Nothing Will Ever Make Me Feel Crazier Than Tongue Kissing. Sorry

Friends with benefits with Bakugou, but with a bit lies of angst, you want it to be more, even slightly more than what you get would suffice, but Bakugou, he regrets whatever you too already have going on, wishes he could go back in time and stop himself from every starting this arrangement.

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝐻𝐸 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸𝒮 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝐸𝒴𝐸𝒮 ؛ 𝓀𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓀𝒾 𝒷𝒶𝓀𝓊𝑔𝑜𝓊

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ just some profanity

You both sit, flicking mindlessly over the burning screen of the television with his arm draped comfortably over the back of your shoulders, is thumb stroking over the skin there. You acknowledge his involuntary display of affection, turning to look up at him with a dopey grin.

“Quit lookin’ at me like that.” He grumbles, not even bothering to direct his attention towards you as he pours over the colourful screen. The soft, blue light laying over his sharp features wonderfully.

You giggle. “Like what?”

“You know what.” He glances your way this time, slightly pivoting his head to look at you with slitted and heavy eyes.

“I’m not doing anything!”

He scoffs amusedly, adjusting his hips against the cushioned seat so he can lean closer to you, his bicep coming to bend around your neck as he traps your chubby cheeks between his thumb and forefingers. “Lookin’ at me with those eyes.” He huffs.

You give him a bemused smirk, tilting your head in his palm “How else ‘m I supposed to look at you?”

He chuckles at your reply, warm air blowing from his nose as he arches closer down towards your face. “Those pretty fuckin’ eyes..”

You thump his chest bashfully, a sweet smile threatening display. “They’re just my eyes, nothing special.”

He all but hums at your humble response, still and quiet as he stares at your flickering lashes before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Turning back to the screen, muttering.

“My baby’s pretty fuckin’ eyes.”

i don't know how to explain this. it's like bakugou's love chub. his primitive cute aggression. his massive domesticity kink. but it's also a praise thing. it's all of it.

but i think — it's just another night that's allowed katsuki to be home with you. cooking dinner, cleaning up, maybe you're both even in the mood to shower together; you wash his hair and spike it up with shampoo and he smiles a little when you laugh, with your wet eyelashes and soapy head and you just kind of — play.

it softens him up a ridiculous amount, and later when you're in bed with your ankles on his shoulders, smelling like his body-wash, he literally has to focus on keeping himself together just to last. hides in your neck with his face all scrunched up, goosebumps breaking out across his skin every time you moan softly in his ear. you whisper his name and he has to stop the rhythm of his hips, just to breathe through his nose and calm down because he is so in love with you that it makes him sick.

everything is perfect until the phone rings.

and he's been in a good mood all night. hasn't been thinking about work, any of the investigations he's gonna have to dig into when he goes back. deku is out of his hair for once, he's not too sore from hitting the gym with kirishima earlier. all he wants is just this evening with you and — he refuses to let it go, at first.

your hands on his shoulders lighten enough that he digs his fingers into your hips, pulls you in to meet his every thrust a little harder. it has him hitting a soft spot deep inside of you that makes your knees shake, and you angle your head a certain way so that he can see the wanton expression on your face, the drop of your mouth as you keen.

some of his surliness has woken up and he can feel it creeping up his spine, pushing him out of his head a little bit, and though he's thankful it'll give him the grip he needs to last — especially as he watches your eyes roll back — it's pissing him off, to be interrupted. fuck the phone, he thinks, fuck everybody—

and then it rings again.

your eyes snap open, and katsuki can feel the moment shatter. bitterly, at least for him; you don't look mad, sympathetic more than anything, with the small curve of your smile as you peer up at him. your change in demeanor feels final, and he sits back up on his knees with a fucking irritated groan, from deep in his chest.

you laugh, even though he's grumbling out every curse word he's ever learned. "it might be important!"

"don't fuckin' care," the number on the caller id is unknown, and he scowls as he looks down at it. scowls even harder when you try to sit up, too, when you try to wiggle away. in order to keep you, he secures his arm around your waist and rolls, sitting back up against the pillows with you straddling his lap.

you squeal and laugh, tightening up around him enough that he grunts out a strained gasp — and then you're laughing again. and this is not how he wanted this to go.

katsuki answers the call like, "what?" and there's a defeaning silence on the other end, like he's frightened them — and he fucking hopes he has — and it draws on so long that he's about to hang up, until some pre-recorded voice chimes in about his car's extended warranty. "are you fucking kidding me!"

you laugh again, real and loud this time as he tosses the stupid thing half-way across the room.

