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#mha bakugou
sprytesukii · 1 day
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you know me (better than i know myself)
bakugou katsuki x reader
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katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.
rating: mature, 18+, MDNI
wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)
tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T
an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)
read on ao3
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the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.
“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”
the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.
“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.
he feels like he might die.
“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”
there it is. fuckin’ kaito.
katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.
part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.
of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.
bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.
he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.
and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.
it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.
perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.
katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.
too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.
but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.
that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.
but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.
he’s moving out.
he’ll be gone forever.
subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.
fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.
“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”
the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.
he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.
katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.
it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.
he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.
fuck.
with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.
“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”
the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.
“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“
katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.
he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.
he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.
he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.
it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.
by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.
kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.
it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.
he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.
nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.
he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.
a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.
(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.
he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.
EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><
katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.
EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you
he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)
the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.
a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.
the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.
it’s sustainable until it isn’t.
a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”
it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.
at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.
most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.
the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.
his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.
it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.
izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.
a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.
when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.
he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.
izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.
“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”
a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.
“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.
with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.
now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.
“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”
katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.
“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.
he never deserved any of it.
with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.
“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).
“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”
maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.
if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.
katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.
izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).
“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.
he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”
the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.
they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.
katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.
the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.
when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.
after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.
that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.
he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.
katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.
the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.
he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.
he posts an ad on craigslist that night.
the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.
“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”
the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.
the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.
katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.
something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.
“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.
the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.
“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”
denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”
he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.
the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.
in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.
katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?
ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested
ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td
ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry
ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back
ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while
ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever
katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.
he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.
katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.
you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.
you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.
you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.
it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.
“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.
you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.
“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.
pretty.
“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”
katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.
“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”
you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.
“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.
“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.
what the fuck?
in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”
your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.
the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.
a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.
katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.
suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.
it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.
“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.
your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.
“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”
the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.
“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”
your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.
the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.
you agree.
the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.
your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.
(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.
“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”
you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)
your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.
(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)
your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.
(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.
“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.
“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”
your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)
the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.
he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.
after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.
you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.
but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.
“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.
“fuck no.”
“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”
and that’s that.
you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.
it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.
occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.
it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.
“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.
“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.
“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”
what the fuck.
katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.
he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.
he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.
katsuki would not dream of stopping you.
it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.
(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.
you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.
“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)
katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.
you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.
when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.
katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.
your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.
“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.
the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.
it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.
it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.
he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.
it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.
the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.
fuck.
katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.
he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.
“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”
katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.
(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.
katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.
“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.
denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.
“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)
katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.
kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.
“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.
the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”
his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.
at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.
he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.
“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.
“i was in love with you.”
the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.
“wha- bakugou, what?”
“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”
kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.
“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”
katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”
kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.
“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.
katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.
“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”
katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”
kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”
after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?
he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.
“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.
“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”
katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.
“i think i’m in love with them.”
kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.
“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.
“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.
he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.
kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.
katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.
his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.
he’s home.
you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.
katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.
you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.
he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.
you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.
“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”
katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.
you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.
“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.
“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.
a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”
it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.
the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.
katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.
these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.
he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.
he thinks it’s his.
you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.
katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.
“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”
his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”
and that he does.
katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.
the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.
“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.
he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.
or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.
“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.
you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”
katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”
you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”
“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.
he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.
a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.
“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.
your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.
“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.
“nah.”
“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.
“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.
“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.
he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.
you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.
he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.
you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.
“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?
katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.
your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.
“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.
“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.
“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.
if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.
“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.
he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.
of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.
“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.
he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.
his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.
after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.
you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.
“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.
you know, though. you always do.
“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.
by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.
“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.
speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.
“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.
you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.
“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.
he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.
“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.
he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”
you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.
katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.
“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”
even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.
he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.
the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.
you already know.
203 notes · View notes
Katsuki: God, you're so embarrassing!
Izuku:
Izuku: Kacchan, you're the one who just dip kissed ME in the middle of the cafeteria!!
184 notes · View notes
slayfics · 2 days
Note
Idk if you’re still taking requests but i’m down bad for your writings so pls hear me out: imagine giving katsuki a lap dance but even then somehow he’s still the one who holds control over you 🤧
I’m such a lost cause i’m sorry
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You give Katsuki a lap dance.
Warnings: aged up | NSFW themes
1000 words~
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You puttered around the living room, putting things away and cleaning down the table as Katsuki sat on the couch reviewing some work reports on his laptop. Music played off the speaker in the corner of the living room, your playlist on shuffle.
You listened to a variety of music, so the mood changed in the living room drastically from song to song. Currently, an ambient lo-fi song played, as you walked to the kitchen to throw away the cleaning wipes you just used.
