cinnamon lingers in the air, the pale wall blurs your vision, and your ears are swallowed by the low hum of the AC — well, that and the sounds of his lips against your neck.
"you nervous?" he questions, although he already knows the answer.
since stepping into katsuki's apartment, you've barely spared him a glance — a quiet aura of hesitation clinging to your every move.
it's not that you and katsuki haven't kissed before — pecks on the lips do count — it was that you'd yet to kiss him like this. with your legs on either side of his lap, your bra the only thing left between you, and your breath dancing in the small space between your lips.
katsuki's warm, very warm — almost overwhelmingly so. his chest sticking to the lace of your bra and his body pressed so close it makes it hard to think.
his hands are like a heated weight over the small of your back, coasting over ridges and curves on your skin as he tries to soothe your obvious tension — keyword: tries.
because as his lips trail from the dip in your collarbone to the shell of your ear — you feel all sanity getting lost underneath his fingertips.
"you in there?"
honestly, you're not quite sure. "mhm, yeah i'm here"
you nod as if you're trying to convince yourself, too — ignore how the sudden closeness of his lips makes your cheeks heat and your heartbeat sound in your ears. flurries of panic only burrowing their way to your throat when his hands suddenly cup your face.
"no, you're fuckin' not"
katsuki's always had this knack — a silent understanding of the way your brain works. your quietness was never something he pushed against, only something he wished to ease.
even as his thumb drags slowly over your cheeks, you know he's only trying to steady you.
you whisper a small breath of his name, circling your hands around his wrists as your foreheads press together — that's all it takes.
and maybe, that's when something in you finally gives — when all that hesitation breaks the moment his eyes stare patiently into yours, and why you're the one pressing your lips together before you can even think twice.
he tastes like caramel, a warmth that settles onto your tongue slowly, like the sunlight peeking through an open window.
surprisingly tense under your touch, his hands pause against your back — his mind insistent on following your guidance.
he presses his lips gently against yours, slow and tentative, like if he rushes this moment it may end too soon. groaning breathlessly into your mouth when your hands card through his hair, and give the strands a gentle tug before they're back on his face.
it's not long before your confidence wavers, his muscles tightening subtly underneath your palms as you pull your lips away, breathlessly.
katsuki's cheeks are red, hair stuck to his forehead and a faint shine coating his chest. his lips are flushed a bright pink, spit-soaked — breathing unsteadily as he looks at you like he's trying to figure out what you're thinking.
"again," you murmur, chest heaving against his, "please?"
a toothy grin spreads across his face when your eyes dart over his features — as if they're in search of something — some kind of reassurance.
which katsuki is glad to give when he presses a teasing peck to your cheek, adjusting himself underneath you so your body's pulled even closer and whispering, "you drive me crazy, you know that?"
you can't help but smile.
lips skimming his for the last time tonight — this time with no intentions of pulling away. guiding his hands to your lower back as you press into his palms.
your hips move against his thigh at a steady pace, soft sounds of your lips meeting blending with the hum of the AC.
"katsuki?"
there's an annoyed sigh that tumbles from his mouth when your lips detach, "hm?"
a/n: kali loves intimacy! i like writing this more than smut let's be so fr. i tagged it as smut cuz i don't want people yelling at me so just to be safe! -> masterlist. | comments and reblogs greatly appreciated! 💋
summary: when you’re unable to sleep for the third night in a row, katsuki notices— and takes matters into his own hands.
( OR: your boyfriend fucks you to sleep. )
content: comfort / fluff + SMUT - mdni ! pro-hero!bkg. established relationship. domestic intimacy. implied insomniac!reader — can be read as simply having issues with sleep. some banter. clear consent. soft kissing. slight marking / hickeys. pet names (baby). breast play. spit (on ur clit). dedicated pussy eating. fingering. self doubt/insecurity + praise/reassurance. finger sucking. missionary to mating press. "i love you" during sex. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. cum eating. aftercare. emotional & soft smut with feelings, bkg is very much in love !!! and he doesn’t cum but he dgaf this is abt u. quite some build up before the smut lmao. wc: 6.2k.
note: thinking back to the days i would literally Not Sleep 🚬🚬 also this to me is veery soft dom bkg i like dat ^_^
masterlist. | fic based on this request ! ( thank u anon!! )
The glow of your phone was soft against the tired lines of your face. You scrolled through your feed mindlessly, dry eyes fixed onto the screen, barely lingering on anything for longer than a few seconds.
Dull frustration sat heavy under your skin.
You couldn’t sleep. Again. And it wasn't for a lack of trying.
You'd taken the medicine, made your attempts— many attempts. Setting your phone down, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing desperately for a soft, peaceful slumber to come find you.
But it never did.
So, you did what you had done the two nights before this: distracted yourself. Doomscrolled well into the hours of the early morning, when the faint, first rays of the sun filtered through your curtains and you could finally get up and not have to pretend anymore.
It was all you could do, really.
Your weighted gaze dragged over to the time in the top right corner. The bold numbers 3:24 stared back at you like a taunt. You exhaled quietly, temples throbbing.
You should stop.
You should’ve stopped hours ago.
But before you could berate yourself any further, a high-pitched squeak tore through the stillness of the room.
You clutched your phone over your chest in an instant breath caught dead in your throat as the mattress creaked. Your pulse hammered in your ears as the sheets rustled behind you, a tell-tale sign of your boyfriend shifting in his sleep.
With a grunt, Katsuki threw a heavy arm over your waist, turning so that his bare chest was pressed up against your back. The warmth from his skin seeped in through your shirt. He was all encompassing, enveloping you in his dizzying heat.
Swallowing, you prayed silently that you hadn't woken him.
He let out a sigh, the soft sound muffled into the nape of your neck.
You remained as still as you could, fighting to not squirm.
A beat passed, then another.
Your insides melted with quiet relief when he didn't stir, when the rise and fall of his lungs fell in sync with yours— his body giving no indication that he was awake.
With a quiet breath you picked up your phone again, going back to what you what had busied yourself with before he chose to get all cuddly. But when the brightness of the screen decided to assault you, your heart dropped to your stomach, that relief dying in an instant.
You grimaced at the light, fumbling to quickly get it back down to the lowest setting. It had been all the way down this whole time! You must've misclicked, or—
"You're a shitty fuckin' actor."
You could've swore your soul left your fucking body at the gravelly voice against your ear.
"What the fu—"
You didn't get a chance to finish. Katsuki was already reaching over you, guiding your hand with his to set your phone facedown on your nightstand before bringing it back over your middle, rough palm holding your hand over your stomach.
Your shoulders were wound tight as he spoke; voice tired, gruff as always. But, strangely, he sounded calm.
"Third night in a row. You're not sleeping right."
It was less of an accusation, more of a statement.
He gave it to you plainly, straight and simple. But you thought you had been discreet, the mere feeling of being caught was enough to have you opening your mouth, readying your defense, but his next words had it snapping back shut.
"And don't you fucking lie to me 'bout it."
You bit the inside of your lower lip, running over how you could possibly explain yourself without sounding pathetic.
The last few nights had been much the same: restless, spent tossing and turning.
Even when you did manage to fall asleep on the first try, you'd wake up at odd hours, left to stare at the ceiling with burning eyes, unable to quiet your mind, which was simultaneously ever-racing and absolutely empty.
When you thought about it too long, the corners of your eyes pricked. A quiet, defeated ache twisted in your chest.
You didn't want to cry, not over something so menial, so stupid. Not now, not with him watching— expecting an answer from you.
You swallowed back the lump building up in your throat, feeling the slow brush of his thumb over your knuckles.
"Not sleepy."
It came out tight, quiet. Like you were afraid that if you spoke too loud, your fragile attempt at keeping all of that built up frustration inside would fall apart.
You wanted him to give it up, let you be for once. But Katsuki Bakugou was nothing if not stubborn.
With a rumbling sigh, he rolled you onto your back, reaching an arm over you to pull at the chain of your bedside lamp.
You groaned at the sudden light washing over your bedroom, tugging your blanket up over the bottom half of your face as if it could protect you.
Annoyed, you zeroed your squinted eyes onto him, but that angry furrow between your brows weakened as you took in the image of him propped up on one elbow to look down at you.
The warm, honeyed lamp-light caught the ends of his mess of blond hair. It was unrulier than usual, sticking up in odd directions from sleep.
He was still tired— blinking slowly, as if his eyelids were too heavy. The usual harsh lines of his face looked almost uncharacteristically soft, but his gaze was weighted with something unspoken.
Guilt twisted inside your chest.
He was awake because of you. On a work night.
You looked away when he finally spoke up again.
"It's 3 AM. Don't bullshit with me."
"I'm not bullshitting, Katsuki," you reasoned, wishing you could just sink back into the mattress and not have to deal with this. "I'm… this just happens sometimes. Go back to sleep."
