description: Okay, so every time I hear Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex, all I can think about is this one fic (that I totally can’t remember the author of, but it’s one of my faves) where Bakugou and the reader share their first kiss, and the song is playing in the background. It was too perfect. So I took the band’s name, put a twist on it and ran like hell with it to create this little piece of chaos. Enjoy the ride folks!!!
You’d grown used to it—the empty bed, the distant hum of the city beyond your window, the way the sheets always felt colder on his side. It wasn’t that you didn’t love your life with him. You did. But loving a pro-hero meant nights like these—curling up alone while he was out fighting villains, keeping the world safe at the cost of his own peace.
Your nightly routine had become muscle memory. Face washed, skin moisturized, teeth brushed. The only sound in the house was the gentle padding of your feet against the hardwood floor as you moved from the bathroom to the bedroom.
You pulled back the covers and slipped into bed, letting the familiar warmth wrap around you. The scent of clean linen and faint traces of his cologne still clung to the pillows, though it had faded over time.
With a quiet sigh, you turned on your side and let your eyes flutter shut.
And then—
The front door opened.
It wasn’t loud, but it was distinct. The telltale click of the lock, the heavy creak of the hinges, and then the sound of boots and his gauntlets hitting the ground.
Of course, you didn’t need to see him to know it was him. His presence was unmistakable, a force that filled the space like a storm rolling in. His steps were slow but firm, the heavy soles of his boots hitting the floor with just a little more weight than usual.
Then came the scent—smoke, sweat, and burnt caramel. It filled the room, wrapping around you, sinking into the fabric of the sheets like a brand. He always smelled like this after a rough night.
The bed dipped.
You were half-asleep, shifted a little to face his sitting figure on the bed, but then his voice cut through the silence.
“Go back to sleep.”
It was rough—sharp around the edges, like he didn’t want to be touched, like he was still caught in the whirlwind of whatever hell his night had put him through.
But you weren’t going to do that.
Instead, you pushed yourself up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, your voice soft. “Rough night?”
Silence fell for a moment.
“Somethin’ like that.”
He was sitting at the edge of the bed, still in his hero suit, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His head hung low, hair damp from sweat, streaked with soot. He smelled like smoke—but not the kind that came from a battlefield.
You frowned slightly. “Baby…”
He exhaled through his nose, the muscles in his jaw tightening. His fingers twitched slightly, like he was holding something back.
Then, with a sigh, he reached for the nightstand.
You watched as he pulled out a cigarette, sliding it between his lips with one hand while the other flicked open, a small spark from his palm igniting the tip. The ember glowed softly in the dark, casting shadows across his sharp features as he inhaled deeply.
Your stomach twisted. “Katsuki—”
“I know,” he cut you off, already irritated, already defensive. “Spare me the fuckin’ lecture.”
He was such a hypocrite.
Katsuki Bakugou, pro hero Dynamight, the same man who spent years sneering at people who smoked, scoffing at the idea of putting anything in his lungs that could weaken him.
And the worst part? It wasn’t even fresh. The pack was half-crushed, barely touched. You knew damn well he’d been smoking off the same pack for a month. That’s how little he did this, but he still did it.
Smoke curled from his lips as he exhaled, filling the space between you, thick and hazy. His jaw clenched, his fingers rolling the cig between them before taking another drag, letting it burn slow in his lungs before blowing it out in a long breath.
But then he got up and turned to face you, his fingers went to his belt.
Your breath hitched as he unbuckled it, the soft clink of metal ringing in the silence. Your eyes lingered—trailing down, following the way his hands moved, the way his fingers worked open the button, slid down the zipper. The way you could see his half-hard dick through his grey boxers and, fuck, that happy trail.
Heat crept up your neck, pooling in your stomach as your thighs pressed together instinctively.
Katsuki exhaled smoke through his nose before side-eyeing you, catching the way your gaze lingered.
The sight of him like this—half-dressed, hair a mess, cigarette hanging from his lips—was unfair. It shouldn’t have affected you the way it did.
“What’cha lookin’ at, doll?” he murmured, the cigarette still between his lips.
Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t look away.
He smirked, tugging his pants down just enough to sit low on his hips before palming himself through his underwear, giving himself a slow squeeze. His other hand pulled the cig from his lips as he exhaled, voice dropping into something deep, rasped, something that sent a shiver straight down your spine.
“Give me a break,” he muttered, eyes dark as they met yours. “Ride it for me.”
You swallowed, lips parting slightly, unsure. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to, but—
He tilted his head, exhaling another slow breath, his tone turning almost teasing.
“Don’t make me beg, baby.”
You hesitated for a moment, uncertainty gripping you, but the heat between your thighs was undeniable. The way he looked at you—hungry, almost desperate—pushed you over the edge. It was always like this with him, when the lines between frustration and desire blurred.
