kirarileadtheway

Latest Posts by kirarileadtheway

welcome back to frat boy, bf! katsuki, but you're taking a nap and you miss his calls for the first time...

k<3 :

u home yet??

2 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

yo. you said you were leavin class 20 mins ago.

stopped somewhere?

4 missed calls – the loml <333

k<3 :

sweet girl. answer me

not fuckin playin

7 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

i swear to fuck if ur phone died again im gonna duct tape a charger to ur bag

10 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

come on

please

just text me

by the time the clock ticks past 10 minutes, katsuki’s spiraling.

he’s already speed-walked home from campus—snarled at kirishima when he offered to tag along, ignored denki yelling something about pizza—and practically slammed the front door open.

he checks every room with increasing panic.

kitchen? empty. bathroom? lights off. your shoes? by the door. your bag? slung carelessly on the couch.

his heart’s in his throat now. he storms to the bedroom and—there you are.

sprawled out across the bed in your favorite hoodie (his, of course), wrapped in a nest of blankets like some cozy little shit, hair a mess, cheek smushed into the pillow. dead to the world.

katsuki just stops in the doorway. halfway between furious and relieved. he exhales so hard it sounds like a curse, raking a hand through his hair. “fuckin’ hell, woman.”

he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, the tiny puff of breath from your lips, the faint twitch of your fingers as you shift slightly, still completely out of it.

he pads over slowly and crouches beside the bed, bracing himself on the edge of the mattress. just watching you sleep like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen and the most infuriating thing he’s ever dealt with.

you don’t even stir.

“called you ten fuckin’ times,” he whispers, brushing your hair away from your face gently, thumb lingering at your temple. “had my heart about to claw outta my chest.”

he glares down at your peaceful expression. “you couldn’t send one goddamn text?”

you snore a little.

he huffs out a soft, involuntary laugh and leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, voice rough now—not angry, just overflowing with that messy blend of worry and love and the kind of fear he doesn’t even want to name.

“you scared the shit outta me,” he says, voice barely audible now.

he kicks off his shoes, strips down to his hoodie, and climbs into bed beside you, dragging you into his chest like he needs to feel your heartbeat under his palm.

and maybe he does.

he buries his face in your neck, breathes you in, and closes his eyes—like maybe if he holds you tight enough, you’ll never slip away without him noticing again.

“you ever ignore my calls again, i’m gonna kill you… then bring you back just to yell at you.”

it takes a minute for your senses to catch up. the first thing you register is warmth—a lot of it. the solid wall of heat behind you, the weight of an arm slung heavy around your waist, a hand gripping your thigh like it belongs there.

you blink awake slowly, the sunlight slicing through the curtains, warm and golden against your cheek. your mouth is dry. your head is foggy. your entire body feels like it sank into the mattress and refused to surface again.

you open your eyes fully, only to find katsuki awake. already looking at you. already scowling.

he’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, messy blonde hair sticking up in every direction. his eyes are sharp—wide-awake, unblinking, trained directly on your face.

“you almost died.”

you blink. “what?”

“you almost died,” he repeats flatly, voice low and grumpy. “that’s the only excuse i’ll accept.”

you shift slightly, throat dry. “what are you—?”

“my calls,” he snaps, cutting you off. “my texts. ten fuckin’ calls, sweets. not a single goddamn word.”

you glance over at your nightstand. your phone is there. fully charged. blinking with a whole list of missed notifications.

“oh my god.”

your brain stutters through memories. class had wiped you out. you’d come home, tossed your stuff down, meant to take a quick nap—and clearly crashed harder than you thought. hard enough to sleep through ten calls and a boyfriend having a full panic spiral.

you roll onto your back, face him, voice small. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t answer. you could’ve passed out, gotten jumped, gotten hit by a fuckin’ car for all i knew.”

your stomach turns with guilt. “i’m sorry…”

he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face, frustration fading into something a little softer. “i came home ready to break the door down. thought i’d find you hurt or... i dunno... fuck.”

his voice breaks a little on that last word.

your chest aches. you sit up slowly, sliding into his lap and cupping his face with both hands. he doesn’t resist. just leans into you, his arms wrapping tight around your waist like he needs you right there, like it’s the most natural place for them to be.

“i just passed out,” you whisper. “like… sleep coma status.”

“you didn’t even flinch,” he mutters. “thought i was gonna have to check your pulse.”

you snort softly. “i was probably dreaming about you yelling at me.”

he squeezes your thigh, resting his forehead to your collarbone. “not funny. you’re not allowed to scare me like that again.”

you can feel his heart thudding against your chest—still fast, still a little shaken. you lean against him and whisper, voice quiet: “what happens if i do scare you again?”

he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. something soft settles in his expression. that sharp edge in his gaze dulls just a little—not gone, but mellowed, focused. it’s the look he only gives you, like you’re the only thing on the planet worth softening for.

he thinks for a second.

“first,” he says, tone completely serious. “i panic. obviously.”

you snort.

“then,” he continues, brushing a thumb along your jaw, “i break into your phone, make it so the ringtone screams your name at full volume. every time. forever.”

you giggle. “that’s horrifying.”

“i’m not done,” he deadpans. “next, i put a gps tracker in your backpack. and your keychain. and maybe your bra.”

you raise a brow. “my bra?”

“don’t question my methods, woman. i need intel.”

you laugh again, leaning fully into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. he goes quiet. arms wrap tighter around you, firm and warm.

“maybe... i’d hold you like this,” he says, low and sure. “and not let go for a long time.”

you close your eyes as his hand slides up your back, smoothing slow circles into your spine. the rest of the world fades out, tucked away beneath the weight of his embrace and the soft beat of his heart against your cheek.

“and,” he adds, voice barely a whisper now, “i’d make sure you never forget how much you matter to me.”

your throat tightens a little. you bury your face deeper in his neck, smile trembling.

“okay,” you breathe.

“yeah?” he murmurs, holding you a little closer.

“yeah. i promise not to scare you again."

there’s a beat of silence. then—

“good,” he mutters. “’cause i might start showing up to your classes and shit.”

you snort into his shoulder, brushing your fingers through his messy hair. “i promise i’ll keep my phone on ring from now on.”

“you better,” he grumbles, then pauses. “swear to god, i aged five years in seconds.”

you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “you’ll still be hot, even gray.”

he gives you a dry look. “tch. you’re lucky i love with you.”

you grin. “i know.”

his eyes narrow. “oh, do you now?”

and that’s when it happens—he pulls back just enough to stare at you, eyes narrowed, before reaching up and squishing your cheeks between both hands, mushing your lips into a pout.

“you have to say it back,” he barks, holding your face like a grumpy old man scolding a puppy, his thumbs digging into your squishy cheeks. “or i’ll keep doin’ this.”

you try to speak, but it just comes out as a muffled, “i lubb youuuu.”

he snorts, his grin slowly tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“i love you more, sweet girl,” he mutters, releasing your cheeks.

your lips are still puffed out from where he squished your cheeks, but he kisses them anyway—warm and slow and just a little too soft for someone who was grumbling about murder five minutes ago.

his palm stays on your jaw, thumb brushing lazily along your cheekbone, as if he’s still making sure you’re real. your cheeks are still tender from where he squished them, the warmth of his palm lingering.

you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you let yourself melt a little further into him.

wrapped up in warmth and safety and the ridiculous, overprotective heart of the boy who loves you more than he knows what to do with.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ this happened to me last week and i missed the opportunity to buy what i want from mcdonalds 💔 (the minecraft toys here are ASS) hope you guys enjoyed, also how do i make them fuck any suggestions 👉👈

“do you think we’re soulmates?”

“i don’t believe in that shit.” katsuki’s hand tangles in your messy hair sprawled against the pillow he fought you over and ultimately gave to you with a small roll of his eyes.

you huff against his chest, frowning at his words. “you don’t think we were meant to be?”

“hell no.” he grins almost a little mockingly

“why not..?” you mutter, thankful your face is out of his sight because your disappointed expression is really quite laughable.

it’s silent for a long moment, and in the dark room, you assume he fell asleep. you sigh, cautiously readjusting your position to be more comfortable as you shut your eyes, ready to sleep.

that is until his hand drops from your hair onto your arm, rubbing small circles. “i don’t think i’m meant to be with anyone.” he whispers, staring up at his ceiling, still covered in glow in the dark stars from when he was a kid. “i think i just got lucky.”

you keep your eyes closed, half asleep as you respond immediately, “well, i don’t believe in luck. everything happens for a reason, suki.”

“that’s your prerogative, i guess.” he hums, his motions slowing down against your arm, resting there lazily.

“mm,” you wrap your arms around his torso, your cheek smushing against his chest.

another long moment passes, and katsuki’s still staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“you asleep?” he murmurs, careful not to wake you if you are.

“no, baby.”

he nods to himself, leaning down to plant a kiss on your head. “okay. i love you. thank you.” he whispers before resting back on his bed and shutting his eyes.

“thank you for what?” you reply, smiling softly at his affection.

he shrugs lightly before sleep takes over him, his arms engulfed around you without another word.

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?

Bakugou seems to have an entitlement to you.

Even though you verbally express how much you hate his guts, he still tells other people that you’re his. It pisses you off more than anything.