You tried to turn your head the other way, but he caught you by the cheek, pushed your face towards him with a firm hand to make you look at him again.
His jaw was clenched tight as he focused in on your face, took in your sunken eyes, the quiet exhaustion dampening your expression.
You knew he hated when you got like this, all dismissive and stubborn, a mirror of him.
"Don't do that shit." He bit out, his brand of harsh concern. "Not with me."
"I'm not doing anyth—"
"Don't be a fuckin' hard ass, alright? Talk."
"I can't sleep! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I can't fucking sleep? I just can't! I close my eyes, I try... but I can't! And it's—"
You came to a stop the moment you realized the increasing volume of your voice. You reeled back into yourself, embarrassed of your own outburst.
Turning from his hold, you opted to look up at the ceiling, dragging a hand down your face with a deep, shaky sigh.
"Sorry," you murmured. "This is so stupid. But seriously, I'm good."
You didn't spare him a look before turning your back to him with finality, knowing that if you met his eyes — so focused on you, attentive as ever — it would all come pouring over.
Your throat was tight as you spoke. You hoped he couldn’t tell.
"Sleep, Katsuki. It's late. Don't wanna keep you up, too."
Just when you thought he would give it up, let you deal with this miserable situation by yourself like you always did, he shifted— sat up, pulled back your blanket off of you with a single, harsh tug.
You groaned at the lost warmth, looking at him confused.
"Kats—?!"
He cut you off.
"You tried everything, huh?"
Something about the way he said it — rough and challenging — made your heart spike. He was up to something, but what? You were too exhausted to figure it out, so you offered him a weak answer.
"…Yes?"
"Right."
With one swift motion, he pushed your thighs apart. The outline of his broad shoulders rose from between your legs, thick biceps flexing as he brought your thighs around his waist.
Your legs tightened around him on instinct, bringing him closer as he hovered over you, supporting himself with two steady arms at your side.
You blinked up at him, wondering if he could feel the flustered heat radiating off of your face from being this close.
"W-What're you doing?"
"Helping."
When you continued to just blink back at him at that lackluster answer, a single brow raising slowly, he elaborated with a soft grunt.
"Said you're not sleepy, yeah?"
"… Yeah?"
"Cumming makes you sleepy." all blunt, matter of fact.
Your brows twisted.
"What?" The heat burning your cheeks crawled up to the tips of your ears as your eyes widened incredulously.
It was in his nature to say things as they were, crude and direct, but it still caught you off guard at times, especially over something like this. For someone who got flustered fairly easily, he sure had his moments.
"C'mon. Don't tell me you don't know it." His palm smoothed over your inner thigh, the rough callouses and scars familiar, warm against your soft skin. Careful in a way only you got to see. "Every time we fuck you're out like a light."
"Oh."
"Yeah." he murmured, a little smug. "Tried that?"
You shot him a look. "Obviously not, asshole."
He only chuckled softly, tilting your face up to meet his, kissing the glare right off of your face. His lips moved against yours, slow and intentional.
A soft warmth bloomed behind your ribs as you kissed him back tiredly, letting his movements guide you.
You brought careful hands to rest over his muscled chest, palms slowly sliding up, fingers brushing over the raised, jagged skin of the scar over his heart.
You wrapped your arms around his neck lazily, uncaring that they felt like lead, just wanting him closer to you as your fists curled into the soft hair at his nape.
He pulled back barely an inch, breathing a question against your lips, "You wanna try that?" before kissing you again.
Your brows creased, any semblance of an answer faded into a soft moan against him.
"C'mon, baby," he murmured, pulling back properly this time to kiss up your throat, mouth lingering against your skin.
Baby. He was calling you baby. Because he knew you loved it, knew it turned you to mush— hearing him, always so crude and unapologetic about it, refer to you so sweetly.
A shaky sigh slipped past you as he brought a large hand to the back of your neck, curving it toward him. His kisses turned to gently sucking soft marks and you shuddered, fighting a whine.
"Quit bein' difficult." he huffed, breathe hot against you. "Lemme take care of it."
He brought his face back to watch you like a hound, waiting for your confirmation.
Amidst catching your breath, you contemplated, pursing your lips in thought.
"I… I mean, it doesn't hurt to try?"
It was true, you hadn't tried this 'method' to sleep and part of you was curious whether it would work or not.
But, again, it was a work night, so despite your desperation and exhaustion, you knew that this whole ordeal would get in the way of and the strict schedule Katsuki kept to optimize his health and performance.
He ate well, took part in rigid physical training; mandatory for the powerhouse of a man that stood at number 5 in the pro-hero rankings.
Like clockwork, he woke up at 6 AM, went out there and worked himself to the bone, put his body on the line, and unless the circumstances were dire (either he couldn’t sleep because of dreams of the past or he had missions that demanded later hours) he turned into bed at 8 PM sharp without fail.
From all the years of knowing, you knew that Katsuki was particular about his habits.
But amidst your guilt, you were forgetting that he was also particular about you.
You had wormed into his heart, became something of an exception for him in many regards. But you couldn't see that now, not with worry and weariness eating away inside you.
Your half-lidded eyes searched his, a soft crease forming between your brows as you looked up at him.
"... Do you want to, though? I don't wanna keep you up, or… or like make you do thi—"
He cut you off with a scoff, cocking his head in disbelief as if that was possibly the stupidest thing you could have said to him.
"Don't be an idiot, alright?" he pushed closer, nose brushing yours. "If that's the shit you're worryin' about, don't."
His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as you chewed on your bottom lip, voice lower; softer.
"Always fuckin' 'want to'."
You took in his words, blinking back the small sting in the corners of your eyes.
Katsuki didn't do pity, never did anything he didn't want to. And right now, he had nothing but undeniable want written all over his face.
There was something ravenous behind those irises, that fiery red sharp and determined in a way that had your stomach flipping.
"Okay," you decided with a slow nod, a small smile settling over your face. "We can try."
A self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face before he nodded back, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to peck your lips. His hands found your waist, sliding up your sides as he deepened the kiss.
You gasped slightly as they wandered up under your shirt, rough hands smoothing over the curve of your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his palms— giving them a firm, testing squeeze.
He kept your mouth parted with his, slipping his tongue against yours in a careful rhythm.
You made a muffled sound against his mouth when his thumbs brushed over your nipples, back arching just enough to tell him you wanted more.
Katsuki pulled back, the small string of saliva between your lips breaking as he began to lift up the fabric of your shirt.
"Arms up."
You complied, raising your arms over your head.
Those blazing eyes were narrowed, a subtle furrow forming between his brows— you always thought he looked gorgeous when he was focused, and being the center of that unwavering attention always had your mind spinning.
With a final tug, he pulled your shirt off, watching as your nipples hardened, exposed to the chill of your room.
His eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, pressed a wet kiss to your chest.
Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist as he cupped both your breasts with his hands, took his time pecking around the soft flesh. It was only when you huffed quietly that he chuckled, giving you a long, slow lick over your nipple.
He ran his thumb back and forth over the other, pinching the taut peak between his index and thumb as he sucked one into his mouth, the subtle scrape of his teeth drawing out a small, strangled sound from you as he nipped at your chest.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him in place.
An involuntary whine slipped past you when he pulled back from your chest with a soft pop, his hot mouth switching to the other, the whole process repeating until you were breathless— gasping incoherent strings of what vaguely sounded like his name, nails raking down the expanse of his broad upper back.
He drew back at last, taking in the picture of you; soft lips parted as you panted, a glistening sheen over your chest, dazed eyes blinking up at him— silently asking for more as they darted between his face and the obvious clothed bulge pressing against your core.
You thought he’d get straight to it, tug down his boxers and give you what he knew you wanted, but it seemed he had a different idea.
Pulling back between your legs, he lowered himself to your heat slowly, peppering sloppy kisses from your calf down to your inner thighs. When he finally pressed his lips right over your clothed clit, you groaned softly, head sinking back into your pillow.
His tongue peeked out to give your clit a little lick over your panties; warm and slow and wet.
You whimpered, thighs instinctively tightening around his head as you sighed out his name, wanting to melt.
"Katsuki…"
"You're always so pretty, y'know that?" he breathed out before kissing you over the cotton again, watching the damp spot grow darker under the soft amber lamp-light. "Shit drives me fucking crazy."
You drew in a shaky breath, ears burning.
You weren't exactly what you'd call pretty, right now. Your hair was very likely a mess, eyes red and heavy. And up until he had taken it off, all you had on was an old oversized shirt that had seen better days. Your panties weren’t much better; plain, save for the small bow at the center.
But the way he said it still made your heart flutter— as if, despite all of that, you were pretty to him.
You couldn’t gauge how your body looked, what he could see of you, and you were too tired to try and figure it out. But the uncertainty was enough to have you breathing out a small scoff.
"Don't just say that."
The corner of his lip curled back like you had just offended him to the highest degree.
