a/n: thinking abt being super sleepy and kiss drunk with katsuki
“no more.” he mumbles against your lips.
“one more kats please?” you chase after his lips as he pulls back.
“you’re fallin asleep, princess.” he kisses you again and you whine.
“kats one more.” you blink your heavy lids up at him “kiss me til i fall asleep.” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to the bed with you.
“suppose.” he sighs and presses his lips softly to yours.
he peppers kisses across your lips, smiling with each soft sound that comes from you. he slides his tongue along the seam of your lips, slowly pushing in as he cradles your face. he deepens the kiss, thumbs stroking across your cheeks trying to lull you to bed.
your arms unravel from his neck and he pulls back to pepper the softest kisses across your face. he pulls the covers up and places a kiss on each of your eyelids before leaning back and admiring you.
“love you.” one last kiss to your lips before he curls around you.
bakugou finds a list you made before you dated him
“one. big cock and knows how to use it. two and it’s in all caps. EATER.”
you rest on your forearms on your sofa, looking across the living room to your boyfriend who has appeared from your bedroom. he’s reading a crumpled sheet of paper from god knows where with a massive grin on his face.
“did you get the fan from my room? katsuki, it’s hot!” you whine petulantly. you've got your thin shorts and bralette on, trying to fight the heatwave that has taken over your city.
the heat has beat you down, left you stranded in your living room with three ice lolly packets in your path and skin sticky. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine, you can see it gathered on katsuki’s exposed forehead, yet he still stands there reading.
“hold on, i’m lovin’ this,” he says, gold tooth shining as his mouth stretches wider, “three. rich and generous with it. is that right? you with me for my cock and money?”
you blink at him a few times, trying not to get distracted by his shirtless bare chest or the black headband he’s got on to push his unruly blonde locks back. he’s handsome, deliciously so. still, you think back to why everything he’s saying is so familiar.
“four. handsome. deliciously so. body and face. rare,” bakugou laughs, boyish and booming, “thanks, babe.”
you feel uncomfortable, perspiration dribbling between your breasts, limbs heavy with exhaustion.
“what is that? what are you reading?”
still bakugou ignores you and continues reading from the paper, “five. successful and ambitious. six. good friend even though he pretends he’s not. protective!! seven. so gentlemanly, holding open doors, paying for dates, very clear on why he likes me.” ruby pupils flicker over to you, “that last one is bare minimum.”
then it clicks, about seven points too late. your head snaps over to him robotically, eyes about to fall out of your head. “where the hell did you find that! stop reading it! stop katsuki!”
you hop up from your seat on your sofa, speed like no other taking over you as you run across the room to grab at the paper in bakugou’s hands. his laugh only booms louder, holding the flimsy sheet in the air over your head as you jump like a child.
“seriously, don’t read anymore!” you shout, trying to hoist yourself up his larger body, using his arms and shoulder as a climbing frame.
nothing about bakugou budges, he just continues reading with the paper in the air.
“it’s getting good, baby!” he laughs, ignoring your jumps and furrowed brows, “eight. listens to me. really listens. makes me feel heard and remembers what i say.”
he looks down at you, whose fingertips are slapping the bottom of the paper. you recognise it all too clearly now. the pink ruled lines, the edges ripped out from one of your old notebooks. your handwriting. “that’s cute. i still listen to you, don’t i?”
“you’re not now! give it back!”
“i’m almost done, two more,” bakugou says, hooking his arm behind your back to keep you locked close to him. you’re both sweaty and sticky. you’ve got no choice but to listen, “nine. cooks. such a good cook! you added five exclamation marks there. ten. fulfils some of my love languages. some?”
“now stop.” you urge. he can’t turn the paper around. he can’t.
bakugou pecks your forehead, his cheeks blushed with all the compliments. he continues skimming the list, rereading it.
“so this is why you chose to date me, huh?” he looks down at you, pouts his lips, “c'mon gimme a kiss.”
if you just grab it out his hands, he won’t see the other side. with pros always comes—
he stops pouting at you.
“give me the paper. i wrote this all a few years ago!”
“if these are the pros, where’s the cons? you must have done a cons list.”
you shake your head, side to side. he holds the paper away from you. the opposite side, the list of all your cons, written back at you. you loop out of his arm, trying to reach for it.
he notices you staring, eyes fixated and that’s when he flips the paper around. CONS in big red capital lettering.
“this is private! you weren’t meant to see this, you shouldn’t be snooping in my room!” you squeak but bakugou’s already half down the page, pupils running across every line like he’s in a race.
“one. WILL choose his job over me—,”
“well obviously, your job is to save the world!”
“two. odd relationship with his mother? but apparently it’s better than before.”
“it’s so much better now!”
bakugou’s eyebrows drop now, voice getting lower as he continues, “three. argumentative. argues with EVERYONE. his agency workers, the media and his friends.”
“i understand why you argue with them all now! it makes sense!”
“three. his job is terrifying.”
bakugou looks over to you, solemn narrowed eyes and you don’t have a positive word to say about that.