He’s been like this since middle school. He bullied you but when someone else tried to do the same he’d loose his shit. He would corner you and dump out your entire book bag. Then you’d have to scramble to pick up the items on the floor. He would even kick some stuff away as you reached for it. Your teeth clenched at his laughter from your frustration because apparently knowing you couldn’t do anything about the treatment was so fucking hilarious to him.

That wasn’t even the worst thing you’d have to deal with from him. Even so, he’d still find a way to boast to everyone that you were his. He’d even walk you home, kicking stones in your path the entire time.

The bullying got slightly better in high school but the entitlement got worse.

He wasn’t insufferable with his treatment anymore but by then you’d hated him too much to care. He would purposely piss you off in the most casual ways. He wasn’t bullying you, he was just annoying you. It’s as if he needed you to remember of his existence.

He’d stand too close, stare relentlessly, use your stuff without asking, sit next to you uninvited, shoulder check you in the hallway, trip you, etc. It was such light treatment that you sounded absolutely crazy explaining how much you hated him for it.

You were talking to Mina about it one day and she wasn’t as understanding as you hoped.

“Wait… you think Bakugou is tormenting you because he’s showing interest in you?”

You sighed heavily,

“No, he’s not showing interest in me. Well, he’s always had interest in me… but the only thing he’s interested in is making my life terrible!”

She laughed,

“Maybe he just wants you to give him a chance. You know, he is telling everyone that you’re his wife.”

You spat out your water at that. Somehow you upgraded from girlfriend to fucking WIFE? He was surely trying to ruin your chances at teen romance just because of this stupid unwarranted grudge. You couldn’t let this happen!

You let it happen. You find yourself now, twenty years old, looking back at school with frustration. You never got a boyfriend (At least not one that you agreed to have). You hadn’t even had your first kiss! Even worse, you were still a virgin! Even worse x3, you still saw Bakugou way too often.

Somehow, whenever you were on patrol, he’d pop up. He was aggravating with his words as he followed you down the street. Your speed walking could never live up to his strides. He caught up to you easily, no matter how fast you paced.

“Why were you talking to that creep at the donut shop?”

It was so ridiculous of a question that you couldn’t hold back from answering.

“Because I wanted some fucking donuts. Also, he’s not a creep.”

Bakugou scoffed,

“I saw how he looked at you while he made those creme filled donuts. He was probably thinking about how he wanted to creme stuff my girlfriend too-“

Your face heated as you cut his vulgar comment off.

“If anything, you’re the creep for even insinuating that he was considering that! Also, I’m still not your girlfriend!”

He gave an annoyed sigh,

“When will you stop saying that? ‘I’m not your girlfriend’. We’ve been over this since middle school. You’re also my wife.”

You were too tired for this. You had hardly any sleep last night because of the mountain of reports you procrastinated and you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. You only had an hour left of your shift before you could go home and power off in your bed. You hoped that you could even drive in this condition.

“Stop following me. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Watch your step dumb-“

When did you even get on the pavement? And why were you in an alley? Your eyes struggled to stay open as you were dragged up from the concrete.

“What the fuck? When’s the last time you slept?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. It felt good to lean against him after dragging your feet all day.

“I dunno.”

Everything went blank after that. Now you’ve found yourself in an unknown bed, in the middle of the night. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life, whether its from the comfortable mattress or the strong arms wrapped around you.

Wait… arms?

You spring up at the realization that you have no idea where you are. You quickly look around to find exits but it’s too dark.

“Fucking relax, its just me.”

Bakugou’s voice, and you just now realize, his smell too. Bakugou grabs you before you can fully jump out of the bed.

“Let go of me!”

“You can whine about this in the morning. I’m tired and I know you’re tired too. Sleep.”

He cradles you in his arms so securely that theres no chance of you getting out. Your panic switches to fatigue at his body heat. The way he begins to play with your hair and the sound of him breathing have you surrendering faster than you’d care to admit. Your eyes flutter shut against Bakugou’s chest.

Maybe you can be your bully’s girlfriend just for tonight.

calvins or nothing?

[nsfw-ish] ; bakugou katsuki x reader — domestic fluff, slight horniness, bakugou katsuki being a cute little bean (but also a sexy phenomenon), slight humor <3

♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖📸.𖥔 ݁ ˖♡

notes: this is inspired by the bad bunny x calvin klein ad that came out a few weeks ago. i’m ovulating and had this in my drafts. enjoy 😃

Your grumpy Pro Hero boyfriend—the one who hates cameras, hates media circuits, hates anything remotely resembling a brand deal—somehow got talked into doing an ad. That, in itself, is already enough of a shocker. The man rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Instagram. His idea of PR is grunting his way through one-word answers at press conferences.

So, yeah. When Katsuki says he’s doing a shoot, you're caught off guard.

The announcement isn’t even some grand confession—it’s a casual mumble, like he’s commenting on the weather. He says it while washing the dishes, fingers soapy, sleeves of his tee pushed up to his elbows, the evening news humming in the background. You're sitting on the counter, half-listening to the TV, half-watching the muscles in his back flex through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Gonna do a shoot in a couple days,” he mutters like it’s nothing. Like the sky’s blue. Like he’s not about to detonate your entire sense of reality.

You pause mid-sip of your water. “A shoot?” you echo, blinking at him.

He doesn’t even look up. “Yeah.”

You slide off the counter and walk toward him, disbelief coloring your voice. “Wait, seriously? You? Doing a shoot? Like… willingly?”

He finally cuts you a glance, eyes narrowing. “What the fuck would I joke for?”

“I don’t know! Because you hate this stuff?” You raise a brow. “Last week you growled at a guy just for taking a picture of you at the market.”

He scoffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “Agent wouldn’t shut up about it. Said it’s a good deal. Said it’d make my numbers spike.” He grinds his teeth. “S’bullshit.”

You grin, stepping even closer, your hands brushing against the hem of his shirt. “So what is it, huh? Sportswear? A cologne campaign? Let me guess, something with black-and-white aesthetics, all ‘I’m brooding and mysterious and I could kill you but also model for Givenchy.’”

His glare sharpens. “I ain't tellin’ you,” he mutters, and then smears a soapy hand across your face.

You yelp, eyes widening in shock before laughing, pushing him back with a dish towel, and just like that, the kitchen descends into a sudsy, chaotic mess—water splashing, laughter echoing, and your annoyed, grumbly boyfriend cracking the faintest smile as you attack him with bubbles.

You forget about it after that.

He goes to the shoot a few days later, grumbles about how stupid it was, comes home smelling faintly of sweat and photo studio, and promptly takes a nap on the couch with his face buried in your thigh.

End of story—or so you think.

Until the ad airs.

And the entire world explodes.

You’re not even the first person to see it. You wake up to six missed calls from Kaminari, seventeen texts in a group chat with Amanai and Hanari, and three DMs from stylists you’ve only ever worked with once, all saying something along the lines of:

IS THAT BAKUGOU???
Please tell me that’s YOUR man.
why didn’t you warn me???

You groggily pull up the video link with one eye open, barely processing the thumbnail—just muted greys and harsh lighting—and then hit play.

And then the world stops.

The screen fades in, and the first thing you see is concrete—cold and industrial, metal beams and stark shadows. The lighting is sharp and stylized, the kind of aesthetic that screams high-end minimalism, and then—

There he is.

Katsuki.

In nothing but tight black briefs, leaning against a concrete wall, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his thigh. His scars catch the light. His tan skin looks like it's been kissed by some god. His abs—hard and defined, with that perfect cut down his sides—flex slightly as he breathes. There’s sweat glistening faintly on his collarbone.

And his expression?

That look. The one he gives when he’s about to fight someone and knows he’s already won. That heavy-lidded, lazy gaze that screams dominance and confidence. His jaw is tight. His mouth is parted just slightly, teeth catching on the fabric of his own tank top as he lifts it with one hand, revealing the full line of his torso—slow and unbothered, like this means nothing to him.

You gasp. You physically clutch your phone like it might explode in your hands.

Is this a fucking fever dream?

The ad keeps going. Transitions shift—now he’s outside, in some open-air gym setup, hanging from a pull-up bar in white briefs, his body tense and glistening, thighs flexing as he hooks his legs around the metal, inverted and still steady. The camera pans slowly, sinfully, down the line of his waist, his back muscles moving with effortless control.

You are floored.

And then—then—he’s sprawled in a plush lounge chair, still in briefs, arms behind his head, legs spread in that arrogant, casual way that only he could pull off. He’s completely relaxed, like he doesn’t know the entire planet is watching this ad and forgetting how to breathe.

You drop your phone on the bed and bury your face in your hands.

“What the fuck,” you groan into your palms. Your heart is pounding. Your thighs press together on instinct.

Katsuki, your grumpy, camera-hating, blunt-as-hell boyfriend… just dropped the hottest underwear ad of the year. And you had no idea what he was shooting until now.

You scramble to your feet, pacing your bedroom, mouth still open, heart pounding in your chest like war drums.

Your phone still lies face down on the bed, but you’re pacing like the floor might cave in. Your heart is slamming against your ribs, your body thrumming with something between disbelief and desperate, carnal desire. There’s a burn low in your stomach. A buzzing heat behind your eyes.

Because the ad isn’t done. It gets worse—so much worse.

The music shifts, something darker now, heavier—bass rolling like thunder. And then the screen cuts to him again. Katsuki. In jeans this time.

Low-rise. Washed-out. Loose around the thighs but slung criminally low on his hips.

