18+ bf!katsuki bakugo wants to be you personal 'handy man'
"this what you did all day, hm?"
you whine - eyes rolling into the deepest part of your skull, as two of his slender fingers trace the precise arch etched into your spine. he buries his hands into the plush of your hips, dragging your body implausibly closer to his crazed, animalistic thrusts.
"workin'? bein' all self-reliant and shit? — oh, fuuuck" his hips brutally stuttered against the bare, jiggly flesh of your ass as the doughy, gummy texture of your walls, quivered all around him. "assembling shit that I should've built for you?" he snarls, sending his open palm straight into the smooth, pristine surface of the newly assembled vanity.
one of his massive hands sails over your unclothed body. his fingers roam freely over your flesh - trailing candid, intricate patterns all over you.
you gasp, slowly grinding your ass back into his pelvis, the moment he frames your throat in his hand. "mhm, my independent girl," he murmurs, fixating his crimson orbs over the frantic, almost desperate motions of your ass. "bein' fucked so good aaall over her hard fuckin' work" suddenly, he snaps. closing his fingers, in a barbaric hold, around your neck, he forces your torso away from the vanity - guiding your back straight into his chest. "but, it doesn't work like that now, does it?"
you're forced to look into the small, circular mirror. your bottom lip trapped beneath the weight of your teeth, as his scarred hand slowly dips in between your parted thighs.
"you call me," his middle and ring finger feebly move onto your swollen nub - drawing faint, almost torpid circles all over your clit. "from now on, you fuckin' call me" he drawls, emphasising every word with a wicked, cruel drag of his hips. "you rely on me — fuuck, 'cause I got you, baby — shit, allow me to be your goddam man, yeah?"
heat coils like venomous flames in your stomach. you eyes slam shut, as the real meaning concealed behind his words merge into the massive weight of his thrusts.
"need to hear you," he practically whines, hiding his reddening face into the crook of your neck. "say it back to me. say you'll let me in — nngh! — say you'll need me — fuckfuck, just say it, baby"
“It’s raining,” Bakugou says again for what seemed to be the umpteenth time now.
You glance up from your magazine. He’s been acting like a child all week, with the news of a typhoon that might last for a few days of landfall at best given its current speed.
“Yes, hun. It’s raining,” you agree. “Bit cold, isn’t it?”
He grumbles from where he’s standing by the window. Slumping, he drags his feet to the bed, flopping down next to you. His face finds its way to the crook of your neck, half his body coming over yours. You’ve noticed, in the two years of married life and almost eight years of knowing him, that Bakugou has a tendency to be oblivious of your personal bubble whenever he’s adamantly upset about something.
“Something wrong?” You can’t help but laugh at your question. It was silly, but you already knew the answer.
He grumbles again.
“Hm? Sorry, what was that?”
“Fuckin’ hate it when it rains,” he sighs, almost sounding like a whine.
You smile, setting your magazine aside. You shift a bit to make yourself more comfortable, your fingers finding their way to comb through his not-so-surprisingly soft hair. He even has a thorough care routine for it, leaving you surprised to see that what you assumed to be spiky and dry the first time you saw him was actually soft and healthy.
“We could watch a movie?” A huff.
“Or cook something together?” Another huff.
“Clean up the already clean apartment?” Yet another huff.
You hum. His hold on you tightens just a bit, the weight a familiar embrace. “Or we could just get some sleep again,” you told him. He shifts, and you could tell it was a tepid nod. “Yeah? Sounds good, right?”
Without having to wait too long, Bakugou falls asleep on you. He’s quick to do so because work’s been hectic lately with back-to-back patrols and endless paperwork. It’s a small blessing that there were enough heroes on duty through this weather, even if you and your husband were available for any last-minute backup.
For now, at least, he has you even when it’s raining. It’s a good time to catch up on some sleep.
“And I swear to— those fuckin’ idiots are absolute morons,” he huffs. “Filmin’ me right in front of a burning building? Then have the audacity to make me seem like the bad guy for tellin’ them off? They would’ve been barbecued!”
You notice, sometimes, that whenever Katsuki gets frustrated about something—anything—then his lips form a small pout. Whether it’s intentional or an unconscious habit, you find it adorable every time you’re blessed to see your husband’s expression up close.
“Mm, I did see that,” you hum.
“And y’know what?”
He’s settled comfortably on your lap, head cushioned by your rather soft thighs, perfect for being a substitute pillow while you do his evening skincare routine. Not that he ever needed one. Genetics made it possible for him to never need to worry about his face or whatever. You’re kind of jealous, actually.
Katsuki’s so effortlessly pretty. Handsome pretty. Pretty handsome.
“What?”
