Pressure To Party // Katsuki Bakugou

KATSUKI’S LONG ASS HERO NAME PLEASE SFGKHFSDGH

Saw this skull shirt and you know I had to draw him in it

[DO NOT REPOST]

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki nearing his 40s, his muscles aching more than they did when he was freshly 20, the years of hard labor carved into every tendon and joint. his sandy blonde hair, once bright and wild, starting to show a few stubborn greys. he even grew stubble — coarse and scratchy — that leaves your skin burning when he kisses you.

and you'll complain about it, listing off reasons on your pretty, young, manicured fingers why he needs to shave, tapping each one against his chest. he'll just tilt his head, give you that lazy, lopsided smirk, and grunt a simple, "nah."

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki and the way he met you — this bright, pretty thing tucked away behind rows of blooms — when he ducked into a floral shop for a last-minute birthday gift for the old hag. how he saw you there, sleeves rolled up, soil caked on your delicate hands, loose strands of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, and how you just blew them away without a second thought — left him absolutely weak in the knees.

your laugh was brighter than any flower in that whole damn shop, and your eyes?

god, your eyes put every petal to shame.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who lingered way longer than he should have, asking the dumbest questions known to man about orchids, tulips, lilies, and roses, just so he could hear you talk. how you lit up at every answer, spilling all these little facts with that animated sparkle in your voice.

he didn't even like flowers.

but he liked you.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who kept coming back to that little shop for months after. at first, it was excuses — shitty ones, too. "forgot what kinda flowers she liked," he'd mutter. "need somethin' for a friend."

but pretty soon, there weren't any excuses left. he was just there, like clockwork, hanging on your every word, wrapped around your finger like some lovesick, pathetic mutt.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki whose hands are rough, calloused from decades of labor — decades that stretch back to before you were even born. big, scarred palms that make your soft skin feel like silk in comparison.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who takes a little longer to get out of bed in the mornings, always grumbling about his bad back, how he needs time to "get movin’."

but really, he just wants an excuse to pull you in close — press you flush against him, soak in the heat of you — and watch your pretty eyelashes flutter while you sleep.

and he has to be there when you wake up.

he needs to see those gorgeous eyes make sure they find him first thing in the morning.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who hadn't even thought about dating for years — too busy, too bitter, too tired — until he stumbled into you. all doe-eyed and sweet, so eager and fresh-faced you knocked the damn wind outta him.

made him awkward again, made him red-faced and desperate to impress you.

and all the boys you had before? college kids, jerks who only cared about frat parties and notches on their belts. they didn’t know the first thing about taking care of someone like you.

but katsuki did. he was older. more patient. rough around the edges, sure — but he knew how to make you feel good, how to take his time and worship you like you deserved.

getting there, though?

getting there was tricky.

you were both such messes, two bumbling, nervous idiots, fumbling around each other like awkward teenagers.

but god, it was worth it.

a/n: based on this request lmk if you guys are wanting to see more of this, masterlist link here. and tysm for 1k followers!

taglist: @xoxojisu @candiiee @luvseraphh @cvnt4him @soundtrqck @chlosology @lotusstarr @cupkiki @wokasiv @badslittlemuffin @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @gethexxed @moonstonejpg @pluto-9456 @wonubby @kye1aaazene @izukusfangirl @van9lla @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @bluemailhiot @luckybibucky @sk1ppy-art @d011yyxx @myths-and-ledgends @icanread-icantwrite @changkyunnnie @blue-birdie-bixch @aj1j @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation

Failed surprise

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUBBYY!! I LOVE HIM SM MUAH MUAH MUAH <33

Pairing: Husband! Bakugou x reader

Summary: while trying to surprise your birthday boy didn’t work out the way you wanted it to you resort to cuddles !!

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

it was Katsuki’s birthday and you had planned to get up and surprise him. You had bought banners and flowers for the special occasion but your aspersions were cut short by his strong hands having a cage-like grip around your waist that was impossible to get out of without waking him.

You tried your best to pry at his hands but failed as he started to stir. “Mmh” he groaned as you stopped all actions, scared he might wake up but lucky for you he stayed sound asleep; snoring slightly. Though his grip around you was still lethal.

Cursing under your breath you continued your useless efforts but this time waking him. “Baby..?” His morning voice laced with confusion made you wanna spend all day in bed with him, cuddling and kissing him as if that was all you could give him for his birthday. “Morning kat.. uh I gotta pee..” you gave a white lie, hoping it would finally set you free from his hold. “Mk” he groaned flipping to the other side and resuming his sleep.

You pumped your fist in the air in succession as you tiptoed your way to the closet where you kept all your birthday presents and decorations but didn’t get far before you heard Katsuki grumble from the other room, making you realize you weren’t gonna be able to set everything up before you got caught in the middle of making his surprise.

Forfeiting your plan, you figured you’d just do it later when he’s out or doing something that would give you time to put everything together the way you wanted to.

You copied the same actions as before and made your way back to the bed where you found a groggy Katsuki sitting up, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he scrolled on his phone shaking his head at the amount of media he was getting all because it was his birthday. “Hi hubby” you say in a low cheery voice, getting on the bed and kissing his cheek “Happy birthday..” you smiled sitting by his side and resting ur head on his shoulder, locking arms with his. “Psh, it’s not that big of a deal. I’m just a year older.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh cmon Kats, have some enthusiasm.” You grabbed his face, giving him kisses all over. “There’s No lack in enthusiasm with you is there” he joked pulling you onto his waist. you continued to smother him in kisses, your soft lips making sure to cover every inch of his face. “Okay okay okay” he tried to protest but failed.

Eventually you showed him mercy and allowed him to take his glasses off and lay back down. “I wanna sleep in” he muttered softly agents the back of your neck. “Anything for you birthday boy” you smiled as he hugged you closer.

Katsuki did end up going out with his friends later which gave you the chance to set everything up, and it didn’t turn out as bad as you thought it would. he loved his surprise, which he later described that night while he was getting his special birthday gift.

