Oh How I Wish I Could Read 30 Books In One Sitting Without Getting Bored

wallpaper / k. bakugo

his phone wallpaper was exposed!

it was a rare quiet afternoon in the common room. most of the class had gone out, but you and katsuki bakugo had decided to stay behind.

well, he claimed he had things to “work on,” but you knew he just didn’t want to deal with people today. not that you were complaining. you liked his quiet company, even if he liked to pretend he was annoyed by yours.

you were lounging on the couch with your phone, scrolling through your gallery, occasionally giggling at the silly pictures from the other day. the memory of him accidentally putting salt in his coffee instead of sugar still made you chuckle.

katsuki walked towards your seat with a cup of water on his hand and his phone on the other hand. your eyes immediately traveled to the grenade phone charm you gave him weeks ago.

from the corner of your eye, you saw your boyfriend heavily and locked his phone as he sat beside you and placed the mug on the table. but in that split second before the screen went dark, you caught a glimpse of something familiar.

was that…you?

you turned to him slowly, a mischievous grin creeping up your face. “wait…was that me on your lock screen?”

he froze like a statue. “no.”

you blinked, then laughed. “katsuki, i know what i saw.”

“you’re seein’ things and you're blind as hell.” he grumbled, shifting slightly away from you on the couch.

“oh really? because i distinctly remember that photo. that was from last week during our date at the cafe! you know, when you—pffft!” you snorted, “when you put salt in your coffee by mistake and tried to act like it didn’t taste like sadness.”

“that never happened,” he growled, his ears turning red.

“so you didn’t delete that photo?” you teased, leaning over a bit to try and peek at his phone again.

“tch. mind your own damn business,” he muttered, angling his phone so you couldn’t see a thing.

you leaned in closer, resting your chin on his shoulder, voice soft and teasing. “you must really like looking at me, huh?”

a groan escaped him, low and embarrassed. “why’d i fall for such a dumbass smug like you?”

your breath caught a little at that, the teasing moment melting into something warm and fluttery. “simple, you love me,” you whispered, smiling.

he didn’t deny it.

instead, he grumbled, “hell yeah, i do. so shut up about it before i change my lock screen to a picture of a damn explosion.”

you giggled and snuggled into his side. “okay fine. but only if you send me that photo. i look really cute in it, aren't i?”

“you’re the worst,” he muttered—then pulled you closer anyway.

the next day in class, everything seemed normal—or as normal as it could be when you were dating the great explosion murder god dynamight, the human equivalent of a hand grenade with resting angry face.

he was acting completely unbothered, like nothing had happened between you two yesterday. like he definitely hadn’t admitted to having your photo as his lock screen. like he definitely hadn’t held you on the couch and let you fall asleep on his shoulder while muttering that you “smelled like peace and bad decisions.”

you smirked to yourself at the memory as you slid into your seat.

bakugo was sitting two seats over, looking like he might bite anyone who breathed near him.

all was peaceful…until kaminari, fucking kaminari again, decided to be kaminari.

“yo, bakubro,” he said, leaning over during break. “lemme borrow your phone real quick. i remember y/n using your phone to take the photo of a literature lecture from the last meeting.”

“no,” bakugo replied instantly.

but kaminari was already halfway reaching it.

“i just need to check the time, man! chill yo ass down and whoa, nice lock scre—” he paused. “...is that...is that y/n?”

bakugo’s entire soul left his body.

you watched it happen in real-time: the secondhand embarrassment, the denial, the “i’m going to murder him” expression blooming beautifully across his face.

kaminari turned the phone toward Kirishima, whose eyes lit up. “dude, that’s the pic from the cafe, right? y/n told me it was the time where the she was laughing her ass off because bakugo put—”

bakugo snatched the phone back so fast it nearly burst into flames.