You made your way back to the living room and scanned it for any other tasks that needed to be done. Everything looked in order, but you scanned again for something to do. You wanted more excuses to be close to Katsuki's presence as he worked.
You usually weren't this clingy but lately, he had been extra busy with hero work, giving you both little alone time. Deciding the TV could use dusting you walked to the hall closet to grab the duster.
As you made your way to the TV that was across from the couch Katsuki worked on, the lo-fi song changed and another randomly shuffled song played from your playlist. This song had a much different vibe from the lo-fi song. It was a slow sultry song you often put on to hype yourself up before having sex with Katsuki.
Katsuki knew the song well, as he watched you many times come to life for him when it played. He loved how it would instantly boost your confidence, making you feel like the attractive bombshell you deserved to feel like.
Katsuki's eyes flashed to you, "Change that damn song," he demanded.
You shot him a pouty look, "You don't like it?" you asked.
Katsuki clicked his tongue, "That's not the problem. This song- and you dusting the TV like that... can't fucking focus on my work."
"So don't," you said back at him teasingly.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow at you as if to challenge you. You stalked over to him and gently grabbed at his laptop. To your surprise Katsuki let you take it from him and place it on the table.
"Can I show you what I've been practicing?" You asked, climbing onto his lap. Being that you two had little alone time the past few weeks, you had been working up something special for him. After watching a sensual music video, you decided you wanted to give Katsuki a show, specifically a lap dance.
"Go ahead- you have my undivided attention now," he said, crimson eyes staring up at you as you positioned yourself.
Even though the song was perfect, and you practiced many times alone- you felt yourself freeze up under his intense crimson glare. His eyes eagerly watched you, curious to see what you had in mind. But all confidence ran out of your body as his hands grabbed your waist, his expression as intimidating as ever.
"Well? What were ya gonna do brat?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as you internally yelled at your body to move, but nothing happened, "I was gonna dance for you," you said shyly.
Katsuki's eyes widened, "No shit?" He exclaimed. "Go on I wanna see," he encouraged.
You took a deep breath trying to regain some of your confidence. Noticing this Katsuki encouraged you further, "Come on don't get shy on me now, I want to see what you've been practicing for me," he said playfully slapping your ass. "You look hot as fuck just mounting me so- gonna lose it when you move your hips," he said, hyping you up.
You gave a sheepish smile as you forced yourself to try. You flipped your hair back putting on the confident expression you had practiced many times in the mirror, as your grip on his shoulders tightened and you began to gyrate your hips grinding on him.
Katsuki's eyes hungrily swept over your body as it moved for him. Then you pressed off his lap sinking between his legs, hands now on his thighs as you eyed him seductively making your way all the way down to the floor.
"Oh shit," Katsuki exclaimed taken off guard by your sudden departure. Following the video you'd studied so much, you stood up and turned around, now facing the TV you caught Katsuki's reflection in the dark screen still hungrily eyeing your body. Hands on his knees for support, you swayed your hips from side to side slowly as you sunk again to the floor in between his legs.
Knees on the floor, you removed your hands from his knees and placed them in front of you. On all fours, you slowly leaned forward till your head laid seductively on the floor. Your ass now being on display, you shook it for him.
Katsuki let out a lustful groan at your movements. Feeling all your confidence rush back, you sat up, laying your head back in his lap resting in between his legs, you arched your back and ran your hands seductively down your body eliciting another groan from him.
You moved back up to his lap, still facing away from him you pressed your ass into his lap and started grinding into him, hips swirling. "Fuck," he exclaimed, the feel of you beginning to weaken his resolve.
You stood back up but squeaked out in surprise when Katsuki grabbed your waist and pulled your ass back down. "Nah- do that shit again," He demanded.
You grinded your ass into him once more, a confident smile on your face at his enjoyment.
You flipped your hair again as you turned around, mounting him with a leg on either side of him, you worked your way up his lap. Swiveling your hips into him pressing into the bulge now protruding from his pants. You brought your hands to your chest as you gave your tits a jiggle, your last move before the song ended.
Before you could ask for his opinion Katsuki picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, "Bedroom now," was all he said. Causing your laughter to fill the room.
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Thank you for the request! This was a fun one to write 🤭! I hope I was able to explain the dance well enough!
Shout out to @pastelbakugou and @unofficialmuilover for letting me bug them and give me ideas while I typed this one out 😂!
Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a
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thehusbandoden · 1 day
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MHA Men When You're Sick - Bakugo Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, and Hawks (separately ofc)
A/n: I've had a pounding head and a sore throat since yesterday lol, so here's a little comfort thing.