"Y'know I never just say shit." he barked back.
Maybe you had, in a way. Because he really, really didn't. He never said anything he didn't mean when it mattered, especially not to you.
You bit your lip as his finger hooked under the hem of your underwear, his eyes asking you a silent question.
You nodded slowly, lifting your hips for him. He moved swiftly, slipping off the last piece of fabric shielding you from him.
He stared down at your bare heat shamelessly. Drank in how your wetness glistened under the soft light, the way your legs twitched slightly as if you were fighting the instinct to close them at his intense, unwavering gaze.
He traced a line down your slit with just a finger, relishing the small sound that drew out of you. His gaze met yours as he parted your folds with two fingers and leaned down, mouth hovering right over your pulsing core.
You watched with shallow breaths, eyes locked with his as he gathered spit in his mouth, letting a hot glob drop slowly onto your pussy. You groaned when he dragged the flat of his tongue over your clit, mixing it with your arousal.
He moaned into you, "Taste so fuckin' good…"
His tongue drew circles around your sensitive nub; so diligent, so thorough.
Like with everything, he gave it his all, didn't quit until he was satisfied. His method tonight was torturous, a slow pace that dragged out each sensation almost unbearably to ease you into that blissed out haze that'd surely knock you out.
He'd barely gotten started, and you were already panting, mind slowly slipping into that pleasure-drunk state.
Your fists curled around the sheets when he sucked your clit softly just to hear your breathy whines, smiling against you as you keened.
Katsuki Bakugou was known for his mouth. Snappy, explosive, unforgiving. It was what had drawn you to him in the first place, how he never held back.
But this mouth was the one only you got to know. Still relentless, unyielding, just a little mean— but it felt like devotion when he lapped at your leaking mess, fingers digging into your plush thighs to keep you in place as you squirmed.
You reached a hand down, let your fingers card through his soft hair before giving it a small tug. That earned you a groan, the deep rumble muffled against your dripping heat.
He licked a long stripe up your slit— wet, sloppy. Piercing eyes watching your face as he found your entrance, fucked you with his tongue before replacing it with two thick fingers, gathering your wetness before slowly pushing them in.
You groaned as he worked you up to the stretch, pushed them in knuckle deep.
Savoring the stuttering rise and fall of your chest, he slowly started to pump them in and out. Your eyes fluttered shut, head sinking back into your pillow as his fingers filled you up, curling against that familiar spot— a slow, deep pleasure building each time he hit it just right.
You wanted to cave, melt, maybe sob.
You were so close— you could feel it… just a little more…
But… there was this feeling sitting heavy in your chest, winding up tight around your heart.
You made a noticeable attempt to keep your sounds down as your mind began to race again, your focus drifting away from him as a question resounded your head— you should've already finished by now, right?
Katsuki was doing everything right, touching you perfectly, like he always did. He should be done dealing with you. But you hadn't finished yet, he was still going at it.
Your lower lip trembled. Maybe you were too tired, too caught up in your own exhaustion to cum. Whatever it was, something was holding you back. And If you really couldn't finish, then this would all be pointless, wouldn't it? You'd have wasted both of your time for nothing.
Before the worry could fully cloud your head, Katsuki gave your thigh a firm pat.
You looked down with a start; eyes half-lidded, unfocused.
"There you are." He muttered. "Eyes on me, got it? Hell’s the matter?"
Even when he was concerned, his brashness clung to him.
His care was rough around the edges, imperfect, but it was all his intent. He wanted to be careful with you, you could see it in his eyes, how they were just focused and just soft enough for you to detect.
Even if he didn't know exactly how to do it just right, he tried. Because you mattered. You meant something to him.
He lifted his face just enough for you to know you had his attention, stilled his movements and gave your thigh a small squeeze, a silent prompt to tell him what was wrong.
You couldn't look away if you wanted to, even as you felt your eyes sting— not when he was looking at you like that.
You gnawed at your bottom lip; embarrassed, ashamed.
"I can't."
He raised a brow. "Can't what?"
You let out an exasperated breath.
"Can't… can’t cum. I can't, feel like— I dunno, something's wrong with me, Katsuki, I'm—"
"Get outta your head." he cut off your babbling sharply. You whimpered when he started moving his fingers again, tongue coming down to drag over your clit at the same time. "Nothing's fuckin' wrong with you. I know you can."
His unshaken confidence in you was enough to draw out a soft groan, but his mouth and fingers working in tandem to build up that tightening warmth inside you again was what had your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as the pressure above your belly wound tighter and tighter.
That heaviness in your shoulders slowly melted as he picked up the pace, the worry and doubt wrapped tight in your chest loosened and faded steadily, the sweet promise of eventual euphoria taking over your senses.
Quick, shallow breaths escaped your lungs as you brokenly mumbled his name, bucking your hips against his mouth, squeezing around his head with your legs. Your hands found his hair again, pulling without a care as he nearly doubled his efforts.
With a choked out sob, you finally came, the fingers curled in his hair tightening just a bit more one last time before going lax.
You could feel him smiling against your core as you came down; proud, a little cocky, but above all, happy to be lost in the taste of you.
He kissed you through it, mouth unrelenting against your pussy even as your thighs spasmed and trembled, working you down from your orgasm.
With a final kiss over your clit, he finally pulled back, wiping the mixture of his saliva and your slick off the bottom half of his face lazily, like he didn't actually care whether it was there or not.
Shifting, he hovered over you, crimson eyes locking with yours, reading you silently with the same rapt attention he had out on the battlefield.
A light sheen of sweat was cast over his muscled arms at your sides, the highs of his cheeks were flushed a soft pink, spikes of blond hanging messily over his forehead.
"Still with me?"
His voice was gravelly, a smoky rasp. Just a little breathless, but the satisfaction in his eyes told you he'd have it no other way.
You attempted a response, still panting heavily.
"Mhm…"
"Not an answer, baby."
"…Yes. Thank you."
He leaned down to kiss you, you moaned softly at the taste of yourself off of his lips.
Pulling back, he trained his serious eyes on yours. "Don't thank me for that shit."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize either." You managed a snort at how impossible he was being, but he continued. "Feelin' sleepy?"
You hummed. "Yeah. A little."
He blinked once, scanning your face. Then grunted. "Not good enough."
"Katsuki, it's okay, you've done enou—"
"I told you, 'm gonna take care of it. Yeah?"
With his hands on the underside of your thighs, he pulled your legs around his waist, his hardened cock pressing over your still-drooling pussy, hot and heavy despite the single layer of fabric between you both.
Your heart picked up again; voice small, airy.
"Yeah…"
"Gonna let me, right?"
You whined. "But I just—"
"I know," he shushed you, slowly moving his hips, grinding himself against you agonizingly. "You can gimme another."
"Mh…”
Your lips pursed, brows pinched.
It could feel nice. It would feel nice.
You had warmed up to the idea, hips lifting just slightly to push against him as he moved, a quiet, nearly imperceptible motion.
He noticed, like he always did, but still, he wanted to draw it out of you.
"C'mon, gotta say it." his voice was a half-tease, low and coaxing, yet that mocking undertone never left. "Can only do it if you say it."
You groaned, embarrassed heat crawling up your neck.
He always did this—made you say it out loud, full-well knowing how it embarrassed you.
It was as though he lived to see you get heated, got something out of watching your lips curl and twitch in your attempts to fight your own discomposure.
"Can give you 'nother," you practically huffed out. "Jus' fuck me, please. Wanna feel you."
He smiled down at you, pleased with himself, and before you could even think to roll your eyes at that smug expression, he began to shuffle out of his boxers, freeing his aching cock.
He brought it to rest right over your pussy as he settled between your legs.
His eyes said look, and you did, took in his thick length, the angry flush of his leaking head, the precum dripping onto your navel.
He wanted you to see just how deep he would go, wanted you to really take it in.
You felt yourself get wetter, feeling empty at just the sight— he reached just below your belly button.
"You ready?"
Slowly, he dragged his tip between your folds. You let out a small, choked sound, nodding as your hips involuntarily bucked up to chase more.
"Uh huh. Please, please."
Katsuki’s abs tensed as he finally positioned himself just right, pushing into your tight warmth with gritted teeth, biting back the moan threatening to slip past.
He took his sweet time, going inch by agonizing inch, all the while your chest heaved as he stretched you out, filled the emptiness that had you aching.
When he finally bottomed out, panting, you clenched around him, whimpering slightly.
He let out a guttural sound; something low, ragged, already wrecked.
"Don't…" he breathed, voice cracking slightly. "Don't fuckin' do that."
"Sorry…"
"Told you not to do that either."
With a shaky breath, he began to move. Careful rolls of his hips, a hand splayed over your stomach as he eased himself in deep.
You stuttered out his name as that same hand moved lower, stopping right where your bodies met, the pad of his thumb slowly rubbing your clit.
