katsuki bakugo x wifey!reader
after coming home from a day of hero work he notices his wife still isn't home. he feels bad knowing you're working hard (he would be totally fine with you leaving bills to him) , he prepares dinner as he waits for you.
The apartment is quiet when you push the door open, the kind of quiet that feels earned at the end of a long day. Your shoulders ache, your head feels heavy, and for a second you just stand there, letting it all catch up to you.
Something warm, savory—comforting in a way that immediately softens the tension in your chest.
His voice carries from the kitchen, steady and familiar.
You slip off your shoes with a tired sigh. “Work ran over. Again.”
There’s a small pause before he answers, like he’s deciding how much to say. “Did you eat anything?”
You walk toward the kitchen, shaking your head even though he’s not looking yet. “No. Didn’t have time.”
He exhales quietly, not sharp or annoyed—just… disappointed in a way that’s more worried than anything else. “Go wash your hands. I’m plating it.”
You lean against the doorway instead, watching him for a moment.
Katsuki stands at the stove, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly messy like he’s run a hand through it too many times. He moves swiftly, flipping something in the pan, adjusting the heat, already reaching for plates before the food is even fully done. It’s second nature to him now.
There’s something about it—about him—that makes your chest feel warm..and full.
“…What?” he asks without turning around.
You smile, tired but genuine. “Nothing. Just didn’t expect to come home to this.”
He glances over his shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly. “To what?”
You push off the doorframe and step closer, resting your chin in your hand as you lean against the counter. “Dinner ready, kitchen clean....I damn near married a house wife, didn't I?"
He turns fully at that, brows pulling together immediately. “Don’t start.”
“I’m serious,” you continue, lips twitching. “You’ve got the whole thing down. All you’re missing is—”
“I swear to—” He cuts himself off with a sharp breath, clearly choosing not to take the bait all the way. “Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”
You laugh softly, but you do as he says, sliding into your seat.
He sets the plate in front of you a second later, a little more firmly than necessary, but not enough to actually be rough.
“You work all day and still come home and cook,” you say, picking up your fork. “Kinda impressive.”
He shrugs it off, turning back to grab his own plate. “You’d forget to eat if I didn’t.”
You sigh. “Okay, sometimes.”
He huffs quietly, sitting across from you. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Dinner’s easy. The food is good—really good—but that’s not surprising. You talk a bit, mostly about nothing important—just small things from your day. He doesn’t say much, but he’s listening, answering here and there.
By the time you both end up on the couch, the weight of the day has settled into your bones.
The movie is on, something you’d been meaning to watch, but your attention keeps slipping. The room is dim, the only light coming from the TV, flickering softly across the walls.
Katsuki sits close beside you, one arm resting along the back of the couch. Not quite around you at first—but it doesn’t stay that way for long.
You lean into him without really thinking, your shoulder pressing into his side.
He shifts slightly, adjusting so you’re more comfortable, his arm coming down to rest properly around you this time. His hand settles against your upper arm, thumb moving absentmindedly back and forth in a slow, grounding motion.
He starts talking—something about work again, something that probably annoyed him earlier—but his voice is lower now, calmer, like he’s unwinding too.
But your body has other plans.
Your head dips forward for a second before you catch it, blinking hard. “I’m listening,” you mumble, even though he hasn’t said anything about it yet.
“I didn’t say anything,” he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You huff softly. “Still. I am.”
“Yeah?” he says. “Then what’d I just say?”
He lets out a quiet breath that sounds almost like a laugh. “Unbelievable.”
You nudge into him weakly. “I’m tired.”
Your head tilts again, slower this time, until it comes to rest against his shoulder. You don’t bother correcting it. It feels too comfortable, too warm.
His hand shifts, moving from your arm to your side, holding you a little closer.
Your breathing starts to even out.
“Hey,” he murmurs, softer now. “Don’t fall asleep here.”
You make a small noise in response, something that isn’t quite a word.
He glances down at you, taking in the way your eyes have fully closed, the way your body has gone slack against him.
“…Of course you did,” he says quietly. But there’s no frustration in it.
He watches you for another moment, his thumb brushing lightly along your arm. “C’mon,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.
His arm slides behind your back, the other moving under your legs. He lifts you carefully, steady and controlled, making sure your head stays supported against him.
You stir faintly, instinctively curling closer.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says under his breath. “I got you.”
As he steps into your bedroom, it’s dim, the lamp on the nightstand casting a warm, steady glow across the neatly made bed. Everything is still in place, untouched since the morning. He moves carefully, holding you a little closer as he crosses the room, making sure you don’t wake.
He sets you down gently on the bed, slower than necessary, like he’s making sure you don’t feel the movement at all. You shift slightly, turning into the pillow, still asleep. He pauses, looking down at you.
“…You’re a mess,” he mutters, though it’s said with a softness that completely contradicts the words.
He moves around the bed, kneeling slightly as he starts to help you out of your work clothes. His movements are careful, deliberate, giving you time between each adjustment so you don’t wake.
When you stir, he stills immediately, one hand resting lightly against you.
“It’s fine,” he murmurs. “Go back to sleep.” You settle again.
Once you’re changed, he pulls the blanket over you, smoothing it down gently. His hand lingers, brushing over your arm before moving up to your face.
A strand of hair has fallen across your cheek.
He tucks it behind your ear slowly, his fingers grazing your skin. You look peaceful like this. Softer than you do when you’re awake, when you’re pushing through everything without stopping.
His expression shifts, something quiet and fond settling in.
“You worked yourself out,” he says under his breath. “Idiot.” But there’s no heat in it.
He leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the top of your head this time—not rushed.
Your lips curve into a small, sleepy smile.
“…Yeah,” he murmurs softly.
He straightens, moving around to his side of the bed, but he doesn’t leave.
Instead, he pulls his shirt off, changes quickly, and slides in beside you. The mattress dips slightly under his weight.
His arm slips around your waist, pulling you gently closer against him. Your body reacts instinctively, settling into his side like it’s where you belong.
His hand rests against your side, thumb moving in slow, absent circles, the same way it had on the couch.
After a moment, he presses another softer kiss into your hair.
“Get some rest,” he murmurs. “You need it.”
Your breathing stays steady, but you shift just enough to tuck closer into him.
He exhales, tension finally leaving his shoulders as he settles into the pillow.
A/N : goshhhhh its been years chat. school has been kicking my butt, I finally got out of my writers block tho. I present you with a katsuki one shot fluff (i barely see fluff on here anymore lol) but I feel like it couldve been better so im sorry! Ill be releasing more throughout the week of different characters.
liking and commenting will give me motivation so dont forget to like and comment!
gracieabrams
discoholicmusic
dailybridgerton
turnnoffyourmind
romaincrisis
titsay
2087
ellievsbear