And those goddamn white briefs are peeking out above the waistband like it was staged in a dream. His hand glides lazily over his stomach, fingers tracing the defined V of his hips, brushing right past the thick trail of hair under his navel. He stops there—lingers there—just barely grazing the hem of the briefs before his thumb tucks in, teasing the edge. His gaze flicks to the camera.

And he smirks.

Not his usual cocky grin, no. This one’s lazy. Lopsided. Something slow and dangerous that makes your knees buckle. Like he knows what he’s doing. Like he planned this moment for you and you alone.

You gasp. You clutch your chest. "Oh my God."

And then—as if that wasn’t enough—the music picks up and the scenes start layering: cuts of him against the concrete, muscles flexing under the strain of his pose; transitions to the gym, his thighs clenching, his expression loose with exertion; cuts to that plush chair, where he’s lounging like sin incarnate, and finally, back to the jeans, with his hand still teasing that waistband.

It’s not an ad anymore. It’s a weapon. A visual threat. A public sex dream.

You stand there, completely dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth parted, blinking like you’ve been smacked upside the head with a wet towel.

And the comments?

Oh. The comments.

@takxmi291_: raw. next question.
@abersiw.3: Good lord what a great day to be alive.
@BIGPAPA.EJI: FLASH US ‼️‼️‼️
@numbber1.lemilionnn: giggling at 3am
@angelzkiss: GOOD GOD IM GIDJDJFNNFHDNDNDJDNCN🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦
@hyurhio008: YEP IM GETTING HIM PREGNANT
@Cello_Zumazz: damn now my screen's all sticky :/
@bpxrndeku: I FEEL LIKE A MAN IN THE 1800S SEEING AN ANKLE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
@lennysqqie: don’t be scared. take em off.
@dynazaddy98: i wanna GAGGGG on that huge COCK—
@stareandfanfic: look at em TITS AWOOGAAAA

You can’t even think. You’re vibrating. Your brain is gone. You’re standing there, still in pajamas, while your very private, very grouchy, very hot boyfriend just broke the Internet in his underwear.

You can’t let this slide.

So you bide your time. You wait until he’s home from patrol—freshly showered, hair damp and messy, wearing his black hoodie and sweatpants that clings to him a little too well. He’s sitting at the kitchen table now, chopsticks in one hand, steam rising from the shabu shabu you made. His brow is furrowed as he eats, and he's grumbling about how some new sidekick forgot to file a report properly.

You sit across from him with your phone in hand, not saying anything.

And then, casually, you clear your throat and say in a bright voice:

“Explosively warm, and snug. Dynamight wears the new Iconic Cotton Stretch. Now in stores.”

Katsuki freezes mid-bite.

His chopsticks pause, a slice of beef and mushroom still dangling, and you see it happen—the moment it registers. His shoulders stiffen. His jaw tightens. And then slowly, as if the food can save him, he stuffs it into his mouth.

You try not to laugh. You fail.

“What the hell, Katsuki?” you grin, voice breathless with amusement. “Why didn’t you tell me?! That ad launched three hours ago and I’ve seen your dick print more times than I’ve seen my own reflection today.”

He grunts. Doesn’t look at you.

“Honey, you looked insanely good. Like… I’m not even sure it was legal.” You lean forward over the table, voice dropping slightly. “You were so hot. And that grin?” You tap your phone. “That was cute, baby.”

His ears go bright red. A slow, creeping crimson that crawls up his neck to his cheeks.

He finally glances at you, scowling faintly. “S’just a stupid ad. Ain’t that important.”

“Oh, it’s important to me,” you murmur with a knowing smirk.

He huffs and looks away again, stuffing another bite in his mouth. But his jaw’s twitching. He’s so clearly flustered, you can barely take it. A tiny, pleased smile tugs at his lips even though he’s fighting it with everything he has.

And you realize—this is why he didn’t tell you. Because deep down, Katsuki knew. He knew how hot he looked, how big the reaction would be, how much people would thirst over it.

But more than anything, he knew you would look at him like this—like he hung the goddamn moon. And he wouldn’t know what to do with that.

“Sh’ddup,” he mutters under his breath, cheeks now fully flushed.

You grin like a wolf, biting your lip as you lean over the table, eyes glinting.

“No. I’m not gonna shut up. In fact, I’m gonna print out a poster. Hang it in the hallway. Right across from the bathroom.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls—but it’s soft. There’s no heat behind it. Just embarrassment and affection and that little smirk he only wears when he’s happy in spite of himself.

And you?

You’re head over heels in love with this absolute menace of a man. Horny and obsessed and ready to make him flustered for the rest of the night.

Later, the apartment is warm, and quiet, the soft hum of the city alive behind the windows—but in here, it’s just you and him.

The scent of the shabu shabu still lingers faintly in the air, and the clinking of dishes is rhythmic, almost soothing. Katsuki stands at the sink, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, forearms slick and glistening. His hands are buried in a sink full of suds, scrubbing out the plates he insisted on washing since you cooked.

You’re perched on the counter next to him, legs swinging slightly, phone in hand, face lit up with mischief and fondness. The grin on your face is damn near criminal. You can’t help it—you’ve been giggling all night. Ever since the ad dropped, you’ve been glued to the internet, reading every unhinged, thirsty, downright feral comment about your boyfriend. And oh, they are so good.

Katsuki grumbles under his breath every time you so much as snort at your screen, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. Not really. Because he secretly loves the sound of your laugh—especially when it’s because of him, even if it makes him wanna throw himself into the damn sink.

You scroll through your phone, eyes twinkling, then grin wider. “Should I read you the comments next?”

He groans. “No.”

But you’re already doing it. “@yoqnoak24 says: i’m wet, ready, and stretched out to g—”

Before you can finish, a wet, soapy hand slaps gently but firmly against your face.

“Katsuki!” you squeal, laughing in full as the bubbles smear across your cheek and jaw, eyes crinkling with delight.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he growls through a grin of his own, already tugging you off the counter with one hand on your waist.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders instinctively as he leans in, pressing a messy, grinning kiss against your lips. It’s hot, breathless, teeth clicking together for a second before he pulls back just enough to murmur against your mouth, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

You’re smiling so wide you can barely kiss him back properly, giggling like a teenager. “Probably fuck me stupid, since you’ve already got half the world begging for it.”

“Jesus fuck,” he groans, burying his face in your neck. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the way his ears are burning where they brush your jaw. But he’s smiling. You can feel that too. It’s hidden, buried in the press of his mouth against your collarbone, but it’s there. That secret softness only you get.

“You’re the worst,” he mumbles.

“No,” you say, tugging gently at his hair as you press a kiss behind his ear. “I’m the best. I’m your number one fan.”

“Damn right you are.”

You laugh again, and he chuckles too—quiet, low, warm in your chest.

This. This is your life with him. This ridiculous, heart-melting mix of domesticity and chaos. You and him in your kitchen, covered in soap and laughter, still buzzing with the aftershocks of an ad he didn’t even want to do. You and him trading kisses like secrets, teasing and tugging, wrapped around each other like you’ve always belonged this way.

God, you love this man. More than anything.

And the best part?

He loves you back just as hard.

bakugou being a dad who’s completely smitten with his babygirl…. LORDDDDDDD GIMME STRENGTH

the language of biting.

NOTE. a teensy bitsy suggestive!

Bakugou doesn’t always say “I love you” with words.

Sure, he can.

He has.

He does.

But more often than not, it’s in the things he does: folding your laundry just the way you like it, memorizing the exact heat setting for your tea, walking on the side of traffic when you two are out (it’s become a habit at this point, and he will get playfully physical with trying to switch places with you if you think otherwise), scowling at people who so much as glance at you too long.

The quiet, loaded things.

Acts of service.

Devotion in motion.

But when you two are alone—when the world outside your apartment fades and it’s just the two of you—his love starts to show in other, more unconventional ways.

Like biting.

It starts off soft, playful, almost lazy.

You’ll be curled on the couch, on his lap, while something plays on the TV, forgotten. Your hand will drift against his surprisingly soft hands, playing with his fingers to flex them open and close as you hum, and he’ll nuzzle closer, burying his face into your thigh or shoulder or collarbone—wherever you are.

Because Bakugou is an unreliable narrator when it comes to you.

And then, without warning—

“Katsuki!”

You gasp, as if he had just committed the most heinous crime, laughing as he runs his canines gently over your skin, slow and deliberate, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him get away with.

“What?” he mumbles, not even pretending to be innocent.

“You bit me!”

He huffs a short laugh. “Did not.”

“I felt your teeth, you maniac.”

“Didn’t bite,” he says again, leaning in to nip at your collarbone, slow and deliberate this time. “Just a pretend bite. Barely.”

You yelp and try to push him away, palms flat against his shoulders. “What are you, a dog?”

Bakugou smirks against your skin. “You don’t hear me barkin’, do you?”

“Should I take you to the vet? Get your rabies shot?”

His teeth graze you again, this time just on your aching shoulder blade that you’ve been whining about for the past few days. “Too late, dummy.”

He bites down again, this time just enough to leave a fleeting pressure—never enough to bruise, never enough to really hurt, just enough to say, Mine. His hand slides under your hoodie, not in a lewd way, but to rest warm against your waist as he presses his teeth into the curve of your shoulder.

“Why is this your favorite?”

“Because you’re soft.”

“That’s not a reason to bite me.”

“Or maybe you could just admit that I’m cute when I do it.”