General info:
Genre: comfort&fluff \\ wc: 755 \\ female reader \\ posted: 03/27/24
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Bakugo Katsuki (313 words)
“You need to take this, brat. It will help you.”  
You whine childishly, burying your flushed face in Bakugo’s neck. You’ve had a high fever for days. You were too stubborn to tell Bakugo, not wanting to add anything to his heavy workload. He figured out what was happening the third day in and has kept you on bed rest ever since.  
You were currently fully on top of him, curled into his chest, face buried in his neck. The thought of taking medicine filled you with dread, all you wanted was your hubby’s cuddles.
“Baby, you need to take this.” Bakugo let out a long sigh, doing his best to be patient. His attempts were in vain, your whining pushing him to the edge. He gently pushes you off of him, standing up. You let out a whimper from the lack of the comforting contact, looking up at your partner of two years.  
You give him a pout, trying to guilt him to get back in bed. He sighs, measuring out the appropriate medicine. “I’ll come back for cuddles once you take this, okay?”  
You huff, crossing your arms. You do your very best to stay stubborn, but you grew more and more desperate to get your pillow husband back. You reluctantly open your mouth, allowing the pro hero to spoon feed you your medicine. He watches you strictly, making sure you take every last drop.  
Once you do, he relaxes, putting the spoon and bottle down before crawling back into bed. You don’t waste a second, crawling onto him with a giggle. You rub your cheek up against his collarbone and chest, melting into your beloved hubby.  
Bakugo let out a dramatic sigh, trying to keep up his tsundere act. He stroked your hair fondly, even as he acted like he didn’t find you cute- which he does, but he won’t ever admit it.  
(Bakugo's masterlist)
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Shoto (303 words)
(He looks so sweet when he smiles T^T)
The sweet sound of happy squeals and giggles arouses you from your slumber. You groan softly, opening your eyes to see your two-year-old twins crawling on top of you and your husband. You grimace as your head pounds.  
You run a hand through the older twin’s hair before shaking Shoto gently. “Baby?” You whisper, he blinks his eyes open, smiling at the sight of you.  
“Yes darling?” He whispers, his hand finding yours.  
“I really don’t feel well this morning...” Shoto frowns, sitting up to kiss your forehead tenderly. He caresses your hair for a few moments before turning to the twins, his eyes lighting up at the sight of your happy babies.  
“Why don’t you rest? I can watch the twins before I go to work? How bad is it, I can call in if I need to.”  
You groan, not wanting to burden the man you adored. He worked hard enough already; he didn’t need yet another thing on his shoulders.  
Before you can protest, Shoto shoots you a look, silently telling you to just relax for once. Shoto knows better than anyone that you work as hard as he does, though you never take credit for it.  
“I-I really need you here today.” You mumble, looking down in embarrassment. You felt foolish for burdening your husband.  
“I’ll call in. Let me get these rascals into the living room and I’ll come check up on you again, okay?” He smiles softly at you, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You try to pull away, grimacing.  
“You’ll get sick.” You pout.  
“And?” He smiles softly, pecking your lips twice before standing up, chasing the twins out of the room, their cackles of joy making your head pound and your heart to swell with pride and joy.  
(Sho's masterlist)
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Hawks (149 words)
“Babybird!” Hawks screams dramatically, diving full-force into the glass door on your balcony. You frown, quickly opening the door to help him up.  
“You said you weren’t feeling good?!” Hawks asked, obviously panicking. He didn’t blink an eye to the pain he had just inflicted on himself.  
“I just have a headache baby, it’s not that big of a deal.” You sigh fondly. Hawks takes you in his arms, kissing your forehead and temples.  
“Nothing a little cuddling can’t fix...” he grins, pecking your lips and nose before carrying you bridal style towards the couch.  
You can’t help but giggle, enjoying the pampering you’re getting. “You’re a goof, my love.” You smile, stroking his jaw.  
“I’m your goof.” He smirks, kissing your cheeks and nose. 
“That you are, and you always will be.” You grin, leaning up to press a loving kiss to his lips, which he happily reciprocates.  
(Hawks masterlist)
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Main masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3
Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! Your sweet comments literally make my day. <33
~~~~~
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.
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melanthaeunomia · 20 hours
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Does anyone else get the urge to write the ending to their favorite unfinished fanfic no? Just me?
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mothytheycallmommy · 2 days
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Bakugou Katsuki Relationship Head Canons
Hey y'all been a while but I'm feeling the writing bug again and I thought what better way to get into it then by writing for one of my biggest comfort characters. As always I hope you all enjoy, much love <3
As we all know he is very emotionally constipated, I think he wouldn't know he has feelings for you at first, but he would find you less annoying than the other 'extras'.
