"I Don't Know What The Fuck To Do" Katsuki Said, Using His Hand As Somewhat Of A Visor For The Sun.

katsuki bakugou // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

if tides could speak (they'd call you home)

sleeping aid

cover shot (through the heart)

command me

pumpkin spice and everything nice

she's my wife

on my way (to you)

savvy

you wear them well

countdown

mamamatcher

you're the one that i haunt

backup

signal

you are the reason my heart is still beating

and you take me the way i am

organic chemistry

flower crown

safe haven

reinvention

a thousand petals for one unrequited love

the holy grail types of fanfic

HELP OMG

U CANT MAKE THIS UP 😭

boyfriend katsuki doesn’t know, or care, about the difference between your wants and needs.

you’re out of your favorite lip gloss? it’s sitting on your desk the next morning, the exact shade, down to the brand, like he memorized it months ago.

you mention craving a drink in passing? he’s pressing the bottle into your hand within minutes, like it just magically appeared in his pocket.

you linger a second too long in front of a display window, eyes catching on a delicate necklace? its draped around your neck by nightfall.

when katsuki’s your boyfriend, the world bends to your desires. because if you want it, then in his mind, you need it. and katsuki always makes sure you have what you need.

TAPE IT | Bakugo Katsuki

synopsis:The night before Bakugo Katsuki ships out on another high-risk overseas mission, he doesn’t waste time with promises—he makes a memory instead. One raw, unforgettable moment laced with lust, love, and the ache of impending absence.

With only hours left together, he takes his time, worshipping you with hands and mouth, making you hold the camera so he can take a piece of you with him.

content: smut.

He’s leaving tomorrow.

Another mission overseas. Long, high-risk, and buried under a pile of top-secret files. He didn’t tell you much—just enough for the silence between you to grow heavier, thicker. Just enough for the air to carry that sharp ache of goodbye.

It’ll be weeks before you feel the weight of him in your bed again. Weeks before you can breathe in the scent of smoke, cedarwood, and sweat clinging to his skin. Weeks before you hear the low rasp of his voice murmuring your name like a prayer as dawn starts to break.

So tonight, katsuki's making a memory. His way.

You should be tangled up in sheets, limbs entwined, whispering lazy nothings in the dark. But instead, he’s on his knees in front of you, kneeling between your thighs on the couch, like you’re something sacred. Like this is a ritual. And maybe it is.

He looks up at you like he’s memorizing the sight—like he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you unravel like this again. His hands are firm on your thighs, thumbs tracing circles into your skin with reverent, almost desperate care.

“You’re gonna hold the camera, baby,” he says, voice thick and slow, like honey warmed over a flame. He presses your phone into your trembling palm, already recording, already flipped to show your own flushed, breathless face.

“I want it clear. I want it steady,” he adds, and there’s a tremor in his voice he’s trying to hide. One that tells you this means more than he’s saying.

You blink down at him, heart thudding in your chest. “Katsuki…”

He cuts you off with a soft smile—lazy, confident, but with eyes that shimmer like they’re drinking you in for the last time. “Don’t go all shy on me now,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against your thigh. “Not when I’m about to ruin you so fuckin’ sweet.”

Your breath catches, thighs twitching around him, and his smile stretches wider. That dangerous grin—the one that says he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

“There she goes,” he whispers.

And then he leans in.

His tongue slides over you, slow and unhurried, a soft tease that makes your entire body tense and melt all at once. He’s not rushing—no, never. He’s savoring. Worshipping. Learning the shape of your pleasure with every stroke of his mouth like he’s afraid he’ll forget it.

“Don’t drop it,” he murmurs against you, the vibration of his voice sending shocks down your spine. “You’re doin’ perfect, baby. Just like that. Let me see you come apart.”

You whimper, hips rolling softly, and the phone jolts slightly. His grip on your thighs tightens, grounding you, commanding you.

“Careful,” he breathes, licking up the slick mess he’s made like it’s his lifeline. “Told you I need this steady. I’m gonna be halfway across the world, starin’ at this screen every damn night. Gonna be strokin’ it slow, listenin’ to those pretty little moans of yours, imaginin’ it’s my mouth on you all over again.”

The confession makes your stomach warm, heat blooming in your face raw and intimate. A tether stretching across oceans.

“Eyes on the screen,” he whispers, lips brushing your most sensitive spot with every word. “Wanna see what I do to you. Wanna see how fuckin’ gorgeous you look when you fall apart for me.”

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles white, as your thighs tremble slightly. His mouth is relentless now—tongue circling, lips sucking, pressure building like a storm. Every flick, every breath, every hum of pleasure from his throat sends another wave crashing through you.

And he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pause.

Not when your back arches off the couch. Not when your moans spill out like confessions. "Fuck Katsuki" Not when your body begged for mercy, curling in on itself you thigh closing in on him. But you should know better.

His hands hold you wide open, possessive and unyielding.

“God, you’re perfect,” he mutters against you, voice thick with emotion. “How the fuck am I supposed to leave this behind?”

You’re already falling, already lost—when his voice breaks the edge with a breathless, reverent sigh.

