☆starshine☆

you’re snuggled up together on the couch, katsuki’s back tacking against black leather that squeaks with every move and an arm slung lazily over your waist — heavy and warm in a way that makes you feel guarded or protected, giving you the room to feel small. occasionally, his thumb grazes that little slither of skin between your waistband and the hem of your tank top — circling it, reminding you that he’s there. looking up at the blonde through your lashes, head resting on the steady rise and fall of his chest, you can tell that he’s tired. worn out  from all the work and patrols during the lead up to christmas. it’s weighs on his features, pulls his bottom lip into a resting frown and makes his eyes flutter as he tries to fight off sleep, keeping his blurring gaze on the movie flickering across the flatscreen TV. 

at least he’s off now. at least he has time to rest.

except your brain can’t rest.

it’s been going a mile a minute since your boyfriend came home, his sugary-sweaty-caramel-like scent and the way he’s clung to you all evening has driven you completely up the wall. you want him more than you allow your body to let on, more than just the domesticity of the cosy scene playing out between the two of you right now — but you know that katsuki’s exhausted, too tired to speak or to move or to do anything except lay here with the comforting presence of you on top of him. 

he makes a quiet noise, a low groan that shoots straight to your core, when he shifts to feel more relaxed — bending his leg at the knee so there’s more room for you to lie between them. the feeling is almost like a knife or a gunshot wound, what with all of him pressed up against your middle. 

you exhale through your nose and the heated circles he draws into the dip at the base of your spine pick up — hotter, smoother, longer as if he’s dragging them out. the kind of gesture that lets you know he’s still there, even when he’s drifting off.

“you okay?” bakugou’s deep, gravelly voice layers thick over the noise of the film in the background and causes a twinge in your stomach that you know you can’t rid without his help. his ruby eyes that are always so intense and inquisitive, tick away from the movie and down to you — soft around the edges with intention. he cares.

so you nod, play pretend like your mind isn’t unravelling before him, and smile shy. “‘m okay,” your head tilts until your chin rests square on his chest. “just missed you today. glad you’re home.” 

“fuckin’ cute,” he tuts tenderly before he lifts a hand, tenderly squishing your cheeks between dexterous and rough-paced fingers. you try not to think about how they feel and how large his hand is too much. “tell me about your week.” 

you answer him because it provides welcome distraction from the early sparks of lust streaking their way down the length of your spine. little nothings about your week escape your frenzied stream of consciousness despite the way you lounge against your offensively attractive pro hero boyfriend. you note the coffee a stranger brought for you on monday, passing on the good vibes, and the elderly couple seated across from you at the Italian restaurant where you had your team christmas work lunch on thursday — and all the little details in between. 

all the while, katsuki listens despite the show dancing across the screen not too far away. he smiles at the excitement in your tone as you recount each tale, squeezes you close when you yawn mid sentence and nods attentively here and there. he’s present in all the tiny ways that let you know he really does care.

but then you’re halfway through a story about how your coworker’s lunch ( an unfortunate beetroot casserole ) exploded in her bag on the commute into work — your wonderful, sweet, sleepy boyfriend messes up. well, to you. he’s messed up. fucked it all to hell and back, because in the world where his hand innocently slips lower, cascading down to grip your waist and no longer making cute shapes — you interpret it as him out to get you. out to make you melt like butter in a hot cast iron pan. 

fingertips are rough, calloused and hot against the doughy flesh at your hips — sinking into your skin not enough to leave a mark, but enough to remind you that he’s there. still listening even as reality fades away from him and the siren’s song of sleep calls his name. your breath must’ve hitched or paused or stopped because when your brain finally reconnects to its stem — the pretty blonde beneath you has a brow raised and bleary eyes hard set on you.

“baby?” 

freezing in place, you squeak. “hm?”