He wouldn't call you a stupid nickname like he does his other friends, but he also doesn't just outright call you by name. He comes up with a little nickname based on your quirk.
He also doesn't hate helping you study or if ABSOLUTELY necessary, asking you for help.
One day he'll be spotting you in the gym because you asked him to help, is when he realizes he may be feeling more than the normal feelings of friendship for you occur, at this point y'all have been friends for a couple months.
He acts slightly different around you now, looking away whenever you make eye contact or smile at you because he doesn't want you to see his blush and his tiny pout.
When he notices other people making you laugh or smile (especially with Izuku), his palms get sweaty and little pops go off.
After a few weeks of his weird behavior, I'd like to think you had enough of his weirdness and stopped him on his way to his room after hanging out in the main lobby, you ask him what his issue is.
He takes a moment as you chew him out for being weird and not talking to anyone about it, to just admire your features. You notice and shift uncomfortably under his scrutinizing eyes. He suddenly bursts out "Go on a date with me"
You blink confused and he takes it as rejection and scoffs turning to go to his room when you grab him by the arm and make him look at you a slight pout on his lips as he opens his mouth to yell that you don't have to say your rejection out loud.
You roll your eyes and crash your lips into his to shut him up. It works. It takes him a second to figure out you were kissing him and quickly holds your waist and kisses you back.
Thus starts your dating life with Katsuki. He insists you call him Katsuki or some form of it. which you gladly do. He turns to calling you sweeter names in private.
He LOVES to cuddle and sleep in his room with you in his arms or his head on your lap with you playing with his hair.
He always has a hand on you, not because he's insecure, but because he just likes the feeling of being able to hold you when he wants.
He kisses you very passionately and deeply in private but little pecks on your forehead or knuckles when no one is looking in public.
I hope you all enjoyed. Much love, and requests are open :>
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explosion-island · 2 days
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Fanart of Katsuki Bakugou.
Also a quick 💥 ANNOUNCEMENT on commissions! 💥
Until 10th of April 2024 I am taking quick £20 commissions per one character (portrait/half and full body, doesn't matter, I usually decide upon these things depending on composition, idea and amount of detail per request).
Shoot me a Message if interested! I am quick with responses and happy to work with You guys! ❤️‍🔥
That said I am open for bigger works as well (especially if You have already placed Your commissions), but wanted to try something new as this would be artwork I could produce very rapidly, with love and passion and retain quality with my standard workflow. On more rules about the use of my work check out this post: https://www.tumblr.com/explosion-island/742070591781208064/on-commissions-and-guidelines-for-use-of-my-work
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peconella27 · 2 days
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MHA | Angel AU | Chapter 2
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doumadono · 17 hours
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The baby is finally home 🧡
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zwolfgames · 1 day
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Can we have more Yandere mha x child reader please 😁🙏
*Thank you for the request! I' unsure wether you wanted a continuation of the original two parts or a new one. This one us a continuation but I was fairly out of ideas so I hope this is alright. If you did mean a totally new concept then I'll be happy to write that too :3)
Requested: Annon
Warnings: Kinda child abuse but not in a violence or sexual way. Manipulation. Incorrect lore. Binding. Yandere.
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(3rd person PoV)
Y/N. The one kid know to have escaped the league of villains.
But what no one told the news, was that you were also the one kid to escape all of class 1A. A class of pshyco's.
Now that you look back at it. You had been naive.
Trusting these heroes. Just for them to use you as a doll, as a baby to coddle because they felt bad. Because they needed it.
But no one ever asked you... no one.It had been another two long years now.
Your body had finally been allowed to age without Eri being there to revert you, even if she was willing or not. You still weren't sure if that child had been in the same situation as you... But you didn't have time to look back.
Not when they were hunting you.
Now that some war between villains and hero's was around the corner. The searches became more intense. You'd catch Bakugo not two alleys down from you.
See Tokoyami and Hawks patrol from above.
Allmight had been caught in disguise just yesterday.
They were closing in on you.
You had only gotten away up untill now by cuttibg your hair differently. Wearing baggy... stolen.. clothes and caking dirt all over your face.
But what had to be done had to be done.
It's not like the villains left you alone either.
Altough, with the criminal circkles you had affiliated in, as was totally allowed for a 10 year old... you had heard of them trying to find you.
And you know... for someone's whos mentally just 12, that was scary.So you had trained yourself to fight a bit... Wich wouldn't do a lot against grown adults... but the tought was nice.
It's not like your quirk would be of any help. Crying pearls only helped you get by. And thats it...
But naturally, a story couldn't go on with it's main character living peacefully.
As you were napping on your little cleaned up dumpster of a home, you got knocked out of it as the whole plastic container got kicked to it's side.
An all too exited Kirishima came running to grab you off of the floor.You rolled out of the way. Kicking over some cardboard to slow him down as you sprinted away.
