adele

it’s the mention of home that gets your attention. you lift your head up off your legs and you turn to face the man who’s taking up more space than necessary in your cell.

as bakugou gasps, you snigger.

what the hell is this guy wearing? those wings by his head? are the height of those boots to compensate for something else? 

you’re definitely human looking. two sparkly eyes, a nose in the centre of your face. nobody told him the alien was beautiful. fucking stunning.

he wants to go home now, he’s not prepared to be speaking to a woman like you after a ten hour shift. fuck, he doesn’t think he ever would be.

bakugou clears his throat. he stands up straight and tightens his arms across his chest. 

“you’re very… fuck, anyway,” he’s so goddamn embarrassing.

you start laughing, these light buttery giggles that feel like they’re breathing air into bakugou’s lungs. your eyes brighten, you even lean back on the wall like you’re taking a better look at him. he feels your eyes travel from his boots to the top of his head.

thank god this man has a pretty face, or at least he would if he stopped frowning because this outfit he’s wearing looks stupid. does anyone else on this planet dress like this?

you’re laughing… and it feels like it’s at him instead of with him. he knows he didn’t say anything funny.

“do you not know english? they always say i need to speak english for this shit.” he grunts, scratching his head.

damn, he’s finding it hard to even look at you directly. the orange compliments you, makes your skin glow, makes you— stay focused.

“i doubt you’re gonna know any japanese. d’you understand me now?” he tries and he sees the frown on your face. confusion.

“ah, so you understand english. you just don’t want to talk to me.” he punctuates by jabbing his thumb into his chest and then leaning on the wall behind him.

you roll your eyes, which only gets bakugou grinning, then he calms down. he doesn’t need to be reacting like he won the lottery over a reaction from you.

“what’s your name?”

nothing. you blankly stare at his face.

“why are you here?”

nothing.

“c’mon just say somethin’ so i have somethin’ to say to them outside. then you get to go back home.”

you swallow, resting your head in your palm.

“this is an odd planet. a traveller lands and you immediately arrest them, deprive them of sunlight and dignity,” you nod your head towards the toilet in the corner of the room, “treating me like a criminal.”

you’ve got an accent. one he can’t place from anywhere specific on earth. it sounds almost melodic, easy to understand and very clear.

“so the alien talks,” dynamight, you think he introduced himself as earlier, says amused, “you fell from the sky, at a speed none of us has seen before. it was so fast, not even our meteorologists caught it. then you came out of this metal-like sphere that isn’t quite metal, they’re still workin’ that out, in a coma. not to mention you set alight the fields you landed in, causing a wildfire through acres and acres of land.”

bakugou squints at you, “you can see why we’d have a fuck load of questions, right?”

you look away from him. fuck. you were told the earth on this planet would have been able to handle your ship, not that you’d start a wildfire.

“i didn’t… i didn’t hurt anyone, did i?”

bakugou’s quick to shake his head, “no, the farmer ushered out all the animals in time. though you did destroy a families hundred year old strawberry farm.”

“shit.” you mutter, in your language. then in english, “i’ll help them as soon as i’m out of here.”

there’s a hero complex to you somewhere. hm. “and to get out of here, answer my questions. yeah?” 

you sigh, “what do you want dynamo?”

bakugou’s face scrunches like a ball of paper, “dynamight. my name is dynamight.”

“is it actually? earth names didn’t sound like that when i researched.”

“it’s my fuckin’ hero name, i said that in my introduction at the beginnin’— you know what, never mind. call me dynamight. nothin’ else.”

you blink at him.

“what’s your name?” he tries.

he really wants to know your name. not for the sake of government purposes, just for himself.

“that’s personal, isn’t it?” you laugh but dynamight raises his eyebrows.

“not at all actually,” he breathes, equally restless and intrigued, “quick or we’ll be here all goddamn day.”

“you swear a lot, don’t you? is that normal?”

that catches bakugou off guard, he leans off the wall. “hah? you’re not askin’ me questions, woman. i’m doin’ the askin’.”

you chuckle, loud and sweet. “okay, okay! my name is yn.”

“yn,” he likes the sound of it on his lips, though it’s even better from yours, “yn where are you from?”

“why are you dressed like that?”

bakugou looks down at himself. he’s always been voted highly for best dressed hero. his black body suit, black and orange chunky boots. he’s got his wings at his shoulders. he doesn’t have his gauntlets on though, he doesn’t need them for this.

“this is my hero suit. how many times do i have to tell you, i’m a professional hero—.”

“hero,” you try, “is that your version of a protector? looking after civilians? the strongest of the people?”

bakugou can’t help but let his grin slip. he likes the sound of that. it’s all true. “y-yeah i am. currently third on the charts but i jump between one and two, so technically i’m the best in the country.”

you do an upside down smile, somewhat impressed. so this man is one of the strongest and cocky about it. his grin is cute too. his lips stretch wider, only one corner rising. a gold tooth shining. okay, his smirk is sexy.

“family must be proud.”

“they expected it,” he shrugs. wow, is it easy to get off topic with you. “any quirks?”

“quirks?”

“abilities different to the average.”

you scrunch your nose, “not that i know of.”

bakugou doesn’t know if he can trust you. “so if i took those handcuffs off you, nothing about you would change?”

honestly no. your body feels fine. mentally, not so much.

you snap the handcuffs apart, the middle chain breaking with ease, now appearing as two ugly grey bracelets on your wrists as the green glow slowly dies down. bakugou jumps at the sound, jaw dropping on command.

“what the fuck?” bakugou can’t even get out of those. he’s tried before in hero training. what are you? “why the hell didn't you get out of them before?”

“i…”

you’ve never experienced grief before and to experience it on the scale you are now... your parents, your family, your people, your home. all gone. you don’t think you wanted to break out of it yet.

“had other things on my mind,” you offer, looking up at this dynamight man. “what’s your… quirk?”

something about him is comforting. with those boots on, he’s as big as the men back home. just as wide too. 

so to get information out of you, he has to give a little back. that’s okay for now.

“i sweat nitroglycerin. can create explosions from my hands,” he gives you a little show, facing his palms up to the ceiling and creating little sparks.

that gets you facing him, now cross legged on the floor. you sound like a child, brimming with curiosity. you don’t recognise the word nitroglycerin but you can assume. “how big can you make them?”

bakugou chuckles to himself, slowly sinking to sit down too. “question for question then. so it’s my turn now.”

you huff, “fine.”

have you showered in these three days? you look as if you have. a beautiful glow like those women in skincare adverts he sees.

“how old are you?” not the most important question, but he’s got to know. they couldn’t have gotten a more selfish hero to question you.

“fifty moon shines,” you say without a beat. “how old are you? wait, let me see your explosions!”

“woah, woah, hold on. fifty?” you either look good for your age or—, “how are years measured where you’re from?”

“182 days. isn’t it my turn to ask a question?”

“how long are your days?”

“twenty three hours.”

bakugou relaxes. you’re the same age as him. 

“so you’re twenty five.”

“i just said i’m fifty.”

“to me that’s like you’re sayin’ you're a hundred in your time. you’re twenty five in this world, darlin’.”

“darling? what’s that?”

bakugou shakes his head. shouldn’t have said that. “nothin’. i’m twenty six.”

that pleases you for some reason. you both stare at each other for a few seconds, sizing the other up. you could take him in a fight you think. in bed too, if it came down to it.

“how big can you make your sweat explosions?”

bakugou winces. what an ugly name. “they’re not sweat explosions.” “but you said—,” “the size of buildings. could blow this whole building up. can also fly, use them as grenades, blind opponents, shoot them like a gun.”

he’s sharing too much now. you shouldn’t be telling your enemies your main attacks. it’s going to be a beautiful woman to take him down. that tarot reader kaminari took him to was right.

“that’s really cool, dynamight. i can’t do that.”

you sound honest, real. bakugou bends his knees and rests his arms on top. “it’s whatever. what can you do?”

you shrug, looking at your bare hands. there’s some dirt under your nails and they’re all chipped from your lack of basic essentials. “where i’m from, everyone is the same so i don’t know how different i am to you guys.”

bakugou gets that, “what’s the most you can lift—,”

“my turn now, hero. why’re you so pissy?” you ask, tilting your head at him.

bakugou can’t help the loud, “hah?” he sits up at that comment, hands flat on the floor.

“you came in here moaning. you swear in every sentence. you act like the world has done you wrong. what happened with you?” 

there’s a part of you that wants to find solidarity in this man. that perhaps he understands the pain you’re going through deep within your soul. after waking up from your coma three days ago, you feel sure the grief is going to eat you alive. you don’t want to hate the world, become evil and angry. you also don’t know how to not.

you get this blonde man blinking at you. a silence takes up the room quickly but you give him all the space in the world to speak.

“what d’you mean what happened to me? you think i have a sad tragic backstory like those american game show contestants?”

now you’re frowning back at him. you don’t understand that reference. “don’t you? or you’re just pissy for no reason?”

it feels like a weird competition now, that he should have something under his belt. something odd and sadistic to impress you with. bakugou bites.

“i died when i was sixteen. i fought a war and died.”

you’re not impressed. “how are you here now? i didn’t know this world has magic—,”

bakugou shakes his head, “nah not magic. another… another hero here fixed me up. brought me back.”

“oh,” you trail off, “and you’re fine now?”

he is. though it seems as if you’re looking for more. he deals with villain attacks often. fights them with his friends. he hasn’t been close to death since. he lives a wealthy luxury lifestyle now he’s professional and he’s got all his friends around him. all his greatest traumas he’s working through in therapy. yes, he goes therapy. 

you keep talking, “you’ve got both your parents? all your friends?”

“y-yeah i do? i answered your question, didn’t i?” he spits.

you roll your lips in.

“are you… are you laughin’ at me again?”

at that your dam breaks, giggles spilling out. your shoulders shake and your hand covers your mouth in an attempt to be polite. though you lost that once you had to use the toilet beside your bed being recorded by security. 

j“no, well yes! i don’t know, i thought you had a tragic backstory to explain your shitty attitude. guess it’s just you.”

bakugou’s walls go straight up. he doesn’t know who the hell you think you are to read him so easily. because yeah, maybe he is just a dick. but he owns it. he’s apologised for his mistakes in the past. he doesn’t hold all his worth to his quirk anymore and he doesn’t blame himself for anyone’s death. he’s actually quite well adjusted now.

“okay, so the fuck is your problem? why’re you on earth? where’s home? where’s your family? they just send you here and can’t be bothered to get you outta ‘earth jail’?” he snaps.

that slows your laughter down, your grin is the last thing to drop before pain shakes your heart. it’s a harsh squeeze that doesn’t let up.

“you’re not getting all of that out of me in one day. see you tomorrow, dynamight.” you’ve got nobody to come get you. 

bakugou hates how he likes the sound of that. another day, a reason to see you again. he’s got a whole load of questions to ask you but he’s got to get back to his other tasks for the day.

“fine, if that’s what you want.” he begins to rise to his feet. he’s too petty to be somewhat nice. “y’know if you cooperate we can send you home.”

you look up at bakugou, hugging your knees to your chest on the hard concrete floor. “i don’t have a home anymore.”

bakugou stands still, mouth open to speak but nothing right is about to come out. until there’s a rough knock on the door, one of the jail guards.

“you okay, dynamight? times up unless you need more?”

bakugou doesn’t take his eyes off you, now back to your original position with your forehead on your knees. he won’t be surprised if you move to fetal position once he’s gone.

“i’ll be back tomorrow, yn.”

you don’t bother replying to him but you hear his thick boots walk out. 

as soon as bakugou steps out the door, the guard pipes up.

“we saw she was speaking to you on cams! the alien’s gorgeous, isn’t she? doesn’t look like no damn alien either. what was she saying?”

the first thing bakugou does is shove the man away. “down my fuckin’ neck. i’m not sayin’ shit to you. who runs this place?”

in about an hour, you’re pulled out of your cell to a new room. one with a bedframe for your mattress, a pencil and a pad of paper. most especially, the toilet is in a separate room to your cell. you’re especially grateful when they remove your handcuff bracelets and don’t lock new ones on.

there’s no chance you’re going to thank dynamight for giving you your basic rights. you appreciate the changes to your new home though. 

you scoot closer to him so your knee is touching his side and you can flatten your hand on his collarbone. you watch as his breath hitches at your touch, his eyes staying on your face and not dropping to the tiny piece of fabric between your thighs or your chest.

“i wanna know more about you,” you say, lifting up his black lenses sunglasses off his nose bridge just to check he’s looking at you. he is. two shiny rubies glittering. then you drop the glasses back onto his nose.

you feel his whole body hum, “can say the same about you.”

bakugou is brave when he places a hand on your bare thigh. your eyes widen just a smidge before biting down on your lip. fuck, it is way too early to feel this much sexual tension. you want to drag him into the hideaway and push him down onto the mattress.

politely, you take your hand off his collarbone and his hand off your thigh. “sorry, i can’t think straight with the touching,” you blink a few times like you’re clearing your head, adjusting your posture and stretching your fingers, “i’m serious. i wanna know about your family, your friends on the outside. what’s your usual morning routine… what’s the day in the life with katsuki. what about your last name?”

apparently, you don’t need to have him touch you to feel aroused, his smile can do it for you. the corners of his lips reach up, revealing bright white straight teeth and a gold tooth on his canine. how’d be get that? why? you need to know everything. he adjusts the waistband of his black swim trunks.