“Cute? You just bit me like a teething baby!”

He quietly sighs and leans up higher, bringing his face close to yours now. “Wasn’t tryna hurt you. Just…” He pauses, nose brushing yours. “‘s weird, but I like doin’ it. That ok?”

Bakugou never bites when he’s angry. Never in frustration. Only when he’s calm, or smug, or holding you close and soaking in the way you fit perfectly in his arms. The biting isn’t possessive in the toxic way. It’s intimate. Familiar. He doesn’t even realize how often he does it.

Your expression softens at that, because of course it does. How could it not? His voice had gone quiet, and his brows were furrowed in that shy, self-conscious way that only ever comes out when he’s being sincere.

“You do know biting me isn’t how humans mark territory, right?” you tease.

His ears turn pink at the tip. “Shut up.”

“No, no, I’m serious. Should I be worried? Is this like… a feral wolfboy thing?”

“Keep talkin’ and I will bite harder.”

You snort and lean forward to kiss the tip of his nose. “You’re weird.”

“And you’re still in my lap.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Never said I wasn’ lucky.”

But then, just as you relax again—he strikes. A soft, precise bite just behind your ear this time around. His canines dig in just enough to make you squirm, though there’s no pain. Just the warm press of his lips a moment later.

“Katsuki!”

You could feel him smile against your skin. “Couldn’t help it. You smell too good.”

“You are—insane. You are absolutely feral.”

“You’re still not movin’.”

“Because you’re hugging me like a bear, idiot.”

“Guess you can’t do anythin’ about it now, huh?”

And then he’s peppering kisses along your shoulder—soft ones, a little too sweet to match the devilish glint in his eye—interrupted every few seconds by little nips. Not enough to leave marks. Just enough to feel. Enough to make you shiver and laugh and squirm under his touch until you're warm and breathless from giggling.

Eventually, you push him away with both hands, heaving in breaths. “You need a warning label.”

“I’ve got a hero license. Close enough.”

“I’m gonna make you get a rabies shot.”

“Go ahead. Long as you’re there to hold my hand.”

You roll your eyes, but the affection behind it is undeniable. “You’re the worst.”

“And still your favorite.”

You sigh, defeated, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m married to someone who bites like a baby who’s just now getting their baby teeth.”

He grins, closing his eyes. “Better get used to it.”

“You done?”

“…Maybe.”

“Katsuki.”

“…Okay, okay. I’m done.”

. . .

“…For now.”

“If those leave a mark—I will make you do laundry by yourself next week.”

And Bakugou, pleased as hell with himself, gives you one final, barely-there bite to your shoulder and murmurs, “Love you too.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

Bakugou, whose stamina is unbeatable. Who has just finished fucking you in any place necessary of the bedroom—the bed, the mini-couch, the floor—and still can’t keep his hands off you.

After laying on the bed for rejuvenating moments (at least for him), his large hand slides up your shoulder with a few coaxing kisses.

“Shower,” is all he says, his gruff voice strained and warm breath perceptible against your neck. You just nod weakly and attempt to ignore the mess between your legs.

In fact, he has to carry you to the bathroom. When you’re both in the shower, he still acts as support: your back is to his chest so he bears most of your weight, and his fingers span your lower stomach while you attempt to wash yourself.

You can barely keep your eyes open, so relaxed by the water, but he can see all of you just by where his chin rests on your shoulder. The water and soap sliding past the peaks of your breasts, the souvenirs that you not-so-sternly asked him not to leave on your skin.

Where you rest in front of him, he can’t help but feel aroused all over again, especially rubbing his hands over your supple skin that he couldn’t appreciate the first few rounds, clouded by the roughness you love.

Unable to just watch, he gently spins you around. Your eyes are half-closed, so you pay it no mind. You just continue your slow, leisure washing, completely unaware of the fact that he’s completely hard again, even if you wouldn’t be surprised.

Your eyes open back to reality when he gently takes the loofah from you and hangs it up on the little hook. His muscles casually ripple when he does literally anything, and if you weren’t so attracted to it, you’d be jealous.

“C’mere,” he orders, his voice in that soft tone reserved for you. His hands follow, crossing at your lower back and pulling you toward him even more. The atmosphere is hot and slow with the exhaustion settled into both of you.

You do something of a hum in question, but don’t resist when he leans down and slowly captures your lips in his. Your longing for each other is evident simply in the sigh that follows when you connect.

There’s water dripping everywhere, mostly on you, but the kiss is everything Bakugou usually isn’t: patient, slow, and needy. Actually, no. He was always pretty needy.

“Kat,” you whisper, and he groans in response, stretching his hands up your wet skin until he crosses your ribs, his thumbs move past the side of your breasts, and your arms are naturally guided to his neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were asking, to be honest, but you didn’t care. Not when you could feel the length of him pressed against your stomach.

Bakugou moves a few strands of drenched hair back behind your ear, and then strokes the rest at your nape to keep your head up to him. It was admirable, really, how he could be literally twitching in arousal, and still move like it doesn’t bother him at all.

Although, he is getting closer at hinting to it, because somewhere in the heat, your right leg is being lifted to his hip. When you find an escape from his kiss (he doesn’t allow you many), you glance down to what he’s doing.

He interprets your brows slightly furrowing and the low, tired droop of your eyes, already knowing what you’re going to say.

Voice still soft and practically gone even in distress, you begin, “I can’t go another round. There’s no way I’ll—”

“Shh,” he places a kiss on your forehead, then another at your temple. His head dips to lick and kiss in the crook of your neck, and your fingers either run through his wet, blonde hair or span the muscles of his back. He’s completely gone.

The left hand that upholds your leg starts to massage your thigh and inch up to your ass. “I talk to this pretty pussy almost every night, and you don’t think I know what you can handle?”

A whimper leaves your mouth and your hold tightens around him. Despite your lower body being completely stretched and at ease, he can still feel the tension elsewhere.

He continues, his voice dripping with reassurance, “Slide it in yourself. Then you tell me how it feels.”

And after a few moments and a sigh, you carefully reach down and wrap your fingers around him the best you can. You can feel him react to the movement alone, and with a prayer, you guide his head right to your entrance so you can sink when you’re ready.

When you descend, an immediate whine feels the air. He still fit perfectly from earlier and the sensitivity had tripled.

“Fuck,” you curse, wrapping yourself around him again. He holds you close.

“Feel good?”

You nod, and he throbs inside at the same time. He kisses you again, making sure to uphold you through your fatigue. Helping those in need was his job after all.

His right hand that covers your lower back loosens so that your weight inches backwards, then it pulls you right back in until you’re pressed against each other.

He groans with pleasure. The vibrations move to your lips that kiss him like he’s the last man on Earth.

And then he does it again, and again, until your head is simply resting on your own shoulder with your arms encircling his neck, water rushing down your hair and back. Your eyes are completely closed as he cradles you, erotic whines, whimpers, and moans falling from your lips into his ear.

Your slick walls drag up and down his skin. He moves so easily in and out that he can feel the outline of where his head usually reaches—the little space left. He was nowhere near as deep right now, but he is sure with the slight bend of his knees, he could have you screaming how you were for the hours before this.

And funnily enough, he doesn’t want you screaming at the moment. It’s something previous Bakugou would never say; not rock hard and needing to be balls deep in you quick Bakugou, at least.

You were worn out and tired, your body unable to take his usual pace. He’s almost 90% sure if he lifted you off the ground, you’d comply and hold on tighter, but he’s not going to push you that far. Not when he’s content like this, caressing your beautiful, dripping figure as you cry his name.

“Mmghn, that feels s-so good.” You speak, just above a whisper. And somehow, he can still hear you over the water and small splash of you both meeting in the middle. It’s like his brain is wired. No matter what, he’ll always be able to hear you.

He nods and kisses the side of your head again, keeping stable and consistently moving with minimal effort. The underside of your right knee is now resting in his elbow, so his hand can hold your waist and pull most of your weight that way instead of trying to push your whole body with just your thigh. At some point, you began helping him out.

“Keep moving your hips just like that, I got you.”

You groan at the instruction, and he chuckles heartily. Love poured from him and into you, making you feel more safe and secure than ever.

It didn’t take long until warmth gathered in your core with your clit dragging back and forth along his cock. He occasionally grunts and has to fix position to keep himself from spilling inside, not before you do first.

He can’t explain the relief he has when you insist that you’re gonna come soon in the form of a warning. It builds with each “thrust” and being so close to him as he carries you to climax.

“I’mna come,” you say again, more rushed this time, but muffled by his shoulder.

“I can feel it.” He responds, keeping pace. “Do you know what it feels like having you pulsing around me? Knowing you’re going straight into your sleep after?”

You shake your head.

“Hell, baby. Hell.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way: the only option you have on sleepless nights being him. When you tap his shoulder or rub yourself against him, knowing he’ll never say no. Hope could he? He takes great pride in being your melatonin.

And, without fail, you fall into a perfect deep sleep, his cum still dripping into or out of you. It’s never there in the morning, and he loves that the only way it will happen is if he wears you out.

“Kattt…” You toss your head back, a low rumble in your throat that you only make when you’re on the verge of completely losing it. He attacks your neck again, letting your body naturally bounce off him and come back.

“Let yourself feel it. Let me take you there,” he encourages gruffly, nipping at your ear.

“Agh, fuck,” you nearly sob, digging yourself further into him somehow.