The boy just used his quirk to smash trough any and all obstacles. He had one goal in mind. And that is to take their shared sibling back.
Sibling was a better title then your actual role was. You're more of an emotional support pet....
Just as you think you'd still manage to get away from Kirishama, a tendril of grey scarf wraps firmly around you.
You're snatched up and quickly find yourself trapped in someones arms.
The man didn't even want to talk right now. He had gotten way too attached to you. A little kid with barely any power. Those kind of people is what he vowed to protect.
And even tough it seemed like you didn't want anything to do with him or other hero's. Aizawa was sure you'd understand that you needed the protection when the war began.
That you'd need a parental figure-He means... that he'd be available if you ever needed... guidance.
So in no time were you back to U.A.. Wrists bound like an animal.
You didn't like these people anymore...
They made you feel weak, useless...
Not human.
Just a plaything...
You were once again reverted back to an 8 year old and this time, kept in a diffrent room.
"So, like I said, you'll be sleeping in my room now, alright kiddo? I promise this is just for your safety. See, we even set up your own little bed. Yaorozu even made you a plush of your favorite dinosaur. And well... Koda.. tried to do that aswell- but- nevermind." Aizawa explained as he showed you your... incredibly cozy bed. Tough having to sleep in the same room as the guy that had essentially brought you into this mess..
Not your favourite.
"Don't look so depressed kid. It could be way worse. The villains could have killed you by now. You really shouldn't have run from us. We're just keeping you safe." Aizawa sighs and rubs your now messily cut hair.
You just huff in the little defiance you had left.
How dare he try and say that the villains who just as much wanted you back were trying to kill you?
Did he think you were stupid?
Probably.
Actually, undoubtedly.
They must all think that, that the slightest gust of wind would blow you away.
What did even see in you? Just a child?
No one would go this far for just a child...But you were their child. Group effort. Class project.
That was you. A responsibility they took way too seriously.
You still yearn for the reality where you could have just been delivered to an orphanage. Gotten an actual normal family.
A mom and a dad... or a mom and a mom... or a dad and a da- okay look you just didn't care as long as it wasn't this...
"Look, and we got you even more toys. And Midoriya mentioned that you liked to draw? Right? So only the best supplies for our little hero." Aizawa tries to smile.
You didn't know wether he was the only one that actually noticed how wrong this all was... he knew... but he couldn't give you up... give you away.
He never intended for this... but his class had also gotten attached... he wasn't alone in this... And that sucked for you.
Because escape attempt after escape attempt just ended up as you getting more stuck.
Ankle chain, gps tracker, locked doors, barred windows, constant surveillance.
How is no one saying anything against this? Why is this just being allowed?
Why did the freedom rule not count for you?
Where is the law?
Nowhere.
Not for you.
Its never been there for you.
And honestly, that hurt.
Why didn't anyone help you?
Why weren't you saved?
You littarly live with hero's and you're the victim.
This isn't okay...
And you couldn't do anything about it.
So you broke.
Going from defiant child to broken toy in days. Rotting in your extremly comfrotable bed like a depressed teenager.
Wich techically you could almost classify for mentally. Just half a year more.
Getting dragged out of your bed to be passes around like a plushy for movie nights was common now.
The students were getting more nervous too with the upcoming war.
Ochako coddled you more.
Deku had been teaching you about all his quirk knowledge as if he was scared he's die.
Aizawa was fixing up more safety manners.
Hawks had been coming over to babysit during actual hero school lessons.
Wich was even more awkard.
"Hey kid, smile."
"Y/N, can you draw me?"
"You're so cute Y/N, why don't i just take you with me instead? Im sure they wouldn't mind."
"Kiddo, want to go shopping?"
"Y/N."
"Kid."
"Kid..."
You were not a kid...
Stop it.
Why can't they leave you alone.
So you cried. Embarrassingly so in Hawk's presence. Pearls fell from your eyes and the pro hero looked on in awe.
Cupping your cheeks and whispering sweet words to try and comfort you.
Wrapping his wings around you and patting your head.
And dammit if you didn't hate all of them you would have loved this.
But after this... there really wasn't any escape.
War was spent in a bunker.
The survivors clung to you for dear life after the events and you just had to sit trough it like the good doll you were.
Smile and wave Y/N.
You weren't ever free.
And you never will be.
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The Taming of Man: chapter Five - Dragon Shifting!Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader
Once again, I expected this to be wayyyyy longer, and once again, I realized just how much writing that entailed. I hope this was enough plot progress for you, I really am liking the relationship between Katsuki and reader so far <3
Words: 2,743
This is incredibly based on the song The Willow Maid by Erutan, I highly recommend giving it a listen for the best experience.