"oh my—katsuki, that was so—"

"fuckin' bullshit ass fuckin' interrupting me 'n—" everything burns: his ears and his face and his neck, and he knows you're not laughing at him, but he doesn't want you smiling like that.

no, he wants you with your head thrown back and your throat bared, and sometimes he's able to angle it so that these little tears come to your eyes and it's so. fucking—drives him insane, that he's the one that's—

"okay, okay," you cup his face in your hands until he frowns at you, and then you give him several tiny kisses that taste like pity. "where were we?"

and just because this bullshit had to happen, he grabs you by the hips a little roughly, too eager to get back to where you were before, and he knows it's much deeper at this angle, with you on top of him, and hearing the strangled little moan that comes spilling out of you — makes it a little better.

your arms go around his neck immediately, fingers digging into his hair in a way that knocks some of his annoyance out. the sharp tug, the sting on his scalp grounds him a little bit; katsuki gasps and it's all you, with his mouth against your throat, breathing in nothing but you. he can feel the change when you take over, helping yourself to dropping down onto him with an intensity that makes you both groan.

the whole disturbance has almost completely left him; you're warm and wet, slick in a way that makes his eyes roll back, and he can tell by the shake of your shoulders that you're taken by how deep he's reaching inside you.

and then you — fucking giggle again.

katsuki groans, screwing his face up. "quit it," he mumbles into your neck. "'so fuckin' funny?"

"nothing, nothing," but a smile is evident in your voice, broken only by a desperate little curse that makes his stomach drop. "i just—ah, fuck, katsuki—i just love you."

the tension in his balls almost snaps at that; how soft you say his name, how easy you are with your feelings—for him, for him—how happy you sound. doesn't necessarily make him gasp, but he releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding and wraps his arms around you. tugs you closer under your chest is against his, panting against one another.

katsuki's not typically a talker, besides numerous curses and the warning when he's gonna cum; it makes him shy in a way he can't explain, like he's gonna say the wrong thing and turn you off.

but now—

he doesn't mean to, really, but he grips you tightly, puts his mouth to your ear, and let's himself moan quietly. "yeah?"

"yeah," your voice goes up an octave, nearly a whine, and you jerk in his lap haphazardly, like you're so lost to the feeling of him inside of you that you can't think straight. "yeah, fuck—you—" another laugh, though this time it makes his heart throb. how genuine it is. "you're so funny sometimes, you—always make me laugh."

makes you laugh, and not because he's an embarrassment or a failure or an idiot, but because you think he's funny. because he lights something up inside you that makes you smile with all your teeth, that makes you so happy that you have to let it out.

very minutely, so small that you don't even notice, katsuki shakes his head a bit. almost like a nuzzle into you, but he's just—bad at handling this stuff. it's makes his head spin, cotton between his ears, a taut string in his stomach.

you thread your fingers through his hair, nails against his scalp, and tilt his head up. you don't kiss him, but your mouth is open over his, lips touching. it's such a fucking tease, but he can see the blissed out look on your face, can feel you fluttering around him.

"you're—my best friend, y'know?"

it actually makes him moan—loud, and he has to pull away from you a little bit just to blink. something builds in his chest so rapidly, he thinks he might drown. the back of his eyes sting, like he's gonna fucking cry.

"fuck—" he stutters, fighting his best not to slip too far. "f-fuck, wait—"

but it's useless; you always swallow him whole.

"you're—" you sigh against him, so content and safe and comfortable, right here in his arms. "wouldn't want to be with anyone else."

in the future, katsuki's gonna look back on this and feel pathetic: how hard he's trying to buck up into you, even if it is throwing your rhythm off; how severely his back curls into you; how hard he cums—just from you being so soft on him.

it's like his brain disconnects from the stem entirely, rocketing him into limbo somewhere where everything is light and smells like you, tastes like dinner you've made together, feels like your sudsy hair in his hands.

he might actually die. his heart's not the best, after all.

either way, crashing back into himself hurts. all his muscles pull and spasm and he grips your ass cheek so hard that you yelp. you drain everything—everything—from him and he can already feel the mess that's leaking between the two of you and you haven't even—

"what was that about?"

you're still holding his face when he opens his eyes, bleary. and you're smiling.

"shud'up," he murmurs, probably flushed down to his ass. "nothin'."

you bounce in his lap until he jerks up, and it's then he realizes he keeps closing his eyes. literally drained. you laugh again and you're so happy and pleased, even though you're sweaty and breathing just as hard as he is, and you kiss his cheeks and start rattling off, like the brat you live to be.