His eyes fluttered as he watched your head fall back against your pillow, panting as he eased into a languid rhythm, angling his hips with each thrust in search of that spot.
When he found it, you keened, toes curling, lips parting as you let out a moan.
"Katsuki…" you dragged out the end of his name, practically whining.
He only grunted, something like a strangled whimper managing to slip past his gritted teeth. "Yeah, I know, I fuckin' know…"
He continued to thrust slowly, pull all the way back out before pushing back in, intense scarlet eyes watching your face twist upon each intrusion.
You didn't notice his thumb had been brushing the plush of your lower lip before he tapped it.
"Open."
That was all he said. He knew he didn't need much for you to listen. You looked down at his hand, then back up, parting your lips on command, the pink of your tongue peaking out on instinct.
"There we go…" He murmured, slipping his index and middle finger into your waiting mouth slowly.
The weight of his thick digits settled over your tongue and you groaned, sucking gently.
"You like that?" He asked, watching your mouth work around his fingers softly, voice low.
He already knew you liked it, knew that it lulled you into a fuzzy, brainless haze. But he loved to see you nod back at him; that pliant, sweet look in your half-lidded eyes as you offered him soft 'mhm' around his fingers.
He fought the moan crawling up his throat, instead letting out a tight a chuckle.
"Yeah, I know you do."
When he pulled his fingers back, you whimpered, but didn't get to dwell on it for long.
He moved to cage you down, supporting himself by the forearms, groaning into your ear as he bucked his hips deeper into you, pace noticeably faster.
You threw your head back. It was so good, perfect even. But you still wanted to feel more of him.
"Closer…" You asked, a quiet whine behind your words. "Closer, please, baby. Need you closer, Katsuki…"
Katsuki loved missionary, you knew this. He loved that it meant he could get close, actually see you— watch as your face twisted from being filled by him.
But on nights when close wasn't close enough, he folded you in half, pressed himself impossibly deeper, brought you closer than you thought you could ever feel.
The second he realized what you were asking for, he pushed the backs of your thighs, pressed your knees up by your head.
You hooked your arms around his neck, he kissed the the hinge of your jaw, breathing desperate words against your neck.
“Fuck, I love you.”
You bit back a groan, feeling him trail sloppy kisses down to your collarbone.
“Y’know that, right?”
You were shaking, letting out breathy moans as he began to suck soft marks into your skin, lost in the feeling— the taste— of you.
Your hands slid to hold the back of his neck, pulling him back carefully. Your nose bumped his as you held his face, felt the sharp curve of his jaw in your palms.
You pulled a hand back to find one of his by your head, you laced your fingers with his, gave his hand a soft squeeze before softly pecking his lips.
"I love you," you murmured the words against his mouth before pulling him back feverishly, moaning into the kiss. "I love you so much."
He picked up his pace at those words, fucking into you desperately, "Can't believe you thought I didn't wanna do this shit…" He panted out.
"Always fuckin' want you, don't y'get it?" his voice was already deep. But now— rough from sleep and want— the rasp made you impossibly wetter.
The sound of your creaking bed and the soft slap of skin against skin faded into the background as he leaned down to kiss you, all messy and raw.
"Tell me you get it." the words heaved out of him, hot and breathy, his lidded eyes met yours, the blistering need behind them setting your skin ablaze.
"I get it," you managed, tugging him closer, holding him against your chest. "I get it, Katsuki, please—"
He groaned by your ear, "Fuck, I know. I got you…"
Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter. Everything that had weighed on your heart— the frustration, the doubt, the unsureness in yourself. it dissolved to nothingness in the back of your mind— because Katsuki Bakugou loved you. You loved him.
You could feel it all around you; he was everywhere, everything. And part of you felt that was all you might ever need.
With a broken sound, you came, burying into the crook of his neck.
He breathed with you for a moment, held you close, heated sweat-slicked skin against yours. He pulled out carefully, gritting his teeth to bite back a groan.
You were caught off guard when he hooked your thighs over his shoulders, leaned down to lap up your spend— his grip was a vice, absolutely not letting go of you— his fervent mouth moving against your sensitive heat to stimulate you past what you thought was bliss.
You nudged at his face half-heartedly, too tired to even whine; shallow, broken sobs heaved out of you as your thighs twitching around his head.
It was too much, you told him as much. At least, you tried to. You weren't sure if he could make anything out of your nonsensical babbling between whimpers, but you were certain he didn't really care.
When your hands found his hair, you twisted the blond tufts in your fists, letting out a final cry as he pushed you over the edge one last time.
He lifted his head back, lingering for a beat, careful eyes taking you in. Your eyes were shut, relishing the aftershock of your own high as your lungs raced to catch onto air, but more importantly: you were completely fucked out.
With a small kiss to your inner thigh, he got up.
"Where're you going…?” you managed between breaths, feeling his presence on your bed go missing, eyelids peeling back just enough to peek at him.
“Clean underwear. Water."
"Oh."
"Mhm."
You felt like you might pass out in the best way possible. Your eyes were so droopy, but you tried your best to keep them open.
You traced the line of Katsuki's back as he shuffled through your drawers. Something soft and warm branched out from behind your sternum, spread through your body.
Suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms. Feel his body curve against yours.
He uncapped a bottle of water from your dresser and held it out for you, watching intently as you sat up shakily and took careful sips.
You handed it back to him, wiping at your mouth as he moved back onto your bed, tugging on a clean pair of underwear over your legs.
"You shoulda kept goin' Katsuki…" You tried to sound harsh, scolding. But it came out softer than you wanted. "You didn't… y'know…"
He pulled the blanket over your body and his quietly, settling at your side. You watched as he laid his head to rest on his pillow, taking in the familiar lines of his face.
"Don't care." He flicked your forehead. "Think too much and I might have to fuck you to sleep again."
Your lower lip jutted at that, a small flush settling over your face.
Reaching an arm out, you drew him closer to you. Your heart swelled at the familiarity of his warmth, that longing in you satiated momentarily at the feeling.
Your hand found his jaw, thumb brushing over the unscarred side of his face. You always loved that scar on his right cheek, thought it made him look handsome.
A small smile touched your face as you leaned in to press your lips over it, even though his other cheek was much easier to kiss. You liked to do that whenever you got the chance.
"Hey, Katsuki?" You hummed, brushing some of his hair back.
"What?"
Fondness curled inside your chest at his voice; it came quick because it was soft. Because he had softened himself, for you.
"Thank you."
He blinked back at you before, "Tch." then leaning forward to peck your lips.
"Told you to stop doin' that."
You could only chuckle, letting his large hand find the back of your head, pull you down to cradle you against the warm, solid planes of his chest.
"Sleep."
You yawned, smiling as you pressed your cheek closer against his skin.
"I'll make it up in the morning, 'kay?" You mumbled, the thrum of his heart easing your limbs, his strong arms curled around you tighter. "Promise."
Katsuki snorted softly, running a hand up and down your back, careful and soothing as he tucked you under his chin, adjusting the blanket around you to make sure you were properly warm.
"'M sure you will."
masterlist ★ taglist form ★ want to request?
may blabs: hellooo guys
second smut we up 😈 im still learning how to write ts so this was kiiinda stressful… (overthought a Lot) … but it ok we made it 🥹
im not even a petname bkg truther really so idk why i wrote that in but i did. playing with him like he’s my doll lalala
love me some acts of service solution oriented katsuki who’s soft in his own way ^_^ and i like emotions so this was quite fun to write! soft intimate smut… sighs dreamily
bkg not getting to nut lowk a recurring pattern now tho im dead 😭 (will he ever get to bust? stay tuned)
(btw title is from the marías song !!! #peak)
★ IMPORTANT — the amazing art in the header is not mine! unfortunately, i was not able to find the artist to give adequate credit, so this is my disclaimer !! all i did was edit the coloring.
Bakugo sincerely believes his mother loves you more than she loves him. The way she dotes on you, softens around you, and asks about you every time he visits alone is proof enough in his eyes. He never complains though, secretly, he likes how close the two of you are, even if he’d never admit it.
The day after you said 'yes' to his proposal, he decided to tell his parents. He drove to their house with you in the passenger seat, barely able to contain your happiness, while his handsome face held that familiar scowl meant to disguise his own excitement.
His mom and dad welcomed you warmly, just as they always did, ushering you inside while asking how you’d been.
And soon…
_ "WHAT? You actually proposed?! So you two are getting married?" Mitsuki blurted out excitedly, clasping her hands together as she looked between you and him.
_ "Why’re you yelling, old hag?!” Katsuki snapped back a little more furiously than necessary, his cheeks turning red. “Yeah, I did. What’s it to you?!"
_ "Because you’re an idiot, and I’m shocked someone put up with your attitude long enough to say yes!"
_ "Don’t call me that, damn it!"
_ "I’ll call you whatever I want, you brat! And you’d better treat her right, or I swear I’ll kick your ass!"
