you’re a librarian for the local library and often during times of recent attacks or times of unrest, the library is used as a safe ground for civilians to chat, get a free tea, to find help and more. you host these events often, sometimes even getting pro hero guests to help out.
but when your boss is reading off the list of heroes you will get, you hear the usual ones, tape hero, he’s not that bad… red riot, he reminds you too much of… anyway and then… fuck. dynamight.
you think about calling off for the whole week. because no way are you serving coffees and offering lunch to and just being around your ex boyfriend, bakugou katsuki.
sakusa has a scent kink. #tome. he’s gross when he’s in love with you actually. a big HUFFER. loves sniffing you in the mornings or before you’ve taken a shower. says stuff like i love when you smell human. panty sniffer too if we’re being real. HE’S DISGUSTING AND I LOVE HIM
do you guys ever think about facetiming ushijima while he's away at one of his games and his phones propped up on his tummy, looking down at you through the camera- arm reaching up to ruffle his hair and murmuring real low about how much he misses you; bicep curling in the corner of your phone screen... asking if you miss him just as much as he does you.
new couple. reader has daddy kink & doesn’t know how to tell katsuki
BY ANY MEANS POSSIBLE (1.2k)
warnings: minors dni, super suggestive
notes: this ask was sent during a time i was taking requests. i am not currently. based off this picture! a quick little drabble.
it was the only thing you could think about when bakugou katsuki was inside you. the word was on the tip of your tongue. almost dribbled, almost moaned, almost whispered in his ear. but you didn’t because you could imagine the embarrassment flushing through you like a fever. saying odd things, well expect odd answers.
you sit up slowly in your bed, finding the space beside you empty but it’s okay because the man who’s supposed to be beside you, sits at your little bedroom desk across from your bed. it’s only little for him because the pro hero dwarfs every piece of furniture you own. that’s your spot when you work from home, your computer screen and your laptop. your favourite bits of stationary, mostly bought by him when he goes back home to visit his mum.
but now katsuki’s bare back practically takes over your whole vision. it’s large, scars littered all over it as hunches over your desk. he’s writing something in his black leather bound notebook with your pink white rabbit themed pen and then types on his laptop he brought with him. you can see the tips of his black glasses behind his ears and the red scratches at his shoulders from last night. the combination makes you chew your lip.
you open your mouth to call him. nothing comes out. then again, “k—,” nope.
you rub your arm, only in your camisole and undies. he’s got his grey sweats on, rubbing the top of his blonde head before sighing deeply.
a tiny, “fuck” passing his lips to whatever data he’s looking at.
katsuki’s back muscles are deep, thick, years of training and saving lives all compressed into his toned body. this is why you wanted to mumble the word in the first place. because he looks like that. treats you so good. because the thought of uttering it and him doing his slow smirk lights you up.
then he stretches, large biceps in the air and a groan. it starts loud, then stops abruptly, his whole body freezing. his arms drop and then he slowly turns around to check on you.
“did i wake you? didn’t mean to be loud there.”
everything about your boyfriend is a weakness for you. stupidly gorgeous. you still get nervous when he looks at you for too long, levelling you with his maroon eyes with flecks of burnt orange. his rectangle framed glasses are adorable, always giving you the urge to squeeze his cheeks and kiss all over them right after.
you shake your head softly, “there’s actually something i wanted to ask you. about last night.”
that makes katsuki turn, spinning around on the chair to face your bed. your eyes immediately go to his crotch, half soft in his grey joggers, sitting against his thigh. they’re so low on his waist you can tell he’s got no underwear on, his usual white band gone, instead a light tuft of dark blonde in replacement.
you’re too busy sexualising him, remembering how he looked above you last night. sweat across his brow, calling you perfect as he pressed your knees against the side of your head. every thrust sending you to a euphoria where it’s only you and him, unable to stop repeating how much you love him in a broken loop. you’re about to moan aloud, ignore what you want to tell him to climb into his lap and feel him up.
“did i do somethin’ you didn’t like?”
worry coats katsuki’s face. he sits up slightly, frowning over at you warily and clutching the fabric of his joggers before letting go.
“i’ll stop being so rough, i just get caught up—,”
you shake your head, “no, nothing like that! i wanted to ask you something and it’s okay if you don’t like it.”
it’s the perfect position for you to watch him pull out his cock and stroke himself. his abs tensing, that vein he gets on his right bicep pulsating, the scar in the centre of his chest going a shade darker as his body blushes.
