A Cute Pterodactyl @cutiedactyl - Tumblr Blog

Baby Fever - Husband Bakugou

word count: 5k

CW: NSFW! MDNI! husband!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader, foreplay, breast play, fingering, p in v sex, strong language, baby fever, breeding kink, emotional intimacy, vulnerability, mention of pregnancy and parenthood, possessive behavior

The late afternoon sun painted the city in hues of gold and orange, but for Katsuki, the only thing worth looking at was you. The patrol had been long, standard for two Pro Heroes at the peak of their careers. The paperwork, the petty criminals, the endless demands—it was a grind you both excelled at, but it was a grind nonetheless. He’d seen the tension in your shoulders for weeks, a subtle tightness that even his best massages couldn’t always erase.

Then he saw it.

You were standing near the entrance of a damaged building, coordinating with the rescue team. In your arms, you held a little girl, no more than three, her face smudged with dirt and tears. The child had been separated from her parents during a minor villain skirmish, and you’d been the one to find her, sobbing behind a shattered storefront.

But it wasn’t the rescue that stole the breath from Katsuki’s lungs. It was the look on your face. All the stress, the constant vigilance, the hardened edge you had to carry as a hero—it melted away. Your expression was one of pure, unadulterated peace. You were whispering something to the toddler, your voice too low for him to hear, and the little girl had stopped crying, her chubby fist curled trustingly in the fabric of your costume. Your smile was soft, your eyes crinkled with a tenderness he usually only saw in the private darkness of your bedroom. You looked… complete.

A lump formed in his throat. He knew how good you were with kids. You had a natural warmth that made children gravitate toward you, a patience that contrasted so beautifully with his own brash intensity. He’d always known it, acknowledged it as just another one of your countless perfections. But seeing it today, against the backdrop of your recent exhaustion, felt different. It tugged at something deep and primal in his chest, a visceral pull that was equal parts awe and a fierce, possessive longing.

He loved you. God, he loved you so much it was a physical ache sometimes. He was content with your life—the battles won, the agency thriving, the quiet comfort of your marriage. He cherished every second with you, from the adrenaline-fueled fights to the simple, mundane moments of shared silence. He wasn't ready to share you. The thought of your attention, your love, your time being divided… it had always made something in him bristle. You both had talked about it, of course. Level-headed, practical conversations about waiting, about starting a family when you were both truly ready, not out of some fleeting, hormonal desire.

But as he watched you hand the giggling child back to her weeping mother, your hero-smile firmly back in place, the seed of a new, overwhelming desire was planted in his heart. The image of you, serene and whole with a child in your arms, was burned onto the back of his eyelids.

Later that night, the quiet of your home was a welcome reprieve. You were already in bed, propped against the headboard with a book, the soft lamplight casting a warm glow over the room. The day’s grime was scrubbed away, replaced by the familiar, comforting scent of your shared space.

The bathroom door opened, steam billowing out followed by Katsuki. He emerged with a towel slung low on his hips, water droplets still clinging to his spiky blonde hair and tracing paths down the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen. He smelled of your shared body wash and his own clean, sharp scent.

His eyes found you immediately, and without a word, he crossed the room. You glanced up from your book with a smile, but before you could speak, he descended upon you. It wasn't a graceful lie-down; it was a deliberate, full-bodied collapse, all 200 pounds of solid muscle and deadweight blanketing you, pressing you deep into the mattress.

“Oof—Katsuki!” you giggled, the book squashed between your chest and his. His skin was still warm from the shower.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his nose cold against your warm skin. He inhaled deeply, a long, shuddering breath that filled his lungs with your essence. Then he snuggled closer, if that was even possible, his body a heavy, warm fortress around you.

You chuckled again, assuming this was one of his rare, wordless demands for affection. He could be explosively verbal, but sometimes his need for connection was purely physical, a raw, unspoken craving for closeness. You wriggled an arm free from his weight and wrapped it around his broad shoulders, your fingers gently carding through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. “Long day, Dynamight?” you murmured soothingly.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of his breathing and the steady beat of your heart under his ear. You felt the tension slowly seep out of his frame. Then, his voice, muffled against your skin, rough with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, broke the silence.