_ "Like hell I wouldn’t! I’ll treat her like a damn princess!"
_ "Good! That’s what I like to hear! And I want grandkids before I hit fifty!"
_ "That’s not up to you, hag!"
They went at it for several minutes, loud arguments mixed with even louder congratulations, while you and Masaru sat there quietly, smiling at your loved ones.
_ "They'll calm down soon," Masaru whispered to you, a gentle smile on his face, "would you like something to drink while we wait?"
You nodded your head, giggling softly. "That would be great, thank you."
꒰ synopsis ꒱ ✶ katsuki always wondered what the hell his father saw in his old hag of a mother. it takes twenty years, a nasty fight with you, a near-death experience, and a trip to the hospital before he finally gets it
── ✶ word count: 5.8k words ; my drabbles always do this bro
── ✶ before you read: female reader ; pro hero bakugou ; established relationship ; arguing ; (temporary) relationship troubles ; injuries + villain attacks + hospitals (bakugou) ; tame angst with a happy ending! ; communication + resolving arguments ; bakugou’s father makes an appearance ; fluff and banter at the end ; masterlist.
꒰ commentary ꒱ ✶ at the end of the day i will never not be a sucker for the trope where u argue just before a major life threatening incident occurs
It’s 9:32 PM when Katsuki begrudgingly leaves his patrol area and finally calls it quits for the night.
Patrol was supposed to end an hour and thirty-two minutes ago, but he’s been dragging his feet ever since. Taking the long route. Responding to calls that technically aren’t under his jurisdiction. Circling blocks he’s already cleared twice. Anything to kill time. It’s only when Kirishima actively tells him to get the fuck out and stop interfering with his villain count for the night that Katsuki finally accepts defeat and ends his workday.
Ending his workday means going home. And if he goes home, you’ll be there. And if you’re there, he’ll be reminded of your nasty argument from the other night. And if he thinks about that argument, he’ll have to face the fact that the two of you are still stubbornly refusing to speak to one another until the other apologizes first. It’s a ridiculous standoff—an unnecessary one, and he knows it. But neither of you seems particularly interested in ending it, and now his own apartment has somehow become the last place he wants to be. Every room feels charged with an uncomfortable tension. The living room is awkward. The kitchen is unbearable. Even lying down beside you at night feels weird, so Katsuki would rather avoid the whole thing if he can help it.
If he gets home late enough, you’ll already be asleep. Then he can shower, crawl into bed, and pretend the situation doesn’t exist for a few more hours. It seemed like a solid plan in his mind, but unfortunately, thanks to fucking Shitty-Hair, he has no choice but to head home and hang up his costume.
And judging by the lights still glowing through the windows of his apartment, his luck has officially run out. You’re still awake. Of course.
He trudges in, and there you are—sitting stiffly on the couch in the living room, staring directly at him with your arms crossed and an infuriated glare on your face as you fix him with narrowed eyes. Great.
“Do you have any fucking clue what time it is?” you hiss without missing a beat.
Katsuki should’ve known you’d start nagging the second he walked through the door. Hell, he should’ve turned around and just left the moment he saw the lights on instead of coming in.
“S’not even ten,” he grumbles, kicking his boots off. “Would you fuckin’ drop it—”
“You were supposed to be home almost two hours ago!” Your voice rings through the apartment, sharp and incredulous, and Katsuki is so tired. So exhausted. Too exhausted to deal with this nonsense right now, of all times.
“Yeah, well. Now I’m home. There you go.”
The dismissal only seems to make you angrier. Katsuki practically watches the steam start pouring from your ears as you shoot to your feet, hands planting firmly on your hips. And he just knows your voice is about to get louder.
“That’s it?” you practically screech. He fucking knew it. “You’re out on patrol for an extra two hours, and I hear nothing from you—not even a text saying, I’ll be home late. I’ve been sitting here like an idiot, wondering what the fuck happened, or if you’re okay, and all you can say is now you’re home? Do you just get off on being an asshole or something, Katsuki?”
His shoulders tense immediately as he fixes you with an equally hard glare. There goes his wish for a peaceful, conflict-avoidant night. Of course, as always, you have to drag the conflict right to him and drop it at his feet, spike his temper, and make it ruin his evening. A simple shower and a good night’s sleep was all he wanted. But things are never quite that easy—not with you.
Katsuki feels a dull throb start behind his eyes as he shoots back, “What, was your phone broken or some shit? What exactly held you at gunpoint and stopped you from sendin’ me a text and asking, huh?”
Your jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
“I’m not laughin’, am I? Definitely no jokes here.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you scowl, and he snorts. There’s no humor behind the sound, however.
“Yeah, that’s real mature.”
“Oh no—you don’t get to tell me about what’s mature and what isn’t. Cause if you wanna talk about what’s mature, it’s not disappearing for two hours and acting like I’m insane for being worried!”
“I wasn’t disappearing, I was fuckin’ doing my job.”
“You were supposed to be done with that job hours ago!”
“Well, I wasn’t!”
“You have a smart little answer for everything, don’t you, Katsuki?” you smile sarcastically, “just think you’re so smart and above it all, huh?”
Katsuki doesn’t know if it’s the headache that’s been creeping on him, or the rage, or the pure adrenaline in his system, but he does know that for a short, fleeting second, all he saw was red.
“Holy fuck, do you ever listen to yourself?”
Your expression hardens instantly. “No, I think you should listen to yourself. You might hear an idiot if you do.”
The apartment goes quiet. Dangerously quiet.
“You know what?” he says coldly, “forget this. I’m goin’ the fuck to sleep—I’ve dealt with enough bullshit tonight—”
You throw your hands in the air, exasperated. There is a flash of hurt on your face that makes his chest ache, but the sharp stab of pain doesn’t last for long because as quickly as his heart bleeds, his mind makes him forget. It only lets him focus on the anger and the irritation and the way you’ve ruined his night, just like you ruined the one before.
“Every single time I tell you something bothers me, you act like it’s a personal attack, and then you just dismiss me like I don’t matter—”
“Maybe I wouldn’t dismiss shit if every conversation with you didn’t turn into a fuckin’ laundry list of grievances you got with me!”
“You only take everything I say as a complaint because you refuse to communicate!”
“Because not everything needs to be a damn discussion like we’re in therapy!”
“Right,” you laugh bitterly. “Silly me. God forbid I expect basic consideration from you.”
Something ugly flashes across his face. He knows it. Katsuki knows that when he’s mad, he turns ugly—he’s always been that way. It’s the only way he knows how to be. For the longest time, he thought you were the only person he could hide it from. That you were the only person he could fight the urge to get ugly from because you are just that special.
But Katsuki is who he is, and he’s learned that he’s a special kind of ugly just for you.
“Basic consideration?” he barks. “You’re sayin’ I’m not considerate?”
“No, sometimes you fucking aren’t and—”
“Oh, that’s fuckin’ rich! I break my back every day keeping this city safe—”
“Well, if the city is the only thing you can be considerate for, why the fuck are you even here?”
It’s silent as soon as the words leave your mouth. Katsuki goes completely still. He can feel it the second it happens—the way his expression shuts down. The way the anger drains out of his face and leaves behind something colder. Something worse. Something so ugly, he has to get out of here before you see it and realize he isn’t worth it. Isn’t worth you.
“Yeah,” His voice is flat. “Why am I here, right? You know, you can just tell me to leave next time, it’d be a lot fuckin’ easier for you.”
“Katsuki—”
“No.” He grabs the strap of his duffel bag that carries his guantlets from where he’d dropped it by the door, throwing it over his shoulder as he bends down to lace his boots up again.
“Katsuki, that’s not what I meant.”
“Sure.”
“I was angry—”
“Clearly, you’re always fuckin’ angry at me. I’m always doin’ something the fuck wrong, aren’t I? Nothin’ I do is enough?”
Stop, stop, stop. His mind is screaming, begging him not to do this. To get out. To leave and fight that hideous part of him down until he’s far enough that you never, ever have to see it.
“Katsuki, don’t do this right now—”
“Do what?” His voice rises more than it should. Stop—stop now. But he can’t. The ugliest of him is already taking surface and showing his truest of colors. “What exactly am I supposed to say here, huh?” You flinch. He needs to fucking stop, but he doesn’t. “Because apparently, when I stay late to save people, I’m an asshole. When I’m home, I’m an asshole. I breathe, I’m an asshole. I exist, I’m an asshole.”
“That’s not—”
“So what’s the answer?” His laugh is bitter and so, so cold that he doesn’t recognize this version of himself. Not with you. He wants to stop desperately, but he can’t. Because Katsuki is an ugly, hideous, despicable person deep down. No amount of heroism on the surface can hide that part of him that’s on the inside, not from you. “Since you’ve got everything figured out, you tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do.”