(Sorry if this was half-assed I got lazy, BUT I LOVE HIM SMSMSMSM.)

tags: middle aged bkg x reader, suggestive, they have a college aged child wc: >1k

“i fucked up.”

“watch your mouth,” out of the corner of your eye, you see your husband’s lip curl at the voice in his phone, “what’d you do?”

a beat, and then: “can you get mom? put me on speaker?”

“right here babe,” it comes out muffled around a mouthful of popcorn, eyes still on the screen in front of you, “what’s going on?”

she sighs, big, like she did when she was 3 after you told her it was time to go to bed. for a moment, something snags in your heart. you reach down beside you, patting around on the cushion for katsuki’s hand. he doesn’t even say anything about the popcorn dust on your fingers when he squeezes them.

“i might’ve got caught drinking.”

you can almost hear the cogs turning in katsuki’s brain. “might’ve?”

the pause is just long enough for her to weigh her options. “i did.”

and this is—new. you don’t see any reaction on katsuki’s face when you turn to him. no anger, no nothing—the undisturbed surface of a pond.

just like her mother, the silence is more than she can handle. “i’m sorry,” she says, and her voice gets tighter as she goes on, just like it did when she was 15 and fighting through tears to tell you about the first crush to break her heart. “it was stupid, im so embarrassed—i don’t want to disappoint you and i don’t know why i—“

“oi,” katsuki interrupts the spiral just as you open your mouth to do the same, “take a breath.”

she does—you hear the way it shakes and you want so badly to hold her. to cradle her body to yours and rock her in your arms. but she’s too big now, and she’s too far, and all you can do is squeeze katsuki’s hand harder.

“you alright?” he asks it slowly, like he’s creating the words from scratch as he speaks them. he’s—trying to be delicate, you realize. he’s not angry. he’s worried.

a sniff comes across the line, tinny and pixelated. “yeah. didn’t get sick or anything. i wasn’t drunk, either—just. wrong place, wrong time.”

“sounds more like wrong decision,” you say lightly. you’re not sure when you and katsuki switched roles—when you became the bad cop.

“yeah,” she says, watery again, “it was.”

you listen to her spin the tale—if you close your eyes, you can almost see your little girl there, giggly and flushed like her father when he drinks, tucked under the arm of her roommate in some hole in the wall bar. you know it’s all in good fun, and you can’t think about it too long or all of the what ifs keep you up all night.

it was agony to let her go—to watch her turn from you and walk towards the rest of her life. but it was for this—so she can make mistakes and learn from them.

“can i come home this weekend?”

you have to nearly break katsuki’s fingers to displace the shattering in your chest. “please don’t ever ask to come home,” you tell her, feeling too much all at once, “do you need us to get you?"

"no, i can take the bus, it shouldn't be too—"

you keep one ear on her but let your mind wonder. it's a beautiful and absolutely sickening thing, watching her grow up. wishing like hell she'd have remained the tiny toddler in her dad's arms, knowing that you'll never have that again. but the memory is enough, most days, and this part is pretty cool too.

you say your goodbyes, and she tells you she loves you. then you're bathed in quiet again—the movie in front of you largely forgotten, only white noise now. you look at katsuki, and he looks like he's fighting with himself, and losing.

“why are you smiling?”

“just,” he sighs, dragging his free hand down his face—the other still tethered to you, “glad we raised a kid that can tell us shit.”

that she feels safe enough to call, even when it’s hard. yeah—you’re glad for that too. then, he pivots.

“so what if she comes in while i’m fucking you,” it’s more of a statement than a question—clearly latched on to you telling your daughter to come to the house whenever she’d like. you snort, rolling your eyes.

"we have her location. and also, it's not like we're having sex on the kitchen table anymore. we have a bedroom with a door."

he turns to you, and the grin that spreads slow and heated across his face gives you the same butterflies it did 18 years ago. in fact, it's probably the thing that helped create the child coming home to see you so soon. he's in your space now, corralling you off the couch and into—right, the kitchen—

"we could."

“Hot Sand, Hotter Boyfriend – : Busted”

Setting: Bakugo’s dorm, late at night—door… not locked. Oops.

You didn’t mean for it to happen. Not like this.

But after a long day, some teasing kisses, and Bakugo pulling you into his room with that look in his eye—yeah, things escalated fast.

Clothes hit the floor. Your back hit the bed. His mouth hit your skin like he was starved.

He had you pinned under him now, hands holding your thighs apart as he moved between them, every deep, slow thrust drawing the kind of moans you couldn’t bite back. Sweat slicked your skin, your nails raked down his back, and his mouth was at your ear, whispering filth.

“You feel that?” he growled. “How fuckin’ deep I am inside you?”

You whimpered, gasping his name.

Then—click.

Neither of you heard the door open at first.

But you definitely heard the screams.

“WHAT THE—”

“CLOSE IT! CLOSE IT!!”

Bakugo’s head whipped around just in time to see Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina standing in the doorway like deer in headlights, jaws on the floor.

You shrieked and grabbed the nearest blanket, yanking it over your chest while Bakugo shoved himself in front of you, completely naked and fuming.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

Kaminari tried to cover his eyes and still managed to trip backwards out of the doorway. “I didn’t see anything—I SWEAR—except everything—I’M SORRY—”

Mina was frozen, wide-eyed. “Oh my god. I saw Bakugo’s ass. It’s sculpted.”

Kirishima yelped and slammed the door shut, voice cracking. “WHY wasn’t it locked?! WHY?!”

You were hiding your face behind Bakugo’s back, skin burning with embarrassment.

“We are never surviving this,” you whispered.

Bakugo grumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m gonna murder all of them.”

“You left the door unlocked!”

“You distracted me!”

The hallway outside erupted in chaos—screaming, laughing, someone (probably Sero) shouting “They were going at it like R-rated rabbits!” and Uraraka crying, “I can’t believe I SAW that!”

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself and groaned. “Do you think it’s too late to fake our deaths?”

