hello, hello! I am so reverently obsessed with the way you write Katsuki. I came here to ask of you to please on my knees write his reaction to us wearing his merch it would KILL me
wearing his merch ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x reader )
i hope you enjoy! ty for requesting this, it was fun to write
This feels…
You tug at the hem, where it's different, reinforced ribbed fabric, wishing it’d stretch the way you want it to. To cover your whole thigh. Maybe cover your entire body along with it. But the material is high-quality — only the best for Bakugou Katsuki. The material isn’t malleable, unlike those cheap, thin knockoffs. It pulls along with your grip but stays true to its shape.
The first line of merchandise of Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. His launch collection, and you're one of the very few first customers.
You’ve been dating Katsuki for more than a year, but this — it feels like one of those milestones. First date, first kiss, first time — shit, it might even be more daunting than any of those. Because this … it feels like it’s more than a matter of supporting your boyfriend. It feels more like getting yourself into trouble. It shouldn’t be so embarrassing. Shouldn’t feel so dangerous.
Your face burns when your eyes catch sight of yourself in the full-length mirror. In his — a hoodie, off-black, disrupted by the bold orange running from either shoulder to the hemline. The skin of your bare legs follow after.
“Ugh.” Your fingers catch on the hem, intending to pull it off, right when the door slides open, and Katsuki’s figure takes up the doorway.
And doesn’t blink even once.
It takes a minute. Maybe more than that to reboot your brain back up.
“Katsuki! You’re back! You’re back?” you exclaim in a rush, ears steaming, dazed. You're torn between throwing your arms out to welcome him and drawing your arms around yourself to keep the hoodie hidden. “I didn’t know you were — It hasn’t even been — How long have you—“
Your rambling falls short as Katsuki takes one heavy step forward. It's like a string snapping.
He almost looks possessed, eyes wild, like he doesn’t know where to even start looking. You find yourself feeling skittish, stumbling backward until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. It’s entirely appropriate. The face Katsuki is making can only be described accurately as predatory.
“Uhm,” you say eloquently.
“Damn,” Katsuki says appreciatively, ruby finally zeroing in on the orange ‘X’ that encompasses your whole front. “Shit, baby, ‘s this all for me?”
“I’m not trying to pull anything,” you say defensively. “I just — uh, wanted to try it on.”
“And you wanted to keep this from me?” he asks quietly, pulling on the hem — dragging it up, and up. You shiver from the cold air on your hips. Katsuki tracks it obsessively. “God damn. Had a wet dream about this, maybe.” He licks over his teeth. “Here you are.”
Wow. Stomach, meet butterflies. Face, meet lava — or, in this case, Bakugou Katsuki, which is pretty much the same thing.
“You’re such a freak,” you say, but heat is pooling rapidly, so maybe you’re not that any better. It’s getting hot. Way too hot. You wriggle from his grasp. “It’s just merch.”
“Mine, though,” he corrects, suddenly searing his quirk-hot hands on either side of your waist. The noise you make is very high-pitched and embarrassing, and Katsuki grins like a bastard when hearing it. “Fuck you think you’re doin’? Think I’m gonna let you take this off?”
He eases you down the bed, until your ass hits the mattress.
You were expecting a reaction. Maybe not to this extent, though. Katsuki's barely out of his uniform and he's slipping his fingers in yours to push it against the sheets, rasping, "This stays on. Think you can at least do that for me, baby?"
sober ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive — liquid courage failed you before, too many times to count. this time, you're staying sharp.
mature content, alcohol/drinking, getting together, katsuki is such a boyfriend for someone who isnt your boyfriend, whipped katsuki my favorite, pov switching, 4k words
Katsuki grunts, scowling at nothing in particular. “Stupid.”
His phone vibrates in his pocket. Katsuki, pissed enough as he is, shoves a hand to squint at the message.
where r u???? hurry the fuck up.
pleasee omfg
It’s from Flat Face. Figures.
eat shit and die
im almost there
Without Katsuki to play the adult supervision, Sero remains the sober friend in outings, mostly because he can handle his liquor well. Sero badgers on with his texts, begging for Katsuki to hurry before they’re permanently banned at their favorite karaoke bar.
Sero follows up on a recent message with an image attached. Katsuki slows his steps to glare down at his phone. Sero’s real shitty at taking pictures, or it could be someone’s jostling him from the side. None of it matters — Katsuki’s eyes zero in on you lying on Mina’s lap, where the camera had captured you mid-laugh.
“Stupid,” Katsuki repeats, unable to tear his eyes away from your glee for a moment too long. He only snaps back to reality when his phone dims. He must’ve painted a manic picture, staring at his phone like a damn creep. Fuck.
He’ll see the real deal in a minute, but still, he saves the image in his phone gallery. That’s between him and his phone.
Katsuki ignores the crisp breeze brushing his bare face. His nose twitches, growing numb; he feels his hands ache in traces of pain that come to bloom when it’s met with a sharp chill. This feeds his irritation further, yet it’s telling that he continues to walk down the road, as if turning back home was never an option in his head.
The attendant appears relieved to see him; whether it’s from recognition of the #5 hero or the acknowledgment of this establishment’s savior from rowdy pro heroes, Katsuki will never know. Katsuki doesn’t even need to ask — she just hurries him to the far corner room where his shitty friends are situated. He mutters his thanks. She just tells him good luck. Damn.
Katsuki pulls the sliding door open and is instantly greeted by the stench of alcohol. Sero’s picture hadn’t done enough justice; seeing it in real life is worse. It’s like the aftermath of a nasty villain attack if it came in the form of piles and piles of beer and alcohol puddles and bar snacks all over the table. Kirishima’s knocked out on Sero’s shoulder, drooling. Jirou is also fast asleep, taking an entire couch, leaving Sero to huddle uncomfortably on the edge of a corner. Mina’s holding the microphone, but nothing’s playing; she’s just singing shit. You’re laughing at Mina, clutching your stomach.
He nearly stumbles over a leg belonging to Kaminari, who’s sprawled on the floor for some fucking reason.
“The fuck happened?” he hisses, narrowly missing Kaminari's arm swinging to latch onto his ankle.
Cheers erupt from all around the table when they register Katsuki’s arrival. Sero looks like a single parent of five — which may just be the case.
Sero sighs. “It’s like I blinked and was left with this.”
Katsuki snorts. At least he knows how it feels. He's felt that way since year fucking one.
He steps over Kaminari's body, ignoring his cry, heading straight towards you. Raccoon eyes is talking to Katsuki — something about him being a jackass for bailing on tonight, not that Katsuki gives a single fuck.
“Killjoy. Boring. You’re getting boring, old man!” Mina yells at his face.
“Fuck off,” Katsuki says reflexively. “We’re celebrating again next week anyway. Don’t start with me.”
You beam at him, hands reaching out like a fucking child or something. He begins to pry you off Mina’s lap, but his hold under your arms gives notice to how you’re shivering.
Katsuki shrugs his coat off and drapes it over you. Looks like he’ll have to take you home himself.
“Sero,” Katsuki voices in a bite, glaring over his shoulder.
