hey guys I just remembered this gif
i just saw the rb you posted from my gojo post and i want to say that i would give u my last chicken strip. pls omg đđâšď¸âšď¸đ
and i you my darlingâŚi would even save you two chicken strips đĽ°â¤ď¸đŤĄ
AND IT WAS SO GOOD and very much articulated my thoughts
Nike Air Force 1 Low âValentineâs Dayâ (2023)
"i find myself running home to your sweet nothings"
summary | itâs always a rough day for katsuki. hero rankings and PR nightmares every time he opens his mouth. but he gets to come home to you
pairing | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader
word count | 840
warning | soft!domestic katsuki, fluff.
a/n | this is very literally based off sweet nothings by taylor swift, so you can listen if you want the full experience. also, i haven't posted in two months, so i'm sorry if this sucks. <3
â
katsuki drops his bracers at the door with a heavy sigh. he's only just got his boots off and tucked in the corner, when he hears your voice calling him from the kitchen.
"'suki?"
he feels the smile pulling at his lips entirely unbidden.
the soft notes of that song that's been stuck in your head (and by extension, his) plays from the speaker in the corner.
"hey honey," you smile, leaning up to give him a kiss when he's in range.
he'll never be able to explain how that title makes his heart clench. he couldn't verbalize how every title he's obtained has not mattered until you gave him that one. pro-hero, number 2, explosive, dynamight.
your title feels so intimate on your lips, reducing him to the man who would fall at his knees for you.
not a pro-hero or number 2. not a ticking time bomb or a hot-head.
just your honey. your husband. yours, yours, yours.
"how was your day?" you ask, still stirring the pot as you turn the stove down.
"it was alright," he mumbles. in truth his day was rough, and he's not ready to talk about it, and he knows you can tell by the way you reach your free hand out to swipe your fingers along his cheek.
you smile up at him, pinching his cheek. "you wanna wash up? dinner's almost done." when he nods slowly, closing his eyes against the feelings of your fingers, you give him a little laugh.
in the bathroom, he works with the skin care products you left on his side of the counter, the dry winter air has been harsh on his quirk and his skin.
he thinks back to the agency, to the hero rankings, to the disapproving stares of civilians when he lets out loud curses and swears. the scolding he received from his manager today. the article comparing his pros and cons against the number 1 pro hero deku.
the water runs over his chest as he tilts his face into the stream, still trying to catch his breath from the incredibly long week he's had.
by the time he's toweled off and dressed in his sweats, the tension has worked it's way up into his back and across his shoulders.
"katsu?" your voice rings out and he's immediately following the sound back to the front door. he snorts when he sees you trying to push his bracers into the corner near his shoes. "how the hell do you put these things on for hours at a time? oh my god."
bakugo only laughs when he picks up both bracers with ease, your shocked gasp ringing out in the hallway.
"you're so strong, katsuki."
and that's it. your praise comes so easy. the fantastic feats that he performs still awe you. even something as simple as his above average strength elicits cheer from you.
it doesn't matter that he does it everyday, or that it's expected of him, you treat every act like it's the most incredible thing you've ever seen. and bakugo tries to fight the blush creeping up on his cheeks when you say these things.
even after all these years, he hasn't gotten used to your praise.
you're quickly setting a plate in front of him, taking the seat right next to him. recounting the events of your day, catching your boyfriend up on your workplace drama, and your recent purchases is enough to take you both through dinner.
by the time you've got him laid on the couch, your favorite candle is lit in the middle of the coffee table, and you two are talking softly.
his head rests on your chest, his ear pressed right over your heart. your fingers work softly against the ache in his shoulder, somehow finding the right spots to touch. these are nights when he needs you to take him down and you always do so with ease. he groans softly at the tender strength in your touch.
"i like the way you sound."
and there you go again. how do you split him open with a just a few words?
"its so pretty. especially when you talk, and when you laugh, i think that's my favorite sound."
you're calling him pretty. like his body isn't a fucking live wire ready to go off when he sweats. like the natural production of his glands don't cause explosions. like people aren't out there wondering if he should be a villain because of the force of his quirk.
of course the power thrumming through his veins is nothing compared to you. to the person he is when he's resting between your legs, letting you pet and coo at him until he's pliant and soft.
you bathe him in compliments, your adoration of him washes the shitty week off his skin and coats him in a thick layer of your love.
his prickly edges become rounded and soft against your gentle touch. refining him to be composed entirely of your sweet nothings.
â
bakugou having a bad day at work and coming home annoyed, tense and snappy. you know heâs mad, you feel it when he comes through the door. not only in the air but the way he stomps on the ground and the loud clash when he drops his bag. so for these first few seconds you have a chance to prepare yourself for what youâre about to witness.
you see the back of his fluffy blonde head as he slumps into your living room sofa and lets out the loudest huff. so you step over and sit in the arm chair diagonally opposite to him.
âhey,â
âhi,â he spits, staring at the blank screen of the tv. his arms on the arm rest, his head resting in his palm. every few seconds his jaw clenches then he lets it go.