His eyes shut, a wave of clarity rushing over him. It’s you, his woman, his everything, needing him. He thought he knew what he wanted early in life. He knew he wanted to be desired by others in multiple ways, the best at everything. God, how wrong he was.

Now he wants to be the best at everything for you. Because you deserve nothing less. He doesn’t want to be desired by anyone else but you, because you carry all the validation he could possibly gain dopamine from. Nothing compares to you being completely and utterly dependent on him, clinging to him for dear life.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he spouts, not bothering to stop or care about being sappy. He loves to hear you whine in response, only to finally come up with a few words. Clearly you got the cheesy feeling too.

“L-Love you, Kats.”

He bushels the hair at the bottom of your head with a grunt, tilting your nose up to him. He lets his lips kiss you passionately first, then he pulls away, but obviously not too far since you’re still nose to nose. Your eyebrows are upturned in that sensual expression he loves.

His deep, crimson eyes flicker to your puffy lips, a sign of the night, and land on your pretty damp eyelashes. He was breathless and stern.

“Don’t look away. Keep your eyes on me, or I’ll stop.”

You blink, registering his words with the shake of your head. “Don’t stop,” you plead.

He calls your name, and it’s enough to know he’s being dead serious. Both his grips tighten, mainly the one in your hair, and you don’t know if it’s water dripping down your cheeks or a tear or two.

You can feel your bottom leg beginning to shake, and the heat get to your head.

You shut your eyes instinctively, “K—”

“I’ve got you, don’t even think about it. Look at me.”

Your eyes shoot open in remembrance of his words as he leaves and reenters you again with increased speed, the sound when you slap together even louder. He holds your head in place. “I love you more, baby. More than you can ever dream.”

You watch his eyes and they say everything you can’t, everything he can’t, and that alone is enough to send you over the edge.

Your jaw drops and you literally begin shaking, not caring that all the strength you had left went into your orgasm. Your head pounds with the stream of the shower and fatigue, and your hands begin to slip at his neck, but you don’t even care. You know he’s got you. He said it himself.

“Shit,” he hisses, your orgasm expected, but the power of it not. He almost missed the fact that you were gushing around him by mistaking it as the water, the countless times you’d done this before catching up to you. He keeps thrusting his hips forward and whispering you praises. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

You are sobbing now, real tears as he stills and twitches inside. He holds the promise he made to you since you did the same. He keeps his eyes focused on you, even as white spurts paint your insides, and puts his swollen lips on yours. Through your gasps, you couldn’t kiss him back, so he bites your bottom one instead.

It isn’t until you lose your footing and go limp against him that he bends to pick you up and lower your leg gently. You’re still jerking slightly, your muscles overworked, and the last of his release lands somewhere on your thighs as your back is arched away from him.

Before you can say anything or even think about it, he holds you upright and bends down to kiss you with all he has left, now that you’re somewhat here. When it’s over, you fall against him completely.

The rest is a blur, and the next time you know what’s happening, you’re tangled together in the unused guest bedroom.

©️ hxltic

Katsuki never liked not be the first to pull away from a kiss.

Correction, he probably hates it. If you were to read his thoughts, he dispises the thought of not being the first to pull away. And no, as competitive as he was, this wasn't about being the 'first'.

It was probably the little paranoia in him at that feared if his partner was the first one to pull away he was never gonna get the moment back. What if he messed up? Was he too much? Did he hurt them?

The endless doubt would plague his word for days if not weeks, so the safer route for him has always been to be the first one to pull away.

And in the handful people he's kissed in his life so far, he's been successfully being the first to pull away each time. Until this time when you do.

Frozen in his place, katsuki looked at you with worry etched on his face which was only subtly different from his usually scowl. Staring at you blankly while you pant softly to catch your breath. Sure, katsuki had gone a little overboard this time, pushing it a little as he made out with you, ignoring his lungs burning for oxygen in favour of his aching heart which only begging to make the moment last.

When you did pull away, your lungs being no competition for the young pro-hero's lungs, Katsuki thought to himself that was it. He's lost the moment and probably never getting another chance to kiss you, all because of his momentary greed.

However when you broke out a in a little smile, your forehead resting on his each, eyes closed like this was the most content you had been, katsuki breathes again. All his thoughts going mush at the gentleness of your actions.

"Huh, so this is what love is like?" Lingered a single thought

bf! katsuki trying to convince his girlfriend to go on a date with him but you're lazy.

you were stretched out on the couch, lazily scrolling through your phone as the sun began to set.

meanwhile, katsuki was pacing in the living room, looking restless. he had been talking for the past ten minutes about going out to a new restaurant in town, but you weren't really interested.

you were perfectly content in his shirt, wrapped in the comfort of your blanket, and enjoying the quiet.

"sweets, you seriously don't wanna go out tonight?" katsuki asked, his eyebrow raised in a way that made it obvious he wasn't pleased with the lack of enthusiasm.

you glanced up at him, blinking, trying not to show how amused you are to see him like this. "maybe. kind of like it here. it's cozy, y'know?"

katsuki let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. he can't go out alone. it was gonna be boring for him. not to mention annoying. since you were the one that kept the paparazzi at bay, so his ranks don't go too down. "just go out with me for once, woman, goddamn."

"aww, katsuki. how about this—if you pay me $500, i'll go out with you. how about that?"

you grinned, thinking: surely, you'll just stay here the whole night. watch him sulk a bit more before he cuddles up to you, have the same leftovers, maybe some sex. it was gonna be a boring, but easy night.

but clearly, you were wrong.

katsuki blinked, his face unreadable for a moment. then, without missing a beat, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a crisp stack of bills, handing you exactly $500.

your eyes went wide, jaw nearly hitting the floor. "what—wait! katsuki, i was joking! i didn’t actually expect you to—" you fumbled with the money in your hands, feeling a sudden rush of panic.

"i knew you were joking, idiot. but you said you’d go with me if i gave you the money," katsuki’s expression didn’t change. his tone was casual, like it was no big deal. "now quit being lazy and get ready for our date, sweets."

your brain short-circuited for a moment, scrambling to come up with some way to backtrack. "n-no, i was kidding! seriously, i didn't think you'd actually—"

you tried to shove the money back into his hands, but katsuki just shook his head with a small smirk, gently pushing the money back to you, holding your hand. "a deal’s a deal, sweets. don't back out now. thought you were better than that."

your cheeks flushed as you start to realize how serious he was. "this is insane! katsuki, i can't take this! i wasn’t serious! i was just trying to make a joke!"

"you said $500, didn't you?" katsuki said with a smug grin. he leaned back into the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. "its nothing. but, jokes aside, i’m still waiting for you to get ready."

you stared at the money in your hands, still unsure how to handle the situation. but you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"oh my god, fine," you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "why do you wanna go on that date so badly?"

"tch, what can I say? i enjoy your company. even if you are lazy," he reached out to ruffle your hair, enjoying the way it disheveled under his touch. "besides, i've been wanting to take you somewhere nice for a while now."

you raise an eyebrow, tilting your head to one side. "really? why? we don't even have any special dates this month or anything."

katsuki rolled his eyes, as if the answer was obvious. his hand crawls to yours again, intertwining his fingers with yours. "because maybe.. i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."

he sat up from the couch, squeezing your hand, gesturing you to follow him. "now, get your ass movin' before i have to drag you. wanna see you in that new dress i bought."

you sigh in exasperation, standing up, letting him lead you to the bedroom to change. "why do i even bother... you're just gonna rip it off of me anyway.."

"oh, you're adorable. its like you know me so well." he pulled you closer, pressing your against his body, his hand trailing up your back.

"now c'mere," he whispered, before leaning down to kiss your neck. "lemme help you get this off," he murmurs, spoiling your neck with open-mouthed kisses, his fingers tracing along your waist.

you chuckled, your breath hitching at his touch. "so long as i help you too..." you drawled, your hands drifting beneath his shirt.

"cheeky little brat," he scoffs, moving his lips to her jawline, holding onto the hem of your shirt, slowly yanking it up.

"you gonna be good for me, sweets?"

"mhm..."