“fuck, you’re adorable. one by one, yeah? and then you answer the same question.” his hands are back on his own chest, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you. even the urge to look between your legs, your cute thighs and that tiny strip of fabric hiding nothing.

you nod, adjusting your hair because you want to look perfect in front of him even though he’s seen how you look when you wake up.

“i usually go to the gym every morning.”

your face scrunches. unimpressed, confused, icked out… katsuki doesn’t get it.

he frowns back at you, “what’s wrong with that?”

“every morning?”

“yeah, gotta stay ready for my work. part of my routine.”

you pout, looking away. you don’t mean to but you run the tip of your finger down the vein in his forearm.

“i need cuddles in the morning if i’m waking up beside my man. i’d hate waking up beside an empty spot all the time in a relationship.”

bakugou lets every word sink into his skin like the sunscreen he slapped on earlier.

“i’d adjust for my girlfriend.” in other words he’d adjust for you. “i’d probably wanna do a lil more than cuddle in the mornin’.” if i woke up beside you.

that gets you staring at his lips. pink and in a small smirk. he has to be an eater. you want to run your tongue along the scar on his cheek. feel his hands back on your body.

“that’s good to know, katsuki. really good to know.”

you’re trying to be serious but the giggles spill out of you faster than you can catch.

“is it too early to say i’ve never felt tension like this before? if we weren’t in here….,” you trail off, you know exactly what you want to say.

“no i get it. fuckin’ magnetic,” then he wipes under his nose. he’s eager for any piece of you you’re willing to give. if it’s a touch, a thought, a look. anything. “if we weren’t here what?”

he’s so naturally flirtatious. you don’t think he even means to be. he’s cutely bad at eye contact sometimes, like your presence overwhelms him. then other times, like when it’s just you and him, it feels you’re the only one in the villa, actually the whole planet.

you lean in closer to his face, nose to nose, “i’m not telling you yet.” then you’re back sitting up straight.

“fine, princess. what’s your morning like?”

“well, mr pro hero, i always wanna be in bed as long as possible. cuddles in bed, morning sex, breakfast in bed, some shitty tv. on the weekend at least.”

bakugou raises his eyebrows, “just the weekend? we can stretch that midweek too, i think.”

you’re trying to hide your smile, biting it down, “and then after i’m happy and fed, you can do whatever you do in the gym.”

“fucked and fed.”

you slap his arm, “katsuki!”

he grabs your hand in the air and shrugs his shoulders. then sweetest, he loops his fingers with yours, “‘m not wrong.”

it’s the demons that push you to ask your next question. you’re supposed to find out about his family, his background, there’s so many questions you can ask about his job.

“what’s your favourite position?”

you wish you were wearing sunglasses right now, so you can subtly stare at his abdomen and all the scars that run over it.

bakugou’s laugh is short and huffy, like he wasn’t expecting that question but he’ll entertain you with an answer.

“i hope you know that even though i’ve never had a girlfriend, it doesn’t mean i fuck around.”

ah yes. this gorgeous prohero has never been locked down. it’s a fact he said a few days ago at the firepit. you’re not sure whether to take it as a red flag or not.

you’ve got no reason to assume he’s lying to you yet so you nod.

“okay! now answer me.”

he squeezes your hand in his, now resting your hands on his stomach. katsuki’s really thinking about this question, scrunching his nose and then releasing.

“this isn’t a cop out, but i love missionary where i have my partner folded,” then he flickers his gaze over to you, “y’know. like her knees to her ears. get to see her face and go deep.”

fuck, fuck, fuck. fuck.

“that’s like equally romantic, equally dirty.” you’re so turned on you hope it isn’t obvious. has anyone gone to the hideaway during the day?

bakugou shrugs. he wonders how you’d sound moaning his name. “i like knowin’ for sure i’m makin’ them feel good. tell me yours.”

with your other hand, you can’t help it, you’re back to drawing shapes on his chest. his other hand is back on your thigh, “i like when the guy is sitting and i’m sitting on top of him. the lotus position? that one is insane.”

“you’re just like me. you love some eye contact and feelin’ it deep, huh?”

you’re smiling at him, “and we can kiss while i cockwarm you.”

you both never realise when you switch to making it personal. like you know someday in the future you both will be doing this.

“cockwarm?” he pushes his sunglasses up his nose. squeezes your thigh.

“if your dick was inside me but not moving or thrusting. thats cockwarming.”

bakugou stares at your lips when you talk, how they curl and go into o shapes.

“oh fuck,” he breathes, tapping your thigh with two fingers, “yeah, that’s sexy.”

“hm,” you mumble, adjusting to now lay slightly on top of him. you stretch your legs out beside his, your arm across his chest and your head just under his.

there’s a few seconds of silence, choosing what’s the best decision to take next that doesn’t include having sex with you somewhere.

“we gotta talk about somethin’ else before i drag you into that fuckin’ hideaway at god knows what time it is.” he grunts, pulling at his shorts and adjusting his body on the bed. katsuki pulls off his sunglasses to rub a palm down his face.

“okay, okay!” you perch your head on his chest and his hand drifts down to your lower back. “when did you move here? you grew up in japan, right?”

he leaves his glasses off now, “yeah i did, i moved here about five years ago? i live in the south now.”

“i live near there too! about an hour drive,” something in common. “so, you must know some japanese.”

he chuckles and you feel his body shake under you, “it’s my native language so i know pretty much everythin’, babe.”

katsuki’s fascinated at how easy this is with you. that apparently it just took him to go in a dating show to find a woman he wants to keep forever.

you sit up on his chest slightly, tits now in his face and lips so reachable. his cock aches just a little.

“say something.”

“what should i say?”

“anything.”

bakugou thinks for a seconds then grins. he says a sentence and you only recognise one word.

“matcha? did you say matcha?” you pout, “you sound so sexy.”

you didn’t think he could get sexier. his voice is deeper in japanese, heck, it’s husky and intimate.

“i did,” he says in english, “any guesses?”

“something about me with my matcha?”

“close. i said ‘you want head first, matcha second in the morning’.”

you burst into giggles at that, your forehead flopping onto his shoulder. bakugou feels his heart swell at making you laugh.

“you’re so stupid,” you grin, “i know how to say hello and thank you.”

nearly everybody knows how to say that in japanese but bakugou thinks you’re incredibly cute. especially because you look so proud at your knowledge.

“go on then.”

“konnichiwa ! and arigato !”

bakugou thinks he’s going to die. especially, when he doesn’t say a word and your smile slowly drops into confusion.

“was that wrong? did i pronounce those wrong?”

“no, no, no. you’re perfect, just real fuckin’ cute, baby.”

“okay, good. arigato katsuki!”

“no problem, princess. now tell me about your family. who do i have to look out for?”

It was almost embarrassing to talk with your boyfriend about something your friends have been obsessed with lately, not even daring to admit to them that you've tried it before but it just wouldn't happen. Of course, dear Katsuki enjoyed watching you squirm and suffer in front of him, trying to let him know what exactly you wanted. 

"So… You want me to help you take a piss?" He asked amused, causing you to burn up with the way he put it, a long sigh escaping your lips 

"It's not…peeing you dimwit…but yes," you stammered as your eyes drifted down to your lap out of embarrassment. 

All you could hear was a soft chuckle that came from the blonde, followed by rustling of the sheets as he moved around. When you dared to look up again he sat against the headboard, legs slightly spread and mischief written across his face 

"Are you gonna sit there forever or will you let me play with you?" He asked in a teasing way, patting the empty space in front of him. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, not expecting him to be so willing to do it right away but you simply nodded before crawling over to him. 

Once you were nestled between his thighs your lips crashed onto his in a passionate kiss while your hands were busy taking your shorts off. 

"Everything," he hummed as he tugged on the hem of your shirt, wanting to have you completely bare against him. 

When you finally settled between his legs, your back resting against his chest, he hooked your legs over his own to keep them spread wide, a small "tsk" escaping his lips when you tried to close them at first. His soft lips came to nibble at your neck, slender fingers snaking towards your chest to knead your chest. 

Soft mewls escaped your lips when he rolled your nipples between his fingers and it made him chuckle. 

"You're so needy," he teased and pressed his hardened length against your back to let you know that he was just as needy, but his goal was clear, to get you to make a mess all over his hand and bed. 

You were so lost in the pleasure his hands provided to your nipples that you barely noticed how one of his hands slid further down between your legs. A small slap to your glistening cunt pulled you back to reality with a squeak.  

"Mhh… better pay attention," he mused and let a finger slide between your slick folds. 

As he slowly circled your clit, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder, fully relaxing into him to allow the pleasure to take over your body. With skilled fingers he quickly built up this all to familiar heat in your lower abdomen. 

Katsuki chuckled deeply when he took his hand away right before the knot was ready to burst, leaving you a whimpering mess. The cruel treatment made you want to whine and close your legs to create at least some sort of friction, but closing your legs was impossible with the way his own held yours open. "Patience, my sweet" he whispered, soft lips connecting to your neck once again as his fingers came up to your mouth. 

"Open up," he ordered and you knew better than to deny him, so you allowed him to push his fingers into your awaiting mouth, cleaning up his fingers as you sucked gently before swirling your tongue around them. 

With a pop he released them from your mouth and bit down on a sensitive spot on your neck before speaking again 

"Such a good girl for me. Enjoying to taste yourself, hm?" That cocky bastard, you thought to yourself, but your mind quickly went blank the second you felt the tip of his finger circle your dripping core, eagerly awaiting him. 

The way his fingers curled upwards against your sweet spot had you seeing stars, the squelching sound almost drowned out your soft moans and whimpers. 

Right before you had the chance to get your sweet release he did it again - removing his fingers to leave you clenching around nothing, chasing an orgasm that wouldn't come. 

"Kats, please… Need to cum," You whined desperate, hating it when he edged you, but he turned your head slightly to the side to kiss your temple.

"You're too impatient, you little brat. You wanted to make a mess, right?" He questioned as if he knew exactly what he was doing, smirking when he saw you nod. 

"Then take it like a big girl," he hummed before pushing his fingers back inside of you to work you up a few more times. 

When you suddenly started to stiffen up he hummed softly into your ear, knowing exactly that you feel the pressure of what's about to follow 

"Don’t think so much, just let your body take control." His voice gently reassured you when he brought his free hand up to play some more with your nipples, while his fingers harshly massaged your sweet spot. 

As if his words were all you needed, you came with a silent scream, clear liquid squirting out of your cunt and wetting the sheets as your eyes rolled back in your head. The sensation was unlike anything you’ve felt before. Katsuki's fingers kept rubbing your clit in fast circles to make this orgasm last even longer. However, the second you calmed down, he plunged his fingers back inside once again.  

"Look at the mess you made, you naughty girl. Wet the whole bed," he groaned and his pants felt painfully tight against him now, but he wanted you to do it again - needed you to. 

You were whining his name so sinfully when your head rolled off his shoulder to watch his fingers disappear into your needy cunt as another orgasm hit you. Another wave of clear liquid sprayed out of you as Katsuki moaned in your ear from how tight you were squeezing his fingers. 

Once you caught your breath, he rubbed slow, lazy circles on your bundle of nerves to help you ride the high out and chuckled softly at how you squirmed around from the overstimulation.  

"You better not tap out now baby. Gonna do it again around my dick, yeah?" His words resembled an order,  more than a question and all you could do was nod, addicted to this newfound pleasure. 

The sound of their collective panting filled the air, the thud of fists against skin echoing off the walls as they tested each other.

Quick jabs, hits to the ribs; it was push and pull as they were nearly on equal ground, two decorated professionals with national titles.

You had to keep a close eye— track his movements to take note of any injuries, run over how exactly you would deal with each one. It was your job to.

But, admittedly, you found your gaze wandering against your will lately. More often than you wanted to admit.

It was difficult to ignore the way his biceps flexed with each jab, how soft blond tufts fell over his face, stuck to the sweat lining his forehead, the low hang of his boxing shorts highlighted his abs straining with each motion.

"Fuck!"

The sharp curse broke your trance, eyes snapping up, immediately alert.

Eijirou's hands flew over his mouth, his fighter's stance softening, hesitant hands reaching out towards his friend whose head was angled down, fighting to not reel.

"Woah, man, I am so sorry—"

Katsuki slapped his hand away, wiping at the blood beginning to drip down his nose with the back of his hand, unyielding eyes meeting Eijirou's.

"Keep it goin', Shitty Hair. And you,"

He didn't bother to look at you as you approached, keeping his burning stare on his opponent while waving you off with a harsh motion of his free hand. "Get back."

His bite was nothing new. You didn't bother to fight the eye roll, stepping closer to assess the extent of the damage. "Don't be dumb. Let me look."

"You deaf or something? Beat it."

More blood trickled down, coming over the curve of his lip. You had worked with Katsuki long enough to know that he pushed himself until he was battered, had nothing left to give.

Your job was to keep that from happening.

With a sigh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow.