“it is, sometimes i don’t know if you’ll come home.”
“four. he doesn’t do much else besides work. all his friends are from work.” bakugou pinches his nose bridge, “really? you think that?”
“now i don’t! and i know they’re childhood friends and… and we do things together all the time. i know you love to read, game, you’ve got your lego. i didn’t know all of that then.”
“five. don’t know if my friends and family will understand.” bakugou steps away from you, “the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
you huff on the spot, “this was from when i met you! all they’ve seen of you is shouting and yelling on the television. they didn’t know how lovable you are. how well you treat me.”
bakugou looks at you, then back at the paper. scratches his head. “six. inexperienced with sex but it’s really cute. has never had a girlfriend?”
“but number one pro is that you know how to use it. obviously we’re experienced now, we know everything about each other,” you flick your finger between you and your boyfriend.
“and the girlfriend comment? i can’t help the fact you’re my first.”
“no, i mean yes i know that. it was just a question as to why. it doesn’t mean anything to me now.”
“but it was a factor in whether you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he states.
“well, yeah,” you drawl, “i thought maybe there was a reason as to why. that’s all.”
bakugou raises his eyebrows, looks back at the sheet, “seven. doesn’t always have time for me. travels a lot for work.”
“that hasn’t changed.” bakugou grunts. it’s something he knows you struggle with while dating him. it’s even been a conversation you’ve had a few times throughout your relationship. quality time. you want to spend more time with him but he simply can’t.
you sigh, grabbing his chin between your fingers so he looks directly at you. his eyes are half lidded, cheeks red and exhausted from the negativity and heat. “we’ve been through this. i’m still gonna stick by you, everything i love about you means more than all the things i find difficult.”
he takes your palm away from your face and squeezes it. but you can tell he’s feeling off. “the last one. eight, he’s surrounded by beautiful women all the time.”
“you’re with celebrities, pro heroes, socialites a lot,” you shrug, “that was jealousy on my part, nothing to do with you.”
“i don’t give a fuck about any of that.”
you nod sharply, “i know! i wrote this a while ago, two years even? a lot has changed.”
bakugou sighs from the pit of his stomach, then flings his head back in a huff. “fuck, baby.” he groans.
then he looks down at you, looking up at him.
“just wanna put it out there, that was private, you weren’t meant to see that, my opinions have now changed and i’m sure you had a mental pro con list for me. i just wrote mine down.”
bakugou folds the paper, “yeah, yeah, i get it. you hate my job that much, huh? it covered half of the fuckin’ cons.
“i also said i liked you were successful and ambitious.” you sit on the back of the sofa, crossing your arms.
bakugou mirrors you standing, crossing his arms too. “but nothing about my job has changed since we’ve got together.”
you groan, leaning your head on your shoulder, “katsuki, i think you’re making problems out of nothing here.”
“you made a list of the problems with datin’ me.” he frowns, holding the folded paper between two fingers.
“and a list of the reasons why i wanted to date you. obviously the good reasons won if i’m with you now.” you glare at him with a sharp tone.
he begins to pace around the room, paper still in hand. a terrible sign. you watch as sweat trickles down his skin, body flush with heat.
“but, babe. the problems you’ve had with me from before we were dating are still problems now. i still don’t have time for you, you still are terrified every time i’m minutes late from a mission, you don’t think i’d choose you over my job and you don’t think i do anything but work.”
you moan aloud, “and i still want you despite that all. i get the world needs you, heck, i need you if i come across a villain. i don’t hate you for being a hero.”
he stops behind you, on the other side of the sofa, “i don’t want you to resent me when you realise you could have been with someone who does have more time for you, isn’t obsessed with their job, can put you first and doesn’t scare you.”
you hop off the sofa. leaning your forehead on his collarbone. “katsuki. i wouldn’t be here if i didn't want to be. i love you. i choose you everyday. i don’t want to argue with you.”
bakugou doesn’t touch you. there’s a shake to his voice, “i’m sorry i’m not better. i’m gonna try to be. just wait for me, fuck, maybe when i’m slower and the younger lot take over, they’ll need me less. it’s just now—,”
“it’s okay. you have time for me right now but you wanna argue with me," you pout up at him.
“you did put that i’m argumentative,” he looks away from you as your hands link around his neck.
“look at me.”
shiny lava red pupils find you. you ground him, takes him out of the what ifs and the failures of his past and places him in the present with you.
“i have dated bakugou katsuki for two years and i love him so much. i love how kind and generous he is, always putting his loved ones first. how he dedicates his life and body to saving the world. how even if he’s tired from a long week of working, he still comes over to cook me a three course meal because he wants to see me eat his food. who was so open and willing to change for me. to change his routines and learn my body. who is argumentative because he wants to make things right. who wanted so hard for my family and friends to love him and manages to see his mother once a week just to check up on her.”
you search in both his eyes and he’s listening, he always is.