Warnings: Cursing, reader is She/Her and will be AFAB in later chapters, Katsuki is painfully bad at lying
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The grass...well, was is really grass? It was fiery red, it crunched beneath your feet, it wasn't like the soft and gentle sea green grass you were used to. The air was dry and lightly scented of smoke, causing your nose to crinkle, and the sky was a perpetual shade of pepper orange with not a cloud in sight, only undistinguishable animals circling above, maybe vultures or falcons. The few trees and bushes around were barren and tinted a warm shade of desert red, their big thorns branching outwards and daring anyone to touch them.
Before you, maybe a football field's distance out, was the palace, Katsuki's home. It was tall, so tall you nearly fell over looking at it, the many towers shooting upwards making it looking like a red stalagmite formation. Closer than the palace was the large wall surrounding the structure, scraggly like the side of a mountain, no doubt holding a massive courtyard inside. It reminded you of your own palace, the aesthetics different but the size and awe it induced from others the same.
"This is..." you started, looking around and drinking in every detail, unable to put together your words.
"Forrmidūl," Katsuki finished bluntly, grabbing your hand in his calloused fingers and pulling you away from the regal structure. you wanted to go and see shit? fine, but there was no way in hell you were going anywhere near the castle. The crap he would get over having a girl by, especially a girl so pretty, wouldn't be worth it, his mother would already be planning a spring wedding.
"W-wait, Katsuki," you whined, not taking your eyes off the building. The more you looked at it, the more you realized that those circling birds were way higher up than you thought before...meaning they were way bigger...
"Are those...?" You squinted, unable to get a good look with the sun blaring in the corner of your eye, but thankfully Katsuki turned around to see what you were looking at.
He just rolled his eyes, it was so obvious to him, how couldn't you tell? "Dragons, dumbass," he scoffed, dragging you towards nothing in particular, he didn't care where you were going as long as it wasn't there.
"Dragons," you whispered, a big smile playing on your face as you watched their silhouettes dance in the sunlight.
You and your stupid face, always so easily impressed, always so smiley. He'd never met anyone who smiled so often, it made his heart beat faster and his hands get all sweaty. He was pissed off, that had to be it. All the symptoms were there, it couldn't be anything else...it shouldn't be anything else. You weren't even from the same realm. End of story. That should be enough for him to not like you, to not want to keep his hand in yours just a little longer, to not want to breath in your scent and hold you close and make you smile and-
"Where are we even going," you finally asked, putting your attention on his inexplicably red face and strong grip on your hand. "How'm I supposed to know? It was your idea, wasn't it," he snaps, turning around to face you with a deep frown and furrowed brows.
You just giggled a little and shook your head, it was almost impressive how irritable he was. "Well it's your country, I don't know what's here...I thought you'd have something planned." Your reasoning was annoyingly sound, and while yes, he'd been thinking about this all night, it was less for planning and more stupid worry about keeping you safe.
He seemed to be thinking for a moment, looking down and away while his face stayed angry. "We'll go to the market," he decided begrudgingly, sounding unhappy with the idea. You, however, seemed perfectly happy, smiling widely and saying, "Fun, like a shopping date," absentmindedly. You didn't realize how much those words would effect him.
"N-No, not like a shopping date," he said quickly, turning tomato red and seeming to fumble his words a little. It was just then that he realized he was still holding your hand, and it was then that he immediately let go.
"Ok, ok, not like a shopping date," you laughed with a smile, finding his floundering cute. He sighed and grabbed you again, this time by your arm, and began pulling you to the palace. If you were going to the market, he'd have to fix some things...and that meant having to do a little sneaking around. "Where are we going now," you asked, making him grumble with annoyance. You asked too many damn questions. "I need to get you a jacket or something, you can't be walking around looking like...that."
"Like what," you asked, clearly offended, you hand on your hip as he dragged you along. "Like a foreigner," he scoffed, stopping at the wall surrounding the courtyard. "People'll try to take advantage of you, especially when you look like a blue-blooded b-" he stopped himself, mulling over how exactly you would feel being called a rude name for perhaps the first time in his life, before continuing with- "person."
You caught that, and you had to admit you appreciated his attempt to be at least a little nice. "But aren't you a royal too," you pointed out, watching as he began to scale the short wall, using the rocky terrain to his advantage. "Yeah," he said, his voice slightly strained from his efforts, however able to reach the top before he continued with, "But not a foreign one."
He reached his hand out for you to take, he wouldn't expect you to climb after him in shoes like that, and although you were already scaling the wall, you gladly took his hand and allowed him to hoist you up with ease. "What's the difference," you asked, to which he grumbled at how annoying he found your questions. "The difference is they respect me because I've earned it, now jump down and wait for me at the bottom."