"You are gushing blood. Come on—"

"Get your fuckin' hands off me, you piece of—"

"Again, don't be dumb—"

Eijirou blinked between the two of you, watching as you wrestled to keep Katsuki's arm in your grip, ineffectively attempting to drag him away. With a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, he began to take backwards steps towards the bench where he kept his water, knowing there was little else he could do in this situation.

"I'm gonna take five. Go with her, man."

Feeling Katsuki's resistance give in just enough, you tugged him towards the med bay, giving Eijirou a grateful look over your shoulder. You hoped he didn't feel too guilty. Sparring was never supposed to get this intense, after all. But, mistakes happened.

You offered soft apologies under your breath to the few nurses on the same late shift as you were with a tight smile as you rushed past them to guide him into the room at the very back, shutting the door behind you.

It was just you two now.

Katsuki was still panting, worked up from the fight. There was probably enough adrenaline in his system to keep him from feeling the real pain of his affliction.

You pushed him back onto the bed against the wall to your right with a hand over his chest, feeling the warm muscle rise up and down under your palm before you turned to rummage through the cabinet, fishing out a medical kit with a crease forming between your brows.

"Are you trying to get yourself put on medical leave before your match next week?"

He didn't say a word, only the sound of his heavy breathing filling the room as you felt his glare against your back.

You sighed.

"Right before I get off too..."

"Yeah," He scoffed, a mocking edge to his voice. "'Cause I did that shit on purpose."

"You kept pushing. That was stupid and you know it, the best athletes know when to call it quits."

Katsuki scoffed, his jutted lower lip pursing as you set down the kit beside him, opening it up to fish out some gauze. "Maybe we should get you in the ring. Since you're such an expert."

You pushed his thighs apart with an unimpressed look, standing between them to get as close as you could.

A hand went behind his neck, gently tilting his head down so the blood wouldn't trickle back into his nose, go down his throat.

You carefully pinched the sides of his nose bridge to stop the blood flow, wiping away at what had escaped with clean gauze.

“You love making my life harder,” you muttered under your breath. “Can’t you just admit I'm right? Say you’ll be more careful?”

“The day I say that shit you can put a gun to my head.”

You rolled your eyes, but he continued.

"I don't say shit I don't mean," he sighed out, abs flexing as he winced slightly. “If your meddling ass didn't get in the way, I would've won.”

“Or you would've gotten your ass beat, but whatever.”

“I've had worse. A fucked up nose is nothing."

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" you raised a brow, getting a new piece of gauze. "You never know when to stop, Katsuki. That's your issue."

The room settled into silence only the hum of the AC, your shifting, and the quiet, reluctant winces that slipped past as you tended to him.

His eyes never left you.

Sometimes, you wondered why.

Why he allowed you to treat him, why he let you get close. But you shook yourself out of those thoughts, reaching down to grab an ice pack. No time to get sidetracked, not now. Especially on something that was very likely nothing.

"Bleeding stopped."

He didn't respond, eyes downcast as you alternated between pressing it to either side of his nose bridge.

When he finally spoke, his words were quick. Quiet.

"I was going for his blind spot."

Said like he had to explain himself to you, or maybe himself.

But he didn't have to. You knew that his slip ups were extremely rare, he never made the same mistake twice— he beat himself up over every error, obsessed over earned perfection, victory.

His high standards for himself were what got him so far, but you knew they got to him. That, quietly, he sometimes needed reassurance, like anyone would.

“I know you were.” you finally responded, voice gentle, without pity.

"Eijirou's right side was open and he was getting tired. That was the right move. You would've gotten him."

He blinked down at you, as if assessing your honesty before a slight smile touched his lips. He gripped the edge of the small bed a little tighter, leaning down closer.

"Knew you were starin'."

Your heart jumped in your chest, but you pushed it down.

"Well, that is my job."

"It's your job to watch for injuries. Not stare."

You couldn't help what came out of your mouth next.

"Maybe I was staring at Eijirou."

"You think you're so funny."

"I think your ego's inflated."

"Wanna say that again?"

You pressed the ice a little too harshly into the side of his nose, drawing a small groan from him.

"Save it, Katsuki."

You packed up your kit and gathered the bloodied gauze to throw away, rinsing your hands before coming back to assess your work.

Blood clean, no signs of continued bleeding. A small bruise forming under his right eye from the trauma, expected.

It took everything in you to ignore the weight of his eyes, how he looked at you with an intensity reserved for his opponents in the ring. Calculating, searching. You could feel the burn crawling up the back of your neck. Professional, keep it professional.

You nodded a little too quickly, turning on your heel. "Yep, all good. No more sparring, but you can go back now."

He tugged you by the back of your shirt collar before you got too far, pulling you back between his legs, face only inches away from yours.

"You don't want that."

The sudden proximity along with his words made your heart spike, as if caught.

What did you want? The question made you uneasy.

(Or, maybe it was the answer that you knew deep down that made you want to crawl out of your skin.)

You pushed back slightly, deflecting.

“I want you to see Dr. Tanaka as soon as you can. I'll make an appointment for tomorrow morning since he left for the day. I think your nose is broken.”

“No it's not.”

It wasn't. If it had been broken, you would've known from one look, you would have been angrier with him. But that was your out, your excuse to get away. And he had called your bluff, gaze unmoving.

"Don't play dumb right now."

“I'm not playing dumb." the words came snappy, brave; but you were just so close, that fire faltered. His hand that had gripped the back of your collar had shifted carefully to the front, so close to your neck that you were afraid he might feel your heart try to burst out of your throat.

"You're just…" you trailed off, struggling to find your words. "…difficult. You're being difficult.”

"Difficult?" a dry sort of laugh. "You're the difficult one. For someone smart you can be pretty fuckin' dense."

You bit the inside of your lower lip, eyes darting between him and the door.

You knew what he meant. This back and forth between you was nothing new. But when it got too real you had always gotten away, said something and acted like nothing had happened once you cooled down.

The sounds outside seemed to be getting louder, closer. These doors didn’t have locks. Anyone could come in, find you like this. One of the nurses checking in, a gym goer looking for band-aids.

“Or maybe you do know. Hm?”

The question pulled you from your thoughts in an instant, made your eyes snap to his— first mistake. Once his crimson stare bored into yours, you couldn’t look away.

Could you have been that obvious? You thought your moments of distraction were fleeting, imperceptible to the average eye.

He had never commented on it before, slipping back to his normal self even after your closest calls.

But you should’ve known better. Katsuki Bakugou was not average in any sense of the word.

(Of course, he noticed. Of course he did.)

You sputtered something before you could think, just wanting to hear something other than the sound of your own thoughts.

"Some…someone could—"

"No one's gonna come in." his voice flat, dismissal easy. All matter of fact as he craned his neck down closer to you.

"Unless you want Eijirou to come in. Since you were, what, staring at him, right? That what you want?"

"What?!" the word was almost a squeak, high and taken aback. "That's not— "

You fought the strange heat crawling up your face by shooting him a look, eyes narrowing.

"Katsuki. I was joking."

He hummed.

(Unbelieving? Amused? A bit of both?)

"Sure you were."

You opened your mouth, then closed it. The deflections that had once come so easy were heavy on your tongue. There was no joke, no eye roll, nothing you could say to slip away. Not this time.

You sighed, next words defeated.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to be real with me." you could feel his breath against your lips; hot, charged. "Tell me you don’t want this, that you haven't thought about it.”

“Katsuki…”

It came out weaker than you wanted. Small, kind of breathless. Almost pleading.

For what— to let you go?

(To keep going?)

He kept egging, eyes not once leaving yours. “Say it. I'll stop.”

And you knew he would. Because he was being serious, you could tell by his voice— how it was low under his breath, softened. 

For you, he was being intentionally careful.

Just the thought made you want to cave. But the entire reason your relationship worked, why you were able to handle him, was because you didn't give in.

"There are rules about this sort of thing—"

"You think I give a fuck about bullshit rules?"

"Yeah, I know you don't." you gave him a look. "But I do. I could lose my job, you could get me fired, or…"

You swallowed back the rest of it.

He didn't have to know how it made you afraid, testing the fragile nature of this relationship. How giving in meant that all of this could shatter, that this could all amount to one big mistake.

Katsuki blinked, taking in your expression. He looked off to the side for a beat, lips pursing in thought before, carefully, he took your hands into his.

"You know I won't let that happen. I don't see any of the other shitty medics here."

You snorted a little. Because you did know. You cocked your head to the side, a small smile tugging at your lips. "They're not shitty."

He didn't retaliate, just raised his brows slowly. The truth of his words wasn't what mattered, it was the implication behind them.

(You're the one I see. You.)

His earlier words rang in your ears.

Tell me you don't want this, that you haven't thought about it.

You couldn't, because you had.

Countless times— whenever you watched him hover over his opponents, keep them locked underneath him, the heat in his eyes, a cocky smile on his lips.

He wormed his way into your mind, more often than not, late at night. When sleep couldn't find you and your bed felt exceptionally cold. Empty.

(Him. You imagined him.)

Denying all of that was exactly what you should have done. That would have been the rational thing to do, the smart thing.

But as you traced his face, followed the soft curve of his cheeks against the otherwise harsh lines, watched the furrow of his brow deepen ever so slightly, as if he, of all people, was nervous— you couldn't fight the feeling anymore.

Because you wanted to kiss him, and you wanted him to kiss you— more than anything.

Hesitantly, you brushed your thumbs over the bruises on his knuckles.

“No, I… I do. Want this, I mean."

Something in his expression shifted. Surprise, for a brief second, before that cocky gleam in his eyes that you had seen when he was in-action settled over his face. Only, a little different. (A little sharper, hungrier.)

"Yeah?" he pushed closer, nose just barely brushing yours. "You want this?"

Slowly, you nodded.

"Yes."

His gaze darted from your eyes and lips before the sliver of space between you finally disappeared.

The kiss was tentative, careful. So unlike him that it caught you a little off guard.

Soft. His lips were so soft against yours.

He kissed you like he was trying to figure out the shape of your lips, go slow enough to savor the moment, commit the feeling to memory. The hand near your collar came up to cup your jaw, angle your face just right.

You had thought about what this would feel like for longer than you would ever admit. Did he think of you the same way? Were you what he had expected?

When he pulled back just enough to breathe, he drank in your expression; your pretty lips plush and parted, wide doe-eyes blinking up at him.

He groaned, "Fuck it."

You yelped when calloused hands gripped your arms, hoisted you up like you weighed nothing, thick biceps flexing as he pulled you down to straddle his thigh.

You planted your hands on his chest to steady yourself on instinct, unable to process it for a second. Your thighs were around his leg, his hands at your waist, holding you in a way you had only ever thought would exist in the secret fantasies you let yourself indulge in. The small bed creaking under your combined weight. His chest rising and falling under your palms.

Sometimes, you forgot how strong he actually was. How he wasn’t just some other annoying, short-tempered guy— his body was molded to his profession; brute strength and jagged lines carved from a life in the ring. His shoulders broad, a tapering waist, arms nearly the size of your head. He could probably pick you up and snap you in half if he really wanted to. Your stomach flipped at just the thought.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, he flexed the muscle of his thigh; deliberate, testing. Sharp eyes watching as your face flushed at his bare muscle pressing up against your core.

Your breath hitched, warmth pooled down between your legs, heart beating in your ears as his large hands slid down to rest over your hips, holding you steady— pulling you down closer.

"Feel good?"

Your ears burned at the mocking edge to his voice. You squirmed, caught between wanting to slap that smug look off his face and slowly seek more friction by grinding down.

You didn't have to choose, not when his hands slowly guided your hips down, back and forth against his hardened muscle. You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, clearly embarrassed, ineffectively fighting the whimpers that threatened to slip past with each movement.

His gaze never once left you, taking note of every little reaction.

Heat crawled up your face at being watched so shamelessly.

Leaning forward, you distracted yourself by pressing soft kisses up the side of his throat, staring to grind down on him yourself, your tongue darting out before gently sucking soft marks into his skin.

He let out a strained sigh, tilting his neck back just enough to give you more access.

You hooked your arms loosely around his neck, pecking across his jaw. Your fingers curled into the hair at his nape, giving it a soft tug, pulling his head back so his eyes met yours.

Pupils blown, eyes heavy with want, hair falling over them all messy and disheveled.

You didn't know how you had gone so long without this, how you could have ever wanted to keep your distance. Now that you let yourself have a taste, you didn't think you could ever get enough.

Tugging him to you by the hair, you pulled him to kiss you again.

This time, it was feverish, insatiable. Months of tension and denied desire pouring over all at once.

He kissed like he was still chasing you; like he had something to prove, like he wanted you to feel that you were his favorite taste. A clash of tongue and teeth, nipping at your bottom lip. Each time he pulled back to breathe it lasted less than a beat before he rushed back to steal the soft sounds that slipped past your lips as your hips continued to buck against his thigh.

But the fabric, it was in the way. No matter how hard you grinded down on him, there was too much between you and what you wanted, and the frustration was showing. Your slight sighs turning into small huffs, brows pinching against your will.

The next time Katsuki pulled back, you didn't let him kiss you again. The small string of saliva between your lips broke as you spoke, softly panting. "I want 'em off."

He looked down at your request, pinching the fabric of your pants between his index and thumb. Eyes looking up into yours carefully, like he was uncertain if that was something you really wanted.

