one of the many things gojo satoru loves about being your husband and living together, is that you ask him for help with many mundane things, like if he can reach something for you in the cabinets that are surprisingly high (side note: this one truly is inconvenient for you) or if he can carry the grocery bags that are slightly too heavy.
though one of his favorite things is when you walk up to him with a pretty little smile and a jar that you simply cannot get opened — or so he thinks.
you know exactly what happens when you ask him to do things like this, especially with this simple task.
suddenly his shoulders set wider, chest is slightly puffed out and head is high with a cocky, yet genuine smile. it fuels his ego — makes him feel masculine, sexy, wanted,
like your man — which is all you ever want for your husband who gives you the entire universe.
Bakugou loves when you hold onto his biceps. It’s so intimate, even when it’s not sexually.
He used to HATE the winter but when he realized you had a higher tendency to cling onto him and squeeze his bicep so tight he began to grow fond of the season.
Or when you two would go out for hero awards and while walking on the red carpet you’d happily hold onto him and have the biggest smile. Proud of both of you for making it so far and being so lucky.
God what you do to him.
But his favorite thing by far… is when you’re crying and you just let him wrap you up. Letting his arms cage you in and now it’s just the comfort of reminding you that while he may be strong, for you, he knows how to be gentle. 🧡
You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.
You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.
You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.
It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.
So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.
You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.
The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.
It felt good, too good.
But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.
Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.
He had to be messing with you.
So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.
You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.
Bakugou - 6:34am
Where’d you go?
I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass
Bakugou - 6:52
Y/n?
Missed call - 7:00am
Bakugou - 7:30
Is this about last night?
I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.
Missed call - 10:03am
Bakugou - 10:05
Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.
Missed call - 11:12
Missed call - 11:26
Missed call - 11-31
Bakugou - 11:40
Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.
You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.
You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.
You started to cry all over again.
A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.
You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.
“You gonna let me in or am I-“
You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.
“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”
Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.
You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.
“You need to leave, Bakugou.”
“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”
“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”
“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”
You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.
Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
You broke down in tears.
You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.
He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.
“Wanna go on a date?”
It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.
“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”
You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?
when satoru’s little daughter is asked about the definition of love during one of those educational games in kindergarten, she answers with “it’s the way papa looks at mama” and then proceeds to impersonate him by tilting her head to the side and resting a cheek against her palm, dreamy and lovesick eyes — just the way satoru always looks at you when you talk, and now that’s the shape of love in your little daughter’s eyes 🥹
Megumi annoyed when his shikigamis do the complete opposite of what he has summoned them for, rubbing their heads into your hands, pulling out their tongues and spinning around on their bellies, Throwing you to the ground to keep playing with you, being attacked out of cuttenes, Megumi let out a sigh, looking down at you, "I don't know why are they doing that. "
He clearly knows why they are doing that, his shikigami are a reflection of what he feels, he is weaken? They are too, he feels happy? They are too, and the reason why they act like that to you is because he likes you, Unable to say what he feels, his shikigamis would do the work for him, he put his thumbs on his temples, looking away with his cheeks red, trying hide his shame.
you and gojo satoru are the perfect couple. even if nobody else could match your energy, he most definitely always would. you don't remember a single moment when you're not in sync with him.
you're laughing at something stupid? he's right next to you, doubled over with tears in his eyes. you're telling him about your day? better believe he'd be nodding along and interrupting you to ask questions just to know every little detail.
you're listening to old disney songs while baking? he's right behind you, arms effortlessly manoeuvring you across the kitchen floor, dipping and twirling you around while singing at the top of his lungs (rather horrendously) along with you.
you want ice cream at midnight? he's on it! (with some for him too, obviously) feeling clingy? he'll shower you in all the affection you've asked for and more, absolutely refusing to let you go. you just told him a really cheesy pick up line? better believe he's gonna blush, giggle and kick his feet before replying with an even worse one.
and oh boy, get ready to be tossed around like a sack of potatoes when he's around. he picks you up randomly all the time, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck just to hear those sweet laughs from you.
he's never believed in soulmates until he found you, to be honest.
you made him feel heard and known. you saw him for who he really was, and you reciprocated his love in a way he never would've imagined anyone could. you loved him for more than his exterior (and you most definitely match his freak).
he'd also never experienced love at first sight until he saw you.
he was absolutely floored by how gorgeous you were, your smile so radiant it made him grin right back with a dopey look in his eyes. you stole his breath away.
shit, he didn't even know your name at the time, yet he could swear he was in love with you.
satoru really loves every little thing about you. he would worship the ground you walk on if you let him. he would bring down the moon from the sky if you asked him to.
this man is whipped, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, lounging on the couch with a small, fond smile tugging at his lips as he watches you waddle around, the little furrow between your brows making you look both adorable and determined.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, calling out to you as you head toward the kitchen, urging you to sit down and take it easy, wanting you to relax and let him handle things.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, chuckling softly as you stubbornly shake your head, firmly insisting that you need to get the chores done despite his protests.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, his heart swelling as he watches you walk over to the couch, duster in one hand, your other hand resting gently on your back for support, clearly determined to keep going.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, a grin spreading across his face as he sees you struggle to bend down to pick up a stray piece of clothing from the floor, your pregnant belly making simple tasks a little harder.