“tell me, babygirl. what’s up?”
he presses his tongue in his cheek, then licks along his bottom lip. if he doesn’t like it, he wouldn’t embarrass you would he? he wouldn’t. he’s done embarrassing things before, like when he farted on the sofa for the first time in front of you and tried to blame it on the leather or when he tripped over a dodgy pavement step when he went to open the car door for you last week.
“last night… i think… okay so—,” you pause to groan, no clue how to just say it.
bakugou tilts his head with a smirk, “if you wanna start usin’ toys, that purple dildo you’ve got would be so sexy but not in me. don’t think i’m a fan of dick in my ass.”
“katsuki! i wasn’t gonna say that!”
“no? then spit it out. whatever it is i won’t give a fuck.”
you huff, looking at the ceiling then to your sweet boyfriend who lives to make you happy by any means possible.
“i want to call you daddy… during sex. i always wanna say it but don’t want it to get awkward if you’re not into it.”
you smooth out the quilt with a pout.
“yeah, you can call me that.”
he pounces out of his seat like a lion, crawling over to you on your bed to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. your hands gravitate to his neck, keeping him still against you.
“what? really?” you ask as he attacks you with affection. another kiss on your forehead, then your cheeks. one on your lips.
he’s breathless, “there’s little you can do that wouldn’t turn me on, baby.”
everything goes straight to your core, preheating you for what’s about to come. if he lets you.
“thank you, daddy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss into his jaw and the smile you release when he moans feels like a breath of fresh air.
“fuck, say it again f’me,” he grunts, dragging your lips back to his, edging your mouth open for you to brush your tongue against his.
“let me touch you, daddy,” when you reach down for his cock, his forehead drops to your shoulder.
“you’re so goddamn—,” he breathes, voice shaky, “lemme finish my work first. i’ve got a deadline in thirty minutes, i can get it done in twenty.”
katsuki believes he’s the strongest man in the world when he pulls away from you but not without leaving you three long kisses.
“‘tsuki!” you whine, sinking down into your bed to rest your head on your pillow. “you’ve got twenty minutes before i start playing with myself.”
he drops in your office chair, taking his hands through his hair in visible distress. the sight makes you want to laugh, sit on his cock while he grinds up into you.
“baby, please,” he tries to reprimand but you can see him adjust himself in his sweats. “have some fuckin’ sympathy for me readin’ these boring ass documents with a hard on.”
“i’m imagining you between my legs, two fingers inside me, sucking on my—,”
“baby, stop talkin’ or you’re not callin’ me daddy.”
Hate in your heart will consume you too. Always tell the truth, say your prayers, hold doors, pull out chairs, easy on the swears. You're living proof that dreams come true, I love you and I'm here for you.
Ao3 | Ko-Fi | Join the Taglist | Masterlist
Katsuki is just like his father, from the cradle to (if Masaru did it right) the grave.
Inspired by this post from @strobimilk.
Contrary to popular belief, Masaru is not meek.
Men like Masaru, who are calm and gentle and quiet? They behave that way because they can, not because they have to. Men who choose peace the way Masaru chose peace are the epitome of “speak softly, and carry a big stick.”
They’re all battle tested, and those test results say that every. Single. One. Can. Whoop. Anybody’s. Ass. All of them admit they were previously the embodiment of “don’t talk, hit his ass”, but as they matured they stopped swinging and start speaking. I firmly believe Masaru is one of these men.
When he first started showing early signs of anger issues, his overly permissive parents believed he would simply grow out of it. As he grew, they made excuses for him, telling him that cleaning up after his fights was always easier than stepping in. He wished someone could look inside his head and how he hated the blind anger that crashes over him like waves in a storm, drown him in a feeling he hates but can’t escape. Masaru has watched himself fight and scream and rage like a spectator in his own body, watched people drift away from him, watched his parents shrug and say that boys will be boys, but Masaru doesn’t want to be an angry boy anymore. He tries to ask his parents to help him, that he can't control it, that he doesn't want to be this way anymore, but his parents shrugged him off.
You're a growing boy. Boys and men fight. Nothing is wrong with you.
Its not until he's on the brink of expulsion and completely alone that he begins to figure things out by himself. It takes time and effort, so much effort, but by year 2 of high school, he doesn’t fight except to defend himself. By year 3, he’s gotten good at walking away or pinning his assailant instead of beating them black and blue. By graduation, he’s gone an entire school year without conflict and has a small group of close friends. His parents smile and tell him he grew out of it like they said he would, and he saves one, final explosion for them before leaving his home and never returning.