“i can write an updated list for you, if you want.”
he shakes his head, stuffs his forehead into your neck and slowly pushes you down into the sofa. you laugh, his hands plastered into your waist as his body crushes you in the plush cushions ever so slightly.
“‘m sorry. i shouldn’t have read it. even though i enjoyed the pros.” he muffles, lips tickling your skin.
you tap his shoulder. “you shouldn’t have but it’s okay. i still need you to get my fan. it’s hot.”
“promise you’ll tell me if you want somethin’ to change between us. i’m not wakin’ up one day to you leavin’ me for a reason right under my nose.” he urges and you can see him pleading. the desperation for you to agree.
“promise. now you promise me.”
“course i promise. i couldn’t even fill out ten reasons as to why i hate you.”
“i didn't say i hate you. and sure you can. you hate my cold feet. you hate how i moan about my job. you hate how i hate your job. you hate how i always want a massage. you hate how i wait until the last minute when you’re tucked up in bed for you to get me a glass of water. you hate how i’m indecisive for what i want for my birthdays and—,”
bakugou sits up, “i don't hate any of that shit. love listenin’ to you and half that shit is cute as hell.”
you pout, “you hate when i wear low cut tops out—,”
he frowns, “that’s foreplay, baby. you let me suck your tits after to make me happy. couldn’t give a shit what you wear.”
“how about how protective my friends are? and the fact i tell them everything?”
bakugou shrugs, “you deserve friends that love you that much and that you can tell everythin’.”
“i get snappy when i’m running late or too much is going on or i’m hot.”
with that bakugou gets up. your fan. though not without hovering over you to give you a peck. then another. you press your soft lips against his though you don’t open up because then you will get even hotter and snappy.
he pulls off you and rises from the sofa, “that makes sense, baby. you’re stressed and uncomfortable.”
you roll your eyes, “stop being so understanding!”
he walks towards your bedroom, but not without turning around to look at you. his fingers grip the door frame, “i love you.”
“Get over here,” Bakugou said, glaring at you from across the bed. You had nearly scooched towards the edge of the mattress, dangerously close to falling off.
“You’re like a heater…” you whined. “No more cuddling for one night. Please?”
“WHAT?!” Bakugou looked like you told him to go jump off of a cliff. “The heat is not that bad! Just get over here!”
“No…”
You turned your back to him, hoping for a peaceful night’s rest. Oh how wrong you were.
Bakugou shuffled over to your side of the bed, muttering complaints as he finally reached your back.
He shook your shoulder gently. “Cuddle me.”
“Katsuki… no…”
Bakugou sighed.
“…Please?” His tone was surprisingly vulnerable. “If I take my shirt off, will that help? Just don’t wanna sleep alone without ya…”
You groaned cutely. “Fine, fine.”
He whipped off his shirt and you rolled into his strong arms. He exhaled contentedly, his face digging into your hair for comfort.
“This wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bakugou asked, his smile pressing into your head.
“If I die from overheating, it’s your fault. Remember that, sweetie.”
⟢ insanely protective over you, to the point where it’s not even close to being a secret that you two are fucking. this mostly applies to hero work, but it’s really any social interaction.
⟢ he’s not very good with fans, and he gets so visibly irked if anyone tries to flirt with him — baring his teeth and staring daggers. you’re the only thing that he could ever want, even if being in a relationship scares him to death.
⟢ always does favors for you that you didn’t even request, like tidying your apartment, restocking your period products, or bringing your favorite coffee to patrols — he has all of your drink orders memorized. he then proceeds to act annoyed that he went out of his way, but you know that’s just how he shows affection.
⟢ katsuki is a bit mean in bed, but only as much or as little as you want him to be. and he is very vocal.
⟢ he’ll fuck your throat like he hates you, then practically confess his love while he’s between your thighs, eating your pussy.
⟢ he loves doggy, especially if he needs to let out some frustration, but mating press is his favorite by far. he can still pound into you just as hard, but he reaches even deeper in this position and the way you look at him — it’s his favorite thing ever, aside from eating you out.
⟢ how he’s so much bigger than you, seeing your perfect body folded to accommodate him like this, legs pulled into your chest and over his shoulders as he fucks load after load into you .. he can’t get enough. and fuck, he thinks that you are so pretty, the prettiest girl in the world.
⟢ his deep little groans and breaths are so fucking sexy, and he whines anytime that he bottoms out, or when his eyes flick down to watch your cute, tight pussy taking in his massive cock. it’s always a big stretch, but he fits inside of you like you were made for each other.
⟢ drunk sex with him is an entirely different experience. he’s so vulnerable, and everything is so much deeper, and closer … like he’s trying to meld your souls into one.
⟢ he loves when you hold his face in your hands. it’s so intimate to him, and it makes him feel seen and appreciated. he loves the eye contact, and if his mouth isn’t on yours, he’s kissing along your palm and wrist while you hold him. he is so fucking pretty.
⟢ surprisingly good with aftercare considering his personality, especially if he was a bit rougher than usual that night. bath, snacks, drinks, cuddles — whatever you want. secret softie for sure.
is he fucking anyone else? — absolutely not. it took him months (over a year, really) to get comfortable with you, and he sure as hell isn’t opening up to anyone else.