Bakugo looked back at you, then down at himself, and sighed. “Guess they know I’m good at my job.”

You smacked his arm. “Not. Helping.”

how studio bones draws katsuki:

how 𝒽ℴ𝓇𝒾𝓀ℴ𝓈𝒽𝒾 (<3) draws katsuki:

The Secretary

agedup! Katsuki Bakugou x (Fem) Reader

MDNI!! (18+)

description: Your entire world flips when you become the explosive hero’s secretary. In the world of high stakes and even higher tension, will you be able to resist his pull, or will you find yourself lost in the heat of it all?” (this bitch is loooooong)

❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

Pro Hero Dynamite has always been known to overwork at his agency.

Go above and beyond until something is perfect. Every file, every mission plan, every recruit—flawless or you’re wasting his damn time. He doesn’t do breaks. He doesn’t do patience. And he sure as hell doesn’t do mistakes.

People line up to work for him.

Because once you’ve worked under Dynamite, you can work anywhere. You’ve been sharpened by fire. Agencies compete for people who survive even six months at his side.

But just because everyone wants the job doesn’t mean they keep it.

He doesn’t notice most of his staff—doesn’t care to. The only people who get a fraction of his attention are his sidekicks and his PA team. The rest of you? Replaceable. Background.

That’s what you were. Just background.

A newly hired secretary brought in to replace the last one—fired, rumor has it, for leaving a single classified folder out overnight. You were pulled from a random list. No connections, no special qualifications. Just a name picked in a moment of desperation.

And from the beginning, you kept your head down.

Did your job. Stayed quiet. Didn’t try to get in his way. You figured if you didn’t bother him, you’d survive longer than the last girl.

And for a while, it worked.

Until he looked at you.

⸻

It was barely a glance, the first time. You were handing him a folder, and your fingers brushed his. That was it.

But the next day, he asked for you by name. “y/n go to this next meeting for me in 40 minutes and take some notes have it on my desk by 3”

The day after that? He called you into his office to retype a document you knew damn well his PA could’ve handled. He started showing up at your desk more. Asking questions. Staring a little too long when you answered.

No one said anything, but the change was obvious.

Your name started circulating in whispers.

Not in a good way.

Because Dynamite had a reputation. Not just for being a perfectionist or a hard-ass—but for being a flirt. The kind who smiled in interviews and left parties with models on his arm. He was cocky, crude, and didn’t hide the fact that he could get whoever he wanted. He was in the tabloids almost as much as he was on the news. You weren’t his type. Not even close. So whatever attention he was giving you? It had to be temporary.

⸻

Recently one of your male co-workers had been interacting with you a little more than usual lately. He’d stop by your desk for small talk, lingering longer than necessary and dropping subtle hints of flirting—hints you quickly brushed off.

One afternoon, as he stood by your desk chatting about the new coffee shop that had just opened a few blocks from the agency, you heard the unmistakable sound of heavy, aggressive footsteps echoing through the hallway. The air shifted. The floor seemed to still as the explosion hero’s voice cut through the buzz of conversation like a blade.

“Kato,” Dynamite said dryly, voice low but so loud and commanding that it echoed across the entire floor. “Leave my secretary alone and get the hell back to work.”

Everything went quiet.

You could feel the eyes of your coworkers flicking between you and Bakugou, the tension thick in the air. Kato blinked, visibly flinching before muttering something under his breath and practically scrambling away. After that? Silence. No more desk visits. No more awkward compliments. He disappeared.

A few days passed, then a week. You hadn’t realized just how quiet it had been until you were in the break room, talking with Yumi, one of the only people you were actually close with at work. She was leaning against the counter, sipping her tea when you brought it up.

“Hey, Yumi,” you said casually, trying to sound nonchalant as you stirred your drink. “Have you seen Kato around? Last time we talked, he mentioned grabbing coffee at that new place nearby.”

Yumi gave you a look over her cup. “Oh? You don’t know?”

You blinked. “Know what?”

She lowered her voice, leaning in slightly like she was about to share a secret. “After Dynamite yelled at him, Kato got transferred to the other floor—support tech. Apparently he asked for it himself.”

Your eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Word is he went to HR the same day. Said something about ’not wanting to interfere with higher-up dynamics.’” She raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “You ask me? I think he got the message loud and clear—and maybe a little scared. Bakugou doesn’t exactly play subtle.”

You felt your cheeks warm, not sure if it was from embarrassment or something else entirely. You looked away, but Yumi smirked.

“He’s totally territorial over you, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was beating just a little faster. “He’s my boss.”

Yumi laughed. “Right. And I’m just here for the free snacks.”

⸻

Things started getting more odd after you grabbed your paycheck, scanning it quickly. Your eyes widen. There’s an extra $200 in there. What the hell?

You head straight to HR, a bit confused. “Hey, I think you guys messed up my pay. There’s, uh, an extra amount in here.”

The HR rep looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “No, we didn’t mess up. You got the raise from the boss yesterday. Didn’t you know?”

You blink. “A raise? From Dynamite?”

They nod. “Yeah. He approved it. It’s all there. So… enjoy the extra cash?”

You stand there for a moment, trying to process it. He didn’t say anything about a raise.

Later, you march into Bakugou’s office. He looks up from his desk, not even bothering to look surprised.

“Aren’t you supposed to be re-organizing those files? I told you I needed that done today y/n” he grumbles, like it’s just another day.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were giving me a raise?” you ask, arms crossed. “I went to HR, and they said it’s from you. You just… threw in a $200 bump like it was nothing?”

He shrugs, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah, and?. You’ve been working hard, so you get a bump. Don’t make it a big deal.”

You stare at him, trying to hide the confusion. “But you couldn’t have just said something, I thought it was a true and honest mistake? I didn’t want to get in trouble or anything.”

“Not my problem. It’s in your paycheck. Deal with it,” he grunts, turning his attention back to his papers.

“But I-“ you were quickly cut off by his desk phone ringing.