You nodded, a little frantic.

"Off. Please."

He got straight to it. Getting them off wasn't pretty, but a controlled sort of desperate.

His movements were precise as always, fairly smooth, but you could feel that something was simmering under his palms as he moved you around to get them off just right, even more so when they finally rested over your bare legs, eyes slightly dazed as he gave the flesh a tentative squeeze.

You bit your lip at the feeling, skin burning under his touch, wanting it all over you.

You glanced down at your shirt.

"This too."

He scoffed, but there was something like a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Fuckin' bossy."

His hands slid under the hem, bunching the fabric up over your chest, too impatient to get it all the way off. He reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor as he took in the shape of your bare chest, the way your nipples hardened at the cool air of the clinic.

For a beat too long, he just stared.

On instinct, you wondered if something was wrong, if there was something about you that was weird or unappealing, the feeling twisted in you. But before you could tug your shirt back down, he cupped your tits with both hands, feeling the weight of them, squeezing slightly.

"Been waiting for this shit for so fuckin' long, y'know that?" He groaned out, leaning forward to bury his face into them.

You whimpered as he pressed wet kisses across the skin, thumb brushing over one of your nipples while his tongue lolled out to lick over the other, sucking it between his lips.

You began grinding down on his thigh again, the feeling so much more intense with just your panties on. You shifted your hips to find the angle that felt best, rubbing yourself down against the hard muscle of his thigh beneath you, solid and perfect, the friction sending sparks up your spine, your breaths coming out in shallow pants.

Each roll of your hips made your breath come a little faster, especially as his mouth pulled off one of your tits to give the other a fair share of attention.

Your nails dug into his shoulders when he nipped at your chest, sucking harshly, catching your sensitive peak between his teeth just to hear you whine. His tongue was hot against your skin, wet and needy.

Katsuki could feel your arousal starting to coat his thigh, soaking through your panties, smearing over his leg with every drag of your hips. Smiling against your chest, he pulled back with a soft pop, looking down at the glistening mess you left behind.

He moved a hand down between your bodies, slightly nudging your hips up with his leg to give him enough space in between to feel you over your panties, the fabric evidently damp as his index and middle finger stopped right above your clothed clit, pressing against it just slightly, enough to pull a shaky sigh from your lips.

"All this from just my thigh?"

There was a smug, slightly demeaning tone to his voice, like he was surprised you were so wet, as if it wasn't his fault. It made you want to throttle him. Or kiss him. Or both.

Your brows furrowed. "Shut up."

He only chuckled, drawing a line down your clothed slit. All slow, agonizing. Self-satisfied at the soft whimper that slips out of you.

"It's a simple fucking question. Haven't even touched you properly yet."

You huffed, mustering your most serious expression to meet his eyes. "God, just quit teasing, Katsuki. You're being mean."

He raised his brows, that smile on his face only widening. "You think this is mean?"

Finally, finally, he hooked his fingers into your panties, pushing them aside. The first touch, skin-on-skin, made you gasp. He dragged his fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, slow and deliberate, before circling your entrance.

"I can show you mean."

His eyes were locked between your legs, watching his own fingers move. "Look at you," he murmured, almost to himself. “Fucking soaked."

He pushed one finger inside, slow enough that you felt every inch. You whimpered softly, walls fluttering around him.

He groaned softly, watching your face contort, feeling himself get even harder in his shorts.

"Tight," he breathed. "Gonna add another. That okay?"

You nodded frantically, beyond words.

The second finger stretched you more, made you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning too loud. He worked them deeper, curling them slightly. Your chest heaved at the intrusion you fought to not cry out, your nails digging into his shoulder as he hit just the right spot.

"There?" His voice was rough, satisfied. "That the spot?"

You couldn't respond, forehead falling into the crook of his neck, clinging to him as he curled his fingers again, rubbing that soft patch inside you with devastating precision.

Once he found it, he didn't stop, pumping his fingers in and out, hitting it with precision each time.

You grinded down into his hand, feeling the heel of his palm press up against your clit. You chase the feeling, shameless. Lost in the sensation, the overwhelming feeling of him all around you.

You mumbled into the skin of his neck incoherently about how you were: "Almost… 'm gonna…"

You could hear his voice right by your ear. Hoarse, determined.

“Yeah?” his efforts nearly doubled. “Close?”

You could only nod, coherent thoughts gone from your mind, only a desperate haze of want.

"Yeah. Yes. Please, please more…"

He kept at it, silently savoring your desperate sounds.

You wrapped your arms tight around his neck, moans muffled into his skin as the tightly wound up knot came undone. Your breaths getting heavy in your lungs, head getting fuzzy, eyes fluttering shut, nails having left angry red lines down the skin of his upper back.

He ran a hand up and down your back as you collapsed against him, coming down from the high. He let you rest against him, breathing from a moment before pulling you back with a small kiss to the side of your head.

"Look at me."

It didn't sound like a request.

"Hm?"

You watched with hazy eyes as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, the loss making you whimper. They glistened under the harsh light of the clinic, coated with the evidence of what he'd just done to you.

He held your gaze as he brought them to his mouth. His tongue darted out first, licking a long strip up the slick-covered fingers. Then, he took them fully into his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes never once leaving yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. Heat flooded through you again, despite having just come. Tasting you off his own fingers like you were the best thing he'd ever had— it was almost too much.

When he finally pulled his fingers from his mouth with a soft pop, he smirked at your expression.

"Tastes good," he said simply, like commenting on the weather.

You clenched around nothing, already missing him inside you, feeling spent but somehow needing more.

"You're shameless."

"Last I checked, I wasn't the one humping your thigh."

Your face burned, a small, angry sort of pout settling on your lips.

He snickered, hand sliding up to your waist, giving it a small squeeze. "Little too late to get all embarrassed. Shit was hot."

"Uh huh…" You gave him a look, "Um. Thanks, by the way... that was—" You trailed off, not knowing how to express what you feel just the right way. "Good. It was good."

Katsuki snorted. "Just good?" you rolled your eyes, but leaned into his teasing with sweetness, something he didn't quite expect.

"Much better than good."

He searched your eyes for a beat, a hand coming up to brush back some of your hair. Then he pecked your lips— soft, almost sweet — before tugging your shirt back down carefully.

That was when you slowly realized, he was wrapping this up. But… he didn't cum?

He didn't cum.

"Hey, wait you didn't—"

He knew what you were talking about, the strained bulge in his shorts was nothing short of obvious.

"Does it look like I care."

His dismissal of his own need threw you off.

"Katsuki, that's not fair. I can't just—"

"Sure you can. You just did."

You turned his head towards you, pulling him into a soft kiss, parting his lips with yours, trying to not get lost in tasting yourself on his tongue. Gently trying to urge him to let you have him the way he had you.

You try to convince him, urge him to let you return the favor, do something.

You ran your hand over the bulge in his shorts, traced it gently, wanting. He groaned against your mouth, the sound strained in the back of his throat, like he was holding himself back. "C'mon, Katsuki," you palmed him over his shorts, wanting to hear more. "Let me? Please?"

He looked like he could give in, his jaw tense, eyes screwing shut as your finger hooked into the waistband of his shorts, drawing out a breathy sigh. You froze when the intercom crackled above you.

"The gym will be closing in ten minutes. Please begin wrapping up your sessions and make your way to the exit. Thank you."

You blinked. Fuck.

"…I can be quick?"

That was a lie. Ten minutes wasn't nearly enough time to do what you wanted to.

He waved you off with a snort, tugging your hand away from his throbbing cock, taking it upon himself to adjust the hem of your shirt with more care than you thought possible from someone like him.

"Relax." He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. "Shit’s not a big deal. Can take care of it in the shower."

The mental image of him standing under the shower, hand wrapped around his cock, thinking about this — you — made something low in your stomach tighten.

You must have made a face, because he huffed out a laugh.

"But if you want to make it up so bad," He leaned in closer, nose brushing yours. The soft curve of his lashes was so much more apparent this close. He pressed a final, lingering kiss, grinning softly as he spoke. His voice low against your lips, promising. "We'll go for round 2."

may blabs: baby's first smut dont throw tomatoes at me.. ok

btw if u ever genuinely have a bloody nose do NOT tilt your head back. that blood will go down your throat and if it gets into ur stomach u could throw up and that is not good so do NOT do that ✌️✌️

big special thank u to the mutuals ( @updownandbatty & @cupidkats & @hushedlotus ) AND irls i bothered w this fic… u are goated ❤️‍🩹

again, art in the header is not mine, credits to the artist !!!

taglist: @nanakamii 𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ :

so, when katsuki is flushed in the face and stumbling over his words at the class 1-A weekly get-together — hard liquor sloshing over the rim of the glass he’s barely holding in a late-night bar after patrol, chest warm and ruby eyes sparkling… no one is really surprised by his accidental slip up. the one in which he blabbers on and on about single mother he’s got a crush on. the very single, available, gorgeous ( katsuki’s own words, verbatim, mind you ) single-mother working at the front desk and in the receptionist department of izuku’s agency. of all places.

“she’s gonna me mine, ‘m damn sure if it. even that damned kid.” at the time he’d confessed it like it was a promise, swore up and down and to the stars that he’d have you — hardly deterred by the fact that you had a child, a whole life before him full of firsts you’d already completed. bakugou’s friends didn’t laugh even if he’d slurred and slumped over after knocking back the rest of his drink — they knew he meant it, they were happy for him because love hadn’t come easy to katsuki before. easy hasn’t come easy to him before. 

… and low and behold, everything with you, was like that. easy. like the drop of a hat. unlike troubled waters. from the day he met you at his childhood best friend’s agency — all the way until now. 

katsuki had noticed you randomly one morning. walking into that idiot deku’s agency to discuss strategy for an after school training session  the teacher had offered up to his students on kacchan’s behalf. it didn’t help that the blonde was already antsy, exhausted from paparazzi — he’d have made less of a fool of himself then. after making it through security, breezing through the lobby like he owned the place, bakugou is stopped by a slight and additional weight on his heavy orange-studded combat boots. he’d paused, all six foot something of his hulking frame taking up space in the bustling lobby, and then lifted his foot. 

thus, coming eye to eye with a kid no older than three or four — the type with an adorable little nose (thankfully clean of boogers) and bright eyes that practically reflect the fluorescent lights above. 

she’d beamed up at him then, chubby cheek perched upon the bend in his knee — unassuming, unaware of social cues, adoring him like he’s not capable of deadly things. her head tilted, smile widened to show the gaps in her baby teeth before whispering words that melted katsuki’s heart from innocence. 

“i like your boots. orange is my favourite colour!” 

his entire body had smiled with her. filled with a warm fuzzy feeling, akin to the flickering amber of a flame — extending from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. katsuki remembers it well, unfamiliar with the tight pull of his lips into a genuine grin. “yeah?” he’d laughed, a hybrid mix of amusement and surprise stretching through the sound, before prying the little girl from his knee and settling her safe on her feet so he could stoop properly to her level. “what’s your name, hah?”

“akari, momma calls me kari!” akari introduced herself with a practiced politeness that had surprised him at the time. a three year old runt with better manners he’d ever had.

tilting his head, bakugou then asked. “you lost, kid?”

“nuhuh. momma’s commin’,” she shook her head once, followed by the bounce of her curls very much stolen from someone else. someone who loved her too much and took care of her with every corner of their beating heart. heels click against the marble floor and accompanied by a shrill shriek — a mother’s voice only heard once reunited with their child, bakugou knew that voice all too well. his mother was the same.

protective. fearful. worried.

and then there you were, a vision coming straight into his ruby lined view — bounding up behind the child the pro hero bow crouched before.

you were picture perfect in your corporate-esque pencil skirt and matching blazer — shiny curls and locks pulled back into the a professional style perfectly suiting your hair type, not a part of you out of place… except for your frazzled expression and the wild look swirling in your eyes, panicked for your child. “i am so sorry,” you’d gotten out in a rush of syllables and letters that sounded all too pretty coming from you. a complete ( entirely too stunning ) stranger. “kari baby, i thought we agreed that you’d wait behind the desk until momma could take lunch. then you’d hang out with izuku—”

that had caught the explosive hero’s attention, head snapping up to the child in order to look for similarities and compare them to his old friend. “she his?”

there wasn’t any malice, only curiosity and a twinge of jealousy that hadn’t gone unnoticed by you. people always talked, always asked — curious as to why someone your age and so young already had a three year old toddler in tow. perhaps you were paid off to keep hush about a celebrity affair, maybe you were married fresh out of university and widowed. however, this would have been the first time somebody had asked about akari’s father and looked like they’d wanted it to be them. 