“Katsuki, let’s just sit down and—”
He shakes his head. For a second, he wants it to hurt. He wants it to hurt for you. Stop, stop, stop— “Y’know what? I’m done.”
His hand closes around the doorknob, and your voice comes out shaky and panicked as you whisper, “Katsuki, please just sit down and—”
“I’m not fuckin’ doin’ this shit anymore.”
Then he yanks the door open and walks right back out, slamming it hard enough behind him to rattle the picture frames on the wall.
────────────────────────
Katsuki is six when he first asks his father what the fuck the old man even sees in the hag that is his mother. He remembers the conversation vividly.
“Dad, why did you marry Mom? She’s grumpy and old, and she yells all the time,” little Katsuki asks, crossing his tiny arms over his chest. “Why d’you even like her?”
Masaru nearly chokes on his tea. “Katsuki,” he coughs. “Your mother isn’t old. You shouldn’t say that—it’s rude.”
“But she is,” he huffs. “She smells like an old lady, too.”
“Well, if she’s old, then I’m even older,” Masaru points out, taking another sip. “So that can’t be a very good reason not to like her.”
“Well, she’s mean.”
“She’s not mean,” his father chuckles, thoroughly amused.
No matter how many times he sees it, Katsuki doesn’t understand it—the way his father gets that dumb, starry-eyed look whenever Mitsuki comes up. She’s always in a bad mood, and if she isn’t, she’s probably due for one within the next thirty minutes. Why his father would choose to marry such a sour lady is completely beyond his six-year-old comprehension.
“She yelled at me this morning,” he sulks.
“You tried to use your explosions inside the house,” Masaru reminds him, leveling him with a pointed look. “We talked about that. Rules are rules for a reason, young man.”
Katsuki pouts harder. His father is supposed to take his side.
“But she still yelled. And it was mean,” he argues back stubbornly. Masaru only smiles into his tea, shaking his head with fond amusement. For a moment, neither of them speaks. Then Katsuki presses again, “So what do you even like about her?”
The question seems to catch Masaru off guard. He pauses, thinking. “Well,” he says slowly, “she’s funny.”
Katsuki blinks. His father cannot possibly be serious. “Mom?”
“Yes.”
“She’s funny?”
“Very.”
“No, she isn’t,” Katsuki says immediately, deeply offended by the blatant lie.
Masaru laughs, “She is.” Katsuki stares at him like he’s completely lost his mind. Masaru only smiles wider. “She’s honest, too. You always know what she’s thinking.”
“That’s because she says whatever she thinks.”
“Exactly.”
“And she says it loud.”
“That’s true.”
“She says it really loud, Dad.”
Masaru nods solemnly, sighing. “Also very true, son.”
“She should shut up,” Katsuki huffs. His father fixes him with a stern look at that, and he shrinks back just a little.
“We do not say that about our mother, Katsuki.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes but slumps deeper into his chair all the same. “Fine.”
“Your mother is wonderful,” his father says. “She works hard. She cares about people. She loves our family—she loves us. One day, you’ll see that. And when you do, I think you’ll appreciate her a lot more.”
Katsuki picks at the food on his plate, turning the words over in his head.
His mother does love him—he knows that much, even if she is annoying. She remembers all the snacks he likes and somehow always comes home with them without him ever having to ask. Whenever he asks for money, she gives him more than he requested—even if it usually costs him an irritatingly painful pinch to the cheek. She wakes up early to bathe him despite complaining about losing sleep because he prefers morning baths to evening ones.
His mother loves him; he knows that to be true. But it’s only true because she is his mother, and he is her son. Mothers love their sons—it’s the rules. Why his father would willingly choose to love that woman remains completely incomprehensible, however, in his mind.
“Mom is super annoying,” he says bluntly.
Masaru’s smile softens. “I suppose sometimes she can be, yes.”
“See?” Katsuki perks up immediately, his entire face screaming, gotcha!
“But,” Masaru continues, “I’m sure I annoy her, too.”
Katsuki deflates on the spot.
More than that, he simply cannot imagine such a thing being possible. His father is calm and nice and makes good food. Katsuki thinks lots of women would like his father—women who also would not find Masaru annoying. The only person allowed to find Masaru annoying is Katsuki himself, and that’s because his father makes rules that Katsuki has to follow. He thinks he’s earned that right.
His mother, however, has no such excuse.
“She gets annoyed with you?” he asks incredulously.
“Of course. Every day, I’m sure there’s something I do that annoys her at least a little.”
“Then why does she like you?”
Masaru thinks for a moment, carefully choosing his words, trying to explain this odd phenomenon that is love. “Because loving someone isn’t about finding a person who never annoys you,” he says finally. “It’s about finding someone who still sees your value even when you’re annoying. Someone who chooses you anyway. Does that make sense?”
His nose wrinkles immediately. “No.” His father stifles a chuckle when Katsuki adds, “That sounds dumb.”
“Maybe,” Masaru hums, eyeing him with bright, endeared eyes.
“I’m not gonna marry someone annoying when I’m all big. Because I’m smart!”
That earns him a full laugh from his father. It’s the kind of laugh that makes Masaru lean forward and wipe at the corner of his eye. In fact, he laughs so hard he nearly spills his tea. “You say that now,” his father says, setting his mug down, “but that’ll change. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“No, I won’t,” Katsuki grumbles. He doesn’t appreciate that he’s not being taken seriously.
“I think you will, son.”
“I definitely won’t.”
Masaru only smiles. He looks at Katsuki the way adults always do when they think he’s young and silly and doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And Katsuki hates that look. He’s smart—excellent, even. Just the other day, he caught his teacher’s mistake during subtraction when nobody else in his class noticed. At this rate, he’s well on his way to being smarter than most adults.
He absolutely knows what he’s talking about.
“Well, we’ll just have to see, Katsuki. If I’m right, you’ll take me out for ramen someday. Deal?”
“Fine,” Katsuki huffs, puffing out his chest confidently. “But you’ll never see that ramen.”
────────────────────────
Twenty years later, Katsuki sometimes wonders if he’s going to have to admit he was wrong and take the old man out for ramen after all.
You are, without question, the most annoying, irritating, vein-popping individual he has ever met. It’s like every decision you make is carefully calculated to inconvenience him specifically.
He has to keep an extra jacket in his car because you never check the weather before leaving the house. He has to double-check your grocery lists before you go shopping because if he doesn’t, you’ll somehow forget the one thing you actually need. He has to make sure you take your vitamins. Every night, he has to remind you to take your makeup off before bed because, apparently, that responsibility has become his problem—and if you wake up the next morning with mascara smeared under your eyes because you didn’t listen to him, then somehow you still find a way to blame him for not wiping it for you.
You are annoying. Every single fucking day, you annoy him. You annoyed him yesterday. You’ve annoyed him today. You’ll annoy him tomorrow. And he’ll tell you exactly that—he’ll call you a dumbass, and tell you to get your life together. Complain about the ridiculous thing you did this time, and accuse you of going out of your way to make his life harder on purpose. But after that, despite it all, he will still love you.
Twenty years later, now that he’s older, Katsuki realizes he understands what his father meant. That loving someone doesn’t happen because they never annoyed him—loving someone happens because they annoyed him, and he still, despite that, sees nothing but the good.
He loves you. You are annoying and drive him up a wall, but Katsuki knows that you are good. The greatest good that there might ever be, and he might have just ruined it. He probably fucked it all up and lost all the good he had. All the good he’s ever wanted. All the good that he’s wanted to keep for the rest of his life and cherish.
The second the apartment door slams shut behind him, Katsuki regrets it. He regrets being the reason behind that look on your face. That brief flash of panic in your eyes right before he left. That way that your voice sounded when you said his name.
He can’t get it out of his head as he walks out of your building. “Fuck,” He runs a hand through his hair and keeps walking.
The only friends he’d willingly see right now are working, his parents are definitely sleeping (and would ask too many questions he doesn’t want to answer, even if they weren’t), and he is nowhere near calm enough to go back upstairs and just go home.
But his patrol route is still active. So instead of going home and into bed like a normal person who has morning patrol, Katsuki leaves his apartment building behind and heads toward work.
By the time he gets suited up again, it’s almost eleven. By the time it’s midnight, he’s still out. By the time it’s 1 AM, he should call it a night.
Instead, however, he keeps moving. One more block turns into one more street. Anything to keep himself from going home or thinking about the argument. About the way you looked at him. About the things he said. About the shit he ruined for sure.
His thoughts are loud enough in his head, turning him deaf to everything else. He misses things he normally wouldn’t—things like suspicious shadows and warning shouts from another hero.
By the time Katsuki realizes what’s happening for what it is, the villain goes down easily enough—too easily. He curses himself for being so naive, so rash. He’s been fighting as a pro for years. He was a war veteran before he was even a legal adult, for crying out loud. Still, despite all that, the second Katsuki realizes something is wrong, it’s already too late.