"good."

and as painful as it was for katsuki, you did stay good. all you did was help each other out of your clothes. maybe sneaked in a few kisses here and there but didn't fool around, eventually dressing up into something formal before leaving.

and, yes. after treating you to one of the best dinners you've ever had, katsuki did rip off your dress. and made sure to remind you that he was the only one you were ever going on dates with.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ wrote this up bc im rotting in bed lmaolmao also what do you guys feel about bridgerton au with katsuki... 🧍🏻‍♀️

MY REPUTATIONS NEVER BEEN WORSE, SO

katsuki bakugou x reader

how he’d treat you in a relationship

same concept as the todoroki, kirishima, shinso, izuku, touya ver.

inspired by delicate

katsuki bakugou, who’s got a reputation. who is a harsh, abrasive asshole. who is known for his temper, and for his power. who knows that being with him isn’t for the best. who knows that anyone who wants to be with him has to like him for him.

katsuki bakugou, who almost always texts you at night. who makes your phone light up through the black, daring you talk to him. who is actually so funny and considerate, but would never let anyone know that. who will absolutely not go to sleep without texting you goodnight.

katsuki bakugou, who struggles to make promises with you. who, for once in his life, isn’t fully sure of himself. who prefers to live day by day with you. who isn’t sure if he can give you forever, but who will make you a drink and take care of you after. who slowly learns that forever is loving you day by day.

katsuki bakugou, who, though he’d never in a million years admit it, is insecure. who, behind his gruff features and anger-induced explosions, questions himself. who wonders if its okay that he bought you two concert tickets two months into your relationship, of if its chill that you’re in his head.

katsuki bakugou, who is so handsome- and he doesn’t even realize it. who wears beat up nikes and dark blue to see you. who prefers those private dates, the ones where he can love you in secret. who is a mansion with a view, with a key only you own. who loves the way your face lights up when he finally surprises you with flowers or chocolate. who thinks its dumb, but chases that high forever.

katsuki bakugou, who touches you like no one else. who knows you’re the only girl that could possibly bring him to his knees like this. who spends long nights with your hands in his hair. who wants to stay with you, and doesn’t wanna share.

katsuki bakugou, who is still an asshole despite being loving and caring. who calls you idiot, and dumbass, while he picks you up and carries you to the couch so you can cuddle. who, despite popular belief, is really sweet when he helps you study. who hides a smirk whenever he sees you succeed. who sometimes teaches you the wrong thing so you’ll come back and ask him to explain it again.

katsuki bakugou, who is made to be a caregiver. who loves cooking with you, reaching up to grab that book on the shelf you can’t reach. who insists on giving you his hoodie, because he never really gets cold. who secretly restocks your fridge for you and reminds you to eat something other than just cupped noodles. who shows he loves largely through actions.

katsuki bakugou, who loves back hugs. who always wraps his muscular arms around you whenever you’re doing anything, pressing his sweet lips just underneath your ear before whispering something to you. “i love you, idiot. move, i’ll help you with those dishes.”

katsuki bakugou, who learns that his reputation is just that- a reputation. its a perception of him, not who he really is. who wonders if you dream of him while you sleep the way he does. who pretends your his, all the damn time. who learns that he doesn’t have to pretend anymore.

katsuki bakugou, who you love for who he is. who is tough, and strong, and loves you delicately. who learns to promise you forever.

you and katsuki weren’t dating or anything, but it didn’t seem like the two of you were just friends either. maybe a secret third thing?

now that you think about it, you and katsuki were unusually close. but you’ve always just thought it was casual, right? just friendly things that friends do?

like, he’ll always find a way to touch you. if the two of you are walking through a crowded hallway at school, you’ll feel his hand resting on your back, just to keep you close as the crowd pushes through.

or sometimes, when the class goes on a field trip, he makes sure he gets to sit next to you.

you’ll immediately feel the warmth of his thigh pressing against yours as he plops down in the seat next to you, your shoulder brushing against each others.

“here,” katsuki says, shoving a protein bar into your hands. “i know ya’ didn’t eat anything yet, idiot.”

“thanks katsuki, how’d you know?” you ask him, opening it up.

he shrugs. “‘cause i pay attention. no big deal.”

you hummed in response as you gazed at the two of your legs still touching. katsuki didn’t seem to mind it at all. there was just something so domestic about it all. even when sometimes you’d lay your head on his shoulder, on purpose just to mess with him, it wouldn’t work because he always let you.

you and katsuki were laying on the couch in the common area together, and you suddenly decided to lean back on him, your back to his chest.

you expected for him to at least give you some attitude, since he never lets anyone touch him. you know he hates it. weirdly enough, he didn’t say anything. in fact, you felt him shift closer to you, getting comfortable.

“aw, you’re really not gonna push me away? thought you hated people touching you?”

he snaps, “whatever,” before draping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer.

everyone knows bakugou doesn’t have many people he would consider his friend. maybe except one person.

kirishima had been noticing how different his best friend had been acting, and he just had to bring it up.

“leave me alone, shitty hair”

“dude, you spend almost all of your time with her!”

“your point?”

“you like her.”

katsuki scoffs, “shut the hell up.”

“just saying, man.” kirishima nudges him, “its funny”

katsuki glared at him. “what’s fucking funny?”

kirishima gave him a look. “the way you act like it isn’t a thing.”

“you’re fucking annoying.”

“maybe. but im right, huh?” he teases.

he doesn’t answer right away, instead, he hesitates and scoffs.

“that wasnt a no.” kirishima smiles at him.

“i said, leave me alone.” katsuki says before storming off.

the next day, it was rainy after school, and of course katsuki was waiting for you by the doors with an umbrella so the two of you could walk back to the dorms.

his face softens when he sees you, and he grabs your bag, tossing it over his shoulder like he always does, before opening the umbrella waiting for you to step under it.

“took ya’ long enough,” he says as you two begin walking in the rain. “thought i was gonna be here waitin’ all day”

“you waited for me?”

“duh. knew you wouldn’t have an umbrella.” he shifts closer to you naturally, “and i always walk you back to your dorm don’t i?”

“yeah, but, dunno, it’s just kinda sweet.” you say softly.

he scoffs, “like i was gonna leave your dumbass.”

you nod and feel your heart jump at his words. was this casual? the thought of this possibly being something more had been eating at you all week, and you just had to speak up.

“y’know, people think we’re dating.”

he looks down at you, then grumbles, “so what?”

“what, you dont care? you’re not gonna.. i dunno, deny it?” you ask, gazing at him.

he just kind of pauses and shrugs, and you swear you notice a slight blush on his cheeks. “let ‘em think whatever they want.”

you blinked in surprise. really? was that it? no argument? before you could make any sense of it, or say anything back, he just grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, the touch unexpected, but so so familiar.

you didn’t end up saying anything else, and neither did he. the two of you just continued walking, hand in hand.

ᡣ𐭩

- completely inspired by this post!

“He, Who I Love.”

pairing: bakugo x gn! reader

tooth rotting fluff, no angst no smut!!

Katsuki is unafraid— fearless. At least that’s what he likes to believe. However, loving you? It shakes him to his core. His love for you ever so strong, so overwhelming— scares him just a little.

You notice in the way his usual rough hands became impossibly gentle and tremble ever so slightly when he touches you— caresses you. To him, touching you feels like touching something fragile. Something forbidden that only he is fortunate enough to have.

The way he holds you in his big, strong arms after a long day, or the way his forehead presses against yours as if you were his safe space. His haven.

To the world, Katsuki Bakugo is loud, brash, and certainly unrelenting. But you? You see a completely different side of him, one that’s solely meant for you and only you. It truly is a privilege to see his softer side. He is warm, steady, calming— the kind of love that makes you forget about all the worries in the world.

Because when Katsuki loves, he loves with everything—his heart, his soul, his body, and every unshakable piece of his mind.

Katsuki cried the first time he held his newborn daughter in his arms. His eyes watered when the nurses guided his hand under her head and adjusted her on his arm. He trembled as he brought her closer to him. He held her closed fist in his hand, amazed by how small her hand was compared to his. Little fingers curled around his index, and he wondered how something this unbelievably tiny could manage to grip his heart so tight in a matter of seconds. He sat on the chair behind him, holding his baby girl close to his chest and covered his eyes with a hand, bursting into tears.

Twisted my ankle this weekend and it made me think of how Katsuki would take over baby duties at the drop of a hat.

He’d all but force you to sit down, legs propped up with ice on your swollen appendage while he chases your toddler around.

He’d handle daycare pick up and drop off, dinner, play time, bath time, and made sure to reassure your worried baby that you’re fine, and you are awe struck when your toddler pulls out her doctor white coat and demands to take your temperature. You pretend you’re healed when you’re given a fat, slobbering kiss from your baby, laughing when they demand Katsuki to also give you a kiss, because more kisses mean more healing power- duh.

Katsuki doesn’t knock. He barges in.

It’s something you really don’t mind, though it’s also something that drives you up the wall because who knows what you could be doing on the other side of the wall, huh?

To which he rolls his eyes and grumbles out “I trust you enough to yell at me if you’re naked or hanging out with someone.”

Anyways.

Truly, you usually don’t mind when he barges in, but today, you’re fed up, you’re drained, you’re mad at the world and you’ve been locked alone for the past few hours, and the minute the door to your apartment swings open, you let out a snarl and glare at him from your sprawled position on the couch, the unwanted company walking himself in your home like he owns the place.

“Honey, I’m home,” he teases, kicking the door shut.

“Should’ve burned the building to the ground,” you growl, pulling the blankets higher on your shoulders. “You could’ve skipped a day to be the bane of my existence, you know.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ okay,” he chuckles. “I’ll skip a day when you do, babe.” He makes his way to the couch with a greasy bag in his hand, planting a soft kiss to your cheek and lifting your legs for him to scoot under.

“No offense,” you croak, not turning to look at him, “but why are you here?”

“You didn’t eat today,” he answers simply. “Didn’t like that, so I brought you food. What’re we watching?”

Your heart does pick up at the knowledge that he noticed (honestly, you even didn’t notice, you just thought you had a stomachache) but you refuse to give him the satisfaction. “There is no we, right now, Bakugou. I want to be alone.”

“‘Bakugou?’” He snickers, reaching into the bag, “oh. you’re sooo hangry. C’mere. Got your favorites.”

He reaches over to pull you up and next to him, and all you do is snap a quick “don’t touch me. And how did you know I didn’t eat today?” You don’t make any moves to actually stop him from pulling you up, and he takes it as a sign to keep going. He swings your legs over his lap, and you flash him a look that would kill him if they could.