“oh no,” waving a hand — you’d seemed bashful at the time, though bakugou couldn’t the lines of love etched into your features as you looked down at your daughter even then. “she’s all mine, i like to think. all the best parts of me that i need to keep safe, all the parts of me that i wish someone else had protected,” it was more than the answer that he expected, and somehow just what katsuki needed to hear — to know that not only were you single; but someone who loved others oh-so dearly and with their whole entire soul. too good for the world and  anything in it. “did you need to see him? izuku? he’s uh—in a meeting right now, free in an hour… i can ring you up—?” 

your words became spaced out between the way you’d bounced your baby girl on your hip and sashayed your way back to the front desk to book bakugou in — your eyes only finding his, albeit shyly, once you were safely behind the thick oak and computer systems that groaned to life after getting back online, ready to take his details.

bakugou took one look at you in that moment, squirming under his fiery gaze and then shifted his line of sight over to your baby — all happy and smiles, despite being stuck at work with her momma. bakugou thinks, really, just for a moment. if he does this, there’s no going back or being normal — there’s a mother and a child on the line… but he can’t deny the skip in his heart, one he hasn’t felt since the damn thing kickstarted after his death, he gets just from looking at you, being in your presence.

he wants to live without regret, remember than in his line of work every day could be his last so there’s no point in holding back. when you shift awkwardly, raising a brow under the suspicious looks from your coworkers — katsuki catches on, leaning his forearms against the desk politely and subtly flirtatiously. 

“hold that thought,” he breathed, exhaling his nerves. “how about, you give me your number first ‘n then ring me up to that nerd — i-i mean, izuku?” 

despite the low blow at your boss, you couldn’t help but flash him a flirtatious grin — endeared by the blush blasted across the brave hero’s hardened features. it’s only when you’re scribbling down your digits for him on a post-it that katsuki realises his success. 

and from there, the rest is history.

it starts slowly.

bakugou making a home for himself in the outer shell of your mundane life. he paints the walls of said home, your daily routine, with colours of amber and orange and happiness in the form of your daughter’s soft giggles and date nights that make you feel like a proper human adult again — outside of your role as a mother and a matriarch. 

that day at deku’s agency, he’d taken your phone number and then taken a crack at your carefully guarded heart, peeling back its paper mache layers and all, the ones that stop you from falling apart after the bullshit akari’s biological father put you through. the blonde pro hero promised to take care of it, of you, over wine after hours on your terms and at your place, never his, because you have a little human to take care of and katsuki could never question that. he makes a promise to commit to your little girl, not just you — not replace the place of her father but be someone the two of you can lean on when you really need it, when you feel like asking.

so there had been dates for two only ever when you had the time in your busy schedule for katsuki and sometimes dates for three when your parents were too tired in their older age for childcare and the sitters all fell through. katsuki bakugou, known for thinking fast and being sharp on his feet, always adjusted the plans he'd made to fit three. 

fancy dinners catered to spoil you turned to lord dynamight in your kitchen after a late shift and a school run — making spaghetti bolognese with hidden veggies to get your daughter to have her five a day. romantic weekend getaways turned into road trips that included an educational outing to a museum or the aquarium — scrapped knees hanging over katsuki’s shoulders, new and matching keychains from the gift shop clipped to his car keys and her little backpack whilst the two wore twinning caps to cover their faces. identified hidden away from the paparazzi just for a weekend. shopping sprees where you’d end up draped in luxury morphed into grocery store runs on a sunday — narrowly dodging press and cameras as katsuki battled with your baby girl over which cereal was best for her growing teeth and bones.

it didn’t matter what he wanted to do with you or when he wanted to do it — if you needed it, your daughter fit right in too. 

as time went on, your clothes and her shoes ended up in all four corners of his place. two extra toothbrushes alongside his, unicorn themed toys and fairy princess tea sets dotting sleek black furniture which sort of needed to be baby proofed? 

in turn and as some form of wholesome payback —  you made a home out of katsuki’s actual home.  brought him a warmth not even his quirk could provide, and he was happy. just you three turning into this domesticated version of a family he never quite thought he’d deserved. it felt like you were becoming a unit, especially after meeting his parents — your angel akari dressed to the nines in the sweetest little dress and you dolled up so nice the man could barely keep a straight face as his mother gave you the once over. there were two extra places set at the dining table from then on, one for you and one for your daughter. courtesy of mitsuri, who loved you both oh so much.

then one day, everything sort of…shifts.

throughout your relationship and to your daughter, bakugou was known as ‘momma’s hero friend’ or ‘mister dynamight’ on occasion. even if you’d talked about it extensively, late nights curled up under blankets whilst conversations of the future hang in the air, you’d laid down the law and let katsuki know the reality of fatherhood. you weren’t looking for a replacement and certainly not for someone who’d tear your daughter’s heart in two when worse came to worse. he knew that, he accepted it right away.

because he never wanted anything more in his life. all the parts and pieces of you, he wanted to keep to himself — even the little ones with minds of their own like akari. katsuki bakugou wanted all of it. the tears, the laughter, the anger. it would be his to keep, so help him. 

so, your daughter knew that katsuki was something precious to her momma just like she was. that you kissed sometimes and held hands like other parents, she enjoyed it. innocent in her happiness for her mother, believing in a childlike way that there would be a fairytale ending in which her mother would get her handsome prince in the form of her favourite hero. 

having him around meant more smiles, staying up past bed time and sometimes sweet treats before dinner if she could convince him hard enough. it meant being picked up from school in the coolest car on the block and getting to brag to friends about how many pro heroes come over for dinner on a wednesday night ‘cause that’s when momma makes pizza. 

having dynamight in her life meant you were happy, brighter than when it was just the two of you and in some child-like way — she recognised that. kids are smarter than adults give them credit for. 

akari tells katsuki that she likes him, one night when he’s staying over and able to tuck her in. she asks him to stay forever in the middle of reading a bedtime story from school. peace at last, it’s called.

katsuki kisses her head as he turns the page; a silent promise. he doesn’t trust his voice to speak as the warbled vowels and consonants cause an ache in his throat. 

convention season rolls around at the end of the school year, like a step into the summer break that calls for fun, family and free time. naturally, work never slows for your explosive pro hero boyfriend — petty crime picks up under the blistering warm of japan’s sun, burning the backs of necks and kissing cheeks until they’re rosy with heat stroke. yet, between stolen bikes and ice pops from elderly vendors on street corners — katsuki makes time for your makeshift unit of three, he holds the towels and the blue cooler filled with crunchy ice chips when he’s got time off to visit the beach and he takes your daughter to swim class at the outdoor pool on weekends to keep up with her lessons. even at work, there’s space for you two. 

bakugou gets you tickets to nearly every one of the annual conventions, hero or comic con, that he’s forced to sit at — do panels and press junkets and fan meets for. in the weeks leading up, where he stays at your place instead of his and takes refuge in the blanket fort he’d spent hours constructing with your baby ( now passed out amongst stuffed animals and fairy lights ), the blonde tells you he’s not cut out for the work that goes into being a pro hero. the social side. the smiles and the cameras and the encouraging messages to strangers with struggles a little different from his. 

you smile, jamming a thumb into the crease between his brows and circle it teasingly. “careful.  you’ll get wrinkles, hot shot,” you hum, turning on your side and curling into the beat of his heart. “what if we come with you? a familiar set of faces in the crowd… i’m sure kari would love to see you in action too…”

it doesn’t take much convincing, not with the way you’ve taken to drawing little shapes on katsuki’s broad chest — smiling softly to yourself like you, like your daughter, don’t already own every inch of him. he’s yours, as much as the both of you are his. no need for words or papers to promise it.

baby’s first time at one of your boyfriend’s conventions is full of endless chatter, big spending mini managing. she pleads with him to purchase something from nearly every stall in artists alley, pinning princess luna badges and littlest pet shop stickers to the gruff, grumpy hero’s edgy costume. she delegates which prints get signed and in what colour sharpies at katsuki’s autographing booth ( most in pink glitter, some in orange or red ) and then grows brave enough to ask a question into the mic when it’s time for the two o’clock hero panels. 

by your third, she’s already an expert at con crunching — demanding that she cosplay all versions of lord dynamight’s hero costume so they can match in every photo. by your fifth that summer, things go awry. 

the air is sticky in the way that’s unpleasant — like the residue of candy smeared across your hands, stuck to the groves in your fingerprints despite how much you try to wash it off. it’s the kind of heat that clings to the tightest parts of your outfit, makes your entire body flush with sweat despite it hanging in the atmosphere. there’s too many people around, fit together like sardines in a tinned can, and bakugou’s little family has grown weary from the day — the walking, the talking with fans and endless ‘s’cuse me’s and sorry’s that come with being in such an enclosed space.

the real icing on the cake, is when your job calls in with an emergency request half way through the fun.

“izuku’s assistant called out today, the convention flu is what they’re calling it,” you say with a smile that seems to fray at the edges — tugged upwards by fine strings of parenthood and exhaustion. a mini lord explosion murder dynamight sits hungry and second away from a tantrum on your hip. “i think he’ll need my help at his booth, he’s no good at conventions on his own.” 

“want me to take her?” he nods down at the fussy baby on your arm.

“no, you’re working, kats. i.. we don’t want to be a bother.”

you’re not. you wouldn’t be. it’d be my honour. he wants to say, but the worry lines on your pretty face tell him not to argue or make a scene — he doesn’t want to cause further upset. “then my sidekick’ll take her. she’ll be safe all afternoon. we’ll get her some food ‘n somethin’ shiny to occupy her, then we’ll be all good till deku lets you go. yeah?”

he leans in, pinching the chub of your baby girl’s cheek with such fondness you could mistake him for her father  — she whimpers, stomach eating her little insides but keens into his touch like she trusts him. “‘suki, ‘m hungry!”

“i know aka-chan, we’ll getcha somethin’ soon.” 

you look between the two and then the assistant who looks like he’s about to shit his pants. “i-i’m good with kids! i have little sisters!” his stutter makes you wince but you’re at your wits end, on a time crunch before the fuse on your little one’s appetite explodes. 

“okay,” you nod once but still unsure as you move into setting her on her feet before you — hugging her close to your legs. you’re trying to be better, at trusting and letting him help. after all, your baby, your akari might even trust him a little more than you. katsuki gets it, he’s never fought you on your decisions as a parent — since aka-chan is yours and the most precious thing you have. but this time, you’re letting go and giving into him, letting another piece of your heart drift to him over an open sea like he’s offered you a life line. 

you take it, firmly. “just…” you look up at his sidekick. “she’s got no allergies, but she’s sensitive to lactose. she’ll fight you on it, ‘cause she’s funny about her veggies but mae sure she eats them,” you instruct, strict. “her money is in the inside pocket of her backpack… she’s got a limit on how many toys she can get today but more art is fine and—“

“we’ve got it, right kiddo?” katsuki assures you, swooping down to be eye level with your grumpy baby. “you’re gonna be good while momma works, yeah? that idiot’s gonna get ya some food, take you to artist alley and then we’ll meet back here for my panel. how’s that sound?” 

“i am?” 

“you are. that’s what i just said, ain’t it?” your boyfriend bites his tongue. careful of cursing in front of a child. it’s cute that he does that.

akari toes the floor with her light up sneakers as if she’s tossing up her options — such a big decision for her age. eventually, the growling in her little belly out weighs the need to cling onto you and she topples into katsuki’s grip like it's home. “sounds good,” she looks up at you, pleading with puppy dog eyes to rival your own. “wanna go now momma.” 

“okay sweet girl,” you relent, brushing back her wild curls with tender affection. “be so good while i’m gone. you know what to do if somethin’ happens?” 

“look for suki or you ‘n scream as loud as i can!” she rolls up her sleeves, revealing his number written underneath yours on her arm. the sight makes bakugou’s weary heart clench at the inclusion. another little piece of your heart that you’re breaking and passing to him willingly. “ask an… n’dult to call you if i get lost.” 

you crouch on her other side — kissing her warm chubby cheek. “good girl, i’ll see you soon. i love you so much.” 

“love you more!” 

for an hour and a half you trust katsuki’s assistant with your daughter while the two of you work. the thought of her never leaves your mind, but you let yourself believe that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. until a very panicked sidekick calls you, terror streaked throughout the water colours of his voice, crackled and broken over the static of the con crowd. 

“m-mrs dynamight — i-i’m so sorry. i— shit, i turned my back for just a second to talk to and…aka-chan. i’m so sorry. i lost her.” 

in that moment, you hardly register the slip up on your name. the implication of being seen as katsuki’s missus rather than his long term girlfriend. his partner. it’s the farthest thing from your mind, especially with the most precious thing in the world to you… missing. all the cells and plasma that make up your blood run cold, icy enough the blue your lips and freeze you in place and time. the art of breathing becomes difficult,  staggered enough to deprive your heart and lungs all of all the oxygen that you need — it dizzies you so badly that you have to step away from the ebb and flow of izuku’s photo-op station. 

he doesn’t say anything aside from asking about your wellbeing with gentle forest eyes and brows twitched upwards. like a good man, he doesn’t question it when you say you need to go. now.

at first, katsuki pays no mind to his phone as it buzzes once in the middle of his panel — once upon a time you’d scolded him to hell and back about keeping it on silent all of the time, worrying sick about his safety after villain chases on TV. he learned is lesson since, and, usually, it’s nothing. 

a text about his day, a follow on instagram , the latest hero rankings and — sure, his sidekick was a little late to meeting up with him for the panel. and, yeah, you were still unfortunately wrapped up in business with your boss but katsuki believed it to be all under control. that his family unit was safe and sound. however, when his phone buzzes again half way through a question from a very nervous red-riot fan two seconds away from passing out — the blonde pauses, pushes through his answer with a curt politeness not even the head of PR could pull from between his perfect pearly white teeth and then lets his friends lead on the discussion, stories of their uprising to heroes and who’s got the best suit.

useless, pointless, fan-fanatic bullshit that doesn’t matter — not right now, not when vermillion eyes are laced with sheer terror and a level of panic katsuki hasn’t felt since dying bursts painfully through his lungs. 