The construction site groans around him—metal screeches against metal, and his head snaps upward. All he sees is the upper half of the structure collapsing before he loses his balance and collapses with it.
“Shit—”
The explosion leaves his palms a fraction of a second too late, and he doesn’t go propelling forward the way he’s supposed to. The half-built building comes down, and Katsuki goes down with it.
Then everything goes dark.
────────────────────────
It’s 2 AM when you see it on the news. Kirishima sends you a text asking if you’d heard what happened, and by the time you’ve spammed him with messages asking what the hell he was even talking about, he’s gone silent. Something in your gut knows that he’s not answering because he’s too busy rescuing. Too busy being a hero.
Your heart tells you that the person he has to be a hero to tonight just so happens to be Katsuki.
The first report you see hits the news at 2:13 AM. The anchor’s voice is as smooth and polished as ever as she delivers the words that send your whole world crumbling around you.
“We are receiving breaking reports of a major incident involving Pro Hero Dynamight.”
The footage that floods the screen makes you fall to your knees and muffle your sobs behind a shaky palm—collapsed concrete and emergency responders and heroes rushing in and out of the wreckage. The camera zooms toward the ruined construction site, and Katsuki’s body is nowhere to be seen on the screen. You don’t quite know if that’s a good thing or bad.
“Dynamight was reportedly responding to a villain incident when a structural collapse occurred. We are told he is trapped beneath the rubble. Emergency responders are currently on the scene, conducting rescue operations.”
At 2:37 AM, the hospital gives you a call as his emergency contact. You’re sick to your stomach, not sure how you’ll make the drive there when Kirishima finally texts you again.
Kiri <3: I already told his parents. They’re on their way so don’t worry about it
Kiri <3: One of my sidekicks is outside your apartment. They’ll drive you down there
Kiri <3: I still have to handle the aftermath and finish patrol so I won’t be there I’m sorry
Kiri <3: Keep me updated?
You: Don’t apologize Kiri idk what I’d do without u
You: Thank you and pls be safe
You: I’ll lyk things as soon as I find out
Kiri <3: Take it easy okay?
Kiri <3: He’s come back from worse. It’ll be alright
——
Kirishima’s sidekick gets you to the hospital efficiently, but you are still at your wits’ end by the time you can rush out of the passenger seat and bolt through the sliding doors.
Some part of you is grateful you didn’t have to drive here yourself because you know you would’ve sped dangerously over the limit, missed half the red lights, and probably would’ve gotten yourself pulled over. At the same time, you wish you could’ve been the one behind the wheel, just to get here faster.
“I’m here to see Kats—um, Dynamight,” you say in a rush. “Dynamight…I meant Dynamight.”
The woman at the front desk looks at you with a raised eyebrow, already typing away at her screen as she blandly says, “Valid ID, please.”
You curse under your breath, fumbling through your purse for your wallet, and then fumbling through your wallet for your ID like your hands suddenly don’t belong to your body anymore.
When you practically shove it toward her in your haste, she takes it too calmly for your racing heart and inspects it for a moment. Then looks at her screen. Then back to your ID. Then she types for what feels like an agonizing eternity before she finally hands the card back and says, “Fourth floor, room twelve. He’s stable, but he has some serious injuries that they’ll have to monitor and heal slowly due to his stamina—”
You’re already moving before she finishes. You’re bolting toward the elevators, heart slamming so hard it hurts. The ride up to the fourth floor is torturously slow. When you finally get out of the elevator, you’re halfway down the hallway before you even register the security guard stepping in front of you.
“ID.” Again. Of course. You suppose it is a good thing security is tight for the pro hero unit—even if it does add to your piling weight of anxiety. When you clumsily pull it yet again, he checks it for another cruelly long stretch of time, glancing between the card and the device in his hands before finally saying, “Go ahead.”
You’re already moving.
By the time you reach room twelve, your hands are shaking so badly you can barely hold yourself still. For a moment, you just stand there, frozen. Would Katsuki even want to see you? Is he fed up with you? Would you just make his already terrible night even worse?
You aren’t sure.
You don’t know why you’re in the predicament you’re in right now. You don’t know how you got here or why things escalated the way that they did. You don’t know what you do wrong to push his buttons the way you seem to, to upset him the way that he gets. You think you’re doing the right thing—that you’re doing what’s right for both of you—but somehow, you always seem to mess it up. Always seem to say the wrong thing. Always seem to ruin whatever good the two of you have managed to build between you.
But you love Katsuki, and if nothing else, you know that he loves you too, and you need to see him. So you force down the bile in your throat and push the door open. The first thing you notice when you see him is the bandages wrapped tightly around him. One arm heavily secured in a cast. Gauze lining his shoulder and collarbone that makes your stomach drop in a sick, immediate lurch. Machines hum quietly beside him, keeping track of his vitals.
You never see Katsuki hurt like this—he’s always been practically invincible when he’s on the field, always taking things down before they have a chance at even touching him. And then your brain, cruelly, supplies the thought: but he is not invincible. Not always.
“Katsuki,” you whisper, eyes already welling with tears.
He’s looking at you the second the door opens—but his tired eyes soften with relief, just a little, when they land on you. “You came,” he says, voice rough.
“Of course I came,” you say, sharper than you mean to. How could he think you wouldn’t? How far have you let things go that he could genuinely believe you wouldn’t show up for him? “What the hell happened?”
He sighs, almost embarrassed. “Just…work ‘n shit.”
You sniffle, and he lifts his good arm toward you. That’s all it takes.
You’re at his side in an instant, squeezing into the small space beside him on the hospital bed and curling yourself against his chest. You’re careful not to disturb any of the machines surrounding him, but you can’t stop thinking about how wrong this feels. How you shouldn’t be the one being comforted right now. How he’s the one lying in a hospital bed, yet somehow he’s still the one rubbing your back and soothing your tears.
“I thought you were gonna die,” you sob. “I—I saw the rubble, and Kiri stopped texting back and...and I thought you got crushed.”
“M’not fuckin’ dying, babe,” he huffs, sounding mildly offended. “A stupid building isn’t killin’ me. That’s a dumbass way to go.”
“You don’t know that,” you shake your head. “You can’t promise that.”
“Listen—”
“And I was sitting there watching the news and thinking the last conversation I ever had with you was that stupid fight,” you continue, looking up at him with trembling lips.
His eyes soften. “I know, but—”
“And I don’t care about the argument anymore,” you say, your voice shaking harder now. “I don’t care about being right or winning or being apologized to first—I should’ve texted you, you’re right. You...you probably felt like I didn’t care, but I do. I care so much, and I love you more than anything.”
You take a breath that does absolutely nothing to steady you. Katsuki is trying to wipe your tears away with one weak arm.
“I love you too—”
“I just want you to talk to me,” you sob. “I know I’m annoying, and I nag and scold and get onto you all the time, and I’m trying not to do that as much—really, I am! But I just...I wish you’d tell me things, too. Y’know? I am the one person you’re supposed to do that with, Katsuki,” you add, your voice cracking all over again. “But sometimes, it feels like I’m the last person you want to do that with.”
His expression tightens. “That’s not—”
“And I want us to work because I’ve never liked someone so much—it stresses me out. Because I love you and I want this to work, and the thought of it not working makes me so anxious I wanna throw up, and...and you act like talking to me is harder than getting crushed under a fucking building—”
“Baby.” He squeezes your cheeks together and silences you as he pulls your face closer, pressing a kiss to your puckered lips. “You talk a lot, y’know that?”
You huff at him immediately, tears spilling down your cheeks even faster. “That is so rude, given the—”
“I’m sorry about the fight,” he interrupts. You pause, and he takes the opportunity to keep going, despite looking painfully uncomfortable the entire time. “And for...walkin’ out ‘n shit. That was fucked up. I don’t talk to you like I should. You’re right. S’weird for me, and I hate it sometimes. I don’t know how to just...say shit like you do. Okay?” He sighs. “But m’gonna try more because you’re right—I need to talk to you. But you gotta get outta your head so much—” He gives your forehead a small jab with his finger. You sniffle and swat his hand away with a watery scowl. It earns the faintest grin from him. “We’re gonna work,” he says. “’Cause we do. That’s all there is to it, okay?”
“But—”
“No buts,” he grumbles. “My ribs hurt. Jus’ let me be right.”
A watery laugh escapes you as you shake your head, cupping his bandaged face between your hands. “You’re really annoying sometimes, Katsuki.”
“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes. “So are you. Still love you, though.”
“Me too,” you breathe, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “Love you so much.”
He pulls you back down against his chest again, rubbing your back as you listen to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. You trace small patterns into his shirt. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. And things are okay—they are not beyond repairing. You’ll inevitably annoy him tomorrow, and he’ll annoy you the day after that, but you’ll still work. You will still find a way to keep things good the way they always are.
After a few quiet moments, he mumbles, “Hey.” When you look up, he says, “When m’all healed and shit, you gotta force me to go grab ramen with my old man. On me.”