You understood now, being royal wasn't enough for people to respect you here, not like how it was where you were from. You hopped down, the distance not any farther than the wall surrounding your home, and looked up at him from the base of it. His golden hair seemed to shine in the sunlight, his ruby red eyes practically piercing you with the way they bore into yours, and his muscled body concealed by his clothes.
He followed after you, jumping down and bending his knees on the impact. Without another word, he took your arm again and began walking forward, a grove of fruit trees surrounding the two of you. They weren't from here, imported in from other countries as Forrmidūl was a land that had little to offer agriculturally. Even the soil was imported in, the sandy and dry dirt of this place completely inhabitable by these plants.
You weren't walking nearly as long as you were going through the Farbenreich forest, but it took a hot minute before you reached your destination, an extremely large barn, practically its own mini palace. Katsuki pushed the giant metal hatch open, moving the heavy door with ease. The barn wasn't wooden like the ones you were used to seeing for the alicorns and pegasai, but instead made of all kinds of metals.
You'd realize why when, as he swung the door open, you saw giant dragons in their own stalls, curled up in nests and sleeping. There were Wyverns, Wyrms, Western dragons, Lung dragons, Amphitheres, nearly every land dragon namable was there. Katsuki walked in like nothing, clearly used to this, while you followed with a look of awe and astonishment.
He walked all the way to the very back of the barn, making sure you were following, and opened up the gate to a stall that went all the way to the vaulted ceiling. "You're staying in here until I bring you something to cover all that," he said gruffly, holding the gate open for you. Inside was a giant red dragon, sleeping in a curled up ball atop a nest of treasures. It's nostrils were as big as your head, flaring as it slowly breathed in and out, its wings tucked against it's body. It's scales had an iridescent sheen to them, shimmering orange in some lights, reflecting gold in some of the many coins and jewels it lie upon.
"woah..." you whispered, you're own eyes reflecting the glittering beauty. Katsuki watched your awe for a moment, drinking in the way your face held an astonishment that, for reasons unknown to him, made his chest swell. "What's their name," you asked softly, hesitantly turning your attention to Katsuki.
He cleared his throat and quickly looked away from you, his eyes now on his dragon. "His name is Versengen...now get in there already, I don't wanna get caught."
You obliged him, however with some sass in your body language, and took a seat on the giant pile of treasures. The great beast behind you formed a semi-circle around your body, it's curled position leaving it's head about 6 feet from your right, and the very tip of it's spiny tail a yard from your left.
"Uh...what if he wakes up," you ask hesitantly, the breath of him pushing your hair to the side with every exhale and pulling it back in with every inhale.
"Just don't look 'im in the eyes and you'll be fine," he scoffed, already leaving.
"What do you mean 'don't look him in the eyes,'" you called after him nervously. He was already out the door. "Katsuki," you whisper-shouted. No response. "What happens if I look him in the eyes?!"
As Katsuki left the front of the barn, all he could think about was how much this inconvenienced him, you and your constant asking for shit. Oh katsuki, teach me about your world. Oh Katsuki, take me on an adventure. Oh Katsuki, look how perfect and pretty I am...ok, maybe he made that last one up, but the rest of it was true! He was so wrapped up in his own head, he bumped right into Kirishima walking towards the barn as Katsuki walked away.
"Oh, hey dude," Kiri said nonchalantly, his hands full with a giant bucket of raw animal meat. "Watch where you're goin," Katsuki grumbled, to which Kirishima laughed but didn't argue. At this point, he knew it would be an uphill battle.
"What's that for," Katsuki asked, gesturing towards the bucket. Please don't let it be what he thinks it is. "This? I'm gonna go feed Versengen," Eijiro answered innocently.
"No," Katsuki shouted, successfully confusing Eijiro. "No...I already fed him," Katsuki lied, about as convincing as someone blunt as himself could be. "Really," Kirishima asked, a little suspicious but also seeing no reason as to why he would lie. "Alright then...I'll just go put this back..."
Katsuki would owe Versengen a feast later. He just kept walking towards the palace, now beside Eijiro, who was doing nothing but staring at Katsuki. "What," Katsuki huffed, scowling at his servant. "Nothin...Hey, how's it going with that girl?"
"There's no girl, I already told you," Katsuki barked, immediately turning red. "Right, of course not," Kirishima said sarcastically, grinning at Katsuki widely. Bakugou was silent for just a second, trying his best not to inadvertently give himself away. "Hasn't anyone ever told you to mind your damn business," He finally huffed, looking askance.
Eijiro laughed and shook his head, amazed at how strictly Katsuki stuck to his lie despite the truth being so obvious. "Whatever makes you happy dude," Kiri sighed, making Katsuki even angrier. How dare he not believe him!