“We spend every other fuckin’ waking minute together and you barely remember to eat, today you isolated yourself from the world and expect me to not know you didn’t? This ain’t my first day, dumbass.”

“Be your last if you don’t cut the shit.”

“Uh-huh,” he ignores, bringing a nugget to your lips. “Open.”

You blink lazily at him. He waits patiently.

“I don’t want a nugget.”

“I bought you a cheeseburger as well.”

“And you started with a nugget? The fuck you think this is?”

He laughs and drops the chicken in the bag, replacing it with a now unwrapped cheeseburger, small and processed looking, but the all too familiar smell makes your mouth water and your stomach growl. He brings it to your mouth again, but this time, you take a bite, forcing back the mewl of enjoyment that wants to slip past your lips.

“There’s my brat,” he says softly, resting his nose against your temple. “Fuckin’ hate when you pull shit like this, locking yourself away. Let me take care of your stupid ass.”

“I’m a grown ass adult,” you scold, muffled around the fast-food. “Can take care of myself.”

“But you don’t have to,” he says. “And you clearly were in a fucking mood today, and didn’t. So cut the shit and let me be there with you, idiot.”

His words, though firm, make your eyes water slightly, and you rest your head around his as you let him feed you the burger, your own hand pawing for fries every once in a while.

“You’re so whipped for me,” you say, breaking the silence.

“Watch your mouth,” he snaps. Then, he noses at your temple and soothes it with a kiss, “and I know you’d do the same for me… so… I got your back, babe.”

“Thank you, Katsuki,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder as he starts to bring the nuggets to your mouth.

“It’s fine,” he assures. Then, you hear his voice drop, “you ever call me Bakugou in anger again, I’ll shit on your bed.”

This, finally, makes you cackle aloud, mouth full of food and head tossing back against the couch. Even if you can’t see it, you know his own mouth is stretched in a smirk, the dynamics of your relationship finally starting to fall back into place.

inspired by this past-fandom post here 🧡

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝐺𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒

ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᴮᵃᵏᵘᵍᵒ'ᵈ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ·

Bakugo isn’t the type of boyfriend who chases after you right after a fight. He’s not one to apologize immediately or keep sending messages non-stop. He’s like a contained fire, wrapped up in his own pride, and when a fight breaks out, his first move is to pull away.

So, he locks himself in the gym, as usual. He punches the bag with all his anger, lifts weights like he’s trying to crush the frustration building up inside him. He runs, jumps, trains, trains, and trains until his muscles are screaming. For those first few hours, he manages to shut down the voice in his head that keeps calling your name. But that peace? It doesn’t last. It never does.

By the time it’s around 7:00 p.m. and the sky’s painted with a red hue, guilt hits him. He remembers everything he said, how he said it, and the way you looked when it all ended. “Damn it…” he mutters to himself, clenching his fists. He wonders if he went too far. If he really had to say all that. He realizes it might’ve been a stupid thing to do.

Before he can think it through, he’s already heading out to find you. It wasn’t planned. He’s not overthinking it. He just moves, almost like his feet know the way better than his mind.

And that’s when he stops thinking so much and listens to his heart instead.

When he finally sees you, he doesn’t rush. He walks over with purpose, that usual scowl on his face—the one you’ve learned to read. He’s not mad. He’s just tense. He reaches out and grabs your wrist—not roughly, but firm enough to stop you from pulling away before he can speak.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice rougher than usual, but softer than you'd expect. It’s forced, like he’s not used to being gentle, but for you, he’s willing to try.

Then he looks you in the eyes. You’re probably still pissed, but when it comes to you, he’s ready to own up to his mistakes.

Only with you.

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

• MASTERLIST

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, lounging on the couch with a small, fond smile tugging at his lips as he watches you waddle around, the little furrow between your brows making you look both adorable and determined.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, calling out to you as you head toward the kitchen, urging you to sit down and take it easy, wanting you to relax and let him handle things.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, chuckling softly as you stubbornly shake your head, firmly insisting that you need to get the chores done despite his protests.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, his heart swelling as he watches you walk over to the couch, duster in one hand, your other hand resting gently on your back for support, clearly determined to keep going.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, a grin spreading across his face as he sees you struggle to bend down to pick up a stray piece of clothing from the floor, your pregnant belly making simple tasks a little harder.

Husband! Bakugou Katsuki, beginning to rise from the couch, ready to help, only for you to hold up your hand firmly, pointing him back down, not allowing him to lift a finger.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, feeling nothing but pride as he watches your determination and stubbornness lead you through your cleaning, admiring your strength and resolve.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, scooting closer to you as you finally settle onto the couch next to him, folding clothes with quiet focus, his gaze never leaving you.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, his mind already racing with thoughts of having another child with you once your first is born, the image of you full and warm with his child making his heart flutter and his thoughts run wild.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, massaging your shoulders as you hum contentedly, folding the last of the clothes, the soft warmth of your body and the peace in the moment making his heart ache with love.

Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, an absolute pervert when it comes to the sight of his pregnant wife, you—completely and utterly obsessed with every curve and detail of your beautiful, expecting body.

uggghhh i jst loovvve husband Katsuki and his pregnant wife 🥲

katsuki who loves nose kisses btw. who's been innocently doing them with you ever since he was small and who still does them now. it's basically a reflex. whenever you're worried for him, or he has to go off somewhere, he presses his forehead to yours. who looks you straight in the eyes with an unspoken promise to be safe. he nods, smushing his nose to yours and nuzzling it softly, almost shyly. and then he's gone again, cheek, ears and nose completely pink.

Bakugou Katsuki, who absentmindedly starts touching you at random.

Like, you’ll be lounging on your bed, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok while Katsuki watches a game on TV, and suddenly, you feel his hands gently massaging your feet. And honestly, this man is incredible with his hands. (😉)

Or imagine this: you're standing in front of the mirror in your closet, calmly putting on your jewelry when he walks up from behind, already finished. His eyes lock onto yours, and before you know it, you feel his hands slide onto your hips. You smile as you feel him squeezing the softness of them, and jokingly push him back so you can grab your shoes. He still follows you around tho with his hands still firmly resting on your hips.

Or maybe you’re just lying on the couch with him, your head resting on his chest as you slowly drift off to sleep. You don’t remember when you fell asleep, but you wake up to the sound of Katsuki's phone as he scrolls through it, and the feeling of his hands gently cradling the back of your neck. His fingers slowly move upward, absentmindedly massaging your scalp and nape while he watches boxing matches.

Ugggghhhh, or what about when you’re cooking dinner for the two of you? You’re standing at the stove, switching between seasoning one pot and checking on another, when you hear Katsuki walk up behind you. He asks if you need help, but you shake your head and smile at him, reassuring him he can just relax. Instead of walking away, though, he sighs dramatically and leans his whole weight onto your back, his hands wrapping around your waist.

"Kats careful I'm gonna burn myself."

"My bad mama."

So, he leans back and rests his head on your shoulder, just watching you cook. His hands move up and down your arms, and whenever you shift to do something, he starts rubbing your side instead.

Katsuki has a degree in being touch-starved, and he doesn't even realise it. But you? You absolutely love it.

katsuki is the type of guy to always want you nestled against him, which includes having you seated on his lap, a warm hand heavy on your thigh.

he’s constantly pulling you onto his lap, hands reaching out to drag your hips forward almost by reflex at this point. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing—if you’re anywhere near him and he’s seated, his hands will automatically settle around your waist to drag you towards him. once you’re seated, he drags a hand to the thick expanse of your thigh.

(it’s borderline possessive, the way his warm hand settles on the expanse of your skin, fingers unconsciously tapping out a beat)

and for a while, his warm hands are always silently reminding you where to sit, but the first time you automatically sit without being pulled, he nearly purrs in delight. he nestles his face into the junction between your shoulder and neck, pressing a searing kiss there before lifting your hair out of the way to press a long line of open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck.

dandelion ──★ ˙🍓 ̟

katsuki’s lips intoxicated you instantly. his head filled with prayers of thanks to whoever planted you on this earth for him— at least he’d like to believe you’re here for him. simply because, you were absolutely perfect and katsuki couldn’t think of anything that would please him more than kissing you over and over again.

it was odd how utterly unromantic katsuki was, yet with you, his heart filled with so much love and care for a mere human being.

but you weren’t a mere human being, you were katsuki’s. his quiet sunrise over still water— soft, unhurried, and endless, making him pause, every time his gaze lands on you, just to soak in your presence. he thinks that’s why he’s so in love with you— you slow down time for him, you make him so much more peaceful and tranquil, to the point where it, absolutely, overwhelms him.

and kissing you only strengthened his hold onto you, both metaphorically and physically, his accustomed hands trailing under your blouse. the concept of someone being so special to him (and vice versa) was a foreign thought in his head— it fulfilled his unknown wish of being familiar with someone.

as your teeth grazes his lower lip, katsuki believes he'll never get bored of you— always catching him off guard at just the right moments, where it drove him, absolutely, insane.

because, yes, you were delicate and flimsy, which led him to, often, overlook your natural resilient nature, that he recalls as of now.

and, in what world, could katsuki ask for more?

he’s sure to keep you with him forever.