“mind your damn fucking business!” he barked, face scarlet.

the entire row of desks went quiet. even aizawa opened one eye from his nap in the corner.

you, meanwhile, were wheezing into your hands.

kirishima, bless this guy, tried to help. “aw, c’mon man, i think it's sweet and manly! you are finally soft for someone. it’s like watching an angry cat adopt a human.”

“i will happily kill all of you,” bakugo growled, shoving his phone in his pocket like it had betrayed him.

you leaned over and whispered, “you could’ve just used a picture of an explosion.”

he glared at you, cheeks still red. “you’re really lucky you're my girl, dumbass.”

you smiled wide, warm and smug all over again. “damn right, i know.”

masterlist

©luvvixu2025

a/n: im starting to run out of ideas about writing this dude. pls help asap cuz i really need to keep up with my hyperfixation in writing lmfao.

𐔌 ✧.* ᴛʀᴜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ || A compilation of her favorite nicknames that he rarely uses! 

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, no smut or angst, short oneshot, dating au, soft bkg, words of affirmation, praise galore, 375 word count

It's the terms of endearment that make her feel like a flustered school girl on a random tuesday.

An accidental slip of his tongue when he spontaneously mumbles rare forms of praises — it doesn't happen often — but when it does... oh she goes crazy all right.

Like whenever their training and she finally manages to land a solid hit on him?

He grins, completely unbothered that you made his nose bleed.

"There she is... 'atta fucking girl."

Or whenever you solve a math problem correctly?

His crimson eyes scan the worksheet — zeroing in on the unnecessary long equation — giving it a quick once over before handing it back with an invisible smile.

Rubbing your head gently as his fingers caress every spot.

"Finally did it on yur' own hah? Good job baby."

And what about when you show him the little doodles you did in your notebook?

His focus seems to be all over the paper, admiring every little pencil marking and detail he could find.

"Didn't know ya' could draw, looks just like the real thing hun."

Oh! How could she forget his looks of admiration whenever she gave him an outfit of the day?

Giving him a small twirl to show off her new dress — one that he got from his dad's fashion line — only to get five more of the same style a few days later, but in different colors.

It happened so often, she had no choice but to confront him for overfilling her closet, yet his response always stayed the same.

"Hah? Not my fault everything looks great on you, princess."

But her favorite moments?

It's the ones where he speaks of her, when he thinks she's not there.

She didn't mean to eavesdrop — she truly didn't — but when one of their classmates brings up her name, asking him — in a joking manner — why he's always so calm with her, she silently listens behind the wall.

His voice remains unsteady and surprisingly tender.

"Because she's my girlfriend."

Nothing else had to be said.

Those three words could be considered nothing special for anybody else, but to her it held meaning, spoken as if her being his meant just that.

That her being his girlfriend was enough reason to be gentle.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

ᴀ/ɴ ||| omg srry for the late post, I totally forgot but here is a short drabble! I just finished the first draft of the bkg fic for his birthday and it’s over 2k words so be prepared for major fluff! (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ||| katsuki bakugo x f!reader (fluff) ᴛᴀɢꜱ ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin @sunnyalmighty — ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ it’s your softness that drives ichigo insane.

your frilly skirts, the way you hum little songs when you fold laundry, how you say “good morning” like it actually means something. how you always ask if he’s eaten, if his hair’s getting too long, if he wants to sit on the bed while you paint your nails so he doesn’t feel lonely.

you’re all sugar. all soft lips and shiny eyes and pastel hearts. and it makes ichigo’s teeth ache.

because the shit he wants to do to you isn’t soft.

and you don’t even realize.

you’ll be standing there at the sink, humming to yourself, sleeves rolled up while you wash dishes, and he’ll walk behind you, hands in his pockets, voice low like it slipped out by accident:

“could bend you over the counter right now.”

you glance over your shoulder, blinking wide and doe-eyed, suds still clinging to your wrist.

“what’d you say, ichi?”

he’s already leaning on the doorframe, casual as hell, one brow up like you’re imagining things.

“huh? nothing. i said we’re outta milk.”