By the time Masaru meets Mitsuki, he learned how to breathe through the flashes of anger, the ever present desire to prove himself by swinging on whoever challenged him. Mitsuki sees it, trusts him, steps in to deter conflict before Masaru has to end conflict. He wonders sometimes if it would be easier to revert back to his youth, brash and bold, his fists weapons ready to defend himself and the love of his life.
Then Mitsuki tells him she’s pregnant.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
When Katsuki is born, kicking and screaming with what his own father called the ”signature Bakugo lungs”, Masaru cries and vows to never be the parent he had, to step in and make sure his son has the love and support he missed out on. He becomes the parent he needed, not the ones he got.
So when he sees Katsuki’s teenage explosiveness, he doesn’t react to it—at least not like Mitsuki does—because Masaru sees himself in Katsuki. He knows with the right guidance and time, he’ll mellow out, because Masaru did. Katsuki isn’t undisciplined, but his parents can’t be there 24/7 and his early educators were incredibly permissive due to his quirk and the potential he has as a hero. Masaru talks to his son, checks in, makes sure he’s not feeling broken and alone the way Masaru had at his age.
Once he hit UA, Katsuki repeatedly got humbled, learned, mellowed out, matured. Masaru was there every step of the way, watching Katsuki stop, breathe, evaluate, and choose what kind of hero he wants to be, what kind of man he wants to become.
Without knowing it yet, Katsuki has chosen to be a man like his father.
Masaru deliberately refrains from revealing his past for most of Katsuki's life. Not when he started school, not when he started at UA, not when he graduated a hero, not when he meets someone that makes his eyes light up the way Masaru's do when he sees Mitsuki, not when Katsuki's hair darkens to a deeper blonde, not when he shows up to Sunday dinner with a mustache grumbling that he gave up on shaving because he had do it multiple times a day or else he has 5 o’clock shadow at noon.
Not even when Katsuki, in his mid 20s, begins wearing contacts at work and glasses in his off hours because “all this damn print is too small.” He allows Katsuki to grow, guiding gently, but ultimately allowing his son to decide the man he wants to be.
He only reveals it when Katsuki himself becomes a father with pinked cheeks and eyes glossed with tears while holding his own child, a daughter, freshly born with ruddied cheeks and lungs strong enough that Masaru knew she’d arrived from the waiting room.
Then, he tells his son everything. He passes his journey from father to father, tells Katsuki to pass it to his daughter when she becomes a mother.
Masaru’s choices create a new reputation for the Bakugos; strong, level, confident, heroic.
And when interviewers catch Katsuki on an off day spent with his daughter at a school event, he replies simply that she's got moxy, soft like her mother and a defender like him, his father, and his mother.
When he straps her into her car seat, worn out and dozing after an eventful day, he glances at her in the rearview mirror, and a quiet part of him hopes his kids see him as the hero his dad was without ever donning a costume.
i think there are several times throughout different stages of his life that bakugou will think to himself that he will be alone forever. sure that there is not one person out there for him. and he'll think about those times every now and then, as he watches you eat at his table and cook in his kitchen and wash in his shower and turn to find him in your sleep.
big fan of bkg being more like his dad actually. especially as he gets older. gets more comfortable leaning into his calmer and softer side bc he knows he can bring out the insane whenever anyway.
a possibility i don’t like to think about much is that bkg is a one and done kind of guy so if you’re not his first love you better pack your bags. unless you’re okay with being second best forever
think of how in the fucking trenches in-canon fans of bakugo as a pro hero have to be at any given time. every time they open their socials their fave is getting fucking dragged for x y or z thing and they’re being called abuse apologists or whatever the fuck for still liking him lol
⋆˙⟡♡close your eyes, don't worry darlin' | k. bakugou♡⟡˙⋆
٠࣪⭑ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader
٠࣪⭑ cw: pretty much just domestic fluff, mention of anxiety dreams but nothing too detailed so maybe it's hurt/comfort??? katsuki calls u princess. reader's mentioned having hair.