Sero rushes to service as Katsuki shifts to his back, leaving Kirishima to sag beside Jirou, their snores harmonizing. Sero drags you to settle on Katsuki’s back, where Katsuki quickly hunches over and shifts his palms under your thighs. You mumble happily, burrowing your nose into the nape of his neck.
Katsuki slings a heated warning in Sero’s direction before the bastard can laugh about it.
“Call a cab,” he grunts out. “Wake Shitty Hair up; he can help you with those shits.”
Sero flicks a hand in a mock salute.
It was a tedious process, but everyone managed, eventually. They all crash at Kirishima’s house. They’ll be fine. And if someone’s house burns down — well… they’re heroes, they’ll still be fine.
Katsuki adjusts his hold, exiting the bar as the cab drives off. He walks, the cold billowing a soft cloud in each breath.
“You awake back there?” he asks, staring ahead.
“Mm, you take such good care of me, Katsukiii,” you coo in his ear, your lips brushing over the shell of his ear.
He shivers, feeling warmth creep up the back of his neck. You laugh irritatingly, grating his nerves and fluttering his stomach. He bristles at the sensation, snarling nonsense that you don’t even listen to, too busy giggling over damn who-knows-what.
“Walking me back to your home, huh? What are you, my bodyguard? You big, strong … hunk of a man…”
Katsuki huffs in amusement. “Yeah?”
“Katsuki,” you drawl, your hand sliding over his bicep. “You’re so good to me. You take care of me, y’know?”
“I know,” Katsuki says, devoid of its usual snark. “‘s ‘cause you can’t do it yourself.”
“Ha-ha!” You lean your chin on his shoulder. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right. Wish you could … take care of me like this … forever.”
“Idiot,” Katsuki says, mostly to himself. You don’t respond either way.
Katsuki can fucking smell the alcohol reeking from your mouth. He’s about to tell you off, complain about your goddamn stink, but you’ve gone limp in his hold.
“Do you mean that?” Katsuki starts, and it’s met with silence. Then, snoring.
Katsuki doesn’t smile, but the by-passers would argue otherwise.
This is bad. Starting to get bad.
You got somewhat shit-faced drunk in hopes of making a move on Katsuki with liquid courage, but he’d taken care of you so well that you didn’t even have a hangover as an excuse the moment you jolted to consciousness. Your head is starting to clear up, losing its fog and illusion of confidence, and your brain is running off at full speed.
This isn’t the first time you’ve sobered up while in the warmth of Katsuki’s bed, an hour or so after he whisked you away from your shared friend group.
What the fuck am I doing? You want to punch something and scream, ideally where Katsuki can’t see you throwing a tantrum.
You turn to your side where Katsuki’s still in deep sleep, shoulders rising and falling at once like a decrescendo, slow and steady. It’s a heart-aching sight — achingly bare.
He has his back turned. You hold your breath and peek over, hands catching an inch away from Katsuki’s face, catching a view of his mouth open just a tiny bit for quiet snores to come out. It’s unbearably cute. He must’ve been tired, having to take care of your careless drunk ass all night, and it’s not even the first time.
This isn't anything new either — sleeping on the same bed. You remember it from the first night. He shrugged it off, saying he didn't want to carry your ass anymore. You're already makin' me take care of your dumb ass every time this shit happens — you expected me to go 'n sacrifice the bed I bought with my own money?
"Scandalous," you said, at the time, reeling from how defensive Katsuki had been.
"Not like I'm gonna do anythin' to you." Katsuki stared you down. "Why? You wanted me to?"
How embarrassing to resort to liquid courage and still fail.
This has to end. You are definitely not aiming to become a drunkard just to have a chance with your crush.
“Morning,” a gravelly voice mutters, breath hot on your face.
You come to the startling realization that you've been hovering over Katsuki for longer than you intended. His intense gaze arrests yours, tension hanging in the hair. Like doused in a bucket of cold water, you jerk away and flounder, half-baked syllables spilling as some attempt of an excuse. There is no other explanation for that — you were ogling Katsuki in his sleep.
Katsuki doesn’t smirk, but the mirth lighting in his eyes comes very close to it. He pulls you to his side, gripping one of your wrists and positioning it on the other side of his head. He adjusts your hold until you’re pinning him down.
You choke on your breath. “What—”
This time, Katsuki grins. “You're gonna strain your shoulders, idiot.”
Dangerous man, the primal instincts of your brain scream, flinching away, hissing. The hormonal side begs you to pounce on him and wipe that smug expression off his handsome face.
You quickly pull back, recoiling away, only to find yourself back up to the firm surface of Katsuki’s thigh, where he had lifted it in his wake. The shock sends a sharp jolt of aching pain at your violent reaction. You whimper and clutch at your head, dizziness inciting a pathetic: Owww.
“Don’t move so much, fucking dipshit,” Katsuki hisses, easing your hips down on his other thigh that’s laid flat on the bed. “Don’t you fuckin' dare throw up so goddamn early. Shit, it’s like, what, four AM?”
You sag against him, feeling at ease without the strain of your muscles holding your weight up. Katsuki’s like a mountain mass furnace — how nice. You don’t even register that you’re all but straddled on his thigh; if anyone were to walk in, they’d be well within their rights to assume the worst.
Katsuki cranes his neck as he reaches for a glass. You jostle at the movement, grumbling, and Katsuki mutters a quiet ‘sorry,' holding the water to your lips. You take gulps of water slowly, careful not to spill and ruin Katsuki’s strangely soft mood.
“Thanks,” you say. Katsuki’s actions and the weight of his tone — everything is off-kilter with the mood that’s just set. He’s really… “Sorry for the trouble,” you say in a hushed whisper, guilt settling in.
“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t,” Katsuki snaps, frown deepening. His eyes don’t convey the same ire.
“Yeah.” You nod, fond. “You don’t do anything you don’t want to, huh?”
Katsuki’s expression shifts. Just slightly, before it melts back into practiced blankness. “So?”
Everything’s straightforward with Katsuki. But even then — even then, he might not mean it in the same way as you’re hoping.
“I wasn’t that drunk, you know.” You want to look away, but you’re finding it difficult to even try. “I never was. I — I know this is the third time this happened.”
Katsuki lifts a brow. “You remember the first time you threw up in my car then?”
Your face erupts in flames. “I’m so sorry.”
Katsuki pushes you by the small of your back, closer to him. You swallow back an embarrassing noise, somehow quick enough to balance yourself on his chest before you plant your nose to his face. Katsuki’s ruby gaze pins you down, even when you’re the one on top of him. Dangerous, dangerous, leave, your brain yowls. Your body, your heart — stays incredibly still, obedient in the face of the man who's got you weak.
“Do you remember what you said last night?” Katsuki asks, several octaves deep. Roused freshly from slumber.
You squirm. His skin feels hot to the touch, even through his fucking black tank top. “I said a lot of dumb shit, Katsuki.”
“Do you mean them, then?”
You file through your memories, trying to pinpoint precisely what he’s talking about. Katsuki’s patient, seemingly content with keeping you on his lap, staring. You’re the humiliated one here.
“What did I say?” you demand, nerves constricting in your chest.