“Hey...” he started, his hold on you tightening almost imperceptibly.

You hummed in response, still stroking his hair.

He lifted his head just enough so his next words, low and gravelly, were perfectly clear, vibrating against your very soul.

“...won’t you... let me knock you up?”

The book slipped from your lax grip, thumping softly onto the comforter. The words hung in the air, thick and shocking, stealing the breath from your lungs. For a moment, you were sure you’d misheard. This was… entirely out of left field.

“Where… where did that come from, Katsuki?” you managed, your voice a little breathless.

He didn't lift his head. Instead, he nuzzled deeper into your neck, his voice a low, gravelly murmur against your skin. “Would you let me do it? Let me put a baby in you?”

The bluntness of it, the raw, possessive phrasing, sent a jolt straight to your core. You tried to shift, to crane your neck and see his face, but he was an immovable weight. “Katsuki, look at me.”

He grunted in protest, but you were insistent, your hands moving to his shoulders to push him back just enough. When you finally saw his face, your heart squeezed. A furious blush painted his cheeks and the tips of his ears were a brilliant, tell-tale red. He was embarrassed.

“What made you say that?” you asked softly, your thumb stroking the heated skin of his jaw. “Where did that bomb come from?”

He tried to deflect, turning his face away. “Tch. Forget it. Sounded fucking stupid.”

But you wouldn't let him. “No, it didn't. Tell me.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his crimson eyes fixed on a point somewhere over your shoulder before they flicked back to yours, vulnerable and earnest. “It was… this afternoon. When you were holding that kid." He confessed it quietly, the words rushing out. “You just… you looked so fucking peaceful. Like all the stress was gone. And I know how good you are with them. It just… hit me.”

He scowled, as if angry at his own feelings. “And I thought it was ridiculous, because I’m not—I don’t want to be one of those guys who just sees his wife as… that. A baby-maker. A home-keeper. That’s not you. I always want you to do whatever the hell you want, to be a hero, to be you, because I love seeing you happy. And shit, I still want more time with just you.”

His admission was a gruff, heartfelt torrent. “I’m not talking about right this second. I’m talking about… the future. One day, when we’re both finally ready. When you’re ready to be a mother. When I’m… when I’m ready to share you.”

Your heart clenched into a tight, aching knot. This man, who loved with a ferocity that could level cities, was laid bare before you, confessing his deepest, most possessive fears and his most tender hopes in the same breath. He was always thinking of you, of your happiness, above all else.

A smile bloomed on your face, so full of love and certainty that it felt like the sun had risen in your bedroom. It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. “Katsuki,” you said, your voice steady and clear. “I'm ready.”

The effect was instantaneous. His eyes widened, his blush deepening to a spectacular shade of crimson. He sputtered, actually fumbling over his words, a rare sight for the ever-articulate Dynamight. “Wha—Now? You—Hah?”

A soft laugh escaped you. “I'm more surprised that Katsuki Bakugou can actually have a baby fever.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, the embarrassment shifting into a playful growl. “Stop teasing me.” He started retaliating the only way he knew how when flustered—his fingers found your sides, tickling you mercilessly.

You shrieked with laughter, squirming under him. “Katsuki, stop! Ah!” The wrestling, the shifting of weight, the friction of his bare skin against your thin nightgown—it all escalated quickly. In the tussle, the towel around his hips loosened and finally slipped away entirely.

The laughter died in your throat, replaced by a sudden, palpable tension. The playfulness evaporated, leaving behind a thick, charged silence. He was fully bare against you, the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh. All the emotion of the conversation—the longing, the love, the sudden, terrifying possibility—came crashing down on both of you.

His expression sobered instantly. His hands stilled on your waist, his gaze searching yours, intense and serious. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough with need and something deeper, something sacred. “Are you really fucking sure? Because I never want to do something you never truly want. I know it’s a big step. You, with my kid, our kid, in our home. I don’t want you to regret any of it. I love you too much to force you into a life you never asked for.”