“oh.” you smile again, all sweet and warm. “i’ll add it to the list!”

he smirks—barely. but the heat behind his eyes lingers, eating you alive from ten feet away.

it gets worse when you dress up. little skirts. glossy lip balm. the socks with frilly lace at the edges. he sits on the couch, watching you spin in front of the mirror.

“you look cute,” he mumbles.

you beam. “you think so?”

he shrugs, arms crossed behind his head.

“yeah. real cute. can’t wait to take it off with my teeth.”

you freeze. “what?”

he blinks up at you like he just asked you about the weather. “hmm? said the pink looks nice.”

“…oh. thanks.”

you turn away, but he sees the heat creeping up your neck.

later, he’ll lean against your door, hands in his hoodie pocket, voice low and quiet as you curl up on your bed reading.

“bet if i sucked on your tits just right you’d make the prettiest noises.”

you don’t even process it for a full second. then you look up, mouth parted.

“…what?”

“huh?” he tilts his head. “i said i like your voice.”

“i—ichigo!”

“what?” he says, grinning like he didn’t just drop a nuclear line.

you toss your pillow at him.

but he lives for it. for the way you fluster. for the way your fingers tighten in your skirt, your knees knock together, your face burns.

you’re all soft curves and sweetness and kindness, and he says the most filthy, devastating things under his breath just to watch you melt.

and the best part?

he never admits it.

“y-you said something nasty just now.”

“me?” he says, leaning in, all wide innocent eyes and smug under the surface. “no way, baby girl. i think you’re hearing things again.”

“liar…”

he kisses your forehead.

“better get your ears checked.”

౨ৎ lot of pretty boys, lot of funny business

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — percy has missed you, and dang wait to show you just how much

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — just a little bit freaky nothing explicit

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

“angel,” percy crooned, slipping behind you and slipping his arms around your waist. you melted into his warmth, head lolling back between his muscled pecs.

“hey, babe,” you hummed, smiling at the feel of your boyfriend holding you in his arms.

“i missed you, gorgeous,” he said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “missed your face, your lips,” he held you closer, trailing kisses along your jawline. suckling on the spot just bellow your ear. “your voice,” a small gasp escaped your lips.

“percy, we’re in public,” you sighed, but you couldn’t help but curl closer into him, tilting your head allowing him more aces to your neck.

“so…” he said, his hands tightening on your hips, rubbing circles along your hip bones. “i need you, angel,” he groaned, “haven’t seen you in so long,”

“it’s only been two days, percy,” you laughed, but percy growled quietly, tugging you closer. his hands slipping down your thighs.

“have you not missed me?” he questioned, lips on your neck, “did my gorgeous girl not need me while i was gone?”

“percy,” you sighed, “of course i did, i always miss you,” you replied, turning in his arms so that you could face him, leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck. percy grinned at you, that charming smile that made your knees weaken.

“then love me, angel,” he pleaded, slipping his hands beneath your thighs and cocking them up so that they wrapped around his hips. he was so strong. effortlessly so. the way he could easily support your weight as though it were nothing and still hold that gorgeous smile that swept you off your feet.

his long tan arms holding you so impossibly close, you wanted him closer. so so much closer.

“baby,” you whispered, finally drawing his lips to yours.

percy kisses you as though you were the air in his lungs, the stars in his sky, his entire world held in his grasp.

he kissed like he would never kiss you again, would never feel the caress of his lips on yours, the slide of your tongue against his.

kissing percy was something like you had never felt before, you adored his lips on yours, would sacrifice everything for just five more minutes of being his. and only his.

“oh, my gorgeous, lovely girl,” percy said against your lips. “never leaving you again,’ he declared, running his fingers down your sides and playing with the hem of your top. “can’t,” he declared, kissing you deeply.

“won’t let you,” you hummed, feathering kisses along his lips and across his cheeks, “the gods have had you long enough, you are mine,” you said, sucking his earlobe into your mouth.