YOU: akari’s gone. your sidekick said she’s missing.

YOU: have you seen her? is she with you? 

YOU: maybe she went back to the panel ??

YOU: kats… i can’t find her

suddenly the room feels too big, there are too many cracks and crevices in which a little girl could get lost. stray hands, suspicious snarls flash behind his eyes — anything could happen to her, especially in a place like this full of people with both good and bad intentions. conventions are loud, busy and overwhelming even to the most sturdy of adults, let alone a girl just barely over three feet. 

discreetly, he pings you a message. he’ll take care of it, if you, the little girl his heart was already falling in love with and willing to keep as his own. the pro hero fires another one off to his agent across the room — catching her clipped demeanour slip for just a second, brief fear flickering across stone cold polished features before she pieces herself back together. she leaves the panel area, swiftly conducting her own search. 

everyone is scared of a missing child, everyone automatically assumes the worst… but for katsuki bakugou he feels so much more intensely. he knows you; how you can barely stand to be separated from your daughter for more than a mere moment — after all, you are the only person who pulled herself apart to deliver such a sweet baby into the world. the only one who suffered through late night feeding and the terrible teething tantrums. through and through, you are that girl’s mother and he, a person you trusted to keep akari safe. 

it’s taken you a lot to open up to bakugou, let him bear the brunt of parenthood alongside you after facing it all on your own for so long. and now, the culmination of your life’s work and love has disappeared within an instant — no thanks to him. 

his heart races like he’s lost something of his own, nausea curling around the tangled organs in his stomach — twisting his thoughts into the worst possible outcomes. katsuki, for the first time since dying in his late teens, is terrified. questions without answers, ones where his brain confuses reality with the cruel diction of his mind start to filter through — is she hurt? is she sick? did someone take her? 

the blonde must have visibly paled, all colour from his golden skin and dangerously vibrant red eyes has drained away as though someone has sucked the colour from live film, because kirishima nudges him — smile weak, barely there and suddenly the typically explosive number two hero is all too aware of the bright lights and phone screens and mics and curious eyes all laser focused on him. 

“you okay, blasty?” the red head whispers, drawing his mic away from his sharp-toothed mouth.

bakugou blinks once, twice — pulse erratic beneath his skin. he needs to go, needs to find her now. “what?” he snaps, without meaning to be vicious. “huh?”

“it’s your question, dude…” kaminari speaks this time, tone etched with worry, from katsuki’s left. 

everyone is watching, waiting, preying on his next move and all he can think about is the thought of your baby — hell, his baby, scared and alone and possibly with someone else. someone dangerous. the brutish pro’s gaze scans the room, picking apart hair colours and face shapes trying to identify the kid and even flickers momentarily to his agent, who only offers him a frightening frown. no luck. fuck.

lifting his mic apologetically, mask suddenly too tight around his eyes and hero costume sticky against his scarred skin, katsuki takes a deep breath to steel his nerves. calm himself before the real pressure hits. 

“listen guys, fuck, i think i gotta—”

“daddy!”

before he can even think of what to say, how to apologise for ditching a panel to search for a kid that isn’t even biologically his — the little girl he’s so desperate to find barrels through the left lane of chairs that form his audience. akari’s sweet brown eyes are wet with enough tears to make up the volume of water in her teeny tiny body and her voice is shrill from crying. she runs past fans patiently waiting to ask questions to their faves, but bakugou can hardly care less — he matches her pace, stumbling from his seat down to the bottom of the stage where he scoops the tiny toddler into his burly arms. 

cameras click, the crowd coos but all he can focus is the little girl quivering in his hold — her tiny fingers curling into the latex of his costume bound to all of his muscles, softening the embrace. “hey, hey. you’re okay,” bakugou mumbles against her hairline, hugging the back of her head to keep her close. “what happened, baby? y’get lost?”

she nods her head babyish as though she’s afraid of getting scolded and tucks her face further into his strong neck. “did everythin’ you ‘n momma said, stayed put a-and asked n’dult for help!” the tighter he squeezes her, the more akari relaxes — her hiccuped sobs retreating into small shaky sniffles.   “showed ‘em your number on my arm n said my daddy was doin’ a play here. they helped me find you.” 

katsuki doesn’t care about the snot on his clothes or the tears seeping through to his skin — the adrenaline stops him from focusing on it, heart racing faster than it would during any fight or patrol, only slowing once he’s got her safe and sound. 

“that’s good, bug, did such a good job.” he smiles softly, dazed and dizzy by her safe return and maybe the fact that she’s called him dad. twice.

little fingers and tiny hands gesture towards the two starstruck teens dressed, funnily enough, as bakugou and deku. he gives them a wave, makes a mental note to sign their shit later and get a photo. he’ll kill his sidekick afterwards. “did so good, aka, betcha mom’s worried sick.”

she makes a hybrid sound, half way between a whine and a groan — flinging little chubby arms around his neck as if they could get any closer than they already were. bakugou hums then, shoots a nod to his agent and hauls the little girl up to sit on his hip comfortably. as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if a toddler who no one knew about hasn’t just screamed ‘dad’ and cried his name, the blonde breezes back up to the stage and resumes the panel — seating your daughter in his lap and whilst the audience ooo’s and aww’s at her adlibs between questions.

she is a professional hero too, after all. 

eijirou entertains big brown eyes and a fidgety toddler with his hardening quirk between questions, denki creates static in soft tendrils of hair which makes akari look a little bit more like bakugou. she paws at the mic to tell fans that their costumes are so cool and overall, her mood improves… because to her, katsuki is safe just like mom is. he’s home. someone she can trust. 

he texts you an update, large palms curling around akari’s tummy to keep her sturdy.

KATS: stand down momma.

KATS: found akari, kid came to me all on her own.

KATS: meet us at the panel?

it’s not until one of the jittery teens who just so happened to rescue the baby girl bundled up in lord dynamight’s arms, that his attention ticks — gratefulness carved into his features, spread across this absentminded smile, pulling at thick sunny blonde brows. katsuki holds her a little tighter now, jogging his knee up and down to keep her soothed whilst she sits across his thighs, now playing with a pen someone had handed to her.

“has anyone ever saved you? like… the way you save other people?”

the question drops like a flare in the night and while the other pro heroes answer both light and airy with their words — katsuki can’t help but mull it all over. has he been saved before? yes. more times than he can count and whether he wanted it or not. there have been a myriad of instances where someone, somehow has kept him alive with just words or a thoughtful gesture even when he didn’t deserve it. 

but he knows now, that no matter what he’s done or said in the past — his life matters. his existence has been earned and he’s repented for his mistakes. if katsuki hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here. with you, with akari, with his friends right alongside him chatting away about the superficial things with the people who keep his career steady and stable. in a way, you saved him, akari saved him — the realisation is as sweet as honey on his tongue because…

“yes,” katsuki answers without holding back, as if speaking his feelings is as easy as breathing in an icy gust of fresh country air. “y’know, sometimes, bein’ a hero — you forget to take care of yourself. s’all adrenaline and beating down the bad guys, but you don’t care what happens to you or your body in the process. just makin’ sure that everyone else is okay.” 

the blonde hero starts, occasionally poking the corner of his mouth with his tongue — deliberating on what to say next, what parts of his heart to share with the world where he’s usually so private. “but then there’s my kid ‘n my girlfriend. they care about the little bits of me that look invincible to everyone else, my little girl,” bakugou, despite holding the mic to his lips, presses them against the softness of akari’s hairline like he’s grounding himself. “she’ll ask me why ‘m so beat up ‘n bruised. play pretend doctor when ‘m over at her mom’s until she’s able to properly patch me up.” 

“having a family like this, blood or not, reminds me to take care of myself even while i’m doing my job.” something stirs in the distance, behind the crowd of convention-goers stacked up after rows of filled seats. “i started bein’ smarter during fights, gentler with the ones i know can go down easy. started thinking before jumping into it.” it’s just a little commotion. small, yet, urgent enough to catch the eye of the fabled explosive pro hero. he feels himself sit a little straighter, voice much more sure than before because through a sea of people — katsuki’s love lined ruby eyes find yours. a little frantic with motherly fear, a little glassy as if you’d been listening to him speak this whole time. “you know, taking care of myself for the people who care about every bit of me.”

then you’re melting on the spot, all the tension in your shoulders eases and turns into pure relief once you spot your baby wriggling about on the edge of bakugou’s lap as if she’d always belonged there and been a part of him. “so when i say, yes, i’ve been saved. i don’t mean in the physical way,” the hero ends his speech with a small nod your way, all of his heart entirely yours — signed off to you like his name has been printed on a contract. “i mean in the way that family can, that being loved can.” 

at first, the audience is quiet — not in a way that’s awkward or pained, but the type of silence that makes you think. drink in the moment and appreciate what you’ve been given. although the air tingles with warmth, the subtle scent of love mingling with every quiet break taken — there’s some kind of emotive tension that thickens the atmosphere. in that silence, that tension, that quiet — katsuki finds you again. endeared and amused by the tears that threaten to spill over the apples of your cheeks, the acceptance on your face and the trust that underpins it. 

as if you hadn’t already known before, you know now that you can trust katsuki bakugou with the most precious thing you have.

off to the side, kaminari’s fond, amused laughter echoes through the mic and sends a warm vibration through the valves in your heart. “woah, dude, didn’t know you could be such a sap!” he jokes lightly, alleviating the weight in the room, though it’s not unwelcome.

“it’s not sap, i’m just being honest about real shit!” the lighter blonde retaliates with no malice behind his tone — everyone around him chuffs, entertained by the back and forth between two long time friends and amplified by a tiny hand slapping against his slightly stubbled cheek. the conventions have been busy, you like his peach fuzz but prefer when he shaves — only reminded by akari rubbing her little mitts over the gentle beginnings of a beard.

“thas’ a bad word, daddy. no swearin’!” 

it’s not until later that evening that everything hits katsuki all at once.

you’re in his bathroom, the one he doesn’t share with the three year old snoozing down the hall — brushing your teeth, face mask on, while his shirt hangs loose on your frame, swallowing you up because it’s however many sizes too big. he’s stepped back to give you some space, it’s been a long time since he learned not to mess with your night time routine — but katsuki’s grateful, it gives him a second to admire you, watch you move through his space as though you’ve always been there. in that moment, you look like home and everything he fights to come back to. in that instance, you feel like his family that he can’t see himself living without. 

bakugou pushes off the tiled wall he’s been leaning on, the surface cold in comparison to your heated skin as he wraps sturdy arms around you from behind. the sight in the mirror above the bathroom sink is one of domesticity, a head full of fluffy straw blonde hair tucked carefully into the junction between your neck and shoulders, a hulking man curled around you like he can’t get enough and his large, hands full of so much power, danger and love settled onto your soft stomach. it’s home. its safe. 

you don’t say a word but your body does the talking, sinking back into bakugou like you trust him to catch you if you fall. he moves with you, letting you finish off with your electric toothbrush — killing the buzz once you’re done with it before you swipe away the rest of your face mask. content to work in your arms. 

slightly chapped lips graze the base of your throat, heated and careful — the ghost of everything he wants to say pressed into your skin. 

calm stillness lingers between you both, your breathing syncs and you lean into one another because it’s been… a day. a day where the two of you have learned to give and trust in order to protect something you mutually love. you don’t push, you wait for the thoughts that turn to phrases into katsuki’s mind and only reach back to rake your fingertips through his sun-kissed hair, soothing his mind where it can’t catch up enough to let him talk. 

“she called me dad,” bakugou’s voice is gravelly, thick with emotion when he decides he trusts himself enough to speak. “not just once…like three fuckin’ times and i know what that means. how heavy that is. won’t ever ask her to say it again unless she wants to but i—”

he’s rambling, he knows that — he’s not the type to lose his cool. it’s taken him years of trust and battle scars to let other people see the sides of him that are vulnerable and weak and care so damn much. yet, with you, it all comes too easy. as natural as a heart beat or filling your chest and lungs with  oxygen.

in the mirror, katsuki catches the soft twitch of your lips up into an adoring smile — as though you’ve realised something about him, this. he goes onto say. “she called me dad and i… well, shit. i liked it. i loved it,” he hums against your neck, kissing in an attempt to hide his shyness in your baby hair. “and i swear, ‘m not talking shit. she’s your kid and i love her and i know what this means…but if you’re okay with it, if you want me to. i’ll step up, prove myself as someone she can call a father.”

“oh, katsuki…” 

turning in his arms, you can’t help but sniffle — taking his face between shaky hands and cupping his cheeks. for three years, you’ve done this all on your own. the late nights full of tears, the toddler temper tantrums and early mornings before school. toys scattered under your feet, styling hair where your mother never quite properly taught you how to do your own. you’ve braved it all by yourself, hardly ever asking for help and here, now, comes this brilliantly stubborn man who’s all rough around the edges and hardly cookie cutter ready to help you through it all. 

he wants to be a father, he wants to help you raise your little girl you’ve broken every part of you to protect. katsuki wants you to let him in for good, and your daughter does too. 

he sees your eyes start to twinkle with tears once more and that’s when katsuki laughs. quiet, breathy, fond. his scarred fingers sink from your waist to your ass, lifting you up until you’re able to wrap your legs around his hips. 