'My Hero Academia: You're Next' - OVA Short: 'A Piece of Cake' [English Subtitles]

##/ there goes my baby; katsuki bakugou

litch small drabble to help me get back about bakugo liking to stare at you

katsuki always had his eyes on you, you could be doing the most mundane things on earth and his eyes would still never leave you - that was how everyone could tell he had feelings for you, no matter how much he denies it.

because, honestly? he didn’t even notice he was looking at you.

it was so natural, innate even. he just gravitated towards you, because you had the power to dazzle anything and make it you.

and you were special, gorgeous, amazing, beautiful and whatever other adjectives he could learn to call you.

it was weird, it’s like he felt proud to even know you, that you can call his name like a sirens call and summon him at your beck and call (because he truly would do anything you asked him to).

so yeah, maybe katsuki had a little staring problem.

it’s not like you don’t notice, you always do and you love it.

ordinary things ──★ ˙🍓 ̟

no one ever trusted katsuki - not fully anyways. i mean, how could anyone? he fired up quickly, and made rash decision out of pure anger. katsuki didn’t even trust himself, he knew how he was and it, honestly, scared him.

that is - until you came along.

from the moment katsuki met you, he couldn’t get your sickly, kind attitude out of his head. some people would call your viewpoint naïve and stupid and blah blah blah (real footage from katsuki's head) whereas, katsuki saw it as his guardian angel. you led him to a path where he did have faith in himself, because you did.

he almost felt lucky to have you— fuck that, he was lucky. especially now, with your body waiting for him to take care of you, just like he often does.

low snores escaped your body and katsuki snorts, kneeling down in front of you, to slip your fingers away from the book that you were previously reading. his hand moves to your hair that cascades over your face, while giving you lightest peck known to mankind.

that wakes you up instantly, your lashes fluttering and heart beating from the mere smell of him.

“’suki? when’d you get home?” you try to sit up, before his hands stop you.

“just now - go back to bed,” you hum in satisfaction at that “i’ll get you to bed, m’kay?” a slow and drooling nod answers him.

and, just like that, something that would be so ordinary to anyone else, feels so special to katsuki. the fact that you let him look after you in such a vulnerable way, that you have this much trust in him, as you let him take your clothes off, so you can wear something more comfortable, never fails to amaze him.

after all, no one has ever had so much belief in him like you did.

First time makin out with Bakugo.

suggestive!!

Ur laying down, splayed on top of him, but who can say anything about it? You saw the black tee and sweatpants combo he flaunts while he was casually making food in the kitchen. You’d practically jumped him.

But he didn’t mind; his temper deteriorates later into the night, so the only thing he can feel right now is your fingers wrapped around his neck and your lips slowly dancing against his. Not that he had much of a temper around you anyway.

He groans satisfactorily in the back of his throat. The pads of his fingers creep up the thighs sat on either side of his hips and trickle just under the fabric of your shorts. There was no point getting under the covers of the dark bedroom, the only light came from a candle on the dresser from sometime earlier when you were cleaning, and the only sounds emanated from you two.

That moment he gently tugs your lip between his teeth, just to release it and grin tiredly when you hum in response. At the same time, you shift above him, turning your head into a deeper kiss.

His lips are so soft. They move perfectly against yours, molding like they were made for each other. He looks so content like this, sharing a sultry kiss with you, his body completely relaxed. Mostly.

Your tongue slips out to meet with his as if it had been done a billion times. His touch sends fire through your skin, and with each movement he gets even closer, your heart feels like it’s about to pound through your ribs; however, despite how it appears to be, he is in the same breathless boat. Your hand only disconnects from him to brush the falling tendrils of hair behind your ear.

There was a hardness growing beneath you that made your heart beat ten times faster, but nothing was done about it. He ignored it—instead trailing one of his palms up and down the span of your back while the other reaches a little further.

His brows furrow a bit when he inquires as softly as possible, in his gruff voice, “You’re not wearin’ anything under these tiny shorts?”

You dip your head back to his lips, taking them in sensually. Of course, he returns it, but the question is left in the air. Your mouth leaves his so you can leave slow, needy kisses along his jaw that gradually cover his neck, and when you come back up, the answer is given as a whisper. “Hmm…thong.”

He blinks open his orbs swimming with fire and a glint of amusement. The hand on your back then moves to your nape so he can tug you down to him, already feeling the withdrawal of your taste. Simultaneously, his fingers inch all the way up until he can feel the garment himself.

He effortlessly slips his finger under the thin string and lifts it until he can’t anymore so that it delicately snaps back into place. His tongue soars deeper into yours when you react with a small gasp.

He smiles with a low sound deep in his chest, “Seems like you want somethin’ from me.”

“I do,” you breathe. “Didn’t wear it for nothing.”

It’s then he rolls over, taking you with him onto your back.

©️hxltic

childhood friends to lovers w bkg where you used to playfight all the time but the older you get the less you do it because when bkg pins you down and looks down at you like “you lose” it gives you the most terrible butterflies

Bakugou Katsuki feels love with his eyes. 

It’s no longer summer, this much is obvious. The whole world gets dark around 7 now, and the trees are that shade of yellow that don’t look quite right. It’s colder than it is hot. The world is going to sleep, that tired feeling soaking into everyones bones. It’s coming to a soft close. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s gotten time alone with you, but you caught him just after his shift. He’s still in his costume, minus his gauntlets. His mask is pulled back over his forehead and his makeup is smudged around the corners and you’re wearing a jacket two sizes too big. It swallows you, and your hands are in your pockets. You haven’t really said a word to each other. 

“I missed you,” you tell him, quiet. A gust of wind passes as if to carry your words a little farther than you intend. His eyes go wide and he’s unsure of what to say or do. He stops a little, then walks again. His eyes go soft. A carmine glow that gets lost when he blinks. You think he looks lonely when he blinks. 

“..Missed you too, dipshit,” 

You laugh, but it comes out like a snort. The sound makes his chest ache, just a little. In the same way that autumn does. 

“Wow.. how romantic,” 

He blushes a little, and there’s a smile again. It’s uncontrollable, makes the muscles in his face stiff when he tries to suppress. He’s afraid of what’ll happen when you see how happy you always make him, so he turns away. 

“Shut up,” 

You reach for his hand, and he takes it - his fingers thread with yours and blushes even more red. The sky goes golden and it lands on him. He’s all warm. All October colors and hometown memories and heroism, your hero. He grabs your hand and tugs you a little closer but can’t meet your eyes. You wonder why he won’t look at you for a moment but get caught up in the way his thumb draws circles in the back of your palms. 

The air between the two of you gets caught in this sticky web and you can hear him clear his throat. It’s quiet for a moment too long, and you think he’s gonna say something. You really don’t know what. 

“…..I was hoping..you’d see me again.. or whatever,” he coughs a little afterwards and you pause. He turns to you, unsure and you see it when you see his face. That little look in his eyes. All pointy edges and sharp gazes gone sugar sweet. All soft blinks. All the love he feels for you, he must keep in his eyes. Everytime he blinks you can feel it as clear as the wind on your skin. How many time can he say i love you just by looking. 

You lean forward, wrapping your hand around his neck, and dragging him to you. You kiss him slow and he tastes like a work-day, like exhaustion. He tastes like home and he’s stiff at first but not for long. Not long until gloved hands wrap around your waist and drag you to him. 

“I was hoping to see you again, too,” 

The afternoon was quiet, with the sun gently filtering through the window. You were sitting on the couch, with Bakugou lying face down on your legs, his head resting against your belly.

—This doesn't mean anything…— he murmured with his eyes closed as you absentmindedly played with his hair.

You smiled without saying anything, letting your fingers slide through his blonde locks. He growled lowly, but didn't move away, on the contrary, he seemed to settle better against you.

—Are you falling asleep? —You asked quietly.

—Shut up... it's just comfortable.

His tone was stubborn, but the slow pace of his breathing gave it away. His hand, which had previously rested at his side, moved to gently hold the fabric of your shirt, as if he was unintentionally seeking to make sure you were still there.

You continued to stroke his hair with a smile, and soon after, you felt his grip relax.

Bakugou had fallen asleep on your lap.

There's an unspoken rule that gets established early on in your relationship with Bakugo, one that he assumes you know after a few months together.

The rule in question? You need to kiss him three times before you leave his apartment; one for luck, one for the road, and one just because.

One day, you're in a rush to get out the door, running late for a lunch date with your friends. You're bouncing around his apartment to be sure you have everything — phone, keys, wallet — and place a quick kiss to his lips as you pass by him in the living room. "I'll be back in a few hours, love you!"

Bakugo grabs your wrist gently, tugging you back toward him with a pout on his face. "Nuh uh, c'mere." He pulls you over his lap, cradling you while tilting your chin up to face him. "You're askin' for trouble if you think we're done here, sweets."

You blink at him in confusion. He rolls his eyes, no actual annoyance behind it, and shakes his head. "Ya only gave me one kiss, you know better than that."

"Oh, so I owe you—"

"Damn right you do," he cuts you off with a cocky little smirk that he's too good at doing. "Three — no ifs, ands or buts. And mean it, none'a those quick bullshit pecks, real kisses."

Of course, what were you thinking? You lean forward and press the first kiss to his lips, soft and gentle. "One," you whispers before following up with two more, slow and purposeful. "Two and three."

"Much better," Bakugo whispers with a genuine smile. He lets you get back to your feet, a large palm on the small of your back to support you. He pats the back of your thigh once you're steady. "Love you too. Have fun with the girls, but not too much fun. Don't wanna chase ya down the sidewalk again after you down 4 mimosa pitchers to yourselves."

three kisses from him would cure my depression at this point, chat.