Your heart swelled until you thought it might burst. You cupped his face, your thumbs stroking his sharp cheekbones, feeling the faint tremble in his jaw. “I'm ready, Katsuki,” you whispered, pouring all your love and certainty into the words. “I've been thinking about it too. Our own little family. Me reading in our garden, you're trying to take pictures for memories, and a little one running around while laughing happily. I wanted to see that too. A family of our own.”

Katsuki swore his vision blurred for a second. He dropped his forehead against yours, a ragged breath shuddering out of him. This woman. This beautiful, strong, incredible woman had chosen him, of all people, to be her partner. Who stood by him through every struggle, who matched his fire with her own grace, was now choosing to build a life, a family, with him. The magnitude of it threatened to undo him completely.

He didn't cry—Katsuki Bakugou did not cry—but the emotion that welled in his chest was so powerful it felt like it might crack him open. Instead, he captured your lips in a kiss that was nothing short of a vow. It was deep, possessive, and heartbreakingly tender, a silent promise of the future he’d just been gifted. A future he would move heaven and earth to make perfect for you. For all three of you.

The kiss was a sealing of a promise, a deep, soul-tangling connection that left you both breathless. When he finally broke away, his forehead still resting against yours, his crimson eyes were dark with a mix of fierce love and raw, unbridled want.

“Gonna take care of you,” he murmured, his voice a low thrum against your lips. “Always.”

Your hands slid from his face to his shoulders, feeling the tense power coiled there. “I know,” you whispered back, your own voice thick with emotion. “Show me.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His movements were deliberate, not rushed, as if he wanted to memorise every second. He shifted his weight, sitting back on his heels between your legs, his gaze burning as it travelled down your body. His large, calloused hands went to the hem of your nightgown.

“Arms up,” he commanded softly, and you complied, lifting them so he could peel the soft fabric up and over your head, tossing it aside. The cool air hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his stare. He looked at you, completely bare before him, with a reverence that made your heart ache.

“Fuck, you're beautiful,” he breathed, his hands coming up to cradle your breasts. His thumbs swept over your nipples, already pebbled tight from anticipation, and you arched into his touch with a soft sigh. He leaned down, replacing his thumb with his mouth, his tongue laving over one peak while his fingers teased the other.

“You know,” he said, his voice muffled against your skin, a wicked, possessive edge to it. “These are gonna get even more perfect. Gonna be full, gonna feed our baby.” He nipped gently, making you gasp. “Mine. All mine to take care of.”

“Katsuki…” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his damp hair. The dirty, tender talk was unravelling you. “You can't just say things like that.”

“Why not?” he challenged, switching his attention to your other breast, sucking deeply. “It's the truth. Gonna watch you grow round with my child. My fucking kid.” The image his words painted, combined with the expert suction of his mouth, sent a bolt of pure heat straight to your core. You could feel yourself getting wetter, a desperate, throbbing need building low in your belly.

He seemed to sense it. With one last, lingering kiss to your sternum, he began to move down your body. His kisses were a trail of fire—over your ribs, the soft plane of your stomach, his tongue dipping into your navel. He hooked his hands under your knees, spreading your legs wider, settling himself between them.

When he looked up the length of your body, his eyes locked with yours, and he stilled. A sharp, shocked breath hissed through his teeth. “Look at you,” he growled, his voice thick with awe. “So fucking ready for me. Glistening. All for me.”

You were exposed, utterly vulnerable, and the hungry, stunned look on his face made you burn with pleasure instead of shame. “Always for you,” you managed to reply, your hips giving a slight, involuntary buck.

A feral grin touched his lips. “Patience, woman.” He didn't use his mouth just yet. First, he traced a single, blunt fingertip through your slick folds, gathering your arousal. You whimpered at the contact, so light it was almost torture. “This sweet pussy” he murmured, his eyes darkening as he watched his finger glide through your wetness. “This is where I'm gonna put our baby. Gonna plant my seed so deep in here, it's gonna take.” He punctuated the crude, breathtaking words by slowly pushing one finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit.