"and i like your eyes and the little freckle on your neck and that little chip in your tooth and how you always smell so sweet and..."

this is how i look at my phone when the fic is so horny it genuinely makes me worry for the writers well being

sober ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive — liquid courage failed you before, too many times to count. this time, you're staying sharp.

mature content, alcohol/drinking, getting together, katsuki is such a boyfriend for someone who isnt your boyfriend, whipped katsuki my favorite, pov switching, 4k words

Katsuki grunts, scowling at nothing in particular. “Stupid.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Katsuki, pissed enough as he is, shoves a hand to squint at the message.

where r u???? hurry the fuck up. pleasee omfg

It’s from Flat Face. Figures.

eat shit and die im almost there

Without Katsuki to play the adult supervision, Sero remains the sober friend in outings, mostly because he can handle his liquor well. Sero badgers on with his texts, begging for Katsuki to hurry before they’re permanently banned at their favorite karaoke bar.

Sero follows up on a recent message with an image attached. Katsuki slows his steps to glare down at his phone. Sero’s real shitty at taking pictures, or it could be someone’s jostling him from the side. None of it matters — Katsuki’s eyes zero in on you lying on Mina’s lap, where the camera had captured you mid-laugh.

“Stupid,” Katsuki repeats, unable to tear his eyes away from your glee for a moment too long. He only snaps back to reality when his phone dims. He must’ve painted a manic picture, staring at his phone like a damn creep. Fuck.

He’ll see the real deal in a minute, but still, he saves the image in his phone gallery. That’s between him and his phone.

Katsuki ignores the crisp breeze brushing his bare face. His nose twitches, growing numb; he feels his hands ache in traces of pain that come to bloom when it’s met with a sharp chill. This feeds his irritation further, yet it’s telling that he continues to walk down the road, as if turning back home was never an option in his head.

The attendant appears relieved to see him; whether it’s from recognition of the #5 hero or the acknowledgment of this establishment’s savior from rowdy pro heroes, Katsuki will never know. Katsuki doesn’t even need to ask — she just hurries him to the far corner room where his shitty friends are situated. He mutters his thanks. She just tells him good luck. Damn.

Katsuki pulls the sliding door open and is instantly greeted by the stench of alcohol. Sero’s picture hadn’t done enough justice; seeing it in real life is worse. It’s like the aftermath of a nasty villain attack if it came in the form of piles and piles of beer and alcohol puddles and bar snacks all over the table. Kirishima’s knocked out on Sero’s shoulder, drooling. Jirou is also fast asleep, taking an entire couch, leaving Sero to huddle uncomfortably on the edge of a corner. Mina’s holding the microphone, but nothing’s playing; she’s just singing shit. You’re laughing at Mina, clutching your stomach.

He nearly stumbles over a leg belonging to Kaminari, who’s sprawled on the floor for some fucking reason.

“The fuck happened?” he hisses, narrowly missing Kaminari's arm swinging to latch onto his ankle.

Cheers erupt from all around the table when they register Katsuki’s arrival. Sero looks like a single parent of five — which may just be the case.

Sero sighs. “It’s like I blinked and was left with this.”

Katsuki snorts. At least he knows how it feels. He's felt that way since year fucking one.

He steps over Kaminari's body, ignoring his cry, heading straight towards you. Raccoon eyes is talking to Katsuki — something about him being a jackass for bailing on tonight, not that Katsuki gives a single fuck.

“Killjoy. Boring. You’re getting boring, old man!” Mina yells at his face.

“Fuck off,” Katsuki says reflexively. “We’re celebrating again next week anyway. Don’t start with me.”

You beam at him, hands reaching out like a fucking child or something. He begins to pry you off Mina’s lap, but his hold under your arms gives notice to how you’re shivering.

Katsuki shrugs his coat off and drapes it over you. Looks like he’ll have to take you home himself.

“Sero,” Katsuki voices in a bite, glaring over his shoulder.

Sero rushes to service as Katsuki shifts to his back, leaving Kirishima to sag beside Jirou, their snores harmonizing. Sero drags you to settle on Katsuki’s back, where Katsuki quickly hunches over and shifts his palms under your thighs. You mumble happily, burrowing your nose into the nape of his neck.

Katsuki slings a heated warning in Sero’s direction before the bastard can laugh about it.

“Call a cab,” he grunts out. “Wake Shitty Hair up; he can help you with those shits.”

Sero flicks a hand in a mock salute.

It was a tedious process, but everyone managed, eventually. They all crash at Kirishima’s house. They’ll be fine. And if someone’s house burns down — well… they’re heroes, they’ll still be fine.