Katsuki pushes his torso up with a hand, inching his face impossibly close. The heat of his gaze spreads through your entire body. You’re sure he can feel it, too — hard to miss when you’re a lapful of a flighty cat perched on him.
His nose brushes against yours, eyes flickering down. Your breath hitches, caught in the hush of the moment.
“Katsuki?” you ask in a fearful whisper. Katsuki’s eyes snap back to meet your gaze.
“‘m hungry,” Katsuki mutters, leaning back.
Your face burns, his warmth lingering on the space before you. Your hands touch over your face, winded. Still aware of Katsuki’s intense gaze, you pull off from his lap, ignoring the scream of your headache as you dash to the kitchen.
You really thought he was going to kiss you.
No, maybe it's more accurate to say you were hoping for it. You almost pleaded for him to. Had he lingered, you would’ve thrown yourself all over him, begging, Please, please, Katsuki kiss me — I need you. How embarrassing is that? To need someone so badly that he's your waking thought, and yet you hate seeing him around?
Instead, the morning ended with Katsuki lending his shirt and driving you back to your apartment — a set routine — the third time. You talked to ease the tension, but it was a fruitless attempt at the question hanging in the air, dangling in front of both your faces. Katsuki doesn’t bring it up, so you hang onto the sliver of mercy he’s granted.
The week passes, and still, you aren't quite ready when another chance comes again.
You wonder if he’ll bring it up tonight.
This time, the party is in honor of celebrating Katsuki’s — Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight — ascension to the Top 5 in the Pro Hero ranking. Katsuki’s not surprised, but most of the class is; he hasn’t laid off on the crude language, so it’s a wonder he even got into the Top 10 at all.
Most of your former classmates are busy with their duties and patrol, and Katsuki isn’t keen on inviting more than five people to his house. Unfortunately for him, Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, Jirou, and Kaminari wouldn’t miss this celebration for the world — Villains be damned, it’s Bakugou Katsuki’s big day. It’s an unspoken agreement that you tag along. Katsuki also texted you that you were late an hour ago, so it’d be no use for anyone to upset Katsuki.
Of course, parties go hand-in-hand with alcohol. You had been avoiding Katsuki since that night, fleeing at every glimpse of blond hair. No one has noticed, except maybe Katsuki, whose eyes linger on you for five seconds longer than usual when you knock on his door.
His gaze sends a lick of heat down your spine, and the night’s just starting.
There needs to be a change of plans. If trapping him drunk doesn’t work after three failed attempts, then you have no choice but to do it sober.
That scrap of interest Katsuki had shown last week was more than enough encouragement. If you don’t end up confessing your feelings tonight, then that just means you’re never meant to do it at all — which would’ve been the easiest way out if Katsuki didn’t make it so hard.
“Hey,” you say. "I'm here."
“Finally,” he mutters. Your lips quirk up in humor.
Katsuki’s gaze slips from your collarbone to your thighs before flicking back up. A flame of interest makes itself known to you, to your chagrin. You’re no better: Katsuki’s dressed in low-hung jeans and a black fitted tank top under a striking red button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. How can he make a simple nothing look so sinful?
Katsuki steps back, presenting the surprisingly neat get-together your friends have set up. There’s a buffet of food spread across Katsuki’s dining table — and because you know Katsuki well enough to be privy to his skills in the kitchen, you can tell he cooked all of them. There are banners spelling his name out beside Congratulations!, which must be Katsuki’s limit, seeing the lack of confetti.
“You’re here!” Mina shrieks, bounding over to encase you in a tight hug.
Air knocks out of your lungs as she squeezes your neck. You tap Mina’s back in distress. The room lights up with laughter, greeting you in turn. Kaminari moves to ruffle your hair, but his eyes catch on something behind you, and he pales and hides behind an amused Kirishima.
Katsuki heads to the kitchen island, alcohol lined up in a neat pile. You decide firmly that you are not getting drunk — you will power through with your plan, and that’s your mission for the day.
You pump your fist once and exhale roughly. Plus Ultra! Mina says you look stupid, dragging you off to the living room.
You’re squished between Kaminari and Mina, who throw their heads back for a shot.
True to your word, you denied any shot glasses offered, instead busying your mouth with the food Katsuki cooked. It's too bad you can't shut your brain the same way.
It’s tempting — really, really tempting. You haven’t been able to approach Katsuki, feeling too much like you should just forget about whatever plan you had for a confession and ride the tide back to normalcy. To get shitfaced drunk and leave it for you to deal with in the morning. But whenever you meet Katsuki’s eyes — it’s like you’re back on his bed, he’s too close for comfort, and you're reminded of all those mornings you wished was so much more last night, and the itch for alcohol is swept away.
Mina rests her head on the curve of your shoulder, her hair tickling your cheek. She asks, too nonchalantly for your liking—
“Have you and Katsuki fucked this week yet?”
You’re fortunate enough to have decided to skip alcohol for tonight, or else you would’ve died from choking on it. You glance over, hoping Katsuki hadn't been paying attention, but to your relief, he was absorbed in a discussion with Kirishima. “I’m — Have we — What?!”
Mina barrels on obliviously. “Had sex. Gotten busy. Under the covers. Hands-on learning—”
“No, I — What the fuck!” You shove her off. Mina sways in place; you'd feel sorry if you weren’t so scandalized. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Oh.” Mina tilts her head and watches your reaction thoughtfully. “No wonder why. Katsuki’s looking all tense lately.”
What the hell. “So?!”
Your shriek disturbs the peace of the party.
Kaminari chimes in to add to the blow. You lock eyes with Katsuki from across the room — must be the ninth time this evening — while Mina and Kaminari crowd in on you, relentless with probing curiosity. “I also thought he was acting like he was lacking some action—”
Blood rushes to your cheeks as you rip your gaze off Katsuki’s questioning stare. Then, in a low whisper, “Katsuki and I have never — we aren’t even—”
Kaminari turns his head, presumably to eye Katsuki. “Why does he look like he’s about to eat you up?”
“Do I look like I can read his mind?” You feel irritation like a blade on your nerves. “If he’s all tense, then he should get his dick wet — and I’m not involved in any of that.”
Mina gapes, disgusted. “What? You’d just let him fool around with someone else?”
“Why would that be my issue?”
Mina and Kaminari share a look. “Oh my god.”
“You’re actually not together? Not even, like — just fooling around as friends?”
“No, Kaminari.” You hate how you sound defeated admitting that. “No, we’re not.”
“Fuck,” says Mina emphatically. “Fuck! You’ve got to fuck!”
“What — Why is this my responsibility? If he’s happy fucking someone else, let him be — You want him to loosen up, don’t you?”
Mina’s face shifts into a devious little thing. “You look like you want him to loosen you up.”
“Because I’ve been wanting to confess to him for two months now, and my liquid courage is nothing but a fucking cock-blocker!” you hiss in a frantic whisper.
“We’ve got to fix this!” Mina says, the hero that she is. “We need you to get laid!”
“Please tone it down,” you plead.
Kaminari tugs you down in a mock of a team huddle. You squirm uncomfortably; you can taste the liquor in their breaths. “What’s your game plan?” he asks. “Seduce him? Lock him up in his room, maybe?”