“oh, gorgeous you are gonna get us in trouble,” percy chuckled, swinging you around so that your back was pressed against a tree. you were sure there were probably nymphs pressed together giggling about the pair of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as percy slipped his fingers up your top, squeezing your breasts.

“fuck,” you groaned, lopping your fingers through the belt buckles of his shorts. “i love you, love you so much,” you whimpered, as percy pressed closer, his flush against yours.

“i love you’re more, gorgeous girl,” percy swore, words sweeter that a promise.

“prove it,” you hummed and percy dove straight back in, determined to prove himself.

Of beauty marks - Iwaizumi Hajime

"Iwa-chan doesn't have any beauty marks," Oikawa points out, his voice obnoxious and annoying and-

"He does," you disagree without thinking about it. "On the back of his right elbow, for example."

Four sets of eyes flicker to you and you bite your lip and curse your tongue.

"How would you know?" Oikawa asks, his voice low and daring, like a trap. His eyes pose a challenge, too. Iwaizumi stares down at the table, like he can't believe he's having this conversation in the middle of lunch break, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa... well, who knows what they're thinking, really.

"I'm sitting behind him," you point out. "And he wore short sleeves yesterday."

-

You stare in disbelief. When you accepted the position of Manager of the Seijoh Volleyball Club, you hadn't considered meeting any classmates there. Iwaizumi looked more like a Baseball Player, Oikawa was annoying enough to win every debate he started, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa... well, who knows what they're into, really.

But now they're all here, right in front of you, and shirtless too.

Your eyes flicker over the beauty marks on Iwaizumi's back. They're scattered, like pins on a map. You can't help but think of the saying, and wonder how many past lives Iwaizumi might have had. Or maybe just one overeager significant other.

"You're staring," Oikawa points out with a mean grin.

You send one back. "Get dressed then. You're asking for it."

-

"Need help?" You ask, when Iwaizumi appears next to you after training.

Iwaizumi nods, head bent. It's rare to catch him alone like this. He's flexing his fingers, but keeps his elbows locked to his side.

"I think I injured my elbow," he mutters under his breath. "I don't want to make a fuss about it."

"Want me to check?"

He nods, though jerks his head. "But not here. I don't want-"

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa sings and you lean around the Ace to stare down the Captain.

"Your boy-crush can wait," you holler back at him. "Iwaizumi needs to help me first!"

"Rude!" Oikawa pouts but turns back to the others.

Your hand curls around Iwaizumi's elbow instinctively as you lead him out the door, the equipment bag now heavy on his shoulder. Your pointer finger brushes over something and you know, without having to check, that it's a beauty mark, slightly raised.

You wonder about the intimacy of kissing that spot, a hidden place, love tucked away like a secret.

Iwaizumi shivers and you apologize, but the feeling lingers, the thought has etched itself into the canvas of your mind.

-

"Hey," you look up from your books, surprised to find Iwaizumi towering over your table, his face set into a scowl.

"Yes?"

"Are you free this weekend?"

You mentally check your calendar. "I think so, yes. How's your elbow?"

"Better," he grunts, one hand rising to grip his neck. You spot the beauty mark winking back at you with this movement and almost miss the hints of a blush on his cheeks.

"There's a firework at the park," Iwaizumi points out, looking pained now. "Do you want to join me... there?"

"Oh, who's coming?"

His face contorts for a moment. "Just... us."

You stare at him. He stares back at you. And then it clicks.

"Like... a date?"

"Yes. Please?"

-

"Call me Hajime, please."

You stare at the ceiling of your room, too wired to sleep.

A firework dances behind your closed eyes, but it's not the one you saw tonight. It's a flashwork of memories, of glimpses and stolen moments.

Hajime, smiling up at the sky. His hand around yours, dragging you along to the best spot. The way his face changes at the sight of a bug, delight turning his features younger.