“you were sayin’?” comes his careful and curious reply. “promise i was listening, just fuckin’ tired tonight.” 

another unfortunate thing is that katsuki’s voice turns sexy when he’s sleepy, like hot honey that runs through your ears and heats you up until you’re as hot as the center of the earth. it’s got the kind of grit that tells you he’s been hard at work, protecting people and keeping the city safe, the kind of cadence that’s sharp around the edges and stings between your thighs where you’re unable to rub them together. 

immense guilt clings to the words that die gracefully in the bottom of your throat, because you know you can’t ask your pro hero boyfriend to fuck you after a twelve hour shift — just because his sleepy voice turns you on. it’s stupid and embarrassing and you really do try your best to shake it off before he can catch on.

“i forgot,” is the excuse you settle with, wincing at how flimsy it is and how damp your panties have gotten from the lazy look of confusion bakugou casts your way. pink plush lips curving into a frown, thick brows furrowed, vermillion eyes seeing right through you. god, he’s sexy. “let’s just watch the movie—” 

“alright, ‘m callin’ bull. what’s gotten into you?” bakugou, obviously, isn’t satisfied with your answer and reaches over to pause the flick on the tv — shifting all of his ( or what’s left of it ) focus to you, concern weaving its way between the burgundy-brownish flecks in his pretty eyes. “you and i both know we haven’t been watchin’ shit. you’ve been jumpy all night too. you sure you’re good? nothin’ happened at work?”

katsuki’s a digger, a fixer. he won’t stop pestering until the problem’s solved and you can smile again — the issue at hand is so fickle and stupid, it makes you squirm hotly with embarrassment knowing you’ve caused all this fuss by being too horny when your boyfriend is completely drained. “nothing happened!” the pitch of your voice skyrockets lamely, bakugou’s tired face twitching at the highness. 

so he switches tactics and squeezes you where his large, perfectly veiny hands meet the soft skin of your hips — his head tilts like a curious puppy and he blinks, slow, sexy in a way that makes you actually physically pulse with need. “sweetness,” his voice falls by an octave. deep and velvety and caked in warning — prodding and poking the butterflies in your tummy just enough to send them into a frenzy. “come on, talk t’me.” 

you can’t help it. not when he talks like that. touches you like you might fall to pieces from the pressure. “suki.” pushing your lips into an instinctive pout, a whine escapes its shackles from behind your teeth, where the shy sound lies imprisoned against your tongue.

“oh.”

yeah. oh.

he’s used to pet names from you. it’s katsuki when you’re mad, kacchan to tease him or be annoying, baby in the mornings when he wakes up at the crack ass of dawn for a run and tries to bring you with him, kats on a day to day basis — like a secret that’s yours and no one else has. but suki. in the past, you’ve only ever called him suki when you’re wanting something, wanting him. when you’re too timid to tell him what you really need or how he can help the slight ache that builds below the surface — a place that only he can soothe or reach.  

“ah, i see. poor little baby’s feelin’ needy, huh?” you see his face, the knowing smirk that stretches into his smile lines, it burns at your nerve endings before you can even realise and stirs the pot of lust simmering deep within. he knows you a little too well for your liking, just what to say and how to say it — easing the wild landscape of your mind and turning you into that sweet, pliant little thing he loves so much. katsuki makes it easy to forget, natural to be good. 

your only form of retaliation is to swat at bakugou’s chest. “don’t!” 

“‘m not doing anything, i swear,” comes his low and breathless purr, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight down to your core that grows slick just from hearing him. instinctively, the two of you shift — bakugou moving down further on the couch with his back to the arm rest, you shuffling upwards until your shaky thighs can bracket his hips. you lean forward, chest to chest, and tuck your heated face into his neck. as the weight of you settles over him, comforting and familiar and warm, the blonde exhales shallowly. as if he’s working himself up to this, hands carefully dancing up and down your supple sides whilst his fingertips press into you a little more feverishly. “so fuckin’ needy ‘n for what. fuckin’ shit, too damn tired for this.” 

katauki’s golden lashes tickle your forehead as his eyes flutter shut in exhaustion. his body sinking deeper into the leather. you nearly shrink back, afraid of pushing him too far. “suki, you don’t have to—”