“I guess? I just want to do it sober.”
Mina suddenly leaps to her feet, yelling like a soldier. “Isolate him, then force your love!”
“Sober and preferably not unhero-like.”
Mina squeals, cupping your cheeks. “Do it tonight. He’s ready, I can feel it. He’s looking at you.”
Everyone in the room is casting glances at the three of you, but thankfully, Sero, Jirou, and Kirishima are respectful enough not to approach and disrupt the troubling conversation for your dignity’s sake.
“Of course he’s looking at me,” you wallow in mortification. “You’re making it too obvious. I’m going to get bullied.”
Mina smirks, her gaze trained ahead. “Yeah, you’re going to get bullied alright.”
You splutter, “What do you mean—”
Katsuki hovers over you three. “Let’s talk,” he demands, glaring hotly.
You’re back in Katsuki’s room, this damned space — the source of all your longing dreams and fantasies. The music from downstairs dials up, though it seems like it’s more out of consideration for you both. You’d been whisked away by Bakugou Katsuki once again, both of you blatantly disregarding the obscene gestures Mina and Kaminari were making as he pulled you upstairs. This time, however, you’re as sober as ever. It feels so different, like you're pulled out after submerging in the water for too long. Everything is so loud and clear.
Katsuki cages you against his door, never one to mess around.
“If I made you uncomfortable, punch me,” Katsuki says out of nowhere.
You’re speechless. “What?”
“Just — yell at me or some shit. Don’t start avoidin’ me, and don’t just move on to some other extra,” Katsuki mutters, deliberately averting your wide eyes. Move on to another— "I'll leave you alone."
"Why would I…" Move on to someone else? That's almost disrespectful to all the pining that's fucked with your head since this crap started. Move on? From Bakugou Katsuki?
"You were talking about it with those assholes."
Oh. He overheard all the wrong parts.
"I'm not gonna hook up with anyone else!"
The tension that has coiled tightly around his shoulders eases. Yet, despite this, he still hadn't made any bold moves to lead you to his bed, holding onto a fragile thread of hesitation that lingered in the air between you. Like you didn't just admit you're exclusively waiting for him.
His face twists up. “And, about that night, I wasn’t gonna — fuck, I’m not gonna do shit you don’t want, but I can’t read your mind. I don't wanna fuck this up.”
“What are we talking about?”
“The kiss, dammit — shit. Get it straight before I get the wrong idea.” Katsuki groans, resting an arm above your head. Is it wrong to be so endeared by someone clearly struggling to get his point across? “Do you mean it?”
You furrow your brows, arms crossed. This again. “What did I say, Katsuki?”
“When you said you wanted me to take care of you forever.”
What the hell? Did you really say that? Screw the exclusiveness of sex, that was basically a proposal!
Katsuki hooks a finger on your chin and forces your gaze back to him. Pay attention to me. Your eyes drift away for a second, catching on his ears, tinted ears — in contrast to his fierce scowl.
Your shoulders relax somewhat. Then you can't help but laugh.
Right, this is still just Katsuki. Your best friend, crush since forever; the guy who took care of you without even asking for anything in return. The guy who apparently has been considering your boundaries even though you've been seducing him drunk too many times.
“Why are you laughing,” Katsuki hisses; his frustration sounds more agitated than furious.
“So you did want to kiss me that morning?”
“No shit,” Katsuki huffs in a humorless laugh. “But, fuck, I’m not shitty enough to force you—”
“Katsuki,” you interrupt, “you should’ve.”
He falls silent, red eyes piercing yours searchingly.
Dangerous, your mind whispers, but you’ve never wanted to experience a thrill like this in your life. “I really wanted you to.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re lucky you took good care of me before I pounced on you drunk,” you say, and you mean it too. Your hands snake over his shoulder, tugging him down.
Katsuki’s breath catches in his throat, looking caught off guard. Wide-eyed and unsure. Cute. “Are you drunk right now?” he asks carefully.
“Never been more sober in my life,” you breathe.
He dives in for a rough kiss, one hand on the back of your head to push you deeper into him. You tilt your head to the side and — yeah, that’s better. Katsuki pries your mouth open, coaxing noises out of you that he each answers with a groan.
He smells like alcohol in his breath. It mixes with the scent of smoke — a dizzying, cloying scent that screams Katsuki. You want this more than Katsuki realizes. You want to sleep with it, to wake up to it.
“How much did you drink?” you ask.
“Just two light ones,” Katsuki says, and then one side of his lip quirks up. “Thought I had to take your ass home again.”
You smile coyly, tracing a finger over his bicep. “We can skip the foreplay — I'm already in your home, aren't I?”
Katsuki goes very, very still. Staring blankly. You hope you can convey it — you hope he doesn’t back out and pull away. You know he’ll get it. Katsuki is smart enough to pick up on your pleading gaze. His eyes burn; clearer, now, bright with understanding.
I want this, too. You’re not sure if you or Katsuki said it.
You take his daze as a chance to push him to his bed, with you straddling legs as his eyes devour every inch of you.
“Get the fuck out of here if you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” Katsuki says seriously.
You settle over his thigh, mimicking that morning, hands splayed on his chest. Katsuki wheezes out a breath that sounds like he’s been slammed onto a wall, his grip latching onto either side of your hips right away.
reason ☆ ( thirdyear!katsuki x reader ) suggestive — your boyfriend breaks up with you, and katsuki doesn’t waste opportunities
The first fact Class 1-A learns about you is that you have a boyfriend.
Well — had. And now you’re third years, and it’s safe to say that you should’ve broken up long ago.
You had him since middle school, but they never met him. Your dynamic shifted from the perfect picture of high school sweethearts to something more toxic since you got into UA — 1-A, no less. Yuusei didn’t pass the UA exams and called you insensitive for asking him to come meet your ‘fancy hero friends’ while he was from some low-profile school, and back when you had sympathy for him, it was difficult to be peeved at his blatant jealousy. He had a compelling, teary face.
“That’s called manipulative,” Sero says.
“He was really insecure,” you confess. Not that it makes it any better. He was manipulative because he was insecure — but that wasn’t all. He’d been that way long ago. There was a different turning point.
Kirishima gives a gentle, understanding pat on the back. “We were busy enough as it is. But now we’re about to graduate; of course you started thinking more about your future.”
“And you got the perfect ending — a future without him!” Ashido cheers to that. You take a long, long, victorious sip.
Right. After your breakup, you phoned Ashido about it, unaware that she was out with the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t like you were on speaker. Ashido gasped and shrieked, and the rest continued in her apartment, bottles of fancy wine that probably came from Bakugou lined up on the table.
Bakugou had been silent the entire time, sitting on the far edge of the couch across yours. You didn’t even think he’d come along. He’d always been coldly indifferent when it came to anything related to Yuusei. He doesn’t offer a single word; you expected him to call you stupid for dragging it this long when you entered the room. He just stared, ruby tracing your every step.
“So? What made you snap?” Kaminari asks, nestling into the cushion beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. You feel like a prey as Bakugou’s gaze holds on Kaminari’s arm for a moment too long. “What shit did he pull this time?”
Bakugou had been the reason for your breakup, and it almost feels like he knows exactly that.