"I'm serious! there's no girl," Katsuki yelled, nearly foaming at the mouth. "Yeahhhh, for sure," Kirishima sighed with a laugh, turning to go through the back kitchen door. If Katsuki didn't have something to do, he'd be following him, but lucky for Kiri, he was busy.
"Damn shitty hair...not believing my lies..." Katsuki grumbled, hands in his pockets as he made his way around the palace. He entered through a side door, now inside the base of one of the many towers. It took a while, but after trekking through the vast and dark, barely candle-lit castle, he finally made it to his chambers. He grabbed the first thing he saw that might work, a simple red cloak that would surely cover your body. Shoving it into his bag, he began to retrace his steps back through the castle. You owed him for all this crap.
Katsuki had just about reached the barn, sliding up the hatch, when he heard a practically ear-splitting shriek. Oh. Fuck. No, you couldn't be hurt. holy shit, what was he going to do if you got hurt? He burst through, dashing to the back of the dragonhouse and practically kicking the door open.
There you were...perfectly...fine?
Versengen craned over you, his long tongue running over your face in broad and happy strokes, you squealing with laughter. Katsuki let out the biggest sigh of relief, before stomping over and scowling at you. "You scared the shit out of me, don't scream like that," Katsuki shouted.
Versengen practically whacked him on the side of his head with his tail, moving a little to be in between the two of you in a protective way. "You can't side with her," Katsuki huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at him. Versengen wobbled his head from side to side, his breath becoming so loud it practically shook the stall and filled it with steam as the scales around his neck extended in and out, like the gills of a fish. "Don't give me that," Katsuki scolded, as if he were talking to a small child and not a ferocious dragon.
"Ok, as cute as this is," you started, standing up, "I kinda really wanna go to the market now." Katsuki's attention returned to you, and he grabbed the cloak from his bag. "It's not cute, he's being an asshole," Katsuki said pointedly, eyes still on Vergensen as he passed you the item of clothing. The beast just made a sound similar to a chuckle, a throaty, breathy sound being released in short bursts.
You put the cloak on, holding it together by the ruby clasp and pulling the hood up over your head. The fabric went all the way down to your feet, nearly touching the ground, and the hood partially covered your eyes. It was almost too big for you, enough to be annoying but not enough to greatly inconvenience you.
"Awww, but he is cute," you cooed, stepping out of the circle the dragon made around you and rubbing his snout in circles, the texture smooth but the scales threatening to cut you where they layered atop one another. Versengen let out a deep rumbling sound, not a growl but a continuous purr, his head lowering down as you relaxed him just enough to put him back to sleep.
Katsuki watched you handle his Dragon so effortlessly, you truly had a way with nature. Flora and Fauna alike bent their will to you, doing as you wished not because you forced them, but because you were so good-hearted. "C-come on, let's go already," he grumbled, grabbing you by your elbow and yanking you away. "Hey, you can turn into a dragon, right," you asked, eyes thankfully still on Versengen, if you saw how touched Katsuki was that you two got along he might just die of embarrassment.
"Yeah, so what," he said sharply, taking you to the front of the barn and peaking out to make sure no one was watching. "Do you purr too," you asked teasingly, grinning at him cheekily. He twitched, clearly not expecting that, before responding with, "Why the hell do you care?!"
"Take that as a yes, then," you said with laughter, giggling as you both ran out of the barn. You clambered up the wall, Katsuki once again hoisting you up while saying, "Don't just assume shit!"
Hopping down and waiting for him to follow, you said, "Oh, so you're saying if I were to pet you the way I pet Versengen, you wouldn't purr?"
"..."
You reached your hand out, a wide and playful grin on your face.
"Don't fucking touch me."
Katsuki was already sick of your bullshit, and you hadn't even been together longer than a few hours.
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Ahhhhhhh I love Versengen and the dynamic he has with Kat <3 As always, let me know what you thought of this chapter and please like if you enjoyed! I'd also like to say that if you have any questions about this series, drop it in my ask box and I'll do my best to answer without spilling some of that juicy plot 😏
Taglist<3: @sky-angel101 @the-galaxy-fiend @chixkadee @ssplague
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THEY ADDED MHA TO NETFLIX LETS FREAKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I CANT WAIT TO SEE MY BOYSSSSS
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normalboyhours · 2 days
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》☆Bakugou Stimboard with Silly Cats and Explosions!☆《
💥|😾|💥
😾|🌈|😾
💥|😾|💥
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keitoart · 1 month
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It's been a long time since I've done any big art
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nikoruart · 28 days
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mafia boss bakugou 🩸
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spoksstuff · 2 months
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bkdk's very honest answers 🙂
all credits to the original artist @dommypapi on X, ig & tumblr
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