“People at the agency, my agency, kept on telling me to—shit, that’s cold—to maintain proper decorum in public,” he scoffs a little when you finally apply some soothing cream, gently massaging the formula on his skin in an upward motion that unknowingly lifts a little tension off his face. “Can you believe that?” he added. “I’m way too stressed to worry about proper decorum bullshit when people are stupid enough to not assess the situation they’re in.”
“I know,” you replied. “I’d probably react the same way as you. Some people do like putting their priorities in the wrong place.”
Katsuki clicked his tongue. “At least you understand,” he murmurs, dragging out a long sigh. “Hair’s going to go gray at this point if they don’t practice their common sense anytime soon.”
You laughed. “I’m going to miss your blonde hair. It’s iconic. Timeless.”
“Yeah, might look badass with gray, though.” And there it was, still a little pout on his lips as he looks up at you. It’s so intimate, so adorable, you think you want a picture of it and have it on the first page of a photo album.
“Mhm. Think you’d look hotter, actually.”
He snorted. “Maybe. We’ll just see in a few decades, huh?”
“That’s a long time, Katsuki.”
“Uh huh. We have a lot more to spend.”
You nodded. You loved the idea of having a lot of decades to spend with Katsuki.
“Hey, love?”
“Hm?”
“Did you know that you pout whenever you’re frustrated?”
He does not. And Katsuki continues to convince you that he doesn’t pout. Even if he’s already pouting while you tease him some more.
୨୧ ៸៸ katsuki takes all steps of his morning routine very seriously ༝ ꒰ 700! ꒱
ꉂ — warnings : female reader ・ kissing ・ slight manga/anime spoilers ✦˚˖ ᵎᵎ
It's 10:50 on a Sunday morning when Katsuki emerges from your shared bedroom — eyes downcast, strands of ash-blonde falling into his vision.
He's fresh out of the shower, like always. And the smell that leeches off him tells you he's still using your soap despite complaining that it's too sweet.
Katsuki takes pride in his daily schedule. Every minute carefully curated down to the second — so routine it's practically muscle memory.
Making your morning tea was only the beginning, one part in the pro -hero's day that he chose to build his life around. The shiny ceramics wait for him on the counter; his & her mugs you'd begged him to buy during a work trip overseas.
"Sleep well?" he questions, as if he doesn't know the answer.
At 10:58, Katsuki hands you your drink, fingers brushing under the curve of the handle. His thighs act as your leg rest, as he trails a hand over the soft skin like it belongs there.
Katsuki's never mastered sleep, often caught under the spell of racing thoughts during late hours of the night — the one part of his curated routine he can never seem to grasp.
"Mhm" you start, taking a small sip of your tea before you reel back from the heat.
He's already eyeing you, reaching for the mug and blowing on the warm liquid between words, "That's it? Just 'mhm'?"
"You really want to know about how I slept, Katsuki?" you smile, digging the ball of your foot playfully against his thigh, "Don't you already know? I felt your eyes on me"
You get a pointed glare in response as he copies your earlier movement, bringing the mug up to his lips and testing the temperature before he's handing it off to you — another habit he's picked up since being in your presence.
Katsuki dubs this his second favourite part of the morning. When his shoulders lax at the sound of you. You could talk about anything, from mundane complaints to quiet observations, because somehow your words are a piercing veil over all the noise in his head.
By 11:05, Katsuki wants you closer — especially when he feels the warm grasp of fatigue clinging to every inch of him at the soft lull of your voice — at least that's his excuse.
The mug's plucked from your hands, tea sloshing against ceramics as it's set down on the coffee table — on a coaster, of course. Katsuki spent way too much on this lump of wood to afford scratches, or worse, water rings.
You're settled into Katsuki's lap in the blink of an eye, your front pressed against his — mere inches from each other as you bask in the early morning glow shining through the curtains.
"Any plans for today?" you murmur against his lips, arms snaking around his neck as you make yourself comfortable.
"Do you have plans?"
You blink, "No.."
He smirks, voice honeyed with morning husk, "Then no, my day's clear." By the time Katsuki pries his eyes away from you, it's 11:10.
Just one more minute. And, instinctively, his eyes are already searching for your lips.
The pale green flash of the clock on the oven blinks at you tauntingly. "It's 11:11 ."
"Oh, yeah?" warm hands trace your sides, tugging at your waist to pull you in closer, "What's that mean?"
"Shh, stop talking."
He wastes no time — his lips pressing so gently into yours, like if he goes any faster the moment won't last. Each touch of your mouth is deliberate, slow. Your body sinking into his touch.
The kiss only leaves you breathless, air escaping the both of you through quiet sighs and soft exhales.