“hey, hey. said ‘m tired. not dead or fuckin’ senile.” even though he curses, there’s no malice in the bass of your boyfriend’s voice. in fact, he’s more amused — chucking fondly against you instead. “c’mere, get comfy. wanna taste you.” 

with a gentle thumb and forefinger, bakugou tilts your chin upwards and angles his head down to kiss you. at first, it’s languid and slow enough to set your nervous system alight, he doesn’t ask when his tongue presses against the seam of your lips — because he knows you’ll open up on command, slipping the pink muscle into the sweltering and wet warmth of your mouth. drool instantly pools over your own tongue, turning the kiss syrupy as he licks into you and his hand shifts upwards to cup the back of your head. 

he lets you take over, swallow him whole and take what you need to pacify the needy ache bouncing  around from your heart to your brain. it’s a little sticky and clumsy from where katsuki is too tired to keep it clean and coordinated, but neither of you mind much — melting into one another to form a union. he’s happy enough to taste the want in your mouth and the pitiful pleas that start to bubble up on your lips.

“atta girl, take whatever you want. i got you, sweetheart,” he lets out a broken groan between the sloppy exchange of kisses — pleased and prideful when your hips start to grind down on him hungry but shy. his cock kicks to life underneath you, nudging your clothed mound through layers of pretty pink hello kitty sweatpants. “been wanting this, huh? waiting for me to take care of you just how you need?” he continues soft, yet dominant — your core starts to flutter at the intonation, arousal clinging to your folds and soaking through the seat of your panties.

a hiccup forms in the rhythm of your breathing as katsuki lets his paws wander in a deliberate pathway down to your waistband. his fingers slip past the elastic and push further down to grope your ass through the material — massaging their soft globes. “whaddya wanna do, baby?” the blonde coos with his breath hot on your wet lips, fingernails raking over your damp underwear. “wanna ride me like this? hump my cock till your pretty clothes are soaked through? tell me, wanna help you…” 

his speech grows slurred and angsty like he can’t wait to get a real look at you falling apart, it’d be like a shot of caffeine to his nervous system too. you know he expects you to answer, even through his quiet fatigue — katsuki’s dominance reins strong. he trains your body to reply, letting go of your ass cheek and using his now free hand to rub your wet pussy from behind. deliberate, clumsy circles fall on your clit from over your underwear and alternate between speeds just to pull some whiney noises from you. 

“suki, suki—!” you cry out, face hot beneath the skin as you instinctively buck back against his hand — jolting over his growing bulge. “want this. i-i can cum like this. 

“fuck, you’re so cute and so fucking wet for me,” bakugou slaps his hand down on your quivering, empty cunt from behind — the force restricted by your sweatpants. a sticky clap resounds throughout the living room and makes you shake from embarrassment and anticipation. “can you take these off for me? i wanna see you, sweetness.” 

you do as you’re told, briefly pulling away from your sweltering heap of limbs to kick off your bottoms — leaving you half exposed in your underwear. this  gives the blonde just enough time to push his own down, tucking the elastic waistband underneath his bare, heavy balls. 

bakugou lies flat on the couch, reaching for you then “come sit,” he instructs simply and smiles mellowly, proudly,  when you shuffle on your knees, straddling him once more. his muscular arms welcome you home to him, smoothing over every inch of your skin — the parts you love and the parts you sometimes hate, appreciating you like a man who knows he’s got it good. you tingle wherever his fingertips lie, miss them all too much when he moves on from a particular spot but most importantly — you feel adored, loved because even though he’s been worn down by the world, katsuki takes the time to treat you tenderly. 

swiftly, he pulls your soiled panties to the side and tucks the crotch behind one of your swollen folds — the two of you then share hushed moans as your sexes come into contact again. now with a little less fabric, naked and syrupy against each other. his cock is as pretty as always — bright red and blistering hot at the tip with thick, creamy precum oozing from the tip and pooling at his belly button ( now visible due to where his shirt has risen up ). perfect purple veins spiral down the meat of his shaft, pulsing from where it peeks out from his absurdly pink sweats. there’s enough of him in your line of sight to make you drool from two places.