“y/l/n can’t you just fuckin’ thank me? now get back to work don’t ever question me again” he says before answering the phone.

You stand there, a little speechless. You eventually turn around and leave his office just to sit at your desk still confused as ever.

⸻

work had been piling up, you started staying later than usual at nights. But this night was different.

It was supposed to be simple—just a few files left to organize, highlight, and prep for tomorrow morning. Everyone else on the floor had cleared out hours ago. You liked the quiet. No one breathing down your neck. Just your thoughts and the occasional creak of the building.

Then the elevator dinged.

You didn’t look up until you heard the crash—something hard slamming against the wall near the lift.

And then, there he was.

Him.

Pro Hero Dynamite. In full gear. Hair still wild from battle, jaw tight—and in his arms? A woman.

Not just any woman. A model. One you’d seen in magazines, ads, maybe even a billboard or two. And they weren’t just walking. They were clawing at each other, lips locked, her dress hitched halfway up her thighs. His hands all over her.

He didn’t even glance your way—until he did.

Right as he shoved open his office door.

His eyes locked on you. Smoldering. Unbothered. Maybe even a little amused.

And then he shut the door behind them. Click.

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Then you heard it.

The moaning. The banging. The desperate, ugly sounds of sex through that too-thin wall, and you didn’t even hesitate. You gathered your things, barely breathing, and booked it for the elevator before your face could give anything away. You didn’t look back.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way he stared at you.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

⸻

The next morning, you came in earlier than usual—half-hoping, half-praying you wouldn’t have to see him.

Your desk felt different. Like it had absorbed last night’s shame. The pens in your cup were crooked. The light too bright. You reorganized your files twice just to stop your hands from shaking.

You told yourself he wouldn’t bring it up.

He wouldn’t have to.

Because it meant nothing.

To him, it was just another Tuesday night. Another random girl. Another fuck.

And then… you saw him.

Striding across the hallway from his office—jacket slung over his shoulder, hair freshly wet from a shower, and a goddamn coffee in hand like he hadn’t just traumatized you twelve hours ago.

He didn’t even look at you. Not at first.

He passed your desk with that same practiced indifference, talking to a sidekick about an upcoming mission, barely blinking. You exhaled. Maybe it was just another night. Maybe he really didn’t care.

Then, without warning, he stopped mid-step. Turned his head just slightly. Your blood ran cold. But he kept walking. That was it. That tiny little jab, buried so deep it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else—but you knew.

He knew. And now he was watching to see what you’d do with it.

⸻

You didn’t do anything. What could you do?

You buried yourself in your work. Avoided his gaze when he passed your desk. Ignored the little smirk that tugged at his mouth every time your fingers trembled while handing him a report. You told yourself it would fade—that he’d get bored and move on.

But he didn’t. He kept finding reasons to come by. Most times it was work-related. sometimes it wasn’t.

“Where’s the file from yesterday? The one you highlighted.”

“There’s a typo on this one. Wanna tell me where your brain was?”

“You always jump when someone groans, or is that just me?”

“do you always wear skirts that short?”

And the worst part? He never looked guilty. Never embarrassed. Just amused. Like he’d found a new game to play—and you were the only one who didn’t know the rules.

⸻

The next night came.

You were once again the last one in the office, filing mission reports. This time, you double-checked the elevator schedule before staying late. Dynamite had a press conference that evening. He wouldn’t be back until hours later—if at all.

You let your guard down.

Big mistake.

Because when the elevator dinged around 10:43 p.m., and you turned expecting to see a janitor or a delivery guy—

It was him. Alone.

No model this time. Just Dynamite. Loose black tee, sweats slung low, dog tags catching the hall light. He didn’t say a word. Just walked down the hall, slow and deliberate, until he was standing at your desk.

You blinked up at him. “…Can I help you, sir?”

He stared for a moment—eyes hooded, lazy. Then leaned a forearm on your desk. “You’re always here late.” Your throat tightened. “There’s a lot to do.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, gaze dipping briefly to your lips. “That why you stayed last night too?”

“I—I didn’t realize anyone else was—”

“Oh, you realized.” That smug look returned. “You saw everything, didn’t you?” Heat crawled down your spine. He tilted his head slightly. “And what’d you think, secretary? Get a good show?” You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor.

“I’m—going home. I’m done for the night.”

But as you tried to slip past him, he didn’t move.

Just let his fingers graze the edge of your desk—then yours. Soft. Barely there. Enough to make you stop.

And his voice? Lower this time. Quieter. Laced with something darker. “I fucked her thinking about you all alone out here” he said under his breath, not loud enough for you to hear.

As you took the bus home after work, his words lingered in your mind. he made you feel like some dirty pervert.

⸻

The following day came, you were a nervous wreck coming to work and praying to whoever was up there to not see him again. But for some reason lady luck was on your side because word got around that Dynamite wouldn’t be in office due for a little to an over ran mission a couple of cities over. You felt the weight of what was like an elephant lift from your shoulders hearing it. The next couple of days you could breathe and get your work done, until the night he came back. You weren’t planning to stay late again but the mission reports were a mess, your inbox was full, and your brain was too fried to say no when your team lead asked for help. Plus you wanted to get it all done so you could go home early for the weekend tomorrow.

Everyone else had left. The sun was long gone, the sky a navy blur behind the tall glass windows. You figured he was still out. Same patrol mission or high-level meeting.

You were so fucking wrong.

The elevator dinged at 11:36pm. You didn’t even look up because you just KNEW. you heard the heavy bootsteps crossing the hall, slow and measured—each one landing like they meant something.

You slowly looked up. There he was.

Hair messy from the wind, shirt clinging to his frame, jaw sharp with tension like he’d been gritting it for hours. He didn’t say anything—just stood there, watching you behind that massive front desk like you were the one interrupting him.

You swallowed. HARD. “…e-evening.”

A low hum left his throat, his gaze staying on you like you were the only thing in the room.

He didn’t walk away. Just shifted his weight slightly, his eyes scanning your desk. You could feel the pressure of his stare, like he was seeing right through you.