Yuusei despised him. Bakugou is the physical embodiment of everything Yuusei failed to be, and you were friends with him. It really didn’t help that Bakugou has an ego and can back it up; Yuusei didn't have either.
Yuusei was in a heated argument with a classmate, and you got irritated by his voice drowning out even your music at the loudest volume. So you got up, buried your feet in your outside shoes, and glanced back.
“Hey, I’m going out.”
Yuusei was already having an awful day, and came the bottled-up aggression that made him spit in seething venom: “What, don’t tell me you’re going out to fuck Bakugou behind my back again?”
You paused from where you had been tugging your jacket sleeves up your arms. And then, unadulterated fury. The rest is history.
But that’s embarrassing to admit to your friends. They’d ask why Yuusei would even bring Bakugou up — why he is even a recurring argument in your relationship. It wasn’t just Yuusei that was the problem. Somewhere buried deep that Yuusei could feel was your shame, the one that knew Yuusei wasn’t just threatened by Bakugou because of one thing.
“He was having a bad day,” you say instead, and the mendacious excuse slips so easily. Back then, you thought it was because you needed to defend Yuusei; now, it was because you feared them also knowing the truth. “And I realized I just couldn’t — uh, anymore.”
“Yeah,” Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ashido agree together.
Bakugou finally shifts from where he’d been unmoving, ducking down to fill his glass. “‘least you learned your fucking lesson.” His gaze flicks up; the intensity makes you feel so shameful. It coils in your gut. “Forget the losers who can’t handle themselves. Go for the best.”
Coming from him. Is he flirting? This has to be flirting, right? Every word he says feels so charged, blatant with intent.
“Whoa, fresh on the market and you’re already saying that? Give it a few months, at least,” Kaminari laughs, followed by some, but you and Bakugou aren’t laughing. You’re stuck in this weird staring competition — looking away feels like admitting defeat. Feels like you’d straight up confess that yes, it’s you! You’re the fucking reason why!
“Yeah,” you mutter, though you’re not sure if it’s in response to Kaminari or Bakugou’s. You drag on another sip but feel as sober as a judge. You feel like you’d need ten more before you could even deal with whatever shit Bakugou is pulling.
“Cheer up, baby,” Mina coos. “You know you’re a catch. Yuusei will know exactly what he lost.”
“I don’t care about him anymore,” you say, which is the complete truth. “I’m getting shitfaced because I feel like I’m about to make a very bad decision.”
“Um?” Kirishima voices worriedly. “Do we need to take you somewhere?”
Bakugou stands abruptly, jingling his car keys in between his fingers. “Come on.”
“Are you drunk?” he asks before you can even pretend to open your front door.
“I only smell like it, but I really am too clear-headed for this,” you swear.
The moment he pins you to the wall and buries his mouth into yours, you know you are gone. This is what Yuusei had been fearing, what you’d been hiding — and fuck, it feels so good. He kisses like he’s starving like he’s been holding back for as long as you are. The shame comes spilling out soon after.
“I just got broken up with,” you say in a futile attempt to ease your guilt. “Hey — Katsuki, do you even—”
“I know what I’m doin’,” he says, mouthing over where your jaw and neck meet. "I know you want me."
“God, this is so fucked up,” you say, trailing off in a whine that really says a lot about you. “I’m an asshole. You’re really good at kissing — Katsuki—”
“Try three years of patience and tell me again what’s more fucked up,” Katsuki rasps, breath searing a mark on your skin, inciting a shudder that came down from your toes to your dizzy head.
“You were waiting for Yuusei and me to break up?”
“I get what I want.” Katsuki pauses, his eyes flicking up, arresting yours for a breath. “And he was a dick. Was bettin’ since year one.”
You curl a strand of his untamed hair, unwittingly charmed. “Sorry for making you wait.”
He responds by capturing your lips in a kiss, prying your mouth open with his, licking in, biting, pulling, grinding, and —
Katsuki softens his hold on your hips, pushing off. “Hey.”
You pant. Wow, you think, lightheaded, you don’t think you’d ever been kissed that well. “Hey,” you exhale over his mouth.
Katsuki bears his forehead heavily down on yours. “This isn’t some one-night stand rebound bullshit, you hear me? I didn’t wait three years just to get my dick wet — we’re doin’ this shit, got that?”
“I know,” you say, smiling. “You’re the best of all of them, right?”
husband of the year ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x reader ) — in your defense, who would've thought he would barge in while you're at work? clearly not you.
The TV was broadcasting and heatedly narrating Dynamight's current Villain-of-the-Week takedown when your co-worker, Yaeko whom you remember by her pin-straight waist-length hair and delight in a bunch of hearsay, taps on your shoulder for attention.
"Mm?" you murmur distractedly, incapable of tearing your eyes away from how the camera has easily captured the swift fluttering mid-air, even if just barely. No ordinary person could keep up with the force that is Bakugou Katsuki.
"Ayane-chan clocked out early."
"Did she?"
Yaeko settles on the plastic chair on your right, watching the #1 Pro Hero absolutely pulverize the villain with the most elegance, Bakugou style. She doesn't take it in with the same rapt. Doesn't hold her breath or tighten her grip on her knees, not like you.
"Her husband picked her up. They're having dinner," Yaeko sings, then sighs dreamily. "Oh, if only mine would pick me up with a nice, sleek car."
The villain finally registers he's clearly overestimated his plan for victory and starts begging for mercy. Dynamight appears too distracted to even feel victorious about it.
"That would be nice," you agree, though you're not really sure what she's saying anymore as Dynamight takes the last win. His expression looks off — far away.
'And once again, #1 Pro Hero Dynamight proves why he's at the top, breaking his last three-minute record! Looks like he'll be securing this year's ranking as well.' The reporter gushes like it's some Olympic Sport. Dynamight would grin like a fucking bastard, too, usually, but not today, it seems.
"How come I never see your husband?" Yaeko asks all of a sudden.
"That would be no good," you say, chuckling. "He's busy enough as he is."
Yaeko appraises your assured smile. "Hm. Is that what he says?"
The reporter continues gushing, "And he flees the scene in a signature Dynamight hit-and-run. He might be off to save another city; who knows!"
"That's what everyone says, really," you say cryptically, moments later. You wonder why Dynamight looked so distracted. It wasn't like him.
In the immediate silence that follows, you spare a glance at your co-worker. Yaeko looks thirsty for prying, but as soon as her shoulder comes in contact with yours, she rears back with a gasp.
"You're still sick!" she admonishes, not unlike in the tone a mother hen if they could speak and grip both your shoulders. "I was wondering why you even came today when you were all but dying last night."
You jerk away. "I was just feeling a little feverish. Nothing too bad.”
Yaeko clicks her tongue. The chair slides back as she pushes off to get water from the dispenser near the TV. The reporter drones on about how fortunate they were to witness the Pro Hero in broad daylight, followed by the dispenser's buzz.
"Your husband let you out like that?" she asks.
"He doesn't know," you murmur shamefully.
Yaeko appears unimpressed, holding the cup to your lips. You sigh and move to keep the glass yourself, feeling a little petulant about it.