Katsuki adjusts his hold, exiting the bar as the cab drives off. He walks, the cold billowing a soft cloud in each breath.

“You awake back there?” he asks, staring ahead.

“Mm, you take such good care of me, Katsukiii,” you coo in his ear, your lips brushing over the shell of his ear.

He shivers, feeling warmth creep up the back of his neck. You laugh irritatingly, grating his nerves and fluttering his stomach. He bristles at the sensation, snarling nonsense that you don’t even listen to, too busy giggling over damn who-knows-what.

“Walking me back to your home, huh? What are you, my bodyguard? You big, strong … hunk of a man…”

Katsuki huffs in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Katsuki,” you drawl, your hand sliding over his bicep. “You’re so good to me. You take care of me, y’know?”

“I know,” Katsuki says, devoid of its usual snark. “‘s ‘cause you can’t do it yourself.”

“Ha-ha!” You lean your chin on his shoulder. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right. Wish you could … take care of me like this … forever.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki says, mostly to himself. You don’t respond either way.

Katsuki can fucking smell the alcohol reeking from your mouth. He’s about to tell you off, complain about your goddamn stink, but you’ve gone limp in his hold.

“Do you mean that?” Katsuki starts, and it’s met with silence. Then, snoring.

Katsuki doesn’t smile, but the by-passers would argue otherwise.

This is bad. Starting to get bad.

You got somewhat shit-faced drunk in hopes of making a move on Katsuki with liquid courage, but he’d taken care of you so well that you didn’t even have a hangover as an excuse the moment you jolted to consciousness. Your head is starting to clear up, losing its fog and illusion of confidence, and your brain is running off at full speed.

This isn’t the first time you’ve sobered up while in the warmth of Katsuki’s bed, an hour or so after he whisked you away from your shared friend group.

What the fuck am I doing? You want to punch something and scream, ideally where Katsuki can’t see you throwing a tantrum.

You turn to your side where Katsuki’s still in deep sleep, shoulders rising and falling at once like a decrescendo, slow and steady. It’s a heart-aching sight — achingly bare.

He has his back turned. You hold your breath and peek over, hands catching an inch away from Katsuki’s face, catching a view of his mouth open just a tiny bit for quiet snores to come out. It’s unbearably cute. He must’ve been tired, having to take care of your careless drunk ass all night, and it’s not even the first time.

This isn't anything new either — sleeping on the same bed. You remember it from the first night. He shrugged it off, saying he didn't want to carry your ass anymore. You're already makin' me take care of your dumb ass every time this shit happens — you expected me to go 'n sacrifice the bed I bought with my own money?

"Scandalous," you said, at the time, reeling from how defensive Katsuki had been.

"Not like I'm gonna do anythin' to you." Katsuki stared you down. "Why? You wanted me to?"

How embarrassing to resort to liquid courage and still fail.

This has to end. You are definitely not aiming to become a drunkard just to have a chance with your crush.

“Morning,” a gravelly voice mutters, breath hot on your face.

You come to the startling realization that you've been hovering over Katsuki for longer than you intended. His intense gaze arrests yours, tension hanging in the hair. Like doused in a bucket of cold water, you jerk away and flounder, half-baked syllables spilling as some attempt of an excuse. There is no other explanation for that — you were ogling Katsuki in his sleep.

Katsuki doesn’t smirk, but the mirth lighting in his eyes comes very close to it. He pulls you to his side, gripping one of your wrists and positioning it on the other side of his head. He adjusts your hold until you’re pinning him down.

You choke on your breath. “What—”

This time, Katsuki grins. “You're gonna strain your shoulders, idiot.”

Dangerous man, the primal instincts of your brain scream, flinching away, hissing. The hormonal side begs you to pounce on him and wipe that smug expression off his handsome face.

You quickly pull back, recoiling away, only to find yourself back up to the firm surface of Katsuki’s thigh, where he had lifted it in his wake. The shock sends a sharp jolt of aching pain at your violent reaction. You whimper and clutch at your head, dizziness inciting a pathetic: Owww.

“Don’t move so much, fucking dipshit,” Katsuki hisses, easing your hips down on his other thigh that’s laid flat on the bed. “Don’t you fuckin' dare throw up so goddamn early. Shit, it’s like, what, four AM?”

You sag against him, feeling at ease without the strain of your muscles holding your weight up. Katsuki’s like a mountain mass furnace — how nice. You don’t even register that you’re all but straddled on his thigh; if anyone were to walk in, they’d be well within their rights to assume the worst.