You followed his line of sight—realizing too late that your files were fanned out everywhere. Messy. Color-coded. Your pink highlighter cap left open next to your now cold coffee.

Shit.

You scrambled to get up and gather everything, heart thudding harder than you’d like to admit. “I—I’ll get these off before I leave. I just wanted to finish highlighting—”

He didn’t let you finish.

One step closer, without warning.

His body moved with purpose, no hesitation. He didn’t lean in, didn’t raise his voice, but somehow his presence swallowed you whole.

He just tapped twice—once, twice—on the corner of a sticky note beside your hand.

Then, his voice came, low, clipped, a little too calm for your liking.

“Next time you highlight mission details…”

“…don’t use pink.”

he paused for a moment looking at you while his finger was still resting on the sticky note.

“I fucking hate pink.”

You stiffened, trying to shake off the irritation that bubbled up in your chest.

“Well, maybe I’m not here to impress you,” you muttered under your breath, your annoyance pushing you further than you meant to go.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even react at first.

You tried to ignore the sudden heat crawling up your neck. It was just a comment—nothing more.

But then you saw it.

His lips curled into a faint smirk, that signature cocky grin of his. He leaned in just a little more, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket like he was too relaxed, too calm for the situation.

“Not here to impress me?” His voice was smooth, almost condescending. “Then why the hell are you even still here, huh?”

Your jaw tightened. You were about to fire back, but he wasn’t done.

He took another step forward. This time, there was no space left between you.

His eyes narrowed, gaze dropping from your face to the pink highlighter in your hand. He reached out, slowly, deliberately, taking the cap from the table and flicking it absentmindedly.

His eyes met yours, cold but sharp. He didn’t blink.

“You wanna talk back to me, huh? You wanna act like you don’t care what I think?” He leaned in closer, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off his body. “You’ll get real fucking tired of that attitude real fast.”

You tried to hold your ground, but something in the air was shifting. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating in a way that made you feel small. Vulnerable. He was in your space now—too close. But you couldn’t bring yourself to back away.

“What, you think I’m scared of you?” Your voice was steady, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

His lips curled into a knowing grin, his fingers brushing the back of your hand like it was nothing. But the touch was deliberate. “No, but I think you like it.”

You inhaled sharply, your pulse quickening.

“Like what?” you breathed, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

“Like it when I call you out,” he replied, his voice dripping with something dangerously close to amusement. “Like it when I make you feel something you don’t know how to handle.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he stepped back.

His eyes locked onto yours one last time, with a smooth, and mocking tone. “Not here to impress me, huh? Guess what? You’re not fooling anyone.”

You bristled at the implication, trying to pull away from the tension that was building in the space between you two. But he didn’t let up. Instead, he moved even closer, stepping into your personal space until there was barely an inch of air between you.

“Keep playing it cool,” he continued, his voice dropping an octave, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “But I know exactly what you want.“

His lips were only inches from yours now, and you could feel his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart pounded, and the words escaped you before you could stop them.

“And what exactly do you think I want?” you breathed.

His grin widened, a wicked, confident curl of his lips, and then, in a voice that was barely a whisper, he answered, “You want me to prove it.”

“fuck you” that’s all it took.

And before you could even process what he meant, he was on you.

His hands found your waist, lifting you onto the desk, making sure there was no space between you. The way he kissed you, with so much force and urgency, made it clear he wasn’t about to stop.

You gasped as he trailed his lips down to your collarbone, his hands already pulling at your shirt, lifting it over your head. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but in the best way. The heat in your body was building rapidly, your skin tingling where his hands brushed.

“I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before,” he growled, his lips back on yours with a hunger you couldn’t resist.

You pulled him closer, urging him to take what he wanted, because deep down, you knew you were past the point of no return.

And when his hands moved to the waistband of your pants, you didn’t hesitate, lifting your hips to let him undress you completely.

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth back on your neck, his hands working to free himself from his pants, all while he never broke eye contact with you.

“Say my name,” he demanded, his voice thick with lust, the words slipping from him in a low growl.

You could hardly breathe, let alone think. But somehow, you managed to whisper, “Dynamite.”

He smirked against your neck, his hand coming down on your ass with a harsh smack, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You jolted, a breathless gasp escaping your lips, and he leaned back, his eyes narrowing.

“I said, say MY fucking name,” he repeated, his voice a little sharper this time.

You moaned, your body aching for more as you looked up at him with a pleading expression. “Katsuki,” you whined, your voice higher, desperate. The sound of his name on your lips, the way it twisted in the air between you two, sent him into a frenzy.

He didn’t give you a moment to recover—he grabbed your thighs and dragged you to the edge of the desk, his mouth crashing into yours again, hungry and unrelenting. You felt the hard press of his cock against your bare core, still hidden behind the fabric of his boxers, and you instinctively rolled your hips, chasing the friction you so desperately needed.

“You’re drivin’ me fuckin’ insane,” he hissed against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you—flushed, panting, pupils blown wide. “Actin’ like you didn’t want this. Walkin’ around the office in those tight little skirts… lookin’ at me like that… like you wanted to be fucked.”

You whimpered, and he chuckled darkly, pulling his boxers down and letting his cock spring free. The sight alone had your breath hitching, and he noticed.

“Yeah?” he muttered, stroking himself slowly as he watched your reaction. “This what you’ve been needin’? Bet your fingers couldn’t even come close to makin’ you feel this full.”

And then he pushed in—slowly, almost teasing, stretching you inch by inch until your back arched and a breathless moan spilled from your lips, your eyes rolling in the back of your skull.

“Fuck—you feel better than I ever imagined,” he gritted, gripping your hips so tight you knew he’d leave marks. “Tight little pussy takin’ me so well.”

He set a brutal pace, snapping his hips against yours, the desk creaking beneath you both his as your body rocked with each thrust. You could barely form words—just whimpers and his name on loop like a prayer.