A broken cry tore from your throat as you clenched around him. “Yes! Oh, god, Katsuki…”

“Not god. Just me,” he corrected, his grin widening as he added a second finger, stretching you perfectly. He began a slow, relentless rhythm, his thumb working little circles that had you seeing stars. “Gonna make you come just like this first. So I can taste you.”

The combination of his filthy promises and his skilled fingers was too much. You were already hurtling toward the edge, your breath coming in ragged pants. “I'm close... so close…”

“Let go,” he ordered, his voice a low growl. “Come for me. Now.”

His command, the intense pressure of his thumb, the stretch of his fingers—it all crashed over you. Your back arched off the bed as a powerful orgasm ripped through you, milking his fingers as you cried out his name, waves of pleasure leaving you trembling and boneless.

He didn't stop. As you twitched through the aftershocks, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips. He never broke eye contact as he slowly, deliberately, licked them clean, a low groan rumbling in his chest. “So fucking sweet.”

Then he was on you again, his mouth crashing down on yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue—salty, musky, intimate—and the sensation was wildly erotic. You kissed him back with a feverish intensity, your hands clutching at his back.

When he pulled away, his lips were swollen, his eyes blazing. “That was just the start,” he promised, his voice ragged with his own need. “You ready for more?”

Your body was still humming, utterly spent yet craving him anew. “More,” you breathed, pulling him down for another kiss. “Always more.”

The kiss was a frantic, hungry thing, a clash of tongues and shared breath that left you both gasping. When he pulled back, his chest was heaving, his cock—hard, thick, and proudly erect—leaked a bead of precum onto your stomach. The sight of it, the sheer evidence of his want, made your already sensitive core clench with emptiness.

You watched, mesmerised, as his hand wrapped around himself, giving a slow, firm stroke. The groan that rumbled from his chest was pure agony. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, were fixed on where his body would soon meet yours. Then, a flicker of rationality broke through his lust-hazed expression.

“Wait... fuck,” he breathed, his hand stilling. His eyes snapped up to yours, confused and suddenly concerned. “Your IUD. How are you... unless…”

The blush that had been warming your cheeks flamed into a full-on inferno. You were throbbing, aching for him, and his sudden hesitation felt like torture. You bucked your hips impatiently, a frustrated whine escaping your lips. Your eyes were glassy with need.

“You're so dense, Suki... idiot,” you panted, your voice strained. “I got it removed a while ago. I've been ready. You made me wait too long.”

The confession hit him like a physical blow. A while. You’d been walking around, fighting villains, sleeping in his arms, your body primed and waiting for his seed, and he’d been oblivious. A shudder wracked his powerful frame. Fuck. She’s been walking around, wanting this, waiting for me, and I was too wrapped up in my own head to see it. A possessive, primal roar seemed to echo in his skull. Every rational thought, every carefully built restraint, shattered into a million pieces. Mentally, he was offering a desperate, profane prayer—God, don't put me in hell for what I'm about to do to this woman.

“Naughty girl,” he growled, the words a low, possessive rumble. He positioned himself at your entrance, the broad, slick head of his cock pressing against your soaked folds. “Not telling me. Keeping a secret like that.” He didn't push in. Not yet. He just rubbed himself through your wetness, teasing, making you gasp and writhe.

“How long?” he demanded, his voice dropping to a filthy whisper. “How long have you been dreaming of this? Of me breeding you? Huh?”

“Katsuki, please,” you begged, your nails digging into his biceps. The agonising friction of him just teasing your entrance was driving you insane.

“Answer me,” he commanded, applying the slightest pressure, letting just the tip push past your tight ring of muscle. The stretch was immediate, a delicious, burning fullness that made you cry out.

“W-weeks,” you admitted on a broken moan, your head thrashing against the pillows. “Thinking about you... about your baby... inside me…”

A guttural sound tore from his throat. That was all the confirmation he needed. Finally, he began to push in for real. It was excruciatingly slow, just as he knew you loved. He watched your face, mesmerised by every wince, every gasp, every flutter of your eyelids as he filled you inch by torturous inch.

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he groaned, his own body trembling with the effort to go slow. “Taking me so good. This perfect pussy was made for my cock. Made for taking my seed.”