٠࣪⭑ word count: 933
٠࣪⭑ author's note: it's self indulgent but that's the only way i know how to roll. this is *sigh* inspired by the song "mama drama" from the neighborhood's new album. i know they're cancelled i'm sorry but the album is fire, i mighttt make a separate songfic masterlist bc i have a lot of little drabbles inspired by the album but idk :(
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆synopsis⋆｡˚✴︎⋆ you call katsuki when you have a bad dream. he can't help but be sweet with you.
link to song here
the first thing you register is how cold you are.
it doesn't make sense; when you sleep with katsuki you're never cold, his body acting like a furnace and keeping you both toasty beneath the sheets.
the second thing you register is that the weight of the mattress feels all wrong.
it causes you to open your eyes, try to blink away the fuzzy feeling of sleep. they tell your brain what your heart already knows: he isn't here.
it was a stupid nightmare, really. some run of the mill anxiety dream, where you experience all the ways everything could go wrong.
the dreams always ended the same way, though: you’d flick on the television and see katsuki’s face on every channel, eulogized.
and you, sitting in your apartment alone, watching as the world mourns him even though it didn’t really know him. not like you.
still, despite the frequency of your nightmares, they never fail to scare you. usually, when you woke, katsuki was right beside you and you could run a hand down his arm to make sure, yes, he was real and sleeping soundly.
you claw around in the darkness, finding a cord on your nightstand and tracing it to the phone that’s plugged in at the other end. the brightness of the screen hurts your eyes.
you have three missed texts:
10:17 pm katsuki: gonna be late tonight
10:18 pm katsuki: don’t wait up
10:59 pm katsuki: goodnight baby love you
you’d dozed off around 10 after telling him to be safe and try and be quiet when he came home.
the clock on your nightstand reads 12:43 am, he really is late.
you wonder what’s got him so caught up, if it’s paperwork or a rogue villain causing trouble right at the end of patrol.
you click the contact and wait for the tone, thinking about the voicemail you’re gonna leave, but to your surprise he picks up after the third ring.
“it’s late.”
to the untrained ear, he would sound annoyed, but you hear the worry in his voice. it’s late really means, what’s keeping you up?
“i was sleeping,” you say defensively, dodging the question.
“yeah, and now you’re not,” he snorts.
this really means, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?
katsuki always lets you come to him. if you didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t press. not right now, anyway.
stifling a yawn, you disregard his prodding. “i’m cold and the bed feels empty without you.”
he sighs on the other line. “i know, i know. got caught up with some stupid shit.”
“paperwork?” you guess, and his groan is answer enough. you smile, “m’sorry, love.”
“it’s either finish now or come in tomorrow, and there’s no way i’m givin’ up our one day off this week.”
with hectic schedules and the holidays coming up, you’re both stretched thinner than is comfortable. this is the fifth night in a row you’ve gone to bed alone.
“how much longer?” you ask, sinking in to your pillows once again. you close your eyes, but keep the phone propped against your ear.
“little while,” he murmurs. “you sound sleepy, princess.”
"yeah," you yawn, not bothering to hide it this time. "a little."
"go back to sleep," he practically coos, "gonna finish this and be home soon, alright?"
it's getting harder to stay awake, and his voice feels like stepping into the shower, warm and soothing and raining down all around you. makes you feel clean. it's subduing your fast beating heart and you don't wanna hang up yet.
sounding as as small as you feel, all wrapped in the covers on a bed meant for two, you say "i miss you, katsuki. it sucks, i don't sleep as good when you're gone."
it sucks means, i'm having a really hard time but it's difficult for me to say out loud and it's not your fault that you have work but i wish you didn't.
you might as well have shot him, the way the words seem to slice right through. he pauses before speaking, taking just a second to think.
"that's it, i'm done with these evening patrols for a while."
if he was in front of you, you'd wave him off. "don't be silly, that's sweet but... little unrealistic, yeah?"
"not if my girl needs me," he huffs on the other end. "these extras are just gonna have to deal."
his tone is playful; you can see his wry smile in your mind's eye.
"yeah they'll love to hear it, i'm sure," you tease, letting out another yawn.
katsuki sounds soft, so soft, when he says, "i'm serious, okay? i'll change the schedule, switch shifts around, do what i gotta do. this isn't working, for me either."
"alright baby, love you," you mumble, sleep starting to curl around you like smoke. his words make you feel like wax in a warmer, melty. "can you just... stay on the phone? until you're home? sorry..."
he tuts at your apology, "yeah, yeah, 'course. don't worry."
it's a suspiciously brief amount of time later when you hear the front door open, the sound of boots against hardwood, the ruffle of clothes sliding off and on, and finally you feel him slide into bed behind you, arms automatically wrapping around your half conscious, sleepy self and pulling you close.
"ditched the paperwork. screw the bureaucrats," he whispers into your temple, pressing a kiss there for good measure.
"let's sleep in tomorrow," you manage, voice gravelly. he smiles and noses into your hair, closes his eyes, breathes in your scent. it washes over him like a summer rain, warm, soothing, surrounding. makes him feel calm.
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