’d, like… pull out or something!”

his voice is loud, cracking, “are you fuckin’ serious?! i told you I’m a virgin! how the hell was I supposed to know to ‘pull out’?! nobody gave me a goddamn manual!”

for a split second, you both just stare at each other, wild with panic—then it hits you, the absurdity of it, and you double over laughing, your nerves turning to helpless giggles. bakugo stares at you like you’ve lost it, but then a reluctant, sheepish smirk cracks through his panic, the tension easing as you laugh together, tangled and ridiculous and completely, hopelessly smitten.

your laughter spills out between gasps, eyes bright with disbelief and lingering afterglow. “oh fuck, katsuki,” you say, wiping a tear from your cheek. “i was just so into you—I didn’t even think to tell you to pull out. that’s on me.”

he shakes his head, still flustered but coming down from the panic, voice huffy but surprisingly gentle. “nah, it’s not just your fault. it’s our fault. both of us.”

you sit back down beside him, your hand finding his, squeezing. “we’ll figure it out, okay?” you say, soft but certain, all that sunshine coming back even as you catch your breath.

he nods, squeezing your hand right back, a determined look flickering across his face. “yeah. and—we’re getting you on birth control.” he says it like a promise, stubborn and caring all at once.

you giggle, pressing your forehead to his. “yes, sir. anything else, hero?”

he snorts, rolling his eyes, but you can see the relief settling in, the warmth beneath the gruff act. “yeah. next time—tell me what the fuck to do before you turn my brain to mush, alright?”

you laugh again, softer, happier, knowing whatever happens, you and katsuki are in it together.

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