鋭児郎 ⸻ eijirō
⟢ kiri is the sweetest, softest dom ever. princess treatment ALWAYS unless you ask for something different.
⟢ sex partner doesn’t even begin to describe it; his entire being is your safe space, and he always gives you so much praise.
⟢ he knows exactly what you like, which also means that he can use it against you if you’re being a brat …
⟢ EATER — breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snack. he wants his tongue stuffed in your pussy any time that you’ll let him. he doesn’t care about his own pleasure, only yours, and he will absolutely cum in his pants if he eats you out for long enough, just from your sweet taste and softly grinding his hips against the bed.
⟢ his thick, heavy cock is so sensitive and neglected, but it doesn’t even bother him. he wants his face between your thighs with your dainty hands in his hair, your legs resting over his broad shoulders. he always wants to be your stability.
⟢ he’ll hold you as close as possible — hips, thighs, ass, sometimes folding your legs up and holding the backs of your knees .. and he loves holding eye contact, threatening to stop if you look away. he knows how handsome he is, okay?
⟢ he’s incredibly sensitive to touch. you often feel him shiver when you run your hands through his thick, silky hair. he groans and nuzzles closer to you, whether it’s during sex or just hanging out. he’s such a puppy.
⟢ mating press is his absolute favorite, and he is so fucking good at it; you always cum embarrassingly fast in that position with him.
⟢ he also loves having you on top, but he gets to control the pace. you just look so cute and pretty while you try to ride his big cock, but he almost always has to help you because he’s so much bigger and stronger. he thinks that you’re the most gorgeous thing in the world.
⟢ you love watching his muscles flex under your fingertips. his chest and thighs are both so, so sensitive. he always whines a bit if you kiss and lick him there. cums almost instantly if your mouth so much as brushes his nipples while you’re stroking his cock, and he’ll nearly die if you suck on them.
⟢ the best aftercare you’ll ever receive. loves cockwarming if you’re okay with it, especially in the bath. it’s his favorite thing ever to have his big, thick length at home in your perfect little cunt.
⟢ goes out of his way to make sure that he has your favorite teas and snacks at his place.
⟢ begs u to spend the night every time.
is he fucking anyone else? — nah. this man is in love with you, he’s just too scared to say it out loud yet.
電気 ⸻ denki
⟢ denki is a switch and completely at your whim. his role might change, but he’s always a great time. he is usually submissive to you just because of his personality, but he’s always up for whatever you want.
⟢ you don’t even have to be mean to get him to beg — you could be giving him absolutely everything he wants, being so, so sweet to him, and he’s still a whimpering and crying mess just because he loves to be doted on.
⟢ he loves being choked :( and sucking on your fingers :( insane oral fixation that he usually satisfies by eating your pussy, eagerly fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit like it’s candy. he can and will stay there all morning, day, and night.
⟢ he is so good with his mouth, but even better with his fingers; probably the best on this entire list. he perfectly knows how to apply pressure and which spots to hit.
⟢ he loves overstim, both giving and receiving.
⟢ he’s never really acknowledged it, but he loves if you objectify him a little; praising his looks and how good he feels, with just a bit of dumbification and degradation to put him in his place — “nothin’ goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, huh, denks? lucky you’re so handsome, baby, just sit there and be good f’me.”
⟢ CRYBABY, and he’s so pretty when he cries. :(
⟢ accidentally called u mommy in bed once, and will absolutely do it again if you’re into it.
⟢ would give literally anything to be called your good boy.
⟢ his quirk accidentally goes off in bed sometimes. luckily the other boys have much better control over theirs, but denki just can’t help himself when he’s worked up :( you’ve never gotten hurt from it, and it actually feels good if it’s not too strong …
⟢ you’re usually the one giving aftercare because he absolutely will pass the fuck out after sex — mostly because he’s emotionally drained, not so much physically. you don’t really mind, though, because he’s just the cutest and he always makes you feel so good. but he is great at it when he does take care of you. :)
is he fucking anyone else? — yes, but you’re his favorite girl by far. he always reaches out to you first, but, c’mon … we all know that pro-hero denki is a slut.
焦凍 ⸻ shōto
⟢ poor sho. he is such a sweetheart. he’s inexperienced, but he trusts you enough to help him work through some of his relationship trauma.
⟢ it’s been a lot of trial and error so far to figure out your dynamics, but he leans towards being dominant because this man is a giver. but it’s shoto, and he is so nonchalant that he’ll also let you do pretty much whatever you want to him.
⟢ he was definitely quiet at first while you two were getting to know each other. he doesn’t always say much, but he’s gotten a lot more comfortable with his own sounds because of how much he loves to hear yours.
⟢ he praises you the entire way through — sometimes it’s a small, “feels good, angel” and reassuring touches, and other times he’s pouring his heart out to you over how good it feels because he can’t hold back anymore.