He bottomed out, hips flush against yours, and you both stilled, overwhelmed by the feeling of complete connection. He was buried to the hilt, and the feeling of being so utterly full, so stretched around him, stole your breath.

“Gonna knock you up,” he whispered, beginning a slow, deep roll of his hips. Each thrust was a deliberate, grinding promise. “Gonna put a baby in you right now. Gonna see you round and beautiful with my kid. Your tits…” He leaned down, capturing a nipple in his mouth again, sucking hard. “...gonna get so big and full. Gonna be dripping with milk for our baby. My milk. Because you're mine.”

His words were pure, unadulterated filth, fueled by his breeding kink and his overwhelming love for you. Each filthy promise was punctuated by a deep, penetrating thrust that hit your very core.

“Yours!” you cried out, arching into him, meeting his slow, grinding rhythm. “All yours, Katsuki! I want it... I want to see it too... want to be full of you... always…”

He groaned, burying his face in your neck, his thrusts gaining a slight, relentless intensity. “Gonna keep you full. Pregnant and fucking gorgeous. My woman. Mother of my children.” He was losing himself in the fantasy, in the reality of it, his dirty talk a continuous stream of devotion and desire, ensuring that every part of you, body and soul, felt how much he wanted this with you.

He wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. His thrusts were still deep and deliberate, but his gaze drifted down from your face, over the sweat-sheened skin of your torso, to where your bodies joined. His eyes fixated on your lower abdomen, on the subtle bulge that appeared with each of his inward strokes.

“Look at that,” he breathed, his voice husky with awe. One of his hands, which had been braced beside your head, moved down to splay over your stomach. His fingers traced the faint outline his own cock was making inside you. “Hey... this is where our baby's gonna grow, right? Right here?”

His touch was possessive, reverent. Then, he pressed down, just a little. The pressure, combined with the incredible fullness of him buried deep within you, sent a shockwave of sensation through your system. You screamed, a sharp, loud cry that was equal parts pleasure and overwhelming stimulation.

He chuckled, a low, dark sound of pure masculine satisfaction. “You're so fucking pretty, baby. I just gotta put my seed right here,” he growled, grinding his hips in a tight circle, making you whimper, “and make sure it sticks. Right?”

Your brain had melted into a puddle of pure sensation. All you could do was babble your agreement, your words slurred and desperate. “Yes—right there—please, Suki, want it to stick—want your baby—so much—!”

Your eager, mindless confirmation fueled a fresh wave of possessiveness in him. “That's it. Tell me how much you want it,” he demanded, his rhythm becoming more urgent. In one fluid, powerful motion, he hooked his arms under your knees, folding you almost in half, pressing your thighs toward your chest. The mating press. It was deep, primal, and left you utterly exposed and vulnerable to his every thrust.

“Fuck, now I'm really in you,” he groaned, his pelvis slamming against your ass with each drive forward. His cock seemed to reach even deeper, the head kissing your cervix with every plunge. “Gonna breed this pretty pussy so good. Gonna pump you so full of my cum, there's no way it won't take. You feel that? You feel how deep I am?”

You could feel it. The stretch was exquisite, the friction unbearable. You were clenching around him harder and harder, a sure sign you were teetering on the edge. “I feel it! I'm—I'm gonna come, Katsuki!”

He saw the desperate plea in your eyes, felt the convulsive tightness of your body. He leaned forward, his face hovering just inches from yours, his breathing ragged. “Yeah? Let's come together, yeah? Come with me, baby. Let me feel you milk my cum right into you.”

You could only nod frantically, your nails scraping down his sweat-slicked back. “Together... please…”

A few more powerful, perfectly angled thrusts was all it took. Your orgasm crashed over you first, a silent, seizing wave that locked your body tight before a raw, shattered scream was torn from your lungs. The feeling of you clamping down around him dragged his own release from him with a guttural roar. He plunged as deep as he could possibly go and held there, his body shuddering as hot jets of his cum spurted inside you, filling you in pulsating waves.