Katsuki cranes his neck as he reaches for a glass. You jostle at the movement, grumbling, and Katsuki mutters a quiet ‘sorry,' holding the water to your lips. You take gulps of water slowly, careful not to spill and ruin Katsuki’s strangely soft mood.

“Thanks,” you say. Katsuki’s actions and the weight of his tone — everything is off-kilter with the mood that’s just set. He’s really… “Sorry for the trouble,” you say in a hushed whisper, guilt settling in.

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t,” Katsuki snaps, frown deepening. His eyes don’t convey the same ire.

“Yeah.” You nod, fond. “You don’t do anything you don’t want to, huh?”

Katsuki’s expression shifts. Just slightly, before it melts back into practiced blankness. “So?”

Everything’s straightforward with Katsuki. But even then — even then, he might not mean it in the same way as you’re hoping.

“I wasn’t that drunk, you know.” You want to look away, but you’re finding it difficult to even try. “I never was. I — I know this is the third time this happened.”

Katsuki lifts a brow. “You remember the first time you threw up in my car then?”

Your face erupts in flames. “I’m so sorry.”

Katsuki pushes you by the small of your back, closer to him. You swallow back an embarrassing noise, somehow quick enough to balance yourself on his chest before you plant your nose to his face. Katsuki’s ruby gaze pins you down, even when you’re the one on top of him. Dangerous, dangerous, leave, your brain yowls. Your body, your heart — stays incredibly still, obedient in the face of the man who's got you weak.

“Do you remember what you said last night?” Katsuki asks, several octaves deep. Roused freshly from slumber.

You squirm. His skin feels hot to the touch, even through his fucking black tank top. “I said a lot of dumb shit, Katsuki.”

“Do you mean them, then?”

You file through your memories, trying to pinpoint precisely what he’s talking about. Katsuki’s patient, seemingly content with keeping you on his lap, staring. You’re the humiliated one here.

“What did I say?” you demand, nerves constricting in your chest.

Katsuki pushes his torso up with a hand, inching his face impossibly close. The heat of his gaze spreads through your entire body. You’re sure he can feel it, too — hard to miss when you’re a lapful of a flighty cat perched on him.

His nose brushes against yours, eyes flickering down. Your breath hitches, caught in the hush of the moment.

“Katsuki?” you ask in a fearful whisper. Katsuki’s eyes snap back to meet your gaze.

“‘m hungry,” Katsuki mutters, leaning back.

Your face burns, his warmth lingering on the space before you. Your hands touch over your face, winded. Still aware of Katsuki’s intense gaze, you pull off from his lap, ignoring the scream of your headache as you dash to the kitchen.

You really thought he was going to kiss you.

No, maybe it's more accurate to say you were hoping for it. You almost pleaded for him to. Had he lingered, you would’ve thrown yourself all over him, begging, Please, please, Katsuki kiss me — I need you. How embarrassing is that? To need someone so badly that he's your waking thought, and yet you hate seeing him around?

Instead, the morning ended with Katsuki lending his shirt and driving you back to your apartment — a set routine — the third time. You talked to ease the tension, but it was a fruitless attempt at the question hanging in the air, dangling in front of both your faces. Katsuki doesn’t bring it up, so you hang onto the sliver of mercy he’s granted.

The week passes, and still, you aren't quite ready when another chance comes again.

You wonder if he’ll bring it up tonight.

This time, the party is in honor of celebrating Katsuki’s — Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight — ascension to the Top 5 in the Pro Hero ranking. Katsuki’s not surprised, but most of the class is; he hasn’t laid off on the crude language, so it’s a wonder he even got into the Top 10 at all.

Most of your former classmates are busy with their duties and patrol, and Katsuki isn’t keen on inviting more than five people to his house. Unfortunately for him, Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, Jirou, and Kaminari wouldn’t miss this celebration for the world — Villains be damned, it’s Bakugou Katsuki’s big day. It’s an unspoken agreement that you tag along. Katsuki also texted you that you were late an hour ago, so it’d be no use for anyone to upset Katsuki.

Of course, parties go hand-in-hand with alcohol. You had been avoiding Katsuki since that night, fleeing at every glimpse of blond hair. No one has noticed, except maybe Katsuki, whose eyes linger on you for five seconds longer than usual when you knock on his door.

His gaze sends a lick of heat down your spine, and the night’s just starting.

There needs to be a change of plans. If trapping him drunk doesn’t work after three failed attempts, then you have no choice but to do it sober.

That scrap of interest Katsuki had shown last week was more than enough encouragement. If you don’t end up confessing your feelings tonight, then that just means you’re never meant to do it at all — which would’ve been the easiest way out if Katsuki didn’t make it so hard.