⟢ although he’s usually dominant, your praise drives him insane. none of your sweet words and compliments go unnoticed, and each one encourages him to fuck you harder and better.
⟢ if he’s ever particularly overwhelmed, you’re the one taking care of him, and the sex is so, so sweet, just letting him cry and feel his emotions. he’s still coming to terms with how broken he is, and you are the most comforting thing to him. he loves that he never has to worry about you judging him.
⟢ he especially loves your voice. he sometimes secretly jerks off during phone calls with you, and tries to play it off like he’s just tired and distracted. he’s too shy to ask about phone sex .. yet.
⟢ his favorites are missionary for intimacy, and prone bone for how good it feels. he loves trying new positions with you, though, so you never really know what to expect.
⟢ sho also loves eating your pretty pussy, but he’s still learning. this isn’t a bad thing, though — it’s actually kind of lucky because you get to teach him exactly how you like it.
⟢ clingy cuddler. he doesn’t usually fall asleep right away after sex because he wants to make sure that you have everything you need before he can settle in.
is he fucking anyone else? — yes, but only if you don’t pick up. shoto has a low sex drive, so it’s rare that he asks you, and even more rare that he asks someone else. he usually just takes care of himself if you can’t make it, and he’s thinking about you the entire time.
Katsuki has already turned seventeen by the time you wake up from your coma. Despite the late nights he spends at the hospital by your side, when you wake up, he is inevitably, at school. You wake up to Mitsuki Bakugo holding your hand.
Tags/CW: Bakugo x fem! Reader, high school sweethearts, estab! relationship, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, reader in a coma after the war, class 2-A is a soft menace, mom (in law lmao) Mitsuki is mothering, spoilers for season 8.
Despite it being hard to accept at the state you find yourself in, or even realise it at first, Mitsuki is the one by your bedside when you wake up.
For a second you’re convinced you’re dreaming. The room is too bright, the sheets too stiff, and Katsuki’s mom is sitting there like she fought her way past three nurses and a steel door just to sit and stare at you. Which, knowing her, she probably did.
Her arms are crossed, but her foot is tapping like she’s been waiting a long time. Like she’s been worried. And that solemn look on her face is screaming an apology you don’t recognise yet.
“’Bout time,” she mutters, voice sharp but thin around the edges. “You scared the hell out of us, kid.”
Your throat tightens as you glance, puzzled, around the room. It’s empty, aside from Mitsuki's chair, your bed, and the iv attached to the tender inside of your elbow. No friends, no parents, not a begrunting boyfriend… just Mitsuki and a hospital room you don’t recognise.
In a swift movement, she clasps your hand inside her palms. “I’m sorry sweetheart. Your parents couldn’t make it to Japan yet.” she says and you blink at her.
The lump in your throat starts bubbling in pain. Your lip quivers next, eyes watering at the fraction of a second. The moment you try to move, the dull ache in your ribs reminds you why you’re here in the first place.
“I’m so sorry,”
You try to speak, but find your lips feel like they’re glued together. It hurts when you pry them and it hurts even worse when you try to speak.
“Ka–”
Panic ensues at the sound of your voice. How long have you been here? You don’t even recognise your own voice. Where you could hear softness, you now hear raspiness, broken sounds that can’t form a word.
But still, you want to ask—The last thing you remember is watching Katsuki fall to the ground with his chest torn, you lurching towards Shigaraki with all you had and white hot pain everywhere in your body.
“Kats–Kaah–”
Mitsuki’s eyes flick to your abdomen, the monitors attached to you, then back to you again. Softer, barely “Katsuki? He usually doesn’t leave until he passes out sitting up. Brat’s got stubbornness.”
“Miss—Mitsuk—Mitsuki, my m—mom,”
The sound rips out of you like gravel dragged across concrete, and Mitsuki is already moving— one hand on your shoulder, the other hovering like she wants to fix something she can’t reach.
“Hey, hey— don’t force it,” she says, voice dropping into that hushed, frantic register only mothers have when something hurts their kid. Or a kid who might as well be theirs.
She reaches for the small cup of ice chips on the tray next to your bed, scooping a few with the spoon and pressing it gently to your lips. “Just this, sweetheart. Slow.”
The cold hits your tongue, sharp and clean, and for a moment it’s the only thing keeping you together. Everything else feels like it’s drifting —your memories, your breath, the distant echo of Nejire screaming your name before everything went dark.
Mitsuki watches you swallow, her jaw tight, eyes shining with things she will never say out loud.
“You’ve been out for a few months,” she adds quietly. “Masaru is trying to get ahold of your folks, along with the doctors but… you know how time zones are. And… circumstances.” Her mouth twists like she hates how uptight she’s being. Like practiced softness physically pains her. “We didn’t want you waking up alone.”
Your chest pulls tight. It shouldn’t mean as much as it does. But it does.
Your fingers clutch weakly at the blanket. “K–” The name falls apart in your throat again.
Mitsuki seems to understand anyway.