Commotion begins to pick up in volume from outside, muted by the walls. Yaeko pays no mind to it, but your hair picks up on its ends. When there's a stifled sound of explosion, you understand why. The news moves to a different topic, though it seems that the headlines made its way to you himself.
"Shit. Hide me, Yaeko-san. Please."
Yaeko frowns. "What? Hey, don't move so much."
The door slides open and presents the #1 Hero himself, sweating and seething and still looking like a dream. He has to twist his upper body, the door for ordinarily built men unable to accommodate his solid, beefy arms.
"You," he growls, eyes blazing.
"Noo." You shield your face with the crook of your arm, but there isn't a single wall in the world that Dynamight can't break through.
Behind him, the security guard emerges and looks rightfully guilty. He makes a gesture of 'I tried, sorry. It's up to you now.'
He grips your elbow and pushes it out of view until your face is bare, and you're witness to his very, very angry face. "I told you not to punch in for work."
He did say that. "Uhh…"
"You went all," He pitches his voice somewhere obnoxiously high, "'Don't worry, baby, I won't!' — we lyin' to each other now?"
You did also say that.
"Baby?" Yaeko whispers to herself, stunned.
Dynamight scowls, ripping his glove out to press it on your forehead, his skin ice-cold. You wonder if this is how the villain from earlier felt, though maybe with a little less arousal at the sight of his eyes. "Fuckin' idiot," he mutters under his breath.
"Ha? You the one who asked this idiot to clock in?"
"No." You shield Yaeko's terrified expression with your hand. "No, she didn't. I did it myself."
"Yeah, 'cause you're a dumbass on your own," he says, and now the familiarity of bickering feels more like your Katsuki in the walls of your home. Your husband, who seriously came all the way here after kicking some ass. Katsuki turns to Yaeko. "Tell your boss we're leaving. Don't call."
And he pulls you up and drags you off. You half-expected him to throw you over his shoulder, but his neck brace might dig into your side painfully, and Katsuki has already considered it despite his boiling anger at your disobedience.
"Katsuki," you whine, heating up at the stonished staring while you're tugged off into the exit. "Did you really fly all the way here just to kidnap me home?
"The hell's with that," he snaps. "I'm clocking out for the day 'cause I'm not stupid like your stupid ass."
"Katsuki!"
"'sides," Katsuki gives you a long look over his shoulder, and oh, is this what he was thinking about the entire time? Your heart does a bit of somersaulting. "Who else is gonna take care of you?"
Yaeko can keep her nice, sleek cars. Nothing beats this.
needy ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x fem!reader ) mdni | 18+ — katsuki's kink is probably you asking for it; katsuki has a filthy mouth im sorryyy 1.7k
You're usually not the first to initiate this. Sex. Katsuki doesn't worry about failing to get what he wants, not like how you are right now. He's vociferous — "Can I fuck you, baby?" and you'd melt against him so easily because you fell for Bakugou Katsuki for that reason.
You can't do that. You don't know how to approach him with the same effortlessness and not get swallowed up whole by the urge to flee before you can even get a word out. It's not for the fear of rejection but for how bare you'd be asking for it. Sex.
Katsuki, of course, notices your restlessness for the entire evening. He doesn't say anything about it at first, not even while you eat together and you can't seem to meet him in the eyes, or how you don't join him in the shower unlike always, or even how you sit on the edge of the bed like there's steam blowing out your ears.
"Spit it out," Katsuki says, his back pressed against the headboard. "Look at me."
You clutch at your chest, bringing attention to the unsteady thumping of your heartbeat. You rip your gaze off the floor and instead gravitate to Katsuki's biceps bulging from the press against his chest.
You swallow a pathetic noise, reminded of what exactly you've been needing from your boyfriend.
You tear your eyes away from his arms and meet an arched, pale eyebrow. Assessing. How is this so hard? You can't even bring yourself to choke out a "pleasefuckme" because Katsuki makes you feel like some freshman asking for some hand-holding in the hallway.
It's embarrassing to be years in a relationship with Katsuki, but you're so attracted to him that asking to be fucked feels the same as asking him out.
It's Katsuki's expression that cracks the fragile atmosphere. He has his brows pinched in a crease that wrinkles his forehead. His face doesn't betray anything else, but you're well-versed in Katsuki to understand that he is just as nervous as you are. Anxious.
"It's nothing bad," you assure him, guilt aching in your chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you."
Katsuki eases just an inch. He clicks his tongue and looks away. "Could've sworn otherwise."
As terrible as that sounds, how Katsuki is just as affected as you are invertedly calms you down. Whatever happens, you know Katsuki will be honest with you.
Clinging onto the last shred of your dignity, you crawl over pillows and settle on Katsuki's lap. Hovering.
His confusion overtakes his worry, hands instinctively reaching out to your waist. "What—"
"Katsuki," you begin, and his breathing halts in anticipation. Tentatively, barely there, you roll your hips over his, fluttering in delight when his cock swells with growing interest, and you can feel it, right there, separated by layers—
"Fuck," he hisses through his teeth, heated hands moving to your ass. "You..."
"Please," it tumbles out your mouth so nicely. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately." Shame burns on your cheeks, watching as his dick stirs. Intrigued. "And you haven't been — giving it. Lately."
"That what it is?" he asks quietly, almost in disbelief. "Needed me to fill you up?"
There's no better way to say it.
When you look up from where you two meet, Katsuki's pupils have dilated so wide that there's barely a trace of red. It speaks of a promise: I'll give it to you. Air closes around your throat, thighs twitching. He feels it, too.
"Been hurtin', weren't you?" he says, sounding untamed as he breathes it over your ear, inciting a full-body shiver. "Been needin' it bad? M'sorry. Didn't mean to neglect you, sweetheart."
"Katsuki," you gasp brokenly.
"Mm." He kisses your jaw, sucks on it, hands catching on the drawstring of your sweatpants, pulls on it. You lift your thighs. Soon enough, you're fully bare waist-down. "So fuckin' hot, asking for me to fuck you like that. Shit, I'm gonna be dreamin' about that for months."
He proves his interest by grinding up your thigh. You whine, feeling it from the back of your throat. You need him so badly. You barely notice that you're still rubbing yourself against him until there's a wet patch over his sweatpants.
"Hold still, sweetheart."
Katsuki dips a finger where you're unsurprisingly wet. He rubs where he knows you're sensitive the most, the slick of your arousal making the friction so good. Your back arches and Katsuki's cooing, coaxing each noise out with his fingers and the filth from his mouth.
"You're already wet," he says, pupils as dark as his voice.
"Don't tease," you manage to choke out, gripping the front of his shirt. "I already — ah — prepped myself. I needed you to fuck me last week."
Katsuki stills, his eyes flicking from your cunt to your needy expression, then curses under his breath.
"Fuck, fuck," he says. "Fuck you. You have no idea how hard it'll be to go out on patrol when I'm thinkin' about you talkin' dirty like that."
Embarrassment floods your entire body. "Don't say it like that, asshole. And focus on your patrol! Don't let your dick distract you from the villains!"