“you’ll get dehydrated if you keep cryin’ today, sweetheart,” you don’t mind the way he talks to you, all gentle and slow like katsuki’s bringing you down from an overwhelming emotion before it drowns out your voice. it’s so tender, reassuring to know that he’s got you. both you and your baby. “‘m telling you now. i want this. i want her to be my kid, swear to god she might as well be. i love her, love you,” he rasps like it’s a promise — swearing to the invisible crown atop your head. 

you press your forehead to his, eyes fluttering shut as you’re soothed by his confession. “today, when you said she was lost… i thought i’d die. don’t laugh at me! i did!” mushy gushy words dissolve into his deep, rumbling giggles that send a burst of warmth through your being — even if you’re a teary, emotional mess katsuki can still make you smile. “listen, i haven’t panicked that much since i was a kid. a stupid one who thought that i could handle the world,” bakugou sucks in a breath. you feel it coast warmly over your bottom lip. “i’ll do anything to never feel like that again, keep her close and safe ‘cause i feel like she’s mine.” 

“she is yours,” you say wetly, shaking your head of any tears that start to clump in your lashes. “she’s called you dad after all. you might as well be.” 

it’s a bashful ask, but it’s you finally opening up your heart and tearing your walls down — you’re letting katsuki be akari’s father figure if he wants to and he’d be a fool to say no. saying yes means more summers like this, more melted ice creams in the back of his expensive car and sticky fingers that cup his face until he makes silly expressions. saying yes means school pick ups and drop offs where bakugou catches akari bragging about how cool dad is. saying yes means seeing her grow, means birthdays and parties and sweet sixteens and maybe even boyfriends. or girlfriends. or partners. and stern talking to’s. ‘if you hurt my daughter — i’ll kill you’ kinda speeches.

katsuki never thought he’d say it, see it or get to experience it — but he can’t wait to learn and to grow with you. to become a father of exemplary to his own and those that reared him from the rough and unruly scrappy kid he was to the man adored by you and your child now.

whatever the future may bring, he wants it. he can’t wait for it. with the two of you close by his side. 

“and i’m hers. i’m all hers and all yours. got me wrapped around your fingers you do.” he promises quietly, the seriousness echoing into the thick of the night — really meaning his every word. 

you smile knowingly, teasingly and say. “we know.” 

with you still in his arms and a kiss chastely pressed against your salt streaked lips, katsuki pulls the string for the bathroom light and trudges back to the main bedroom, a buzz of excitement for the future hangs in the air — plans for a family, for a ring remain left unsaid.

but one thing that remains for certain, is that your daughter, sweet kari, will be included in all of them. as she had been before.

akari comes knocking when the moon is up high, barely slipping through the curtains as she pads bare foot into the bedroom katsuki shares with you tonight.

“daddy?”

usually you’d be awake and on it just from the sound of her little footsteps on the hardwood floor — jumping up in that way mums do where their eyes go wide and they pant like they’ve just been revived or come up for air. though tonight, you’re too exhausted to move, the fright from earlier on in the day and the struggle to wrestle akari down for bed has you more exhausted than you’ll ever let on. but katsuki knows you, he lets you sleep. taking this new duty on.

he stirs on instinct, call it fatherly, but his body moves without thinking — he sits up, throws his arms open despite the sleep caked to the corners of his eyes and welcomes your daughter, his daughter home. “hey princess,” bakugou coos, and, as if he’s handling a fine china doll, carefully lifts the baby girl into his lap — heart trilling happily when she snuggles into the molten center of his chest. “shouldn’t you be asleep? what’cha doin’ up?”

“wanted cuddles.” she yawns, head bobbing while she fights to stay up. her chubby cheek rests squarely against the blonde’s heartbeat, she’d never be able to tell it stopped once upon a time — not with the way it dully thuds against her teeny right ear. 

rhythmic like a lullaby.

katsuki nods once into the dark, tendrils of tiredness begging him to come back to bed. however, he was a child once upon a time — he too ( not that he’d ever admit it ) used to wake up in the dead of night searching for comfort. even in his teens. after he was kidnapped. after he died. she must be having bad dreams. he figures. probably from getting lost 

“you didn’t want any from momma?” the hero’s leg bounces, in the way he knows comforts akari — her little curls swaying with the rhythm. 

“mommy’s hands get cold.” she complains through another adorable yawn. “like your cuddles. y’warmer…”

bakugou grins at that, vermillion eyes dancing with so much love and adoration you might mistake the grumpy pro hero for someone else. he’d gone soft, he knew that, but anyone with two eyes and a brain could understand why. standing from the bed slowly, and now, shifting to stand by the window whilst bouncing a sleepy akari on his hip — he warms the palms of his hands with his quirk in an attempt to lull his baby girl back to dream land. “freezin’ aren’t they?” he whispers as he nuzzles the top of her head, gaze switching from the glittering city he protects, below — to the preciously perfect little one he now protects, in his arms. “s’okay bug, i’ll keep you warm then, right up until you fall asleep.” 

“promise?” 

“pinky,” the blonde confirms. “daddy’s gotcha.” 

“‘mkay…” kari somehow manages to get out, the syllables slipping away from her since she’s already drifting, fist curled into bakugou’s sleep shirt. “love you, daddy.” 

katsuki’s heart soars, the late night suddenly all too worth it. “love you too,” he murmurs softly, voice sweet like molten caramel as he rocks the little girl until her body relaxes with sleep. “to the moon and back, kid.” 

so yeah, katsuki bakugou always been good with kids, but with this one, he swears — he’ll be even better.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

he huffs, “yeah well whatever, you’re treatin’ him how you were only treatin’ me so now i don’t know where i am.”

you pout in sympathy for him, standing up close and linking your arms around his neck. bakugou can’t with you this close. body pressed to him, smelling so sweet and a little salty from the pool. he hasn’t slept with you yet and being this close is already too much.

“oh dynamight. you don’t need to be jealous, i promise i don’t treat anyone like i do you.” and your voice is so innocent, almost patronising and he still falls into it.

“you don’t? ‘cause you guys went to that painting class together without me.”

“because you were sleeping, hun. i’m not waking you up when i know you didn’t want to go anyway.”

it’s true, he had no interest in the class. just you.

the silence from him proves you correct so you continue, “i don’t treat him how i treat you. i like to kiss you and touch you and i really like looking at you. much more than him.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. and when you’re ready, i’m okay with doing a little more with you,” you tilt your head to the side, your grin so flirty and gorgeous. bakugou cannot handle you.

“you talkin’ about fuckin’ or me givin’ you head?”

and bakugou watches your succubus persona drop at his bluntness. you hit his chest, “katsuki!”

he smirks, bending to brush his lips against yours, “i want to be sure what i’m getting myself into.”

you roll your eyes, “yes i meant that.”

“good ‘cause i’ve been wanting to taste you,” he flicks his eyes up and down your body, “my rooms next to icy hot’s too so you can be as loud as you want.”

you pull away from him, “text me when you’re not jealous any more. i like you katsuki, not him.” with that you pat his chest and begin to walk away. you don’t get far when he wraps his arm around your waist, bringing you back to his chest.

you should be mad he just barged in, didn’t greet you and he’s already taking up space. he makes your furniture look like it belongs in a dollhouse and even though he’s a few metres away from your desk, it feels as if he’s under your nose, analysing your whole career.

yet, you eye his forearms, the veins that run up them, the chunky biceps that look constrained in his tee. the silver dog tag that rests between his pectorals and the black radio he’s got clipped to his pocket.

when his ruby eyes land on you they’re alight with interest though he doesn’t smile. instead, he seems curious standing in the middle of the room.

“i’m not the big boss, i have a manager too. just head editor,” you reply, feeling the urge to look in the mirror to check you look good. no fly ways or a crumb on your face and your blouse is on straight. 

“you’ve got an assistant and a big ass office with windows,” he walks over to them, peering at the city below. “i’d say that’s pretty important.”

you bite down on your lip, endeared. then your body fires up. last time you spoke… what he said.  i’ll eat your pussy, fuck you good too. oh shit.

“i’ve been in the company for a while, i had to fight for it.”

he nods at you, clearly impressed as you lean back on your leather chair behind your two pink monitors.

“i came to give back the tupperware from the cupcakes. they were damn good.”

you didn’t even realise the paper bag he’s holding. he plops it on the chair in front of your desk. he did say he would return them.

“thanks… you didn’t have to, i would have came by to get it.”

“no it’s fine. didn’t have fuck else to do in my break.”

everything feels heated, charged and suddenly you can’t remember all the points on your to do list. it’s a second too long of silence, staring at this man as he stares over at you. his lips are pouted like he’s about to whistle but then he relaxes when he stares at your lips.

you clear your throat, offer him the chair opposite your desk. he drops into it and you’re immediately overwhelmed at how he swallows it. fills it up completely, slouching slightly so his thick thighs have space to spread. he rests both arms on the rests, opting to look around your office again instead of your face.

your heart booms against your rib cage, you pretend to click something on your monitor to distract the fact your hands are sweaty.

“i can leave if you’re busy. i was gonna just leave them behind the front desk downstairs but the woman insisted i give them to you myself.”

you internally roll your eyes. okay, you can’t keep your own secrets and you told pretty much everyone you saw that you found the blonde firefighter who came over attractive. it’s your own fault.

“no!” then you clear your throat, “no, you can stay. sorry about them.”

bakugou has no clue what he’s doing here. he’s out of his depth. he’s used to his fire station and his men, stomping around with their rough humour and running whenever there’s an alert of danger nearby. he definitely isn’t used to being in a calm, colourful office sitting opposite a gorgeous woman. he can barely keep eye contact and equally can’t stop looking at you.

a few people walk past your windows looking out to the corridor, two ladies talking among themselves with books in their hands.

he can’t tell if you’re nervous but you keep biting down on your lip, looking at your computer screen and then back at him. he needs to say something, anything.

“did you bake those cakes?”

you smile, cheeks round, “yes! i enjoy baking when i have free time.”

he can’t stop himself, “a reader and a baker. i fuckin’ love that.”

your lips part, breath shaky and he sits up in the cream chair.

“i like to cook,” he blurts, “i… i cook for the guys sometimes. we have a kitchen at the station.”

“really? what’s your usual?” you rest your head on your palm, tilting your head. he could ask you to get down on your knees and you’d do it. especially with those suspenders running down his hard chest.

you notice the blush on his cheeks, “usually meals my ma would make back home, since they’re massive and can feed the family. stews, soups, noodles, you know,”

“you should bring me some. i usually just get sandwiches or pastas from down the road,” you flirt, “yours sounds tasty.”

he feels like a dog with the one aim to make his owner happy. “definitely. it’s only a twenty minute walk.”

“okay, i’ll be looking forward to it.”

he meant what he said when he texted you last, “when are you free for me to take you out? if you’re still up for it. it’s okay if not.”

katsuki cringes inwardly and then again when you start clicking around on your computer as if you’ve ignored him.

“sorry, have to check my calendar….,” you remember the text he sent you, that he wants to take you out before he does anything to you. your body feels like it’s on overdrive, overheating, overthinking and just needy. “friday evening?”

bakugou’s got no clue if he’s free then but he nods anyway. “yeah, yes. i’ll set somethin’ up.”

it feels as if he’d taken up too much of your time, so he stands up, dusting off his trousers. but not without asking, “what did y’mean when you said it felt like your last birthday? y’know, the day we came here for the false alarm.”

one of the interns accidentally hit the fire alarm in the staff kitchen, causing panic, sirens and an immediate call to the local fire station. everyone was dashing down the stairs to get outside but when have fire alarms ever been genuine? usually it was a drill or an accident so you took your time, saving your documents on your desktop and grabbing your bag while the alarm blurted in your ear drums.

you were last to make it out and immediately you were starstruck by the line up of firefighters outside your building. all five of them were chunky, muscled and gorgeous. it wasn’t just you that had hearts in your eyes, it was your colleagues too, flirting and talking to them like they were saved from a fire that didn’t even happen. you find your assistant and nudge her, “that one. i want him.”

the blonde looked mad, a frown planted on his face, the beige jacket with yellow hi vis only made him look larger. he’s got his helmet in one hand and he’s staring at his watch. he opted to not talk to the bustling groups of women, just standing by the door of the truck waiting to leave.

you took it upon yourself to walk over to him, a few of your colleagues following behind you.

“this reminds me of my last birthday.”

you say to your friends with a giggle and the purpose for him to hear. he only reacts with a raised brow but otherwise reactionless. until your friend says something to you and you feel his eyes scan you from top to bottom, eying your id badge hanging around your neck. you read his name on his jacket. bakugou.

you give him your signature flirtatious grin. pearly whites with shiny lips. cheeks soft and eyelashes fluttering. the man blushes, cheeks flushed red and you can swear his next breath comes out shaky. 

“you… you shouldn’t assume the alarms are drills. could get yourself killed,” he grits his teeth at you but he feels like he’s already lost.