In all his life, Katsuki never imagined a future like this, his whole day quietly shaped around the numbers on the clock. 1:11, 3:33 — small moments of his busy life that, somewhere along the way, started to feel like they belonged to you.
You plant a small kiss to the apple of his cheek, already thinking about the day ahead under the soft arches of your shared home. "I'll be back"
A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips, drifting into the lull that fills the next hour — and, to no surprise of his own, Katsuki's already antsy for 12:12.
a/n: i hope this comes out clearly ... my parents used to kiss on all the angel numbers when i was a kid > < and i think it's cute now even though i thought it was disgusting before ... i was their biggest hater. thank you my dear @kamislop for betaing.... again ❤︎ sigh soft love ... -> masterlist | comments and reblogs greatly appreciated! 💋
taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly ⸝⸝ @suganoms ⸝⸝ @girlluvkatsuki ⸝⸝ @starrsoasis ⸝⸝ @isaxbellevs ⸝⸝ @0nutsforfaye ⸝⸝ @bunnimuse ⸝⸝ @xoxocelestial ⸝⸝ @yunaaaar ⸝⸝ @gyalcapone ⸝⸝ @pok3trash ⸝⸝ @toshislover ⸝⸝ @tentypos ⸝⸝ @satiiv-a ⸝⸝ @cupidkats ⸝⸝ @riotsgrl ⸝⸝ @mamashima ⸝⸝ @rottengrlsworld ⸝⸝ @j1hxxn ⸝⸝ @v1xxul ⸝⸝ @tamaglowchi ⸝⸝ @demonic-charcuterie | join the taglist? lwk might not use this everytime cause i feel annoying asf
"So, are you two dating?" Mina asked, chin resting on her hands as she scrutinized you both, eye almost twitching as she waited for you to answer.
"Mina, you asked us that ten minutes ago," You tilted your head, returning her gaze, "and I told you we aren't."
"Are you sure though?" She leans forward, head halfway shoved into your space, "Maybe you two might be dating but haven't realised it yet."
"How many drinks did you have, Pinky?" Bakugou groaned from beside you, one hand on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the skin peeking out, other hand twirling a glass of whiskey. "Maybe you should call your boyfriend over, Oi! Shitty hai—"
Mina abruptly stands up, walking away from the table, plopping down on the couch farthest away and glaring daggers at him. Apparently he isn't the only one with 'secret' relationship.
You let out a chuckle, turning towards him slightly, "You didn't have to do her dirty like that." Eyeing the whiskey in his glass as you play with you empty one.
"An eye for an eye, sweetheart," He rasped, bringing his glass to your lips, "It's bitter compared to your sugary concoction." His gaze is fixed on your lips, gloss smearing on his glass as you take a gulp, eyes tracing the bobbing of your throat as you swallow.
The burn is what you register first, then the bitter aftertaste, from the tip of your tongue to the back of you throat, "It's so bitter." You wince, leaning back to look at him again, "How do you handle that?"
Your question knocks Bakugou out of his trance, heart melting at the adorable scrunch of your nose, "I have a sweet antidote, I suppose." He leaned in, his glass abandoned on the table, "I can give it to you if you want." He is close enough for you to feel his breath fanning on your cheek.
"I feel like this sweet antidote is sweet for you only," You mumbled, looking at him through your lashes, "I'll be getting another mouth full of bitter whiskey."
You place a hand on his shoulder, letting him tower over you. "Mouth full might be an exaggeration, unless you are talking about my—"
His words are cut off by your lips, pressing against his own, his hands immediately reach for you, pulling you closer. Your fingers tangle in his hairs, causing him to groan, his tongue slips out exploring your mouth.
He grunts against your lips, hand cupping your face, before he pulls away, "You want to go back home?" He asked, eyes silently begging you to agree.
You huff a laugh, nodding your head, Bakugou immediately gets up helping you stand up as well, gathering your stuff and rushing out the door.
it starts simple. he’s laying back on your bed, hoodie riding up a little, abs just barely peeking out. you’re curled next to him, cheek against his chest, arms around his waist.
but then you shift lower.
at first he thinks you’re just getting comfy, but then your cheek presses to his stomach, and you let out this soft little hum like you’ve just found your favorite place in the world.
“…what’re you doin’ down there?”
“mm… tummy,” you mumble, totally content.
he stares at the ceiling, fighting demons. his ears are beginning to tint pink.
“the hell does that mean.”
“i love your tummy,” you say, voice muffled. “so warm. so comfy.”
you press a gentle little kiss just above his waistband and he physically short-circuits. muscles twitch. cheeks go red. brain is just static and mush.
“jesus christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face.
but he doesn’t stop you. doesn’t even move. just lays there like a sacrificial lamb while you rub your cheek against his tummy and kiss it again, whispering “i love you i love you i love you.”