“god, look at that, baby,” humming faintly under his breath, bakugou reaches down between your parted thighs with a thumb to spread your pussy over his length — exposing you to sleepy, sinful eyes. “perfect pussy, all fuckin’ mine.” his chest rumbles like a prideful beast at the vision before him, glistening cunt throbbing with need, all for him. he thumbs his signature onto your clit, worsening the heartbeat that thrums through it. 

“kats,” you heave, impatiently. “suki, don’t tease. need somethin’…” 

“then you know what to do, sweet thing,” with an encouraging and gentle reminder, bakugou’s calloused palm spans over the base of your spine and pushes you forward — prompting you to swirl your hips over his lap. his frame shudders at the first glide of his painfully hard shaft through your swollen, sluice folds and as the hood of your clit catches deliciously on his cockhead. you react in  exactly the same way. shakily, you fall forward with a strained pant — not expecting the sensitivity and the jolt of ecstasy spreading through your limbs like a vicious wildfire. 

it was was before and it’s even worse now — with the way his breath fans hotly over your face and his chest rumbles hungrily beneath your own. the vibrations tweaking your nipples to hardness, they rub against his firm pecs the more you rock your hips and buck against him.

you’ve really missed katsuki, really needed him, and here he is laying himself bare for the taking. 

“kats… ‘m so sensitive…i don’t think i can—” you murmur, unsure of yourself. of this. if you cum too quickly it’d be like you’d used him — he’s way too tired to reach his peak without the work.

katsuki grounds you before you can get too overwhelmed, a lingering and languid kiss is pressed against your lips to keep the peace.

he doesn’t let you think on it too much, hips jerking upwards to remind you that he wants you just as badly and he’ll accept whatever your body has to give. “take it from me. i don’t mind,” the blonde murmurs gruffly over the crude ‘schlick’ sound your sexes make as he slowly pulls you back and forth over his creamy cock. sweet, glacé arousal smears along the length of him, a mix of what you leak and aids in your hesitant movements. with your boyfriend’s help, you build momentum carefully — stacking up pleasure brick by brick and bucking down on him using sensual swirls of your hips. 

“that’s it, fuck, grind on me just like that.”

tiredness etches its way into his tone, seeps from his pores but it doesn’t stop bakugou from praising you as you rut against his thick erection faster and faster. whilst his hands stay settled at the small of your back or the soft skin at your hips, they guide you through the motions — back and forth, back and forth until your breath hitches and your words come out as brainless babbles. he doesn’t control you, nor physically, katsuki lets you pick a pace that causes an erratically erotic pulse in your cunt. one that has you clenching around his seedy tip every time it brushes over your spasming hole — like it’s begging to be filled.

tension sluggishly builds between your bodies, it coils in your lower tummy and twists at your focus and the explosive pro-hero absolutely adores it. nothing turns him on more than seeing you like this, pliant, soft and needy — aching to be fucked. the two of you are dizzied with desire before you know it, a heap of sweaty, sex tainted limbs on the couch without realising. katsuki seems to grow impossibly harder between your supple thighs, the forked veins on his dick throbbing with blood flow carrying lustful hormones from his brain and his heart — you feel the rhythm and the want for you that he’s filled with, and it motivates you to take more.

there’s something so sexy about the way your boyfriend lets you use him despite the fatigue looming over him and you know that it’s the reason why his pelvis and lower abdomen are smeared with your juices — golden and scarred skin now glistening underneath the warm, dim lighting in your living room because how much his lazy, slanted smirk and deep gravelly voice make your mound spew round after round of arousal. 