“He’s alive,” she says firmly. “He’s at school and he’s healing, but he’s alive. Stubborn little shit tried to pretend he wasn’t feeling okay just so they wouldn’t kick him out of your room last night. He’s been visiting everyday.”
Your breath shudders. Relief hits so hard you feel dizzy.
“And— just so you don’t freak out later—” Mitsuki adds, rubbing your hand with her thumb in a rare, almost guilty motion, “he might start crying a lot.”
That makes you freeze.
Mitsuki sighs, leaning back in the chair like the confession took something out of her. She stops herself from telling you the doctors had announced to everyone that you would probably not make it, not too long ago.
“Don’t tell him I said that. He’ll yell at both of us.”
She glances toward the door, then back at you. “He’s gonna be pissed you woke up without him here. Believe me. But, we’ll tell him after classes are over. You okay with that sweetheart?”
You nod, or at least you think you do. Your head barely moves, just a slow dip that makes the world tilt a little. You’re not sure if you’re agreeing or just reacting to the tenderness in her voice — something you’ve never quite heard directed at you like this, so softly, before.
“Good,” Mitsuki murmurs, like she was bracing for you to argue. Her hand squeezes yours gently, thumb brushing over the back in a slow, steady rhythm that feels like it’s meant to keep you anchored.
You swallow again, rough and painful. The word “classes” sticks in your mind like a burr. Katsuki is… at school. The school is alright if that’s the case, and maybe, your friends are too, your teachers, All Might. There’s so much you want to ask, but such little strength inside you.
Mitsuki watches your face carefully. “He wanted to skip,” she says, rolling her eyes as if the memory frustrates her. “Said he didn’t care about his damn education if you were—” She cuts herself off. Too sharp. Too honest.
Another small, guilty sigh. “Anyway. We made him go. The teachers insisted. Kid was a wreck. No sleep, no food… I swear he almost blew up a vending machine because someone told him to ‘keep his chin up.’”
Despite the pain, a weak ghost of a laugh bubbles in your chest — a tiny sound, but it pulls at your ribs like something tearing.
Mitsuki immediately notices. “Easy. Easy, sweetheart,” she whispers, leaning in, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to talk yet. You don’t have to do anything yet.”
But you want to. You want to ask what happened, how bad it was, whether Katsuki’s really okay or just putting on a front because that’s what he does when the world is falling apart around him.
You try again, voice scraping out of you like rough smoke: “H–how…?”
She shakes her head fast, stopping you before the sentence can hurt you more. “Later. When Katsuki’s here.” Her voice softens, unbearably so. “He deserves to hear you first.”
Your breath stutters, the weight of that landing somewhere deep and tender.
Mitsuki reaches up and brushes a loose strand of hair from your forehead. The gesture is so gentle it barely feels real.
“We’ll tell him after school,” she repeats softly. “He’ll come running the second he hears. And he’s gonna be loud, and dramatic, and probably hug you too hard. But he needs this. He needs you.”
Her voice cracks just a little on that last word. Barely noticeable, unless you’re looking for it. And you are.
“Rest now,” she adds, settling back into her chair but not letting go of your hand.
______
Later that evening, the hallway outside your room is louder than it should be for a hospital — muffled bickering, restless footsteps, a sharp whisper that’s definitely Kaminari complaining he’s been standing too long. With your eyes barely opening from your earlier slumber, you can hear Kirishima gently shushing him. Someone — Mina, probably — keeps insisting they should “just peek in real quick because what if she’s awake?”
You also catch the hissed argument that’s delivered as a response “Dude, stop— she might be asleep again!” and “I’m not stopping, you stop!”
Their silhouettes shuffle under the doorframe’s faint light, shadows overlapping like they can’t decide whether to crowd closer or bolt down the hall.
You blink slow, the world tilting for a moment, and the ceiling swims into focus. Your throat is dry. Your body feels like it’s made of bandages and cement. But your brain? Your brain catches up just enough to realize:
They’re here. All of them. A soft exhale escapes you— barely a sound, but apparently loud enough for the enhanced senses of teens with superpowers.
Mitsuki nods her head towards the door and chuckles. “They can’t wait to see you,” The commotion outside stops all at once, like someone hit pause. Then—
“Did you hear that?!”
“Kaminari, shut up—”
“Wait, wait— I think she’s awake—”
“Katsuki’s gonna kill us if we go in—”
“Oh my god. Just. Check!”
Kirishima’s voice breaks through the chaos; firm, gentle, leader-of-the-chaos-crew mode “Guys. Calm down. We’ll knock first.”
There’s a beat of silence and then three different knuckles rap on the door at the exact same time. Your chest shakes with a tiny, pained laugh that’s followed by a thunderous cough. The whispering begins again immediately.
“Bro— I said one person should knock!”
“That wasn’t me!”
“You literally have the loudest knuckles, Sero!”
“How do you even know that—”
Someone sighs. Hard. You recognise the sound as Izuku, doing that tight little anxious inhale before he tries to be responsible.