Katsuki wasn’t someone who begged, and he sure as hell didn’t expect anything from you that he didn’t want. The rawness of his voice, the way his gaze burned through you, left you with no choice but to comply.
But you wanted him to want you—just as much as you wanted him, right here, right now.
“Fuck, Katsuki,” you breathed out, barely able to keep your voice steady. “You’re making this hard…”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, a sound that made your pulse spike. He leaned back on the bed, cigarette dangling from his lips as his hands slid down his boxers. His fingers grasped his length, giving it a slow, teasing stroke, before his gaze shifted back to you—heavy, predatory.
You quickly pulled down your underwear, eager for his dick like you hadn’t just been fucked into the headboard last week by him. But last week felt like months ago.
Katsuki’s breath was hot on your skin, the intensity of his gaze never wavering as he watched you. The burn of desire in his eyes made you feel like you were being consumed whole, and you could feel the heat of his body beneath yours as you got on top of him and began to ride him with steady, purposeful movements.
His hand gripped your hips, guiding you as you moved, but he wasn’t just focused on you. His other hand, the one that wasn’t busy holding you in place, reached over to the nightstand. You watched him carefully, his fingers brushing against the box of cigarettes, pulling one free with a practiced motion.
Before you even had time to process, he was lighting another cigarette, the ember glowing bright as he took a deep drag. The smoke swirled around him, thick and heavy, wrapping itself around you both.
His eyes never left yours as he exhaled a slow, deliberate cloud of smoke, the hazy mist floating between you like a veil of temptation. You felt the burn of his gaze as much as you felt the heat of his body. His lips curled into a smirk, watching you move above him, and you couldn’t help the rush of heat that flooded your cheeks.
“You look good like this, doll,” he murmured between drags, his voice rasping. “But don’t get shy on me now.”
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, from the way he looked as he exhaled the smoke, the faint glow of the cigarette illuminating his sharp features in the dim light. The sound of his deep breaths, the way his chest rose and fell with every inhale, was like a rhythm that matched the pace of your body moving on top of his.
Your hands braced against his chest as you increased the pressure, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate motions. The friction sent a rush of pleasure through you, and you bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds building in your chest. Katsuki didn’t let up, though. His eyes followed every movement, his hands gripping you tighter as he took another drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before blowing it out slowly, letting the cloud surround you both.
You leaned forward, your body trembling with the effort to keep moving, but the sight of him, so relaxed with that damn cigarette between his fingers, was enough to make your mind whirl. You felt the coil of heat tighten deep within you, threatening to snap.
“Fuck, Suki,” you gasped, your voice strained with the effort of riding him, the overwhelming sensation of him inside you mixing with the pull of his cigarette smoke. The blend of pleasure and the slow burn of nicotine clouded your senses.
He exhaled another cloud of smoke, his smirk widening. You could feel his cock twitch inside you, the way he was close but holding back, like he was savoring every moment of this. His hand moved from your waist, sliding up your body, cupping your breast in his hand, fingers squeezing roughly. His thumb brushed against your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
“I don’t need you to make it pretty,” he continued, voice dark and full of command. “Just fuckin’ ride my cock. You hear me?”
The edge in his tone made your heart race, and you pushed yourself to go harder, faster. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, your breathing frantic as you chased that release. The whole room smelled of him—his cologne, the lingering smoke, and the undeniable scent of sex that filled the space with every movement.
His lips parted, another slow drag from the cigarette as he let the smoke roll from his mouth, watching you with eyes that were borderline feral now. “You look so good like this,” he grunted, his grip on your hips tightening as he met you thrust for thrust. “Gonna make me fuckin’ lose it, baby…”
That was all you needed. The words, the sight of him with his cigarette hanging loosely between his lips, his eyes dark with hunger—it sent you tumbling over the edge. Your body tensed, your hands digging into his chest as you came undone, the pleasure rippling through you in waves.
Katsuki followed shortly after, his hands tightening on your hips as he gave one last powerful thrust up into your hips, his release hitting deep inside you as he groaned, his lips curling around the cigarette in his mouth as he took one final drag, blowing it out with a shudder.
You collapsed forward onto his chest, exhausted and sated, but he wasn’t done yet. He sat up a little, still holding you, still partially inside you. He took another drag from the cigarette, his breath shallow as he exhaled the smoke, watching you through half-lidded eyes.
“Go to sleep, baby,” he said, his voice low and thick. “I didn’t mean to wake you in the first place.”
You chuckled softly, half-exhausted and still caught in the haze of the moment. “You promise you’re fine?”
He just smirked, tossing the half-finished cigarette onto the floor.
“Just some stupid fuckin’ villain got away, had me all fucked up, but you made me feel better.”
You watched him toss the cigarette on the floor, too tired to give him shit for it.
“I’m glad, but please no more cigarettes, alright?”
He rolled his eyes before closing them and pulling you in closer than you were.