“Hey,” you say. "I'm here."

“Finally,” he mutters. Your lips quirk up in humor.

Katsuki’s gaze slips from your collarbone to your thighs before flicking back up. A flame of interest makes itself known to you, to your chagrin. You’re no better: Katsuki’s dressed in low-hung jeans and a black fitted tank top under a striking red button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. How can he make a simple nothing look so sinful?

Katsuki steps back, presenting the surprisingly neat get-together your friends have set up. There’s a buffet of food spread across Katsuki’s dining table — and because you know Katsuki well enough to be privy to his skills in the kitchen, you can tell he cooked all of them. There are banners spelling his name out beside Congratulations!, which must be Katsuki’s limit, seeing the lack of confetti.

“You’re here!” Mina shrieks, bounding over to encase you in a tight hug.

Air knocks out of your lungs as she squeezes your neck. You tap Mina’s back in distress. The room lights up with laughter, greeting you in turn. Kaminari moves to ruffle your hair, but his eyes catch on something behind you, and he pales and hides behind an amused Kirishima.

Katsuki heads to the kitchen island, alcohol lined up in a neat pile. You decide firmly that you are not getting drunk — you will power through with your plan, and that’s your mission for the day.

You pump your fist once and exhale roughly. Plus Ultra! Mina says you look stupid, dragging you off to the living room.

You’re squished between Kaminari and Mina, who throw their heads back for a shot.

True to your word, you denied any shot glasses offered, instead busying your mouth with the food Katsuki cooked. It's too bad you can't shut your brain the same way.

It’s tempting — really, really tempting. You haven’t been able to approach Katsuki, feeling too much like you should just forget about whatever plan you had for a confession and ride the tide back to normalcy. To get shitfaced drunk and leave it for you to deal with in the morning. But whenever you meet Katsuki’s eyes — it’s like you’re back on his bed, he’s too close for comfort, and you're reminded of all those mornings you wished was so much more last night, and the itch for alcohol is swept away.

Mina rests her head on the curve of your shoulder, her hair tickling your cheek. She asks, too nonchalantly for your liking—

“Have you and Katsuki fucked this week yet?”

You’re fortunate enough to have decided to skip alcohol for tonight, or else you would’ve died from choking on it. You glance over, hoping Katsuki hadn't been paying attention, but to your relief, he was absorbed in a discussion with Kirishima. “I’m — Have we — What?!”

Mina barrels on obliviously. “Had sex. Gotten busy. Under the covers. Hands-on learning—”

“No, I — What the fuck!” You shove her off. Mina sways in place; you'd feel sorry if you weren’t so scandalized. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Oh.” Mina tilts her head and watches your reaction thoughtfully. “No wonder why. Katsuki’s looking all tense lately.”

What the hell. “So?!”

Your shriek disturbs the peace of the party.

Kaminari chimes in to add to the blow. You lock eyes with Katsuki from across the room — must be the ninth time this evening — while Mina and Kaminari crowd in on you, relentless with probing curiosity. “I also thought he was acting like he was lacking some action—”

Blood rushes to your cheeks as you rip your gaze off Katsuki’s questioning stare. Then, in a low whisper, “Katsuki and I have never — we aren’t even—”

Kaminari turns his head, presumably to eye Katsuki. “Why does he look like he’s about to eat you up?”

“Do I look like I can read his mind?” You feel irritation like a blade on your nerves. “If he’s all tense, then he should get his dick wet — and I’m not involved in any of that.”

Mina gapes, disgusted. “What? You’d just let him fool around with someone else?”

“Why would that be my issue?”

Mina and Kaminari share a look. “Oh my god.” 

“You’re actually not together? Not even, like — just fooling around as friends?”

“No, Kaminari.” You hate how you sound defeated admitting that. “No, we’re not.”

“Fuck,” says Mina emphatically. “Fuck! You’ve got to fuck!”

“What — Why is this my responsibility? If he’s happy fucking someone else, let him be — You want him to loosen up, don’t you?”

Mina’s face shifts into a devious little thing. “You look like you want him to loosen you up.”

"That's so gross, Ashido."

Kaminari grins knowingly. “You jealous? Why’s that, huh?”

“Because I’ve been wanting to confess to him for two months now, and my liquid courage is nothing but a fucking cock-blocker!” you hiss in a frantic whisper.

“We’ve got to fix this!” Mina says, the hero that she is. “We need you to get laid!”

“Please tone it down,” you plead.