Husband! Bakugou Katsuki, beginning to rise from the couch, ready to help, only for you to hold up your hand firmly, pointing him back down, not allowing him to lift a finger.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, feeling nothing but pride as he watches your determination and stubbornness lead you through your cleaning, admiring your strength and resolve.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, scooting closer to you as you finally settle onto the couch next to him, folding clothes with quiet focus, his gaze never leaving you.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, his mind already racing with thoughts of having another child with you once your first is born, the image of you full and warm with his child making his heart flutter and his thoughts run wild.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, massaging your shoulders as you hum contentedly, folding the last of the clothes, the soft warmth of your body and the peace in the moment making his heart ache with love.
Husband!Bakugou Katsuki, an absolute pervert when it comes to the sight of his pregnant wife, you—completely and utterly obsessed with every curve and detail of your beautiful, expecting body.
uggghhh i jst loovvve husband Katsuki and his pregnant wife 🥲
bf! katsuki would DEFINITELY be the type to bite on your shoulders.
the first time it happened was when you both were tangled together on the couch, the room dimly lit by the flicker of the tv premiering a corny rom-com film katsuki deemed was "cringe and unrealistic."
katsuki had pulled you close, his arm slung lazily over your waist. as you shifted to get comfortable, his lips brushed against your bare shoulder. what started as gentle kisses suddenly turned into a playful bite.
"katsuki... did you just bite me?"
his crimson eyes held a hint of mischief as he grinned at you, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly.
"maybe. gonna do something about it, sweets?"
"... no."
"mhm, thats what i thought."
after that night, whenever you two were close—whether you were cooking together in the kitchen, cuddled up together on the couch, or having the most brain-melting sex —it became a habit for him.
katsuki’s lips would always find your shoulder, his teeth grazing the curve of your skin. it wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t soft either. it was a lingering, claiming touch that sent shivers down your spine every time.
it wasn’t just physical; there was something possessive in the way katsuki did it. he never said it outright, but you could feel it in the way his teeth lingered. it was oddly intimate, like he was claiming a piece of you that no one else could see.
"katsuki!" you whine as you feel his teeth sink into you, eyes rolled to back of your head as he thrusts inside of you.
"what, you don't like it?" he teased, his breath hot against your neck, kissing the spot he previously bit.
"i-it's weird! why do you do it, 'nyway...?" you gasp, his hands gripping your hips tighter.
"dunno. 'cause it feels good. 'cause i can," he grunts, his movements becoming rougher. "plus, the way you react... it's kinda hot."
"how?"
he pulled back slightly, his eyes roaming over your flushed face and he gave you a lazy smile.
"the way you squirm. the little gasps you make. the way your breath hitches when i do it... it's hot."
"perv."
he chuckled at your response, his arm tightening around your waist. "maybe," he murmured against your skin, his lips finding their way back to your neck."but i'm your perv."
"fuck," tears pool at your eyes, clinging onto him. "katsuki, gonna.."
"yeah? cum for me baby, c'mon," he breathes as he slams you down on his cock, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more eratic as he chases both of your release.
katsuki bites into your shoulder again, the pressure of his teeth on your sensitive skin driving you mad. your body trembles in response, the sensation of pain and pleasure mixing together as the intoxicating smell of sex floods your nose.
afterward, he pulls away from your shoulder, his lips immediately finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. the bite might have been intense, but the kiss that follows is tender, his lips moving against yours with an affectionate yet sure touch.
the kiss slowly breaks, but his lips linger close to yours. he gazes at you intently, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort or doubt. he wants to make sure you're okay, that the bite didn't go too far.
"you okay?" katsuki looks at you as if you're his entire world. he reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.
"yeah," you nod, still trying to catch your breath as you recover from the aftershocks of pleasure.
"good," he hums, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of affection. he can't resist the urge and leans in again, his teeth sinking once more into the tender skin of your shoulder. he immediately kisses the spot afterward, his lips gentle against the reddened skin.
it's his love language. its his way of telling you that you're unequivocally his.
‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ 。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚ ‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧
⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ real self indulgent. happy holidays everyone 💜💜💜
The thing that gets me is im not even a lash out girlie when im really angry. I go fucking silent and ICY. I know my anger is a quiet seething terrible despicable thing and i usually only keep the real ugly shit to myself.
But just the IDEA of being able to comfortably go into that rage state and knowing the person seeing it won't see it as despicable or ugly and just sees it as a part of you which in turn makes it something they love is just...leveling me right now.
You and Bakugou walk home in the rain.
The sky’s a watercolour spill of peach, heavy clouds staining the glow and threatening rain, wind. You had watched the sky from the cool, green-dark of your little store, wondering if you needed to pull in the flowers sitting out the front; the last thing you wanted was carnations rolling down the little street, scattering their frilled petals like confetti. Everyone else along your strip was wheeling in what they could, or lowering awnings—taking precautions, bundling up bags of pickled radishes, or dragging in stands with bootleg DVDs.
“Eh, the weather will break,” Akane had said, dismissively. “It’ll sail out to sea and then double back before it does any real damage.”
You had held out your hand as she blustered on—catching the rain dripping from the stripped canopy over your shopfront, stretching your fingers and letting the water run down them.
“Maybe I’ll bring the flowers in, anyway,” you say aloud. Akane scoffs, throwing her hands up in surrender. You smile to yourself, amused, and let her have her disgruntlement.
You rescue the carnations first—already wet with rainwater and huddled together, their frilled edges making you think of vacationing ladies at the seaside: their skirt hems dragging with the ocean spray. The hydrangeas wait til last; riotous in the weather, soaking in what they can, happily. There’s a distant rumble of thunder—you pause on the threshold of your store and watch the sky like it’s less a threat of a storm and more the promise of Katsuki overhead, somewhere, his explosions propelling him forward and breakneck speed.
It’s not. In the gloom of your little cupboard of a shop, your phone glows; a message from your Hero, waiting.
Doing shitty paperwork. Tell me when you’re home.
You thumb the side of your phone, like you could be tracing the back of his hand. Home, he says, so easily. Home—Katsuki’s apartment, where you’d both come to like the comfort of you being there for him, when he finished work.
There’s an icy gust; the wind, testing your doors before sending some leaves scuttering, down the road. You stand amid your plants and your buckets of flowers and think about Katsuki, frowning down at his paperwork in the confides of his brightly-lit office at the agency, as the world outside grew dark. He was always coming to you—meeting you at home. Meeting you at your shop doors.
Outside, something clatters. A shop sign, maybe. A fern brushes the top of your head as you peer out, to the sky again, still it’s wash of orange.
Just closing up shop now, you text Katsuki back. The read notification ticks over quickly, but he doesn’t reply—his normal modus of messaging.
It never bothers you. Instead to be funny, you send him a gif—a glittering rose, something Akane might’ve sent you, unironically, as a good morning message.
Katsuki reads that, too, but doesn’t reply—leaving you silently laughing to yourself in the dark of your secret little shop.
It’s raining in patches, by the time you leave the store; shower bursts, on and off as you make your way through a busy train station, eeling onto the train you need, when it comes.
You are a bright smear of colour, in the window’s reflections; with your coat, with the bundle of flowers you’ve allowed yourself, for Katsuki’s apartment—for home. An older woman across from you smiles, when you meet her eyes; you smile back and then almost immediately look away, rocking with the motion of the carriage and your embarrassment, still unused to the attention holding something as simple and as cheery as a bouquet of flowers could bring.
The rain’s paused, when you make it to your stop; the sky over the intersection still it’s peach spill. You twirl your umbrella above your head, watching the clouds roll, and then glance ahead, across the road—to where Katsuki is standing in civilian gear, golden and unimpressed in the latelight as he waits for you to notice him.
You break out into a grin just as the lights signal for you to cross, your heart skipping with the tune as you make your way to him.
“What happened to the paperwork?” You ask a little breathlessly, when you join him on his side of the road.
Katsuki just frowns, a hand reaching out to curl against your side—pulling you into him, where he presses his face against yours for a moment, stilling your buzzing, your excitement, like he could absorb it all. You press back just as tightly; breathing him in, warm and deep and sweet.
There’s a light touch against your temple, suspiciously kiss-like; and then he’s nipping at your ear, annoyed.
“Ow,” you say, reflexively.
He smacks his forehead against yours in retaliation. “Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving, though he just holds you closer when you sag against him, trying to keep your umbrella aloft.
“I am going home,” you mumble into the lapel of his jacket. “I’m going home with you.”
His arm tightens around you; you breathe in with him, listening to the thud of his heart, steady under the sudden spray of rain overhead, on your umbrella.
The crosswalk goes off again—leaving the pair of you standing there in the last of the rain, the light. The two of you in your own world, under the watercolour spill of sky.