âso do you wanna talk about it?â you prod lightly, voice light like usual so he knows youâre not about to judge him.
he tuts, frowning and still not looking at you, âno.â
âyou sure?â
âyes iâm fuckinâ sure.â
he knows heâs being disrespectful and stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. the silence is thick between yoi so he robotically turns to face you with a hard glare in defence. but it melts upon seeing your face of indifference. fuck, he needs to do better.
when you lock eyes, your voice is steady but cold, âwatch who youâre talking to.â
bakugouâs whole demeanour weakens, his body tensing with the heat of your words. suddenly what happened at work doesnât matter at all now, not when youâre just as annoyed at him.
another silence hovers over the room so you get up to make your way to your bedroom. âyou can leave or stay. i donât care.â
bakugou grabs your hand before youâre too far, mumbling a quiet, âletâs cuddle.â
you blink at him like heâs dumb, âapologise. decide whether your gonna forget about your issue or talk about it.â
he doesnât let go of you as he makes the decision on the spot, his hand on your arm sliding down to link your fingers together.
âiâm a piece of shit for talkinâ to you like that. iâm sorry.â you nod, still waiting for the next part, âiâm gonna forget and maybe talk about it later.â he flicks his eyes up to you, not forgetting how harsh your tone was, âif you wanna hear it.â
youâre a fool for your boyfriend, especially with how his eyes turn doe-like when you look down at him. red rubies asking for your forgiveness and a cuddle. he even slides a palm between your legs to rest on your inner thigh, ready to pull you on top of him. you donât want to say no so you donât.
âof course, iâll listen to you. youâre such a bitch when youâre grumpy,â playfulness tinges your words, a slow smile slipping through to your cheeks. bakugou matches your smile, dragging you onto his lap for a cuddle.
you stuff your face in his neck for an inhale of his sweetness and your arms wrap around his strong body. he does the same to you, thumb rubbing your bare hip.
âthought that was one of your favourite things about me,â he drawls sarcastically and you giggle. bakugou sighs mentally at how he started the night with you. he could have came in, been honest about what he felt and had this earlier.
âthat and how when iâm annoyed at you, you still have the confidence to ask for a cuddle.â
âconfidence well deserved âcause look at us now,â he laughs but stops when you lift your head up to glare at him.
âiâll leave right now,â you threaten.
âno, youâre not,â he says, his arms tightening around you with a peck to your forehead.
There are certain days where Bakugou just doesnât get to expend all of the energy he saves up during his work days. So on those days, when he comes home, eyes alert and darting around until they find you, your body is instantly getting ready forâsomething. It tells you thereâs a predator nearby, watching, waiting for your guard to lower so it can pounce.
And he does, he always does. Sets his bag down all slow, eyes never leaving yours, doesnât even unlace his boots before he starts stalking toward you. And you take off in a dash, a deer sprinting from sharp teeth, quick around the kitchen island as Bakugou pounces.
And it would be terrifyingly scary event, if you werenât giggling the whole goddamn time.
âKats! Stop it! Can you please be normal for once?!â You screech in a laugh, trying to keep the joyous sound at bay as you catch your breath in a moments reprieve. Youâre facing off against each other, him on one side of the counter huffing, you on the other. He splays his hands over the countertop, eyes narrowing, an evil little grin overtaking his face.
âJust cmere and Iâll stop.â He tells you, a lie that youâre already aware of from believing him countless times before. So you stare at each other for another beat of silence again before he tries to run around the counter to get you, and youâre darting off again into the living room.
He hops over the couch, misses you by a strand of hair as you giggle raucously, sliding into your shared room as you can hear his heavy stomps hot on your heels. You try to close the door but Bakugou is quicker, dives on you before you can brace yourself, flips you over midair so that his body lands on the floor and youâre cushioned between his strong arms and chest.
âGet off!â You scream to him, laughter filling up the space as Bakugou only grunts and peppers your face in kisses.
âNo, fuckinâ brat. Running from me ând shit.â He tells you in between wet smacks to your lips and nose and cheeks. You can only lay there and take it, face smushed against his as he squeezes you until you huff out another breathy laugh.
âYou like the chase!â You exclaim, trying to wriggle free from his grip, and he lets you. Only because he can see youâre gearing up to run again and he still needs some energy to expend from the slow work day. So he grins, splayed out on the floor, one knee hiked up as he stares at you from under his lashes, readying his body to attack.
âI do,â he admits, lunging at you and missing as you quickly turn the corner. The chase begins, and once again ends in you pinned to the ground covered in too many kisses for you to count. Itâs both of you guysâ favorite way to get rid of that extra unburned energy for the day.
This is not from your fic but could you do a small scenario of Nanami interacting with his baby? I swear those dad!Nanami headcanons made me so soft
okay i was going to write a scenario with a baby baby but then this kinda hit me and i had to go with it instead!
wc is ~1k bc i'm down bad for dad!nanami
gn!reader, unnamed daughter, hint of angst but mostly fluff (i think)
"Tadaima!" you call, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and nudging them to the side. They splay out beside Nanami's shoes, neatly tucked away.