You know the feel of his lips on your cheek, know the warmth of his hand and the taste of his first name on your tongue.

You curl your toes and bury your head in your hands, irrevocably in love.

-

"I miss you," Hajime mutters, bleary eyed and exhausted. He yawns. "I don't want to hang up yet."

"You have to," you disagree. "You need your beauty sleep."

"Who's idea was it anyway, to study in America?"

You laugh. "Yours, Hajime."

"Sounds fake. Sure it wasn't Oikawa?"

"Sadly so. Hey," you smile cheekily. "Are you wearing sunscreen?"

Hajime furrows his brows. "Course. Always."

"Goód, good. Don't want you to get any new beauty marks without me to check."

He laughs, belly-deep and carefree, before slipping out of his shirt in one fluid movement, twisting to turn his back to the camera. "Still the same, love?"

"Still the same."

-

You find Hajime at the window, back bare, hair a mess.

"Hey," you lean into him, press a kiss to the beauty mark right on top his shoulder blade. "What's so interesting out there?"

"We're married," Hajime points out, his voice airy and dreamlike. "We're really married."

"Hmm," you kiss the next beauty mark, the one right above his spine. "Did the view tell you that or did you figure that out yourself?"

He pinches the skin above your hip in retaliation. "You're pretty sassy for a newlywed."

"Doesn't feel that new," you admit. "Feels like we've been married forever."

"Yeah?" He doesn't try to turn, rather takes your hands in his, rubs his thumbs over your wrists. "In a past life, maybe."

You laugh at the thought. "Oh, so I was the overeager significant other that got you those marks, eh?"

"Like it could have been anybody else.

for @chimielie and @seiwas-interact bc I was inspired by this post

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gentle reassurances — k. bakugou

a/n: katsuki can stay mad at a lot of people for a long time. you are most certainly not one of them.

“come here.”

there was no frustration or annoyance in his voice, breaking the tense silence between the two of you as you stood on opposite sides of the kitchen. the words he spoke were soft and calmer than they were just moments ago, and you knew he was putting in careful effort to keep it that way.

you stood there watching him for a few seconds, quiet. he couldn't read the warring emotions on your face as the two of you held eye contact, and for a moment, katsuki was so afraid that you weren't going to come to him—that you were going to turn around and leave him standing there alone with his arms open. that you would leave the argument unfinished, unresolved.

his worries disappeared, however, when you crossed the gap and stepped into his waiting arms. you breathed in his familiar scent as you wrapped your arms around him. he did the same as he buried his face in your hair and closed his eyes. he took a long, deep breath.

you were the first to speak. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have yelled at you."

your voice was muffled against the fabric of his shirt, but his heart gave a squeeze nonetheless. you could feel his head shake against yours, one of his hands moving up and down your back.

"don't apologize," he mumbled, his voice equally as hushed. "i'm the one who came in annoyed. you did nothing wrong. it's just—" he took another deep, steadying breath. "it's been a long day. for both of us."

you hummed against him, not moving from your spot in his chest. "still, it wasn't right for me to yell back at you. i should've given you space when you came in."

katsuki frowned at that, pulling back just enough to look at you as his hands slid down to your waist. "space? why the hell do you think i'd need space from you?" he asked, brows furrowed.

you avoided eye contact, choosing instead to focus on a loose string from the hem of his shirt. katsuki stared at you for a moment before taking your hands in his.

"hey, look at me," he said. again, his voice carried no hint of anger or annoyance at your actions, just gentle reassurance. "you are the one person i will never—ever—need space from, you hear me?"

you knew this tone of voice. it was one he only ever used for you. katsuki wasn't a liar, you knew that—especially not when speaking like this.

he waited silently, watching you nod your head. he pulled you close again, kissing the top of your head.

"i love you, okay? today was long, and...and i shouldn't have yelled, but i never need space from you, alright?" he kissed your head again. "so don't think like that."

you closed your eyes, feeling his chest rumble as he spoke.