“so fuckin’ lucky, my girl is so fuckin’ perfect for me,” bakugou continues to rasp avidly, so fucking gone underneath you. his praise starts to sear through your skin, akin to the sensation of burning yourself  on a hot pot of sugar set to caramelise. his touch invokes a similar feeling, warm as though  he’s been using his quirk as it slips back down to you — kneading the globes of flesh to keep himself grounded, in fear of losing himself to the way you practically rub your pussy raw and sticky on his girth. “slow baby, slow. don’t wear yourself out. let your body feel it all.”

a pathetic simper claws its way out of your throat because it all feels too good to slow down now. not when he sits between your legs just right, like he’s meant to be there. not when he lets you press down against his prominent, pulsating erection and depend on him for every ounce of your pleasure. it’d kill you to go slow but it’d be even worse if this ended all too soon.

you collapse on top of bakugou, weak from the bliss, shy from his constant sleepy attention. you just need a minute, a second to hide from the unruly lust curling around your organs. “need me to help you?” your boyfriend voices quietly, soft spoken words turning to a broken hiss as your spasming hole leaves a thick trail of cream from his balls to his very tip. katsuki thrusts up into your sticky mound like it’s natural, like he’s not running on empty and staying up to entertain you. like he’s coming home. encouraging you with pretty moans from just being able to lay his eyes on you. 

despite how weary he sounds, the pro hero murmurs in an attempt to guide you — keen on seeing the way your face crumples like your world is falling to pieces, needy precious tears slipping over the edge of your lash line. he likes you like this malleable and desperate for anything he gives. “circle your hips, take it nice ‘n easy. s’good, sweetness.” he continues to praise and instruct against the crown of your head, even as you glide deliciously over the leaking head of his dick. “that’s it, you got it. i got you.” 

the two of you fall into an easy rhythm then. following the notes of a tune your bodies have danced to before — early mornings before patrols, late nights in foreign countries for missions. you rut and grind against one another, the puffy folds of your molten core bracketing his chubbed up girth, keeping katsuki tucked away in your gushing wetness, covering him in your claim.

you move with a gentle gluttony, like your body’s been built from the ground up just for this — lazily humping bakugou until all you can hear is the claggy cloying noise of your cunt on him. you ache for him, tremble with a delightful pain that blossoms in your lower body like a couple of coals have been thrown onto your fire. bakugou throws his head back against the couch, sunny blonde hair askew as though it’s been swept up in a breeze. his angular jaw turns slack, mouth open wide as his intimate gripes and groans filthily fill the air — almost imitating your whimpers with how exhausted he sounds.

he can’t help it, going from grasping at your forearms to keep you anchored to the cock that kicks up against your drooling pussy — to smoothing over the curve of your ass, his nails forming light crescent moons against the skin as he pulls you forward and rolls his milky mushroomed tip against your entrance.

“such a good fuckin’ girl, listen so well. doin’ everything i say, you know, you’re making me feel so good, baby. so fucking good,” katsuki gets a potty mouth when he’s high on pleasure, delirious from his lack of sleep. a stream of colourful curses, bracketed by his alluring unfiltered whines, stick to the strings of saliva that fill his mouth and they only worsen when you push down to meet him half way. you do the work, shimmying your hips over his lap and rubbing your little pressure nub against the sensitive veins decorating his shaft  “sweet pussy on me like this, making a mess. how’d i get so fuckin’ lucky?”

you let him talk and babble sleepily because he lets you use his body, the pleasure shamelessly building between you both in unsturdy blocks ready to come crashing down at any instant.  “shit, this is just what i needed. you’re exactly what i need, baby. all the time. every time.” bakugou groans on, fatigue causing a crack in his gritty voice. now,  the foundation is weak, one more swipe of his meaty girth along the length of your silken slit could have you both in pieces sooner rather than later. you’re both so messy and lazy and gone for each other too.  

even through the exhausted haze coasting over his mind like a veil of fog rolling down a hill — katsuki notices. he picks up on the way your hips shift, pressing down harder on him, how your breath hitches as the waist band of his pants rubs the backs of your thighs raw. you work so hard to chase that high, he can’t help but smile sleepily with pride. “that feel good for you? yeah? when i rub my dick against this cute little clit, just like this.” he chuckles with a low and dangerous rasp, barely there. his fingers too, just ghosting over your supple hips, guiding you where he’s too tired to thrust up.

you nod meekly into the crook of his neck, bite down on golden skin to hide your needy mewls. 