There's no patter of little feet scrambling to the genkan. No soft, pleased rumble of okaeri as louder footsteps follow in their wake. You fish out your phone.
Nanami picks up on the second ring, his stoic greeting softened by the way it sounds when he calls you sweetheart.
"Where'd you go?" you ask.
He sighs. "I left a note."
"I didn't read it."
"Clearly," he says, but his voice is warm, all summer honey. "We're at the park. We'll head home in a few minutes."
"What, I don't get to have fun at the park?"
He sighs again, heavier this time. You bite down on your laugh. "Come join us, then," he says.
"I'll be there in just a minute."
He pauses. "She wanted to go to Hanegi."
"You're a sucker," you tell him, slipping your shoes back on.
"I'm aware."
"I'll be there in twenty, then."
He says something muffled. You don't need to hear the words to know he's talking to your daughter; it's in his voice, affection stitched quiet into his tone, a patchwork quilt of love sewn soft on his tongue. She chatters back at him, her voice a burbling spring brook.
"Okay," Nanami says distantly, and then he's clear again as he says, monotone: "Apparently twenty minutes is too long. You're supposed to walk faster."
You snort. "I'll do my best. See you soon."
"See you soon, sweetheart."
You walk to Hanegi, passing by the park just down your streetâsmall but serviceable, the paths to the playground lined with overflowing flowers, their petals crinkled at the edges, summer's last stand.
It's easy to find them when you arrive; the playground has begun to empty as it gets later. You pause for a moment and just watch.
Nanami's on one knee, his broad body dwarfing your daughter. She wiggles in place as he ties her shoe, his big hands deft. You can hear the rumble of his voice as he murmurs to her, but the words are lost in the space between you.
He checks her other shoe before pulling back. Your daughter reaches out and pats him on the cheek with a chubby hand. He catches it and presses a little kiss against her palm before getting to his feet.
He watches her run back to a little circle of children. Nanami can be difficult to read at the best of times, but what sweeps over his face now is stark. It's gone within a breath, but you think you'll never forget it.
"Hi," you say, sidling up to him as he leans down to brush off his knee. "I told you we should get the velcro shoes."
He rolls his eyes. "Then she'll never learn," he says, straightening up and pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your lips.
"Is she learning if you're doing it for her?"
He pinches at your side. Your yelp is half laughter, and he moves out of the way without looking when you try to pinch him back. But then his hand is on your hip, and you lean into the warmth of him. Across the way, your daughter shrieks out a laugh as she chases another little girl.
"When do you leave?" you ask quietly.
His fingers flex on your hip. "Tomorrow morning."
You let out a soft breath. "Okay," you say.
The two of you watch your daughter playâcalling out to her at times, until Nanami is roped into pushing her on the swing, with her indifferent to your pout when she shuts down your defense of your pushes in comparison to hisâuntil the promise of night is settling over the horizon.
Nanami calls her name. She comes trotting over, hair mussed and eyes bright. He leans down to take her hand for the walk home, his hand engulfing her tiny one.
You've just made it out of the park when she starts dragging her feet. "Daddy," she says, tugging at his hand. "'M tired."
Nanami raises a brow. "If you want something, you should ask politely," he says, but he's already bending down to sweep her up. He perches her on his hip, cradles her small form to him with excruciating delicacy.
Sucker, you mouth at him. He ignores you.
"Sorry," she grumbles, burying her face into his chest.
He presses a kiss to her hair. It doesn't quite hide the quirk of his lips, and the fondness tucked secret into that small smile swells in you, washes over you like the tide, an endless sea too vast for your body.
"Kento," you say suddenly, breathlessly. "Let's go to the okonomiyaki stall for dinner."
Your daughter perks up immediately, turning her small face towards him, a flower seeking sun.
Nanami glances at you. "We'd be out past her bedtime."
"I know."
He considers you for a moment, his dark eyes knowing. They're mesmerizing in the quickly fading sunlight. "Alright," he says.
Your daughter giggles with delight.
"What do you want in yours?" he asks her, already heading in the direction of the stall, his hand warm at the small of your back, keeping you close.
You barely hear her reply. You're too busy watching them, committing them to memory, from the glint of Nanami's golden hair to the delicate brush of his fingers on her cheeks to the way her cheeks puff out as she squirms.
He pauses for a moment to press his forehead against hers, whispering something too quiet for you to catch. She beams at him, and he smiles back, his fingers tracing little patterns against you, and it feels like coming home.
for my med school crowd (if i have one at all):
so i want to go to med school and become an er (but iâm open to other specialties as i know nothing about them so please leave info or suggestions?) but i donât know if iâll be able to do it and the journey seems hard and man i would just really appreciate any information encouragement help suggestions etc!
incredibly scattered poster || 22 || call me ixy
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