“it was a false alarm, so i didn’t die this time,” you fold your arms across your chest, stepping over to him, “how did you know i assumed that?”

bakugou feels like he’s about to choke and die. you smell good. floral yet sweet. a delicious musk that has him wondering how your ass looks in that short black skirt you’ve got on.

“you’re the only one here with a bag. you also came down twenty minutes after everyone else,” he grunts, “in other words, you would have died.”

you pout, “don’t put yourself down, you would have saved me in time. you need to prepare for people like me…,” you read his name on his jacket again, “bakugou.”

he exhales through his nose, “or you can listen to the alarms like everyone else, yn.”

you roll your eyes, your smile not letting up while this firefighter named bakugou looks like he’s about to explode. 

kirishima walks over patting him on the back, “i checked their internals, everything’s fine. i’ll be back to replace the glass cover for their alarm.”

bakugou gives you one look before getting back into the truck and assumes he will never see you again. until you turn up a few days later at the station.

you laugh at katsuki, “now you want to know? it looked like you were about to spank me for coming down late.”

you notice his eyes darken and his hand adjusts his belt buckle, “i meant what i said then.”

you’ve got the same flirtatious smile as before and bakugou needs to grow some fucking balls if he’s going to handle you. take you out on dates and fuck you like he promised. 

“okay, mr firefighter,” and bakugou rubs his top lip under his septum just for a semblance of control, “my last birthday, my friends got me firefighters. they were dressed like you but there was no fire.”

part of him thought there was a possibility of a fire on your birthday, the other seventy percent assumed right.

bakugou huffs a strained laugh, rubbing his eyes, you’re back clicking something on the computer then back focused on him.

“you’re into that?”

“i’m into you. the uniform is a plus.”

he knows this, you asked to suck him off last time you were together. but still it doesn’t feel true, a woman like you, successful, beautiful and confident, into him? he can’t look at you without counting to ten in his head to regulate his breathing.

“i’ve got half an hour before i’ve gotta go back.” he grunts, leaning forward on his elbows. “d’you think you can listen to me for that long?”

heat swells in your lower stomach. you feel like jumping up and down to chant yes yes yes.

you narrow your eyes at him, “possibly.”

he points to the corner of your office where the windows to the corridor wouldn’t be able to see. only two people have walked by so far but more could. bakugou can’t have anyone see what he’s about to do to you.

“could you stand there for me? be a good girl?”

bakugou thinks he understands you. what you like, what you want, just from your small interaction at the fire station. how confident you are when he’s nervous over you, compared to how shy you get when he’s in control. 

he hears you inhale sharply, looking behind you at the corner of the room and then him. wide shoulders, the dog tag necklace swinging at his neck as he leans. you’re sure you’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, there’s no way you haven’t.

“what will you do to me?” 

his grin is slow as he stands. that fucking gold tooth, “come find out.”

you're out of your chair because what you’re not going to do is ignore this man who promised he will pleasure you. you’re not going to fuck in your office… unless, you shouldn’t but if he asks—

you press your back against the wall and he crowds you, both forearms by your head. his breath is hot on your face, craning your neck up to look at him.

“fuck me—,”

“oh my god, baby,” he hushes you, grabbing your jaw. he’s about to go insane, beat down all his morals just to give you want you want, “who’s left you so needy? always askin’ for my cock?”

you frown up at him, eyes defiant and sharp even though he’s squeezing your cheeks between your fingers. you fight back your whine at baby. you love hearing that come out his mouth. “nobody’s left me? i just…”

the annoyance wins over your arousal, about to push him off you but he grabs both your wrists with one hand, “i didn’t fuckin’ mean it like that. you just drive me crazy, so goddamn… sayin’ whatever is on your mind. whenever it’s silent i hear your voice.”

you’re still not a fan of what he said, “saying what?”

“that you want to suck me off. can’t get in the back of a truck without gettin’ hard.”

he entertains you by pressing into your stomach, large and long. you feel like squealing, unbuckling his belt and taking it in your hand.

“that’s what you deserve. after you said no to me then too.”

“i’m not fuckin’ you until after one date. i’ve got morals—,”

you poke his shoulder, “and you’re saying i don’t?”

he groans aloud, “no, baby.” 

nothing he says is coming out right, so he decides to start kissing your jaw, pecks that make you stretch your neck and your eyes flutter shut.

“wanna treat you right. learn shit about you before i fuck you,” he whispers, “it’ll be worth it.”

that almost makes your knees buckle, so you’re grateful he’s holding your hips to keep you against the wall.

“i’m never asking you for anything again,” you murmur, hands drifting to rake through his hair. “saying no to me twice.”

you sound flabbergasted, almost laughing at yourself.

“last time i’m ever sayin’ no to you, baby. after friday, you’re gettin’ anythin’ you want from me.”

he’s wrapped around your finger, you both know it.

“anything?” you tug one of his suspenders and katsuki practically growls at you. you’re too perfect, his idea of heaven.

“yes. fuck, let me touch you,” he kisses your lips, slides his tongue into your mouth and moans. it’s a good kiss, you won’t deny that, better than the last one you had in the truck. he bites down on your lip before tucking his face back into yours, sucking your tongue. 

a calloused palm lands on your thigh, a finger running along the hem of your skirt, “lemme touch you. have you come on my fingers, baby.”

you want to deny him like he denied you all this time, but you know it would feel good, especially with how he’s staring at you like he can’t imagine anything better.

“i—,”

your work phone vibrates on your desk, it’s your assistant downstairs. “i need to take it.”

as soon as you grab the device, accepting the call, bakugou’s got you back against the wall, his face in your neck, undoing two buttons on your blouse so he can kiss over your chest.

“hey yn! just wanted to ask if you wanted the delivery to go in your office for the meantime. it’s the special editions of that sports romance?”

you need to push him off you, shove this firefighter out and away so you can get back to work.

“yn?”

bakugou looks at you, lips slick with spit, laughing at you slightly. he mouths, “answer her.”

“y-yes sorry. reading something. keep them downstairs, i’ll get them later.”

when bakugou decides to strike, your mouth gapes open when the man gets on his knees, his fingers crawling up your skirt to grab the top of your tights. your eyes widen, you need to push him away.

“are you sure? the delivery men can bring them up, they’re quite heavy?”

he’s about to— fuck. he kisses over your clothes tights, slowly dragging your tights down over your ass. he looks up at you and smirks. you cover his face with your hand to protect your sanity.

“n-no it’s fine, i’ll get them after.”

he only kisses your palm, his hand coming to rub your heat between your legs. he rubs the fabric of your panties and you feel him hum in delight.

“okay, i’ll let them know? how was the firefighter? he was the one you liked when they came over, right? or was it the red headed one—

bakugou drags your hand off his face then, frowning with his lips unimpressed.

“i’ll tell you later. i’m going now.” you blurt.

“wait, is he still up there? i would have noticed him coming down—”

you hang up, throwing your phone on the office chair.

bakugou flips up your skirt, revealing your striped white and navy underwear. he kisses your mound over the fabric.

“you said you wouldn’t give me head—,”

“you liked kirishima?”

you blink at him, your fingers in his hair. he’s handsome all the time, but more so on his knees before you. nose brushing over your centre and you’re sure he’s sniffing you. he knows how wet you are, he can see the damned damp patch.

“who?” and then it clicks, “your firefighter friend? what, no. i’ve never spoken to him.”

you smell good, he wants to yank off your underwear and have you sit on his face so he can drink anything that comes out of you. he’d much prefer this in a bed, so he can take his time, listen to every moan so he can learn your body for all the times after.

bakugou grunts, “why’d your assistant mention him?”

“she mentioned you first. i spoke to you, i let you show me around the station, i have you on your knees for me.” the last part has you smiling.

bakugou can’t take hold of the situation, the control slipping through his hands like quicksand and he’s okay with it at this point. 

“so why’d she mention him?” he still pushes.

“my colleague likes him, they went off together, remember? she got mixed up,” you ruffle his hair, “don’t worry, nobody’s taking me away from you.”

once the jealousy simmers in bakugou’s stomach, he pulls down your underwear and spreads your legs apart. 

“thank fuck.”

bakugou starts with one straight lick from your dripping hole to your round clit at the top. you taste just as he imagined, his moan seeping out of him without warning. he hears you gasp from above, your fingers grabbing a tuft of hair.

“knew you’d taste good, baby girl,” he licks again, stuffing his tongue down your centre to get as much as he can. you’re twitching all over the place, head flung back in the wall behind you and back arched. it’s going to be easy to make you come, you’re already soaked from the look of him.

this is his third time meeting you and he’s already got you on his tongue. bakugou considers himself lucky, blessed, chosen. you cover your mouth when he flicks his tongue inside you, hands keeping you still at your hips.

his nose is in the hair at your mound when he talks, “next time,” a kiss on your clit, “we’re doing this at mine,” another kiss, “so you can make as much noise as you want.”

he tenses his tongue as he licks at your clit, alternating between that and sucking.

“oh, fuck. fuck, katsuki…,” your first time saying his name, he realises. you don’t usually call him anything.

“say it again,” he grunts, “my name.”

he can barely see your face over your arched back, so as he pulls away slightly, he makes sure to sink two fingers inside of you.

“oh shit, katsuki,” you elongate the last syllable of his name, whimpering as you try to push him back into you. he could have predicted you’d be a pusher, “more, katsuki.”

he listens, gliding his fingers in and out with ease, the wet sloppy sounds loud in your perfect girly office. you look similar to the image you signed off on last week for a particularly nsfw work book that will be printed on the inside cover. a muscled man on his knees for a woman in office attire.

“this is s-so crazy,” you mumble, barely registering the words you’re saying. bakugou listens, curling his fingers as he keeps his lips locked on your clit. “i’ve never done this before. this doesn’t feel r-real.”

bakugou laughs into you, breath hot and vibrating. he arches your body so only your shoulders lean on the wall and he’s able to see your whole body. especially how you sneak your hand up your blouse to grab your breast in your white lace bra. your breast is spilling out of it, he feels his cock pulse once he notices your nipple, your fingers pinching the delicate bud as your eyes roll back into your head. he does not deserve to be witnessing this now, you’re going to ruin his life.

“i’m going to come, katsuki,” you whine. your body feels tight with need, release just a second away. bakugou keeps up his rhythm which only makes him louder. the slurps of his tongue, his fingers thrusting in and out.

“c’mon baby, all for me now.”

he holds your hips as you fall apart, a high pitched whine piercing out your throat as pleasure shoots down your bloodstream. your eyes pinch, facing the ceiling as you can’t help but mumble, “fuck, fuck me, oh my god.”

bakugou feels accomplished. the same as the painful success after doing multiple fire runs in a day. his cock aches in his cargos, heavy and sensitive as more of your liquid trails down his hand and wrist.

once you seem somewhat settled, your eyes opening slowly, bakugou kisses your clit goodbye and shuffles up your underwear. he needs to do it or he’ll explode—  his tongue licks over his wrists and he plops his fingers into his mouth.

you watch it with half lidded, sleepy eyes, “you’re so sexy.”

bakugou’s already flushed red in the cheeks but this time he feels the compliment in his cock.

“i really liked that,” you say, barely bothering to adjust yourself, “felt amazing.”

“good. i loved doin’ it.” 

bakugou notices tissue on your desk, lightly cleaning you up and pulling up your tights next. he’s so careful with you it makes your pout. adjusting your skirt correctly around your waist, then straightening out your blouse. he kisses your breast, then your nipple because he has to, then buttons you back up.

you still look exhausted, wrapping your arms around bakugou’s neck.

he kisses your lips twice, “i’ve gotta go now. my break was over fifteen minutes ago.”

you scrunch up your face in annoyance, reaching for his cock. your mouth waters. you can’t believe you haven’t seen it yet, you can picture it from just how it feels in your hand. you’re a second away from asking him if he wants help with it, that you want it inside you somewhere but you refuse.

you do squeeze him in your palm though, just to have his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “friday.”

“friday, katsuki.”

you let go of him, pushing him off you lightly.

you think bakugou’s gone for sure as you try your hardest to get back to work on your computer. your eyes keep drifting to your personal phone, to text the firefighter. then back on your screen where you zone out remembering him on his knees and how he felt between your legs.

the firefighter is carrying two boxes as he pushes your office door open again with his back. that’s at least 200 hardback books he’s carrying in those boxes, with pure ease. his biceps are tense, bulging and you wonder if he could pick you up next time you are together. 

“your assistant asked me. the ones from the phone call.” he rounds your desk and drops them next to you by bending his knees. he’s still crouched when he looks up at you.

“stop looking at me like that,” you forget the thank you, unable to draw your eyes away from him.

he stands up to his full height, scratching his head with a boyish grin, “like what—,” you give him a deadpan look, “sorry, i can just fuckin’… friday.”

you hum back.

“i think your assistant knows we did shit? ‘cause i was up here for so long.” he spills out, grabbing the door handle.

you sigh loudly, “oh shit.”

you can already imagine the rumours you’re going to have to kill around the office. everybody already knows you’re into him… you’ll just say you had lunch or something?

“see you friday, baby.”

“bye katsuki.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated! comments for part 2 will be deleted.