“Should I… um… should I ask Recovery Girl if we’re allowed—?”
“No, if Kacchan shows up and we’re gone, he’ll blast us into space—”
“Oh he’s definitely gonna show up—”
You try shifting, just enough to look toward the door. A small movement, but enough to tug at something deep in your gut. You wince, which apparently sends the hallway into frenzy.
And before they manage to organize themselves, one brave soul reaches for the door handle.
Mina’s whisper—undoubtedly its hers—cuts through the noise “Okay, on three—”
You have exactly one second to process that, and tighten your hold around Mitsuki’s hand as hard as you can, before a hand curls around the knob and another, much sharper voice snaps from down the hall.
“Touch that door and I swear to god you’re dead.”
Every single voice outside vanishes. You don’t even need to see him to know who said it. Katsuki.
Last time you laid eyes on him he was in a puddle of his own blood, chest torn, right arm destroyed. The thought alone is making your jaw tremble.
Your stomach flips; your eyes do that stupid thing where they well up so much that they sting and your heart kicks into a frantic rhythm, strong enough that the monitor beside you responds with a panicked series of beeps.
For a fragment, you come to believe this is a dream. An afterlife experience. Some sick and twisted purgatory. Some strange, cruel limbo replaying the moments before everything went black.
Mitsuki reacts before you do. She leans in, her free hand hovering near your shoulder as if she can physically hold you together while the monitor continues its frantic beeping. “Easy,” she murmurs, voice low. “Breathe, sweetheart. You’re fine.”
Her thumb presses gently into the back of your hand, grounding you.
The footsteps outside slow, the scrape of rubber soles against the linoleum deliberate now, controlled in that way Katsuki walks when he’s trying to stop himself from running. There’s a muffled scuffle—someone tripping over someone else during their attempt to scramble out of his path.
The doorknob turns. Not violently, but slowly. Carefully. Like he’s afraid the world behind it might shatter if he enters too fast.
The door opens halfway, and Katsuki steps inside.
He’s out of breath, but it's the kind where he’s trying very hard not to show. His hair, shorter than you remember, is a mess from whatever fight he had with the wind on the way here. His uniform shirt is wrinkled, sleeves pushed up his forearms in uneven rolls, and his tie is gone entirely.
But none of that is what gets you. It’s the way he stops actually. Abruptly.
And not because Mitsuki is in his way or because your friends are whisper-squabbling just outside the door. He stops because he sees you.
Awake.
His eyes widen first, a stunned flicker of disbelief that washes over his face before he can hide it. Then everything in him seems to go slack for a moment — shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching, the tension dissolving so suddenly it looks like his legs might give out.
“No fucking way,” he breathes, so quietly it barely reaches the room. His gaze flits across your face, ignoring his mother’s plea for decent language.
Whatever strength he had walked in with drains from his posture all at once. His breath catches on a sound too close to a sob, and he stumbles two steps forward before genuinely stopping himself, like he’s afraid he might do the wrong thing and make you hurt again.
The monitor chooses that exact moment to spike again, a sharp, accusing beep-beep-beep echoing through the walls.
Katsuki flinches, just barely. His eyes flash to the machine, then to your hand clutching Mitsuki’s, then back up to you. Something like guilt — real, aching guilt — tightens his expression. His head jerks toward yours and in the same instant he looks completely gutted—like the beeping is some damning confirmation that you’re in pain because of him, that all those months of him replaying the footage of you almost getting torn apart in half, ignoring every warning from people who told him not to, all led to this moment right here: you trembling, terrified, trying to hold yourself together.
He tries to say your name, but it dissolves into a choked gasp. Tears are already spilling, hot and unguarded, not even wiped away. Katsuki Bakugo—who never cries—can’t stop crying.
Instinct drags you forward. You try to sit up, to reach for him, anything to close the distance, but the muscles in your abdomen seize. A bolt of pain rips through you so sharply your vision whites out, and you collapse back into the bed with a strangled breath.
“Stay still!” Mitsuki catches your shoulder before you can tear something, her voice shaking now too. “Sweetheart, you can’t move—”
Your hand slips from hers anyway, desperate to get to him.
“Hey—” His voice cuts off, a sob and cracks, embarrassing him. He swallows hard, trying again. “Hey. Take it easy, you dummy.”
He says it softly. Too softly for it to be an insult.
Katsuki kneels swiftly beside the bed, and his scarred hand hovers over yours.
When he finally touches your hand, it’s feather-light, trembling with the same fear and relief burning in his eyes. He doesn’t grip, doesn’t hold too tight, doesn’t let go either. He rests his palm over yours, as if he’s anchoring himself to you while afraid that even the slightest pressure might hurt you.
You notice he’s holding a flower inside his other hand. Your eyes widen at the sight and he looks down at his hand too, muttering “It’s for you. A ‘get well soon’”
“Katsu–tsuk–ki” you breathe out, shakingly.
Your fingers twitch, wanting to wrap around his hand, to pull him closer, to fix the broken edges of him the way he’s holding onto you. You try to shift, to ease closer, but your abdomen flares with pain and you freeze, groaning softly.