Kaminari tugs you down in a mock of a team huddle. You squirm uncomfortably; you can taste the liquor in their breaths. “What’s your game plan?” he asks. “Seduce him? Lock him up in his room, maybe?”

“I guess? I just want to do it sober.”

Mina suddenly leaps to her feet, yelling like a soldier. “Isolate him, then force your love!”

“Sober and preferably not unhero-like.”

Mina squeals, cupping your cheeks. “Do it tonight. He’s ready, I can feel it. He’s looking at you.”

Everyone in the room is casting glances at the three of you, but thankfully, Sero, Jirou, and Kirishima are respectful enough not to approach and disrupt the troubling conversation for your dignity’s sake.

“Of course he’s looking at me,” you wallow in mortification. “You’re making it too obvious. I’m going to get bullied.”

Mina smirks, her gaze trained ahead. “Yeah, you’re going to get bullied alright.”

You splutter, “What do you mean—”

Katsuki hovers over you three. “Let’s talk,” he demands, glaring hotly.

You’re back in Katsuki’s room, this damned space — the source of all your longing dreams and fantasies. The music from downstairs dials up, though it seems like it’s more out of consideration for you both. You’d been whisked away by Bakugou Katsuki once again, both of you blatantly disregarding the obscene gestures Mina and Kaminari were making as he pulled you upstairs. This time, however, you’re as sober as ever. It feels so different, like you're pulled out after submerging in the water for too long. Everything is so loud and clear.

Katsuki cages you against his door, never one to mess around.

“If I made you uncomfortable, punch me,” Katsuki says out of nowhere.

You’re speechless. “What?”

“Just — yell at me or some shit. Don’t start avoidin’ me, and don’t just move on to some other extra,” Katsuki mutters, deliberately averting your wide eyes. Move on to another— "I'll leave you alone."

"Why would I…" Move on to someone else? That's almost disrespectful to all the pining that's fucked with your head since this crap started. Move on? From Bakugou Katsuki?

"You were talking about it with those assholes."

Oh. He overheard all the wrong parts.

"I'm not gonna hook up with anyone else!"

The tension that has coiled tightly around his shoulders eases. Yet, despite this, he still hadn't made any bold moves to lead you to his bed, holding onto a fragile thread of hesitation that lingered in the air between you. Like you didn't just admit you're exclusively waiting for him.

His face twists up. “And, about that night, I wasn’t gonna — fuck, I’m not gonna do shit you don’t want, but I can’t read your mind. I don't wanna fuck this up.”

“What are we talking about?”

“The kiss, dammit — shit. Get it straight before I get the wrong idea.” Katsuki groans, resting an arm above your head. Is it wrong to be so endeared by someone clearly struggling to get his point across? “Do you mean it?”

You furrow your brows, arms crossed. This again. “What did I say, Katsuki?”

“When you said you wanted me to take care of you forever.”

What the hell? Did you really say that? Screw the exclusiveness of sex, that was basically a proposal!

Katsuki hooks a finger on your chin and forces your gaze back to him. Pay attention to me. Your eyes drift away for a second, catching on his ears, tinted ears — in contrast to his fierce scowl.

Your shoulders relax somewhat. Then you can't help but laugh.

Right, this is still just Katsuki. Your best friend, crush since forever; the guy who took care of you without even asking for anything in return. The guy who apparently has been considering your boundaries even though you've been seducing him drunk too many times.

“Why are you laughing,” Katsuki hisses; his frustration sounds more agitated than furious.

“So you did want to kiss me that morning?”

“No shit,” Katsuki huffs in a humorless laugh. “But, fuck, I’m not shitty enough to force you—”

“Katsuki,” you interrupt, “you should’ve.”

He falls silent, red eyes piercing yours searchingly.

Dangerous, your mind whispers, but you’ve never wanted to experience a thrill like this in your life. “I really wanted you to.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re lucky you took good care of me before I pounced on you drunk,” you say, and you mean it too. Your hands snake over his shoulder, tugging him down.

Katsuki’s breath catches in his throat, looking caught off guard. Wide-eyed and unsure. Cute. “Are you drunk right now?” he asks carefully.

“Never been more sober in my life,” you breathe.

He dives in for a rough kiss, one hand on the back of your head to push you deeper into him. You tilt your head to the side and — yeah, that’s better. Katsuki pries your mouth open, coaxing noises out of you that he each answers with a groan.

He smells like alcohol in his breath. It mixes with the scent of smoke — a dizzying, cloying scent that screams Katsuki. You want this more than Katsuki realizes. You want to sleep with it, to wake up to it.