────────────────────────
Katsuki waits almost a month after being discharged from the hospital before he finally makes the call. He’s been trying to stall it for as long as possible, but Katsuki, even at the tender age of six, has always been a man (or boy) of his word. He’s standing alone on the balcony outside his apartment with his phone pressed to his ear, wondering if it’s too late to hang up before the call goes through.
It rings twice. Then his father’s voice is as gentle and cheery as ever. “Katsuki!” Masaru answers immediately. “Hi, son!”
“Yeah, yeah. Hey.”
His father laughs. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I got discharged, didn’t I? S’been a whole month.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re sounding just like your usual self,” his father says. Katsuki can hear the smile in his voice. “What’s up?”
“Nothin’.”
“Katsuki, you never call for just nothing.”
He groans, rubbing a hand over his face with a sigh—it’s now or never. He can’t keep stalling, and Katsuki is, and always has been, a man of his word. If he promised his father ramen over a stupid bet he made twenty years ago, then he’s going to get his father that ramen. Even if it kills his pride. Demolishes it, even.
“Listen, I was thinkin’...maybe we could grab food sometime.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Masaru hums. “Let me ask your mother when she’s free and—”
“Not the hag. S’just you,” he cuts in, rubbing at his temple.
“Oh?” Masaru sounds amused. “Well, okay. I suppose it’d be nice to spend some time as just father and son. What kind of food?”
Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose. Just say it. Just fuckin’ say it, his mind urges. Just rip the bandage off and say it. Say it. Say the damn word—he grits his teeth and forces out, “Ramen.”
There’s a pause on the other end. The silence stretches on long enough that Katsuki’s eye twitches.
“Ramen, huh?” Masaru finally says, and the way he says it makes a vein all but pop in Katsuki's forehead.
“Old man,” he says warningly, “don’t push it—”
He’s cut off when Masaru starts laughing. “I was wondering when this day would come.”
“Hah? You really kept that shit in your head for twenty years?”
“Of course I did. It was one of my favorite conversations I’ve ever had with you.”
“Why? ‘Cause you love bein’ fuckin’ right all the time?” Katsuki grumbles.
His father’s voice softens as he says fondly, “No. I just wanted you to find someone who made you as happy as your mother makes me. That’s all I wanted, son—for you to understand what being happy is like.”
The conversation is getting oddly sentimental, taking a turn that makes his chest feel strange, and his heart feel far too fragile. He hasn’t felt like this since after the war, and he doesn’t intend to sit with it any longer. So he mutters, “I still think Mom’s annoying. She yelled at me last week, so she never fuckin’ changes.”
Masaru laughs again. “No, she doesn’t.” Then, after a moment, “So, how does Saturday sound for some ramen?”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“Will my son be paying?”
Katsuki regrets this call more than anything when he says, “Yes. I’m fuckin’ paying.”
“You know, son,” Masaru murmurs, making Katsuki pause, “I’m glad you get it now. You’ve grown into a fine man.”
Katsuki swallows hard. He turns, eyeing you as you sleep soundly in your shared bed, hugging his pillow to make up for his absence. He can only hope that his father’s words are true—that he is a fine man to you, the way his father always has been to his mother. His eyes never leave your figure as he mutters, “Yeah, well…s’not like I had a bad example or somethin’.”
so anyway i had an argument with my bf the other day but he did not get into an accident and he did not get injured so dont worry. the argument was technically my fault, but im cute and he loves me so its okay <3
summary: your daughter has her dad bakugou all figured out! | just super fluffy and domestic.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
“papa, i know your secret!” announces your daughter to a very tired bakugou.
he tilts his head, trying to shake off the restlessness from patrol today.
“oh yeah, and what are my ‘secrets’ exactly princess?”
“you,” she says, booping his nose.
“have a crush on mama!” she finishes off, jumping up and down around him in excitement like she’s got her dad all figured out.
he stares at her for a second, then shakes his head and tries to fight the smile forming on his lips. he stabilises your daughter’s movements with his firm hands.
“you got me all figured out princess, you’re so smart,” he tells her, giving her all the positive affirmations so she grows confident like him.
“but don’t tell mama, okay?”
she gives him her pinky finger and nods seriously. bakugou instantly locks his pinky with hers, solidifying their pinky promise.
“i understand why you have a crush on her… even uncle deku broccoli hair blushes at mama!” states your daughter with the brightest smile, oblivious she’s triggered her father’s jealousy.
“broccoli hair? you’re just like your dad… giving everyone nicknames, and about this uncle deku blushing… how does he act around mama?”
“he just smiles and gasps every time she’s near…”
“right, right,” replies bakugou, playing around with your daughter while she hands him a toy tea cup to drink.
just then, you enter the room after your long relaxing shower. one look at you and bakugou has unintentionally fixed his posture and his hair.
your daughter comes closer to his ear, “papa, you’re being obvious, mama shouldn’t know…”
“what shouldn’t mama know?” you ask, offended at the fact that father and daughter are in on something.
“mama, you can’t tell anyone this, but papa has a crush on you!”
bakugou bursts out laughing and his contagious laugh makes you as well. you walk up to the two of them and their tea party, sitting on bakugou’s lap.
“thanks for telling me sweetheart, let’s hope papa never finds out i know!”
just then, your daughter giggles too and makes herself comfortable on your lap as well. bakugou hugs you two with both of his strong arms as you all enjoy every bit of this family bonding.
cw: men who yearn, physical affection, kissing, soft bakugo, muscles described, kissing, swearing, & not proofread
ⓘ Featuring Bakugo initiating affection doesn't happen often, so when it does, you should keep it going.
Waiting up for Katsuki is kind of like playing around with a claw machine. You never really know what you're going to get.
It could be a prize you'll cherish forever. Like a kiss, an invite to shower together, a moment of weakness, or the rarest of all. When he falls into bed next to you and sleeps it off on your chest.
But it also has the possibility of getting nothing but a tired grunt while downing a bottle of water or just falling into bed without a word.
But no matter what he does, it's always worth it. He'll never push you away if you initiate affection, letting you rake your fingers through his hair & sleepily attaching.
"Honey?" You rasped, glancing over your shoulder at the feeling of Katsuki pressing his chest flat against your back. "What are you doing?"
He got home later than normal, looked unkempt & told you to go ahead and go to sleep while he showered.
"Nothing," Kats mumbled, eyes visibly tired, as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. hauling you close enough to tuck his face into the crook of your neck and press a soft kiss there.
"Baby. I'm trying to sleep." You mused, bringing up a hand to lightly tug at his blond strands.
"Hey. Shut up. I'm trying to get comfortable." He hissed, nipping at your cheek as he rubbed your stomach slowly. "Didn't mean to wake you. Just wanted to hold ya' tonight."
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you rolled over to press your chest firmly against his bare chest. "Hadn't fallen asleep yet; don't worry."
You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before tenderly tracing the scar there, watching in delight as the blush spread across Katsuki's cheeks.
"You're such a nerd sometimes." He huffed, grasping your hips & rubbing the soft skin slowly. "Not fair, I'm tired, no. Sleep-deprived."
"Long night?" You whispered, quickly pulling the blanket over his bare back, your fingertips lingering on his toned biceps before dragging up to tangle in his damp blond hair.
He always had this look in his eye after an annoyingly long night patrol, but tonight it just looked somber.
"You could say that, yeah." He admitted, leaning into your touch just a little, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "It's been a long, long night, honestly."
"Do you want to talk about it?" You whispered, trying to soothe him, sliding your hands to rest comfortably on his chest. "I don't mind staying up longer."
"No. No, not tonight." He shook his head before tucking you under his chin, moving to rub your shoulder gently. "I just want to hold you right now, if that's alright?"
It was your turn to blush, letting out a quick gasp at his warm chest pressing against your face before nodding quickly. "That's fine, baby; we can just sleep too."
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : rewrote my favorite Bakugo fic to celebrate 12k. original.
bakugou katsuki who genuinely truly gets pussy drunk when he eats you out.
he’s down there, eyes half lidded, tongue lazily lolling against you. hard to tell what’s slick and what’s spit. his hands on your thighs forcing them apart further as his tongue slides in even deeper. he’s practically moaning into you.
“ffuck kats- it’s too much!” you whine as he pumps a finger into you, sucking harshly on your clit.
“i can’t baby, y’just taste so damn good. can’t get ‘nough of ya..” as he removes his finger and goes back to slurping you up. breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert. he wants you for all of them.
and he’s so embarrassed by this but he always humps into the bed and literally cums into his pants every damn time. you always poke fun at him for messing up the bed and shit but then he just drags you onto the floor or couch and the whole thing repeats and he’s asking if this spot is better but your legs are shaking too hard to even form a thought.
but yeah katsuki would die a happy man between your legs. the only thing on earth he’d let defeat him.