“oh i know. take it, sweetness. lose yourself on me.” whilst katsuki’s hands grow sweaty on your skin, hot and heavy where they stop you from pulling too far off him. creamy strands of your arousal form a thick froth between your thighs, smeared over your pretty pussy and your boyfriend’s aching cock — sending notes of sex into the calm, cosy air.

his ruined ruby eyes barely open, tiredly and languidly sloping downwards from the angelic twist of your face in ecstasy to the ever growing glisten of your thighs. this must really be love, bakugou thinks, to have his girl so desperate for him that she’d give him a pussyjob on the spot while he rests. without really being able to resist, two of his thick digits sneak towards your swollen, puffy folds to spread them and he lets out a shattered simper at the sight of your sweet hole pushing out fat droplets of your own nectar.

jesus, the blonde could drop dead right here and he wouldn’t even be mad.

“o-oh fuck. suki, suki!” you pant out, sighing like a dream. the coil building deep within winds itself tight, like tying a knot before you set something free. you’re sure bakugou knows before you do, what’s about to hit and drown out the wonders of the world outside. you reckon he can smell it, the taste of your orgasm hanging in the air, especially when he inhales the waves of lust radiating from your skin — licking his lips. 

you grind against him with more passion, faster and faster until the couch squeals from the feverish force. all of your muscles begin to tense, contrasting with the violent way in which you tremble above him, but you can’t focus on the pain that stings in your pelvis from your movements — you can only think about how good the two of you will feel once you tumble over the edge. not even your clothes, soiled and waterlogged with a lewd concoction of your shared arousals can slow you down. not even the deep cut of your tangled panties against your inner thigh will stop you from pushing onwards. 

all that matters is the magnetic push and pull between your bodies, the back and forth of a thick throbbing cock against your milky mound. the prominent veins catch on the most sensitive parts of you and like a hook, line and sinker — you’re both dragged closer towards your peaks. if he weren’t so tired, you’d get him to fill you to the brim — cream your cunt for as long as he’d last, but right now you’ll settle for the opaque white stain that spreads over your sex. the precum that beads between your pussy lips work every buck of your hips, that now start to lose their rhythm. 

“fuck, baby,” bakugou swears beneath you, skin flashing with a heated red hue. he blushes hard as you wreck him, head cocked to those and golden locks spread out against the headrest of the couch. “do you know how much i love you like this? love you on’top’a me, needing me. taking it like a good girl, helping me relax.” his glows under ambient living room light, body coated in a layer of perspiration as the blonde uses the last of his energy to match your pace. 

large arms lock around your back, holding you closer to his molten hot chest than physically possible and eliminating any space between you. katsuki groans low and sexy, sending a crack of dopamine through your system like an electric shock, and strokes his girth over your core, drowned out by your slick. neither of you stop now, a stone’s throw away from pent up bliss that you both know is about to burst into the real world. pop your little bubble and pocket of the universe.

“suki, don’t think i can hold it,” with your hips rocking fluidly, akin to a rushing river, your boyfriend helps you with the final push — letting the pad of his thumb roughly graze the painfully hard nub kept safe between your parted folds. you grind against his fingers wildly, staining it with your viscous essence until his entire palm is practically covered in you. a teaser for your orgasm that’s about to break the surface. “please don’t make me hold it.” 

usually he would, usually he’d drag you on for hours until sex felt like loving torture, but tonight, katsuki wants to see you break — watch what you’ve earned from having your way with him. “never. let go for me, sweetness. show me how much you needed this. make yourself cum for me,” he shakes his head once, craning his head down to pull you into a sloppy kiss — tongue melding with your own, spit pushed into your mouth lazily in a way that contrasts with the heavy snap of his hips upwards, length pulsing right where you need him. “oooh, good girl. i’ve got you. that’s right, make a mess. ruin me for everybody else.” 