“you’re such a freak,” he grumbles.
you grin. “but you like it.”
he covers his face with a pillow and groans. “shut up.”
interviewers using you as 'bait' for good reactions from prohero!katsuki 😭
it was comical how easy it was. after a stream of dull, bare-minimum answers to questions about his work, his feelings about attacks, or anything in between, they'd bring you up and it was like a switch flipped in his interest.
"yeah, what about her?"
he'd sit up straighter, a small smile on his lips as he reminisced about you as he thoughtfully answered questions about you. the producers clipping every second since it was literally the secret to their virality.
before they couldn't coax more than a yes or no out of him prior, but after bringing up his wife? now it was more of a challenge to get him to shut up.
and the best part was that it worked every. single. time. just when the reporters got worried that the single trick they held up their sleeve for the engagement his fans desperately wanted from him, he'd smile and grace them with a long ass answer once again.
though, it wasn't really a hack anymore. he'd caught on a while ago, but he'd do anything to get an extra second to talk about you.
"i know you're just tryna get me to be sappy and shit. good thing i wanted to talk about my wife anyway."
..my requests are open btw... before i go back into my slump era...
you're sitting on bakugou's bed, scrolling on your phone.
your boyfriend's taking a shower and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head with boredom as your fingers mindlessly scroll a marathon, the small motion the only thing keeping you from barging into the bathroom door and dragging your boyfriend out to cuddle with you.
you feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but can anyone blame you? it's been weeks since you've been in the arms of your personal heater. just as you finally make up your mind to go and pull him out of his shower, the door opens, revealing your explosive boyfriend, looking calm and deliciously wet, clad in a towel.
you sit up on the bed, crossing your arms over your chest, "dude. was this your first shower in twenty years? what took you so long, i was literally about to turn into a fossil in a minute."
bakugou laughs, a deep grumble in his throat, as he ruffles through his wardrobe, looking for something to wear, "dude? you must be really pissed. you missed me that much huh?"
he finally grabs a grey shirt from the drawer and puts it on, following up by pulling his feet through the grey sweatpants that you've sworn should be charged for public indecency.
he climbs into bed, on top of you, placing a gruff peck on your lips as you sigh into his touch. he pulls you on top of him as he lies down, positioning you so that your head is on his chest, your legs entangled with his.
you shuffle closer to him, your eyes instinctively closing on their own, your voice coming out mumbled against his chest, "missed you."
he cards his hand through your hair, letting out a barely audible, "yeah, me too."
you both lie there for a bit when you break the silence with a soft, "kats?" bakugou's half asleep when he grunts in reply, indicating for you to go on.
"...i'm hungry."
"...."
"we just had food like two minutes ago woman," he opens one eye slightly to look at you.
"i know! but waiting for you to come out of your longass shower after, took three hours."
"it was barely thirty minutes-" "can you make me pancakes, please?"
he looks down at you on his chest as you pout up at him. his long-suffering sigh fills the room as he looks upwards, praying for patience. you smile victoriously, which quickly gets replaced by a huff as he pushes your face down.
"fine, but stop making that face. you look constipated." he gets up and you follow behind. he walks up to the kitchen, putting on his 'kiss the chef' apron, before gathering the ingredients and preparing the pancakes, pouring the batter onto the pan.
you go up behind him and hug his waist, peppering kisses over the side of his neck and every part of his face you can reach, "i wonder what your fans would say if they saw such a domestic scene of dynamight. i might just have to wife you up, katsu."
he smirks at your last sentence, "wife me up, huh? so you think you're the one who's gonna propose?."
"oh obviously, i'm the one who wears the pants in this relationship after all." his smirk grows wider as he abruptly turns and picks you up in his arms, tickling your sides until you both fall to the floor in a heap of giggles and limbs, " 'suki stop! b-baby, oh my god! my stomach hurts, ow!"
his smirk grows wider, "uh huh, what were you saying about our relationship again?"
he finally relents after you swat at his hands.
you catch your breath, "tickling me proves nothing. everyone knows dynamight is down bad for his girl. the press can't stop writing articles about it.," you tease. bakugou's grin softens into a smile, "..that's the only thing those brainless extras get right."
you smile up at him, "you're lowkey so cute some-...baby? aren't you sweating a bit too much today? should i turn the ac down?"
bakugou frowns, "what are you talking about? i'm not even sweating."
your frown grows deeper, "what..? do you smell something burning?" bakugou scrunches up his nose.
"yeah..it's not me though...oh shit the pancakes."
first time writing a fic...kinda nervous. 🧍🏻♀️i read so many fanfics, i had to write one. hope it at least passes as mid <33