"i love you, too, kats." you leaned your head up. "can we go to bed now?"

you smiled at the chuckle he let out, feeling his body reverberate again. he gave you a squeeze, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"for fucks sake, yes please. i'm exhausted." he placed a soft kiss on your neck, then smiled at you.

"no more arguing, okay? not worth arguing over stupid shit like this, anyway. not with you."

"oh, so you'd argue with someone else over stupid shit?" you teased.

he bit back a smile. "shut up. you know what i mean. no more fighting."

you smiled, kissing him. when you pulled back, he swore he could see the stars.

"no more fighting," you concluded, feeling contentment wash over the both of you.

katsu2ji © 2025. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

repost :p

a knock on your boyfriend, bakugo’s door of his dorm room causes a groan to escape his lips, unwrapping his arms from you where you were both previously cuddled up while watching a movie on your laptop.

“who’s that?”, you ask, still laid up in his bed as you watch him get up while marching to his door with pure attitude.

“probably them damn extras again.”, he complains with a grumble, opening his door to find kaminari, kirishima and sero stood there with large smiles on their faces.

“what’s with your goofy faces? and why are you knocking on my door at 10pm?”, he questions, a scowl plastered on his face.

“we were wondering if you wanted to come play this new game with us?”, kirishima asks, holding up a video game you know your boyfriend has been wanting to try out for a while now.

he leans against the doorframe, “well, i’m with my girlfriend right now.”

“yeah but you’ve wanted to play this for a while, right? i’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”, kaminari reasons, sero nodding along with him.

letting out the biggest sigh he could, bakugo replies, “yeah whatever, let me ask her.”, shutting his door halfway so the boys couldn’t see bakugo’s little act he was about to pull off.

“you can go if you want, i don’t mind.” you say softly, turning your head away from the movie you were just watching. you really didn’t mind if he wanted to hang out with his friends since he spent majority of his time with you anyway.

he frowns at your response, mouthing a ‘be quiet’ before opening the door once again after a minute or so, seeing their anticipated smiles.

“yeah she said no.”, bakugo shrugs through his lie nonchalantly, causing you to whip your head back around at him while furrowing your brows.

was this man trying to make his friends hate you?

“well, do you really need to be asking your girlfriend for permission, dude? seems kinda toxic..”, kaminari starts, scratching the back of his head with an awkward look on his face.

“are you questioning her?”, bakugo questions, his voice slightly raised as he holds his usual angry face when anyone mentions anything he doesn’t like about you.

he’s always been protective like that. although, you do wonder if that’s the reason why most of the boys seem a little too cautious around you and always refuse to train with you. bakugo always tells you not to worry about it.

“nah, course not, bro. we’ll play another time it’s fine.”, kirishima steps in, holding his hands up while giving a light hearted laugh, trying to cool bakugo’s behaviour.

“yeah, yeah, fine. whatever.”, bakugo rolls his eyes, shooing off his friends before turning back to you, the angered expression he once had completely wiped off.

his sight finally falls back onto you as he walks back over and getting comfortable in his bed again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest as he interlocks his legs with yours.

if anyone saw the position bakugo was in now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes. angry, aggressive bakugo laid up with a girl, holding onto her so gently as he kisses her forehead, watching some bullshit movie you know he has no interest in watching, and all for his sweet little girlfriend who everyone now seems to think holds him hostage so he can’t hang out with his boys.

and all because he simply just wants to spend all his time with his girlfriend.

“you’re such a lover boy.”, you smile at him, knowing how embarrassed he gets when you say things like this.

“shut up.”, he grumbles, partly hiding his face in the covers as he continues watching the movie with you, back where he wanted to be.

he knows you’re right. you have this man absolutely whipped for you and he couldn’t even care less about it.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

MORE BAKUGO IM LITERALLY DESPERATE ON MY KNEES FOR YOU

AFTER WORK WITH DAD!KATSUKI

synopsis — pro hero dynamight comes home from work to see his wife, 5 year old son, and his cat

word count — 1.3k

a/n — GIRL I GOTCHU HAHAHAHAH ANYWAYS THIS ONE HAS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR A WHOLE LMAOO

The sun was already beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the Bakugo’s household.