“h-hah. s-suki!” 

that’s all you need, really. 

whatever nasty, crude opaque white that had bubbled up against your spasming entrance ( a blend of precum and your juices ) is quickly washed away by the flash flood of your high. leaving a loose milky streak along the length of bakugou’s shaft in its wake. the world seems to burn into a kaleidoscope of different colours that make you feel woozy and break you away from reality — when you cum, it spirals down his cock in a viscous stream like molten lava and splashes against your tummies; adding to the mess, making it so much worse. 

both of your shaky arms hug the blonde’s head — acting like an anchor or a tether to the world. the ropes that had been twisting deep within since the start of all this, unravel at a speed that you can hardly register and you’re rendered a helpless mess of exerted limbs on top of your already tired boyfriend. he doesn’t mind that you cry, or squirm, the weight of you and the angelic sounds you make as you fall apart are bakugou’s solace. just what he needed, just what you needed.

you curse, you cry and you heave into his neck, the delicious strain of your vocal cords giving him that one final burst he needs to push towards his own high. “mhm, mhm? keep going for me baby, ‘m right there. let me use you for a sec,” bakugou snarls out. he rasps without giving a fuck, losing his composure and forgetting what it means to talk. he ruts faster, harder into your ruined cunt with what little strength remains in him, orgasm stacking painfully in his pelvis. “h-holy shit. fuck, you’re so good to me.” 

one large hand leaves your hip to cup the back of your neck, not squeezing, but creating enough presence to leave you lightheaded. the explosive pro hero drags you into another sloppy, uncoordinated kiss — licking into your mouth to pass what little sanity he has left onto you. “cummin’ sweetheart, gonna paint this pussy with my cream. s-shit,” katsuki coos and curses under his breath, next to every praise that comes to mind and over the crude sound of your sensitive sex slipping over his dick.

every inch slides against your pussy one last time before the blonde finally succumbs — every ache and ounce of tension melts away from his hulking body underneath you as he lets go. he shudders, piping hot spurts of his seed landing hot against your mound as it pulses on him. there’s too much of it, sloshing your legs and sinking into the couch — some seeping through the shreds of clothing the two of you are somehow still wearing. all the while, katsuki feeds you the passion splayed across the tongue, moaning into your mouth while he cums on your clit and your cunt. 

he doesn’t pull away, even as you both twitch through the aftershocks —  grabbing hold of the swollen base of his cock to tap his cum-coated tip against your hole. katsuki chuckles, absolutely drained, as it locks and unlocks around nothing. greedy. 

“mmmn, love you so much, baby,” he hums, once the ringing in his ear finally stops and the static cracking across his brain finally calms. bakicou clings onto you like you're a life line, only letting you lift your head slightly, just so you can breathe. “fuck, that was so good.” 

you stay on top of your boyfriend, satiated and buzzing with adoration — letting your own wave of tiredness work its way through your system. “love you more,” you bleat back with a tiny yawn, content as you listen to the dull thud of katsuki’s heartbeat whilst it slows. he’s still present, warm, coaxing though sleepy and it makes you feel safe. “thank you for spoiling me.” 

“thank you for being a good girl and letting me, your boyfriend affectionately pecks your forehead once, exhaling deep through his nose as if all his worries from the week have been cast away. “even when you’re too fuckin’ shy to ask.” 

“you were sleepy!” you bite.

he bites back, words slipping into sleepy slurred speech. “yeah, and you’re insatiable. my needy baby,” bakugou murmurs, teasing half heartedly because he’s too busy trying to lock you down on top of him for a nap. “think makin’ me cum is gonna knock me out though. so c’mere…”

“oh my god. shut up. you know i can be needy.” 

“feels good to be needed. so, quit your whinin’ and close your eyes," katsuki squeezes you once, as a reminder, letting you it’s safe to want him. no matter what. “fall asleep with me, just like this.” 

and from there, you do. tucked up together, albeit, a bit overly warm and sticky, which you just know he’ll complain about later but for now — you bask in the afterglow, completely satisfied after taking exactly what you need.

end.