And then, just when you thought it couldn’t get filthier, he leaned in, his voice rasping directly into your ear.

“You know how many girls I’ve fucked the last two weeks?”

Each word was punctuated by a hard, punishing thrust.

“Every. Single. ONE of them—I thought about you.”

You gasped, your nails clawing at his back as your orgasm built dangerously fast.“Thought bout how beautiful you’d look bent over my fuckin’ desk takin’ my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back, the filthy words and his relentless rhythm dragging you closer to the edge. Your whole body trembled under him, your mind trying to deny it, trying to keep up, but your body had already surrendered. It needed him. All of him.

“And how amazing your tits would look bouncin’ in my face as you ride me.” he leaned down to your chest and sucked on your tit as he fondled the other with his free hand.

You gasped as his words hit you like a wave, the sharpness of his growl sending a tremor through your body. Every word he spoke, every thrust, made it harder to remember what it was you were supposed to resist.

His pace quickened, and you were helpless under him. Each snap of his hips felt like a jolt of electricity, shooting through your veins, making you gasp and moan for him. The desk beneath you scraped against the floor as he pushed you closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on, your fingers digging into the wood as you clung to whatever semblance of control you had left.

“Say my name again,” he commanded, his voice thick with need. “Say it and mean it this time.”

“Kats-sukiiiiiaaa,” you breathed, your head thrown back, the sensation of him inside you almost too much to handle. You could feel your walls tightening around him, your body already on the brink of breaking. You were so close—so close you could taste it.

His lips curled into a wicked grin as he saw the desperation in your eyes, his pace never slowing. “That’s it, princess,” he growled, his hand snaking down to rub your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You’re mine now. All mine and not any of these shitty extras around this place”.

You could barely respond, your mind clouded with the pleasure he was giving you. Every inch of your body felt like it was on fire, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core until you were trembling with the effort of holding back.

And then, with one last, forceful thrust, he drove you over the edge. Your body arched against him, your moans a desperate mixture of his name and incoherent sounds. His name tumbled from your lips again, this time louder, as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and weak.

But Bakugou didn’t stop. He wasn’t done with you yet.

He kept going, pushing you through your orgasm with a brutal determination that had you gasping for air. His thrusts grew erratic, faster, harder, as his own release approached. His breath was ragged in your ear, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.

With one final growl, he pulled you closer, his hand gripping your hips as he buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling over as he held you against him, each shuddering breath making it clear just how much he needed you—how much he’d been holding back.

For a long moment, you both stayed like that, tangled in each other’s arms, breathless and spent. He kissed your forehead softly, a rare moment of tenderness after the storm, but the fire in his eyes never fully faded.

“Next time,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ll be fuckin’ you in my bed not some flimsy office desk.”

You smiled, your fingers tracing the muscles in his back as you both tried to catch your breath. This… this was just the beginning.

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆

— 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊'𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒀/𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒙 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚.

⋆☆　 husband!katsuki bakugo x wife!reader

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆　warning : swearing , p in v , pussy eating , blow job , fluff , comfort , MDNI ! , ( let me know if I missed anything ! )

•❣•୨୧　wc : 2.6k

-ˋˏ authors note : I have no words. Just enjoy! 😭

Katsuki had started working later hours, which meant he was coming home much later than usual. It didn’t worry Y/n too much—she knew their schedules rarely aligned. Still, Katsuki always did his best to make time for her, no matter how tough things got.

It was one of those nights—Katsuki was working late again, another shift that wouldn’t see him home until 2 a.m. His sleep schedule was wrecked, and his body screamed with fatigue, every muscle tight and worn down. Y/n could see the toll it was taking on him. Even with her own packed schedule, she gave everything she could to support him. She did whatever was in her power to ease his burden, to bring him even a small moment of peace. Katsuki stumbled through the door at 3:30 a.m., exhaustion etched into every line of his face, and his body weighed down by stress and fatigue. Y/n was still awake—she had made sure to cook something so he wouldn’t go to bed on an empty stomach. In his worn-down state, Katsuki called out, “I’m home, sweetie,” his voice heavy with pure exhaustion. “Welcome home, baby,” Y/n said softly, her voice tinged with concern. “Come eat—I made something light, easy for you to chew and digest.” With that, she turned and headed into the kitchen, the apron Katsuki had brought her from overseas. "Thank you," he says with a sigh, though his voice carries a hint of affection. "Of course, baby," Y/n replies with a warm smile as she walks over, offering him a steaming bowl of udon and a plate of onigiri. Katsuki accepts the food with a grateful nod, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Thanks for the food," he murmurs before digging in, quickly stuffing his face.

As Katsuki ate, Y/n watched him for a moment before turning to tidy up the kitchen. She glanced back occasionally, noting how his body seemed to relax with each bite of the warm udon. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she caught sight of him, completely immersed in his meal. Katsuki looked up, brows slightly furrowed in confusion. "What?" he asked, his usual stern expression in place. "Nothing," Y/n giggled, eyes lingering on the tiny bit of food clinging to the corner of his mouth. Katsuki scowled lightly, still unsure why she was laughing. "What, woman?" he asked again, voice firm but curious. "You're that hungry? What happened to the bento I made you this afternoon?" Y/n asked, stepping closer with a teasing smile. She grabbed a napkin and gently wiped the corner of his mouth. Katsuki froze, eyes locked on her as she moved. His cheeks flushed, a soft pink creeping up to the tips of his ears as he stood there, quietly flustered. "I shared some with Deku," he mumbled, glancing away. "Ahh, that explains it, hubby," Y/n chuckled. "You had a tiny piece of cilantro on the corner of your mouth, silly." She turned away, slipping off her apron with a satisfied grin. "Could’ve said something," Katsuki muttered, his tone low but clearly flustered. "And I did," she teased, tossing him a wink. "Tomorrow’s your day off, right?" Y/n asked casually as she dried the plates and set them in the dish rack.