Katsuki shuts you up by sliding the roughness of his palm over your heat, pulling a whimper that makes him grin. "They're the distraction. Never you. Thinkin' about you all the time — this, all the time."
"Pervert," you say, but you're moving your hips along his hand.
Katsuki laughs once, pulling you off his hips, only for him to pull his sweatpants down by his knees. "Who was the one beggin' for it?"
You can't bring yourself to think of something witty. The sight of him hard in front of you has you robbed of incoherent thought.
Katsuki knows it. He's seen that look on your face time and time again — know only he can do that to you. "Let me make it up to you, yeah? Let me fill you up the way you'd been cravin'."
He's so embarrassing with that mouth. It's a wonder why you're whining louder, getting wetter.
"You want it," Katsuki says, leaning back against the headboard. "Baby, you wanted this, didn't you? Take what you want from me."
You may be the one on top of him, but you've never felt all the more embarrassed, giving him a full view of how wet you are for him just by thinking about it. It drips. Yet you find yourself too needy to complain, not wanting to waste the opportunity he's giving.
"Okay," you say, lifting your hips up enough for him to watch yourself lining up above him.
And does he watch, eyes wild. You may be the one to initiate this, but he's the one looking desperate for it. Like he can't bring himself to wait a second longer before burying himself in you. He's big. You might've stretched yourself open, yet it'd take a while for you to accommodate his size again after days without it. So you only take him in inch by inch, impressed by how Katsuki screws his eyes shut, keeping himself from moving.
"Fuck," you both say in tandem.
You shudder, feeling so full in a way you've been itching for. You can barely resist your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel him twitch inside you. Katsuki's not fairing any better, fingers digging in your hips, some noise close to a whine by the back of his throat. The thought of him leaving marks when you've been so bare of it for too long has you clenching around him. He groans, unable to help himself from thrusting up. You share a gasp.
You tremble, feeling boneless and restless simultaneously. "Katsuki. Katsuki—”
You're not entirely sure what you're trying to say, only that Katsuki understands.
"I know," he says, sounding just as winded. "Wanted it, too, you don't even know."
At his muttering, you find yourself fucking against him, chasing the pleasure his words are giving you. You missed this badly. Nights when he had evening patrol and you were achingly empty were the worst; you couldn't complain, but you've wanted to hide Katsuki from the world and keep him to you for too long. Your wrists ache at the reminder — they were never as good as this.
Your answering moan is loud in your mouth, hips gaining speed. He reaches far deeper than you can even try. He knows it.
"Yeah? Your fingers not enough, ain't it?" Katsuki says, rolling his hips up when you slam down, gaze hot as you tremble above him. "Look at you, baby. So wet and hot. You're making a mess. Needed it that bad?"
"Yes. Please, please," you can only say. You feel yourself losing strength as your climax slowly reaches for you.
"Fuck," he exhales, and thankfully uses those years of upper body strength training to help you ride him — where it nearly feels as if you're barely exerting any effort. Sweat trails down his jaw, his eyes ravaging the sight of you swallowing him up every thrust. "You — needed me to fill you up like this, huh?"
"Katsuki, I—” You want to look away, shame filling your insides. It's unfair that Katsuki is so attractive that just looking at him makes you surrender so easily. "I think I'm close. Katsuki, I can't—"
"Hah," Katsuki twitches, breath seizing. "Yeah? You gonna give it t'me, baby? Come on. Know you can. Show me how good I make you feel."
Tears well up in your eyes. This position has him reaching so deep inside that after this, you know you'll miss how you can feel him in there, like he's branding himself in your body, staking a claim where no one else can see. But they'd know. On the bruises on your hips, the marks all over your neck, how you're chanting Katsuki's name and—
Katsuki kisses you deeply when you spill, his own release following along like just seeing you gets him every time. You moan fully in his mouth, always surrendering.
"Thank you," you sigh against him.
Katsuki snorts, massaging shapes into the sides of your hips. "You know I'll always want it more than you. Don't gotta thank me for that."
late evenings ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive
Your ears ring from the absence of noise as you shut your room door behind you. The static buzz of the electric fan is barely a reprieve — it's pin-silent and unnerving, bereft of light and life.
"C'mere," a voice rasps out, shattering the quiet.
Instantly, your nerves settle at the familiarity of your boyfriend's timbre. Your eyes are still straining in the unilluminated room, but with the slivers of dappled moonlight, it's easier to piece in how Katsuki is taking up the room. On your bed for two.
It's cold as you breeze to him, your skin still quivering from that fresh shower, smelling of Katsuki's shampoo and your favorite body scrub. But it's warmer as you snuggle up to him on the sheets, his arms swiftly pulling you closer by the waist. Every tension you've been keeping wounded tight releases all at once. Katsuki's leg throws itself over your hip like you're a walking body pillow.
"You're late," he says.
"I have a curfew?"
"Idiot." Katsuki still looks displeased. "Did you even eat?"
You nose his collar, smiling in that secret giddy way whenever Katsuki makes you feel so warm and cared for. "Mm. Saw the plate you prepared for me. Little cold."
Katsuki flicks at the exposed skin by your hip. "Don't complain. Your fault for working overtime."
"Missed you, too, Katsuki," you say with great forbearance, languidly pushing off just enough to catch his expression.
In the filtered light, you can make out how Katsuki's still got that cute scrunch of pale brows. His eyes are stark red, watching. You wait patiently — he looks like that when he wants something.
A shiver lances up your spine as Katsuki's fingers brush over the nape of your neck. His skin there is cold from the chill of your legs and the room, compared to the heat that's rushed to your face and everywhere around it whenever you're around Katsuki.
"Cold," you say, wincing away.
Katsuki keeps you still. "Warm it up then."
He really did miss you. It's just his dick seems to have missed you more. "…You want to have sex right now?"
Katsuki's head dips in a single nod. To prove his eagerness, he brushes his hip over your leg, where you feel his hardness under his sweatpants like a brick of heat. You swallow in nothing in particular, knowing firsthand how he can do you so well, but sleep is already clawing at you.
"Let's just do it tomorrow," you say, unable to hide your amused smile. "My legs are already sore, Katsuki!"
Katsuki groans in frustration, though his face portrays a kicked puppy more than anything. "Fine," he snarls. "Not tonight. Just ignore my dick suffocating down there, I guess."
"Kinda hard when it's so big."
You laugh when you feel it twitch against your thigh. Katsuki swallows the sound up with a searing kiss in retaliation, and your giggles melt easily into sounds of pleasure. Katsuki's cold hands travel up your spine, but they don't do anything else, warming itself up on the blossoming warmth there.
Katsuki breaks away, muttering, "Don't complain when I wake you up."
"What? To you humping me like a dog?" You kiss his scrunched nose. "Tomorrow; it'll feel so much better tomorrow. I’ll make you feel good."
A laugh bubbles out of you again. Katsuki's face softens nearly imperceptibly.
He shifts until your face is buried under his chin — to hide his expression, maybe, but you have no complaints surrounded by his scent. With this, it's impossible to resist the call of sleep. You're dead to the world when Katsuki's fingers trace mindless circles by your waist, but you don’t miss how Katsuki sneaks in a kiss to your forehead before you go.
let me ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x fem!prohero!reader ) — you underestimate how gentle katsuki can be, if you needed it | smut
( warnings. ) minors and ageless blogs dni ! fingering, praise, soft gentle sex iktr, reader is going thru tough times & katsuki takes care of you, timeskip!katsuki — 18+
You underestimate just how gentle Katsuki can be.