The lights inside were soft and cozy, the living room half littered with tiny action figures, crayon drawings taped proudly on the wall, and a small, fluffy tabby cat curled up on top of the backrest of the couch, tail flickering with mild disinterest

The front door creaked open and in stepped Pro Hero Dynamight, still in partial gear, his gauntlets off and the collar of his hero suit unzipped enough to reveal a bit of sweat-slicked skin and tension across his muscles.

Katsuki Bakugo let out a low grunt as he shut the door behind him, the exhaustion of the day still clinging to his body like the grime from battle.

But then-

“Tch.”

His nose twitched.

“Smells like curry,” he muttered, voice softer now, almost…fond.

He dropped his bag by the entrance and toed off his boots, the sound of sizzling in the kitchen pulling a small, crooked smirk on his face. He moved through the house with ease, pausing only to ruffle the cat’s head in passing.

“Oi, fuzzball,” he mumbled to the cat. “You better not be climbin’ the curtains again.”

The cat meowed lazily, entirely unbothered.

In the kitchen, you stood barefoot in pajama pants and an oversized tee, humming quietly while stirring the curry pot. Katsuki leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with a blank look.

“How long have you been home?” he asked in a rough voice around the edges,

You turned with a smile that made something in his chest ease immediately. “Just an hour ago. How was work?”

“Annoying,” he muttered. “Dumbass villain tried to rob a candy store. A candy store.”

You snorted and turned off the stove. “That poor candy shop owner,” you teased. “Imagine getting screamed at by Dynamight over some stolen lollipops.”

“Damn right,” he smirked, walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “Smelled this shit halfway down the block.”

He paused. “Miss you,” he said in a quieter tone.

Your hand came up to run through his messy, ash-blond hair. “You always say that when you’re hungry.”

“Both kinds,” he muttered against your skin, lips brushing lightly over your shoulder.

Just as things were about to turn a little steamier–

“MOM!”

Katsuki groaned and pulled away, already scowling.

The tiny stampede of footsteps echoed down the hallway before your five-year-old burst into the kitchen like a one-man army. Tousled blond hair that matched his father’s, wide crimson eyes full of fire, and the same scowl permanently etched into his chubby face.

“Mama! Guess what happened at school today!” he shouted, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the living room with more strength than a toddler should have.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” you laughed, shooting Katsuki an apologetic look as you followed. “What happened?”

“I punched Daichi ‘cause he said cats are stupid!”

“Oi—what?!” Katsuki stomped in. “What the hell kinda dumbass logic is that?! You can’t just go punchin’ kids, brat!”

“He started it!” the boy huffed, arms crossed, looking so much like his father you could barely keep a straight face. “He said ‘only girls like cats’ and that boys should like dogs!”

“That's stupid,” you said calmly, kneeling down to ruffle your son’s hair. “But next time, use your words, not your fists.”

“He did use his words, right before he decked the other kid,” Katsuki grumbled, arms folded, glaring at the tiny version of himself.

“’Cause words are slow,” your son shot back.

“You little—!”

The cat chose this moment to leap up onto the arm of the couch and meow loudly, effectively ending the argument. Your son turned and gently picked her up, his tiny face softening instantly.

“Mama, look! Neko-chan missed me.”

Katsuki muttered under his breath, “I bet she was hoping’ for peace and quiet.”

You watched with a fond smile as your son began talking to you about everything he did at school, from painting to snack time to how he could totally climb the jungle gym without help now. All the while, Katsuki stood off to the side, getting progressively more annoyed that his wife was being hogged.

At one point, he leaned in toward you, trying to slide an arm around your waist.