"Yeah, but I’ve still got a ton of damn reports to finish," Katsuki grunted. "Is that so?" Y/n replied, eyeing him curiously as she noticed his body tense again. Without another word, Katsuki walked over to the sink, washing his dishes and helping her tidy up the kitchen. "Echo dropped off stacks of paperwork from today’s mission," he started, his voice low and irritated. "There was a damn terror attack later in the day. Deku, Shoto, and I had to clean up the mess. We ended up catching those idiot villains, but it was a pain in the ass." He rambled on while Y/n sat nearby, listening with a soft smile as he vented. "I’m glad my strong husband saved the day with his two best friends," she said sweetly. Katsuki let out a grunt at her words. "They're not my friends—icyhot and the damn nerd," he muttered. Y/n gave his arm a quick smack. "Hey! Speak nicely, damn it!" she scolded, hands on her hips as she gave him a pointed look. “Damn, woman—that actually hurt,” Katsuki winced, rubbing the spot on his arm where she’d smacked him, still eyeing her with a slight glare. “Deal with it, big guy,” Y/n replied with a dramatic eye roll, drying off the last dish before heading upstairs. Katsuki trailed after her, still grumbling under his breath. As she opened the door to their shared bedroom, Y/n glanced back. “How about we stay in tomorrow? Just relax and catch up with each other?” “Sounds good to me,” Katsuki replied, stepping inside. “I’ll knock out those damn reports in the morning—just need to get the stupid things signed.”

Katsuki settled onto the bed, and his eyes followed her as she began slipping out of her clothes. "I'll be right back," Y/n said as she made her way into the bathroom. A few minutes later, Katsuki followed in, grunting as he peeled off his clothes and stepped into the shower beside her. Y/n looked up, surprised by his sudden appearance. "Got lonely," he muttered, barely meeting her eyes as he reached for the soap and began helping her wash up. After the shower, Katsuki and Y/n began settling in for the night. "Hey, Katsu," Y/n said softly, pulling one of his shirts over her small frame, "do you ever think about having kids someday?" Katsuki slid into bed beside her after setting his alarm for 9 a.m., the soft glow of the screen fading out. "I do," he answered honestly. "But now’s probably not the right time… not with how crazy our schedules are lately." Y/n gave a small nod, understanding, as she nestled in beside him. Katsuki leaned in, pressing a soft, warm kiss to her lips, full of quiet tenderness. Y/n returned it gently.

"Mmm," Katsuki hummed, letting out a low groan as his hand squeezed her side. Y/n deepened the kiss slowly, drawn in by lust. Katsuki’s hands slowly trailed up her body, cupping her chest with a firm squeeze that drew a quiet moan from her lips. "Katsu," Y/n breathed out between moans, her voice melting into the heat of their deepening kiss. The moment grew more intense, rougher, until she found herself lying on her back beneath him. Katsuki’s lips left hers, trailing down her skin until he reached her chest. Her head tilted back, soft moans slipping past her lips as her fingers tangled in his messy ash-blonde hair. He smirked against her skin, taking in the sight of her. Katsuki’s lips trailed lower, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her stomach before moving down to her thighs. He nipped at the sensitive skin playfully, then soothed each spot with gentle kisses, working his way toward the inside of her thigh. Y/n gasped at the sensation, biting back a moan as heat rushed through her. Her breath hitched when his lips brushed more intimately against her center, sending shivers up her spine. A soft whimper escaped her when she felt his fingers slip beneath the fabric of her now-soaked panties. "Katsu…" she whispered, voice trembling with anticipation. He let out a low chuckle, rich and teasing, before pushing the fabric aside with slow intent.

Katsuki slid his middle finger between her folds, drawing out a sharp gasp from Y/n as pleasure pulsed through her. “Katsu, please…” she whimpered, voice trembling with need. He glanced up at her, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. “Please what?” he asked, eyes drinking in the sight of her unraveling. “Please touch me,” she breathed, desperate. “Mmm, I don’t know,” he teased, fingers still lazily brushing her heat. “Has my princess been good enough to deserve it?” Her hips shifted, a soft, needy cry slipping out. “Please, Katsu… I need you.” Chuckling low in his throat, Katsuki gave in. “So damn needy for me.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her soft, aching pussy, letting his mouth work its magic. Each slow lick, every teasing suck on her clit sent her spiraling, her mind slipping into bliss as his tongue pushed her closer to the edge. “Oh fuck—Katsuki,” Y/n gasped, her back arching as pleasure surged through her. Katsuki’s mouth stayed busy, lips and tongue working her over with relentless attention. A sharp moan escaped her as he slid two fingers—his middle and ring—deep inside, thrusting with an urgent rhythm that sent her senses spiraling. “Ahhh, Katsuki!” she cried out, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging gently. He let out a low groan in response, the sound vibrating against her, only driving her further toward the edge. “I’m—ahhh—coming!” Y/n screamed, the tension in her body snapping as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her. Her legs trembled, her entire body shaking with the intensity. Gasping for air, she barely noticed Katsuki rise above her, his lips finding hers, letting her taste the remnants of herself on his mouth.

"Mmmm, you taste good," Katsuki whispered, his voice low, sending shivers down her spine. His fingers brushed against her sore clit, and she winced, a mix of pleasure and pain coursing through her. It was a sensation she had come to crave. Y/n sat up, her eyes locked onto Katsuki's. She pushed him down onto the bed, the soft fabric cradling him as she lowered herself to get a better view. His grey sweats clung to him, outlining the impressive bulge that was straining against the fabric. A wicked smile spread across her face as she pulled down his sweats and boxers, revealing his cock, which sprang free, eager and ready. Y/n licked her lips, her mouth watering at the sight. She gripped onto him, her fingers wrapping around his shaft, feeling the warmth and weight of him in her hand. She leaned in, planting soft kisses along the length of his cock, teasing him with her lips. Katsuki groaned, the sound deep and primal, echoing in the quiet room. "Princess..." he breathed, his voice thick with desire. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You like that, don’t you?" Katsuki grunts, trying to figure a way to respond. His breath hitched as she continued teasing his friend. She took her time, taking every part of him as every sound that escaped his lips run LG like a choir into her ears. Katsuki's body responded to her touch. The way his hip slightly thrust upward as his tip hit the back of her throat. As she continued to suck, she could feel the twitch within him. Y/n pulled back slightly, not letting him come to finish. "Tell me what you want, Katsuki," she teased, her voice a sultry whisper.