You kissed through the peak, a messy, desperate clash of lips and tongues, sharing each other's gasps and moans as the world dissolved into white-hot pleasure.

When the tremors finally began to subside, he didn't pull out. Instead, he carefully unfolded your legs, lowering them gently, but kept his hips pressed flush against yours, ensuring not a drop of his seed escaped. He collapsed onto his forearms above you, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing in ragged, syncopated pants.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word a prayer of exhaustion and satisfaction. He shifted just enough to cradle your head, his lips finding your temple, your cheeks, your eyelids, showering you with soft, tender kisses. “You... you were so perfect. Took me so good. My perfect girl.”

You nuzzled into his neck, your body humming with a profound, bone-deep contentment. You could feel the warm, wet evidence of his release slowly leaking out around where you were still joined, a tangible reminder of what you'd just shared. “Katsuki,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “I love you. So much.”

He held you tighter, his embrace a safe, warm fortress. “I love you more. Gonna take care of you both. I swear it.” The promise hung in the air, thick with the scent of sex and sweat and the sweet, certain hope of the future you'd just chosen to create.

For a long while, there was only the sound of your shared, slowing breaths and the frantic beat of your hearts gradually settling into a steady, synchronised rhythm. Katsuki held you close, his body a heavy, comforting warmth atop yours, still buried deep within you as if unwilling to break the connection. His lips were pressed softly to your hairline, and his hand traced lazy, soothing circles on your back.

Then, he heard it—a soft, wet sniffle.

He stilled instantly. Pulling his head back just enough to see your face, his brows furrowed in immediate concern. In the dim light, he saw the tear tracks glistening on your temples.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough with sudden worry. He brushed a thumb under your eye, catching a fresh tear. “What's wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I— fuck, did I go too far?”

You shook your head quickly, a watery laugh escaping through your tears. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, pulling him back down against you. “No, no. God, no. You were perfect.”

“Then why the tears?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with confusion and a need to fix whatever was hurting you.

“It's just…” you started, taking a shaky breath. “The weight of it all. It just hit me. I am ready. I want this so much. But... it's really happening, isn't it? It could be happening right now.” The reality of the future they had just actively chosen to create—the tiny, fragile possibility that had been set in motion—washed over you in a powerful, overwhelming wave. It was a happy cry, a release of weeks, months, maybe even years of quiet longing.

Understanding dawned in his crimson eyes, replacing the worry with a deep, empathetic tenderness. He shifted, finally sliding out of you, but immediately gathered you into his arms, rolling onto his side so he could tuck you against his chest, your back to his front. He held you like something priceless, one strong arm banded around your waist, his other hand coming up to gently brush the hair from your damp cheek.

“Listen to me,” he whispered, his lips close to your ear. His voice was low and sure, each word a vow. “You're gonna be a great mother. A fucking wonderful mother. You're strong, and you're kind, and you're so damn good with kids. Our kid is gonna be the luckiest little shit in the world.”

You sniffled again, leaning back into his solid comfort. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he stated, no room for doubt in his tone. “And you're not doing it alone. I'm gonna be right here with you. Every single step of the way. Every doctor's appointment, every craving, every time you're tired or scared or... fucking hormonal. “He squeezed you gently. “I'm not going anywhere. I know it's gonna be hard. But we're a team. We've always been a team. This is just our next mission. And we're gonna ace it.”

His words were like a balm, soothing the sudden storm of emotion in your chest. You placed your hand over the one he had splayed across your stomach, lacing your fingers with his. The simple, protective gesture felt more meaningful than anything.

“Thank you, Katsuki,” you whispered, your tears finally subsiding, replaced by a profound sense of peace.

“Don't thank me,” he grumbled softly, nuzzling into your hair. “Just get some rest. We've got... a big day tomorrow.” The phrase was laced with a new, hopeful meaning.

You smiled, your eyes drifting closed. Cradled in the safety of his arms, with the scent of him and their love surrounding you, you felt the future settle not as a weight, but as a promise. The last thing you felt before sleep claimed you was the press of his lips against your shoulder, a final, silent seal on the new life you had begun together that night.