Your son slapped his hand away. “No! I’m telling Mama something important.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth. “She’s my damn wife, you little shit.”

“She’s my Mama!”

“She was mine first-”

“Go shower, Dynamight,” you said calmly, not looking up from the story your son was weaving. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Tch. Fine.” Katsuki turned to leave, growling low, “It’s like talking’ to a wall.”

“Love you too, babe.”

He paused and looked over his shoulder. You caught the faint pink dusting his ears before he disappeared down the hall.

-

Later that evening, the house was quieter.

Your son had finally settled in his room, already snoring softly with the cat curled up by his feet. His little lamp glowed with a soft orange hue, illuminating the scribbled drawings of you, Katsuki, and him all holding hands under a wonky sun.

In the master bedroom, you were curled up against the headboard, book in hand, glasses perched on your nose. The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Katsuki stepped out, a towel draped around his shoulders, steam rolling off his skin.

He ran a hand through his damp hair and padded barefoot over to the bed, crawling in beside you in just a pair of low-slung sweatpants. The scent of your shampoo from earlier was still on his skin.

“Kid asleep?”

“Out cold,” you said, flipping a page. “I think he wore himself out arguing with you.”

“Good.”

He reached over and gently tugged the book from your hands, closing it with one hand and tossing it to the nightstand.

“Hey—”

“You had your moment. Now it’s mine.”

You didn’t protest when he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck again, this time with a little sigh that told you exactly how much he’d needed this.

“Don’t say it,” you murmured with a smile.

“Say what?”

“That you missed me.”

“I wasn’t gonna say it,” he grumbled. “I was just gonna touch you a little.”

You giggled and tilted your head back so you could look at him. “Touch me, huh?”

He leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. None of the fire and explosions the world knew him for. Just warmth. Home. Familiarity.

“You’re the only fuckin’ thing that makes the noise go quiet, y’know?” he said lowly, thumb stroking your cheek.

You reached up and brushed his damp bangs from his forehead. “And you’re the only one who puts up with our mini you throwing tantrums.”

“He gets the yelling from you.”

“Tch.”

There was a moment of silence. His hand slipped beneath your shirt, resting on the curve of your waist, nothing lewd, just comfort. You both lay there, the sound of your son’s faint snores carrying through the baby monitor and the occasional thump of the cat exploring the hallway.

“Still think we’re doing’ okay?” you asked quietly.

Katsuki’s voice was firm. “No one’s got what we’ve got.”

You nodded.

The cat slipped into your room then, hopping up at the foot of the bed and curling into a warm little ball. Katsuki looked down at her and muttered, “Traitor.”

You laughed, rolling into him. “Face it. Everyone loves me the most.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You’re lucky I love you even when you say dumb shit like that.”

You kissed his jaw and whispered, “Love you too, Kats.”

And for the first time that day, Katsuki Bakugo truly relaxed—wrapped up in his two favorite people, a sassy cat, and the one place that felt like peace.

Home.

headphones are an epic invention. like yes i am in my little bubble listening to music that you can’t hear

thinking about car mechanic iwa who see's you run into his shop with tears in your eyes, drenched from the rain, crying because your car is making a weird noise and symbols are popping up and you don't know what to do because your dad isn't picking up. you tell him all these through broken sobs as he rubs your back comfortingly. he gives you a towel to dry off and some shitty hot coffee with atleast six sugar packets mixed inside...hoping to warm you up. he goes into your car and checks out what's wrong. your car might take a while to get fixed but he promises he can do it. you thank him graciously when he walks to you the loaner cars.

two weeks later you show up at his shop again, and it's a hotter day and you see him with sweat dripping down his VERY toned chest (he's shirtless bc of the heat and their fan does literally nothing to help) with oil stains on his cheek. were his eyes always this green? you think to yourself. when he hands you the keys back to your car and you start it up, everything works perfectly. once you pay he gives you a little discount (he doesn't tell you though) and you want to thank him..maybe with dinner?