He groaned again, his hands gripping the sheets as he fought to maintain control. "I want you to take me, princess. I want to fucking feel you." Her heart raced at his words. She positioned herself above him, her body hovering closely. With a slow, steady motion, she lowered herself onto him, feeling him fill her completely. A gasp escaped her lips as she sank down, his huge cock taking up every gap, every spot in her. Leaving no room for air. Katsuki's hands found her hips, guiding her as she began to move, and their bodies began to rock. "Fuck yes, just like that, oh shit" Katsuki grunted loudly as Y/n picked up the pace. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her, and she could feel the way his tip was touching her uterus on repeat. Katsuki's groans filled the air, causing him to grip harder onto her sides more tightly, helping her keep in motion. "Fuck woman! You feel so good. So tight, this pussy is mines- ughhh" he gasped, his eyes rolled away. She could feel her own release approaching, the heat pooling in her core as she rode him harder, faster. "Katsuki... I’m so close," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper. "Shit, me to princess. Just a little more, too tight," he urged, his grip on her tightening as he flipped over to be on top, taking in possession. His hips snapped into her, causing her to scream in pleasure. The two continued, Katsukithrust soon became sloppy as Y/n felt the way he was twitching inside of her. "Fuck- cum with me." Katsuki moans as ge picks up his speed. With one final thrust, they both tumbled over the edge.

"Katsuki!!" Y/n cried out, the sensation washing over her like a tidal wave, and she could feel Katsuki's release milking her insides. With every drop deepening into her core, there was nothing to be left out. Katsuki heaves as his sweaty palms let go of Y/n, pulling out of her core only for her to whine softly from the lost. As they both came down from their high, Katsuki fell down beside her as him and Y/n gaps for air. “You were a bit tight,” Katsuki teased. “Oh, shut the fuck up,” Y/n rolled her eyes, her tone playful. Katsuki chuckled softly. “I’m just messing with you,” he said, scooping her into his arms. “Maybe we should think about starting our family now. “Yeah, maybe we should,” Y/n smiled, resting her head against his bare chest. “I love you, princess,” his voice was gentle, almost vulnerable. “I love you too, Katsu,” Y/n replied with a smile. As the night settled in, the two of them drifted off to sleep, nestled in each other’s arms. Just before Katsuki succumbed to slumber, his mind wandered back to their memories. How had he gotten so lucky to have her as his wife.

𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍

pairing: deaf!katsuki x gn!reader

warning: collage au, swearing, softsuki, pure fluff, all words italicized are meant to be spoken in sign language

notes: this might be my fave thing ive written so far

632 | Bakugou’s never needed words to tell you how he feels. The only problem?You never understand what he’s been saying.

Bakugou signs alot.

At first, you thought it was just muscle memory, like how someone might talk to themselves under their breath. He’d move his hands with sharp, purposeful flicks, his fingers quick and angry, like he was arguing with the air.

But he always signed to you.

You noticed it when he’d glance your way mid-conversation, hands spelling out something with too much intention for it to be coincident. You didn’t understand a word, of course, and he never explained himself. He’d roll his eyes or scoff when you asked. Saying something like figure it out if you’re so interested, but even with his dismissal— he kept doing it.

When he was annoyed with you, his fingers moved fast.

On the rare chance you made him chuckle, he’d sign something slow and subtle, hidden behind his dumb smirk and eye roll.

When he looked at you too long, he’d blink, sign, and look away.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when you finally decided to take a crash course in ASL at your campus library that the words finally started to come together.

“Thanks for saving my seat,” you said softly, placing your bag down beside him. He hums, nodding, red eyes never leaving your own and it’s enough to make your face heat. You’d always thought Bakugou was good looking, but for the longest time, you kept your distance. That is, until he showed up to the lecture one day reading one of your favorite books, and something about that felt like an opening. Since then, sitting next to him became a habit you looked forward to more than you’d admit.

Your other friends liked to joke that you’d worn him down. That you annoyed him into a friendship.

But every time you walked in and found his bag already nudged off the chair beside him, saving the seat just for you, it felt like the smallest kind of miracle.

He never said much about it. Never made a show of saving your space, but he did it every time.

Bakugou shrugged, his hands move fast. You look… tired?

You blinked. “Wait, I— did you say I looked tired?”

He froze. His brows furrow, eyes narrowed. A tiny break in the confidence that was so Bakugou it practically had its own gravitational pull.

“What the fuck," you heard him mumble. It makes you laugh.

He’s quick to sign again. You understood that?

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. “A little. I’ve been uh—“ You cut yourself off, your own hands coming forward. Learning.

Bakugou scowled, but his ears were tinged red. He signs again, how? you stalking me now?

“No,” you said, laughing. “I took some classes in the library. Besides you're the one who’s been talking at me this whole time. I finally decided to catch up.”

His hands lifted. It is then that the piece start clicking. If you had learned what he was saying than that means... his eyes narrowed.

What else have you seen?

You pause. Beautiful, he had signed once. You’re beautiful.

Another time: I like your laugh. It sounds like wind chimes. The words 'Wind chimes' was a hard one to figure out for sure.

Once: I wish I could kiss you without making things weird.

You shook your head gently. “Beautiful a couple times... but that's all I remember."

Bakugou exhaled sharply. That's all you remembered!? He's going to fucking explode, dear god. He can feel the heat traveling down his neck. His fingers twitched like he wanted to deny it, like he wanted to scream just to redirect the attention.

Instead, he groaned. Looking away before signing something slowly— hands pausing just enough to make sure you’d catch it.

I can help you remember the rest.

You smiled. Yes. I'd love that