“How much did you drink?” you ask.

“Just two light ones,” Katsuki says, and then one side of his lip quirks up. “Thought I had to take your ass home again.”

You smile coyly, tracing a finger over his bicep. “We can skip the foreplay — I'm already in your home, aren't I?”

Katsuki goes very, very still. Staring blankly. You hope you can convey it — you hope he doesn’t back out and pull away. You know he’ll get it. Katsuki is smart enough to pick up on your pleading gaze. His eyes burn; clearer, now, bright with understanding. 

I want this, too. You’re not sure if you or Katsuki said it.

You take his daze as a chance to push him to his bed, with you straddling legs as his eyes devour every inch of you.

“Get the fuck out of here if you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” Katsuki says seriously.

You settle over his thigh, mimicking that morning, hands splayed on his chest. Katsuki wheezes out a breath that sounds like he’s been slammed onto a wall, his grip latching onto either side of your hips right away.

“Take care of me again?” you ask.

“Holy fuck,” Katsuki says.

© dekuneho 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate. do not input this to AI.

if you read my previous drabble ik i recycled it… but in my defense this one came first. thanks for reading mwa

Bakugou katsuki is a whimperer.

He tries his hardest to muffle his voice or make his noises into low groans but he cant. You simply feel too good wrapped around him. He just can't seem to stop himself once he really gets into it.

The soft yet oh so whiny moans that he tends to let out while he's moving in and out of your hole slowly. Making sure to feel every inch of you.

Not to mention how loud he is once he picks up the pace. You always seem to end up littered with bite marks and hickeys all over your upper body and the nape of your neck.

In katsuki's mind, his whimpers may be a little embarrassing, but god, do you look pretty all marked up from his sorry attempts at muffling the noises.

౨౿ random bf! bakugou katsuki headcanons (part 2) ⸻ bakugou katsuki x gender neutral! reader

contains ! fluff

notes ! i'm back .. school's been kicking my ass </3

we all know he's a good cook... so he will always learn to make your favorite meals

very observant of you, from the words you mutter to the actions you do

he also has a great memory, too, like you were on a date with him at the mall and you kept looking at a necklace that caught your eye, then on the drive home he suddenly gave you that specific necklace...?!?!

he would never ever ever ever EVER cheat on YOU. like cheating fics piss me off.. he is very loyal, he doesn't give you mixed signals, he loves you and ONLY you. why the hell would he bother looking at other people when he has you?!??!

arguments, like serious ones, are rare for the both of you. sure, you both bicker here and there but if ever you both really argue, he refuses to let you sleep without making up

i think he'd be an acts of service kinda guy because i think he believes that actions speak louder than words. thus he doesn't say "i love you" most of the time, but you know he does because of his actions towards you.

i like to think that you're his passenger princess, and he doesn't let anyone sit on the passenger seat of his car 😁 you have more things in his glovebox than he does LOL

Bakugou who Facetimes you just to stare into the phone silently and then hang up.

thinking about katsukis kisses perchance

he loves LOVES kissing your neck, he will attack it whenever he can. katsuki just puts his face into the crook of it, sometimes he'll just keep himself there and eventually lets his lips trail all over. ultimately, it's almost therapeutic as he feels like you're a rock in moments he's feeling tense. you'll feel the vibrations of his chest as he laughs if you mention how freezing his nose is when it's cold outside.

i like to imagine whenever you pull your lips away from his, he subconsciously follows and leans towards you getting closer, trying to go back in for another. he absolutely huffs and groans in frustration followed by "what?" or "c'mon. enough of that" if he knows you're doing it intentionally to mess with him-- knowing you've got him all worked up like this.

id think his lips get chapped easily as he tends to bite and gnaw at the skin, especially in the winter it gets bad when it's all dry. he'll let you put chapstick on him or vaseline with your fingertips. little indirect kisses on your fingers.

he is a sucker for shoulder kisses as well. at night as he climbs into bed after a long day and hot shower, he sometimes settles behind you with his chest to your back. he'll make some remark you're up too late as you're looking and laughing at something stupid on your phone, he presses kisses to the back of your shoulder, he tightens his grip around your waist as he tries to sleep.

my personal bakugou hc is that he learns spanish just to talk his shit in peace without getting publicly shamed.

But then he meets spanish speaking reader, who hears him flip out (in spanish.) about how is coffee order is wrong so she rolls her eyes and brings up a new cup (she did it because he reminded her of her Pomeranian at home.)

He’s shell shocked and embarrassed at the whole ordeal but comes back next week and tests the waters by speaking spanish to reader