He freezes too, instantly still, and looks at you with wide, frantic eyes. “Hey… hey, hey, I—I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice cracking, almost pleading.
Then, slowly, he adjusts himself so he can lean against you without putting weight on your ribs. His hand over yours flexes, releases, flexes again, as if he can’t decide whether to grip or just stay connected to you.
His tears fall freely now, soaking your fingers, and the sound of him crying forces tears to come out of your eyes too.
All you can do is squeeze his hand back, as much as your pain will allow, and whisper his name again.
He takes it, eve though his own hand aches like it’s being pierced, because the touch is not just an ember that you’re alive. It’s the undeniable fact that you’re awake.
And Katsuki is just so, so happy that this one good thing happens to him, he doesn’t even mind that the rest of the class storms inside minutes later and everyone sees him crying.
Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist
~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work //
Likes and reblogs are so appreciated but if you you liked this you can let me know in the comments <3
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.
✦ katsuki and his shy girl get to third base ⸝⸝ .ᐟ
ꉂ — warnings : kissing, brief marking, p in v, teasing, pwp ✦˚˖ ᵎᵎ
take it off. three short words that's somehow snowballed into this — bodies stuck together through the haze of warmth and sweat, a hand splayed gently over your hip while his other makes quick work between your thighs.
it hasn't even been thirty minutes since katsuki had his face pressed against your chest, your thighs wrapped around his head. small moments that led to you laid on the bed with your legs spread, two of his fingers dragging in and out of you.
even with the waves of pleasure, you still wish this bed could swallow you whole. save you from the intoxicating feeling of his fingers, and that stare that tells you he's engraving every inch of you to memory.
"should i stop now?" he questions, bracing himself above you as his fingers pull wet sounds from your core, "you think you can take me?"
blissed out in your own high, all you can manage is a nod — a whisper of his name slipping from your lips when his fingers leave you completely.
your eyes flick to his, impatience glinting behind them — something that doesn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend.
"what're you thinking about?"
his hands are already tugging at his boxers, slinking them down the length of his waist as he frees himself from the tight fabric.
"you gotta talk to me" he chuckles at your slack jaw, pumping himself from base to tip before he's inching towards your entrance, "not doin' shit unless you talk to me"
smug asshole.
a jolt shoots up your spine when he taps his length against your folds, once, then twice — thin lines of slick connecting you.
your hands are practically glued to your face now, heat setting in like a tidal wave when he presses against your entrance, just to pull away once more, "katsuki"
"hm? what is it?"
he guides your hands away from your face, burrowing his nose into the crook of your neck and planting chaste kisses against your cheek.
"please."
"please what?"
"katsuki, you know what."
"okay, okay," he snorts out a laugh, prying himself from the spot in your neck and smiling at the dark bruise already blossoming, "'m gonna go slow. you gotta tell me if it hurts though, alright?"
a nod normally wouldn't be accepted so easily — but when every inch of him is aching to touch you, he thinks he'll let it slide just this once.
an elbow digs into the mattress next to your head, his other hand guiding himself along your entrance — foreheads knocking together as you both peer between the valley of your bodies watching him sink inside you.
no feeling could compare to the one in this very moment. perfection in the form katsuki bakugou settling into every part of you
your neck falls against the sheets, all hopes of hiding your sounds slipping away with every new inch.
katsuki's not so composed either, sweat-soaked forehead pressed against yours as he bottoms out with his lip between his teeth. low grumbles of your name muffled in your shoulder as he basks in the feeling — the feeling of you.
a comfortable silence fills the room, bodies heaving as he forces himself to be still inside you.
"good? f-fuck, are you good?" he murmurs, lapping at his bottom lip to clean the metallic droplets from the force of his bite, "won't move until . . . until you say i can, promise. but fuck baby, you feel s'good"
"move, katsuki"
". . . you sure? i'm not forcing you into anything if you're not ready—"
"katsuki, move now please." you groan, hips grinding down against him in search of any friction you can get. "please."
to say katsuki's amazed is an understatement. heart racing against his ribcage as you writhe beneath him despite the expression on your face — as if your body spoke more truths than your mind ever could as you cling to him in your desperate haze.
"ok," he starts, readjusting himself above you. "ok, yeah 'm gonna move."
and he does, slow and measured — dragging against every inch of you as if it's his god-given solace.
he's never felt more intoxicated. barely able to keep eye contact when you cup his face and moan against his lips. katsuki's hypntoized by it all, crimson orbs drinking in every reaction he pulls from you.
and he's always prided himself on being the steady one, a comforting balance when the grip of anxiety gets to be too much. but when you pull him closer like space is a barrier, moan softly in his ear — katsuki's not sure who's grounding who.
a/n: hello 🤓 we all say thank you to @lilithkleia, @gyalcapone and bb @riotsgrl for tokkushin not deactivating! hooray! more of this! + even more | comments and reblogs greatly appreciated! 💋