The instant your fingers click on the lock, Katsuki is already a step behind, his presence a looming force over you like an unshaken shadow. There must be something on your face; Katsuki frowns as he studies it intently, fingers ghosting over your arms, like he’s trying to read between lines that you haven’t even drawn in yet.
"Something happened." He doesn't phrase it as a question, sounding sure of himself. “What?”
"I'm safe," you swear to him, pulling your coat off. "No bruises or anything. See?"
He ignores your extended arms, pinning your gaze with his own. "What," Katsuki demands.
"Katsuki—” You sigh and attempt to push past him. He just rears back and keeps his eyes trained on your face searchingly. "Katsuki, I'm too tired to deal with this."
His brows dip downward further. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."
You falter, struggling to maintain this flimsy display of strength — he knows you too well for that.
He waits. Patient, gentle, like he’s so sure that he can carry this burden with you. You know he can. It’s that fact that makes you think, Of course not. Of course you could never be too tired of him. He never tires of me, too.
“I don't—” you say, looking away, “I don’t know if I can keep doing this anymore. Am I even doing anything right?”
There must be some other reason — Katsuki is evidently fumbling at the threads to tie it all together in his head, but as of the moment, that is all you’re feeling. You don’t know if you can keep doing this. Your limbs want to sag to the ground, knowing it has to prepare again to face the brunt of tomorrow — but you have to care for it, too, or else you’ll wake up dead. Katsuki doesn't deserve that, even if you’re falling apart.
"Everything is just so hard," you continue, the surge of emotions you'd been desperately keeping a tight leash on bursting at the seams; "None of it makes any sense. I don't know if I'm doing anything right."
Katsuki's frown eases. "C'mere."
The next breath you take comes out wet and shaky. The next step you take gravitates to him.
Katsuki pulls you to his chest as you sob. He buries his nose into your hair, rubbing shapes into the small of your back. It almost feels like he’s coaxing it out of you with every touch. You cry violently, lungs spasming, everything pouring out finally — and throughout it all, Katsuki doesn’t split away, even as your tears and snot leave a disgusting patch on his shoulder. If anything, he keeps you enveloped in his warmth, as if he can tell that it helps even without being told.
“N-nothing happened,” you sniffle, trembling, and Katsuki pushes off just enough to see your face; “But it was so overwhelming. I just — I dunno.”
“Baby,” Katsuki starts. You’ve never heard him speak so softly before, low and rough and embodying gentleness that you don't know if you deserve. “Let me take care of you tonight, yeah?”
That sounds good. God, you want him to do that so bad. But looking so weak in front of someone so remarkably strong like Katsuki is embarrassing. You're not some child needing to be told that you're doing good and everything will be all right — needing to be coddled because you had a bad day.
“I want to,” Katsuki says; you feel as though he can read your mind. "Let me."
"…okay." You nod, averting your gaze. "Please take care of me."
And so Katsuki helps you bathe, kisses your knuckles, pulls one of his shirts down that reaches to your mid-thigh, brushes your hair out of your eyes, feeds you dinner he's cooked, and kisses you again. All the while, it's silent. Peaceful. It should unnerve you that Katsuki hasn't spoken a single word since, but you revel in the comfort of hearing his measured breaths instead.
It’s like you can hear him think: You’ll be okay. So let me take care of you. Let me help you be okay.
You feel like you're melting out of your own body, sinking into the comforter's embrace on your shared bed, losing tension in Katsuki's scent and affection.
“Pretty,” Katsuki mumbles, his hand crawling down.
Then you go still when Katsuki watches your expression as he glides a finger in between your legs.
Your cheeks burn. "I — w-what—"
Katsuki hums, thoughtful. "You're already…"
Well, it happens that today is a day of many discoveries. It turns out, Katsuki's hands can be so soft as he works shampoo through your head, and you get horny seeing how attuned your boyfriend is to your needs.
Katsuki can be so gentle with his hands. Of course you’d been thinking of how gentle he can be elsewhere.
"You want me to?" Katsuki asks, slipping a hand under your shirt. His heated fingers caress your waist, his thumb rubbing circles that trickle hotness down elsewhere.
You aren't sure why you feel so shy. You've done worse with each other. "You don't have to. If you just feel like you have to—"
Katsuki lifts an impatient brow. "You think I wouldn't want to?"
You squirm, suddenly aware of the empty ache that is longing for Katsuki. "W-well—"
Katsuki kisses under your right ear before he tugs on your underwear and flings them off to the side. He pulls back to devour your lips in a kiss, swallowing your noise of surprise. Your hands find home in his hair and he thumbs on the source of your heat.
You jolt and choke on a moan as he increases the mind-numbing friction. "Let me take care of you," Katsuki says; "let me, say yes."
"Yes," you cry out in his mouth. You feel floaty with the surge of lust shuddering through your entire body. "Please."
When you break away, you see his pupils wholly overtaking his iris, not even a hint of red. Katsuki licks over his teeth as he stares like he hasn't already eaten dinner. Like he’s doing himself a favor. You wrap tentative fingers around his wrist to guide his hand to your cunt, twitching because it knows it's going to be filled so well with Katsuki here.
Katsuki would make it so good; you know it. You know it so well. He’d know how you want it — need it.
He groans as you feel yourself get wetter. "Baby, shit — you needed this, yeah?"
"Katsuki—"
"I know." Katsuki rubs on the sensitive bud of your clit, kissing your jaw. "I know. Relax, baby, relax for me. Make it feel good. Just like that. Yeah, fuck, like that."
You feel dizzy. Katsuki teases one finger in, watching your face with rapt attention. You're so wet that he slides in easily; he could slip in two more just like that. But Katsuki is focused on making you feel the sensations instead, taking it slow, one by one, leaving you a fluttering, whining putty under him.
Katsuki’s heavy breathing makes you tighten around him involuntarily. He curses, patience rescinded. "One more?"
"Yes, please please — more — ah—"
He curls his fingers, and you tremble and whine, white-knuckled, gripping him, trying to meld yourself into him. Katsuki echoes your sound in a rasp, "Mm. You hear yourself? Fuckin' gorgeous."
It should be embarrassing that you're close already, yet who can blame you with Katsuki overwhelming your senses with every inch of his body — all over and inside you? His fingers are hot, and you're burning up, a coil in your stomach begging to be released.
Your legs shake as your back arches. "Kats — Katsuki — ah, please, please. Please, I'm—"
Katsuki kisses you through all of it. "I know. I know, baby. Don’t gotta beg. I gotcha — give it to me."
You thought you'd already exhausted all your tears, but Katsuki whispering in your ear and coaxing an orgasm out of you so tenderly pulls heat into your eyes. You forget about the weight on your shoulders. Right now, you can only think of how you could fall and Katsuki would catch you. You cry as you break, pulse jumpstarting, and Katsuki takes care of you all over again.