“There it is,” he whispers, smiling against your skin like he’s found heaven. “Feeling good baby?”

If anything, he gets hungrier.

His tongue drags through your slick with slow, deliberate reverence—like he’s carving the memory of your taste into the back of his throat. Like if he lingers long enough, if he swallows enough of you, it’ll carry him through the weeks of distance ahead.

And then—sharp.

You gasp, hips jolting when he sinks his teeth into the soft swell of your thigh. Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to make your breath catch and your fingers tighten around the phone.

“Katsuki—!” you hand fly to hair, voice half-shock, half-plea, the sting blooming into something electric.

He chuckles low, tongue soothing over the mark he’s left before he does it again, a little higher this time. Another nip. Another burn of his teeth, followed by the warm balm of his mouth. He paints your skin with purple hues, teeth and tongue and lips all working in tandem like a man crafting a masterpiece.

“Gotta take a piece of you with me,” he mutters against your thigh, voice thick with longing. “Even if it’s just this—these marks. Proof I was here.”

You’re panting now, trembling with every brush of his tongue, the heat between your thighs unbearable.

And then—

Oh god. He zeroes in. Mouth sealing around your clit with devastating precision, tongue flicking with practiced pressure, and your vision blurs.

Your head falls back against the couch, mouth dropping open in a soundless moan—but he groans into you, low and commanding.

“Eyes on me.”

You drag your gaze down, barely coherent—but the moment your eyes lock with his, it’s like the world narrows to nothing but the fire between your legs and the storm in his stare.

His gaze doesn’t waver. Doesn’t falter. It holds you captive—hot and fierce and gone. There’s nothing soft in it now. Just hunger. Worship. Desperation.

He sucks—harder, deeper—tongue curling, lips tightening—and your thighs clamp around his head on instinct. He doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t even flinch.

His fingers dig into your hips like anchors, grounding you while his mouth pulls you under.

And he never breaks eye contact.

You’re unraveling right there in front of him—shaking, gasping, eyes wide and glossy, phone trembling in your grip. Your body bows like it’s offering itself to him, chasing the edge with no hope of slowing down.

“You feel that?” he rasps between strokes, mouth slick and voice dark with need. “How perfect you taste? How fuckin’ lucky I am?”

You whimper—wrecked.

“Fuck, baby. Gimme all of it,” he groans, lips wrapping tight around your clit as he sucks again, harder this time. “I want you dripping down my throat when I go.”

Your stomach coils, everything inside you knotting so tight it feels like your bones might snap—and still, his eyes are locked to yours, dragging you over the edge with nothing but sheer will.

You come undone with a cry—loud and broken—and his mouth doesn’t stop. He carries you through it, tongue easing you down, slow and sweet, while his hands stroke up and down your sides, grounding you as your whole body trembles.

Your phone is barely still in your hand, the screen catching everything—your ruined moans, your soaked thighs, and the way Katsuki Bakugo worships you like you’re something holy.

And through it all, he’s watching you. Just watching.

Like you’re the only thing in the world he never wants to forget.

Your breath is ragged, chest rising and falling like waves crashing against the shore, and your grip on the phone is barely there—shaking, slipping.

He notices.

Of course he does.

Wordlessly, Katsuki reaches up and takes it from your hand, his touch gentle, thumb brushing your knuckles before he sets it aside. Somewhere safe. Somewhere it’ll keep every second of what he just gave you.

Then his eyes return to yours—soft now, but burning still. Like he’s letting you see everything he never says.

Without a word, he leans up, muscles flexing as he shifts your body with ease, guiding you into his lap like you belong there. Because you do.

Straddling him, your legs wrapped around his hips, your skin still flushed and damp, you can feel just how much he’s been holding back—hard and aching beneath you, breath hitching the moment your heat presses against him.

But he doesn’t rush.

His hands settle on your waist, grounding you, worshipping you with the slow glide of his palms up your back. He leans in and kisses your shoulder—soft, barely there, like he’s afraid he’ll break the moment if he moves too fast.

Another kiss, higher now. Then one just under your jaw, lips lingering like he’s pressing pieces of himself into your skin to stay behind.

And then—

He slips inside.

Slow. Deep. Home.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging in as he fills you, the stretch so perfect it’s almost overwhelming.

A soft moan spills from your lips—half his name, half a cry—and he groans low in your ear, head dropping to your neck as he holds you there, body trembling with restraint.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice rough and raw. “I needed this. Needed you.”

You cling to him, burying your face in his hair, your lips against his temple. He moves slowly at first—hips rolling, grinding deeper than thrusting, like he’s savoring the way you mold around him. Like he’s memorizing every squeeze, every twitch, every desperate little sound you make.

Every inch of him is pressed to you—his chest against yours, his arms holding you like he never wants to let go.

“You feel that?” he whispers against your neck. “That’s me, baby. All of me. Gonna fuck you slow, so you remember me every time you close your eyes.”

You whimper his name, nails raking down his back, and he groans like it’s the only sound that matters in the world.

His lips find your shoulder again, kissing you through the burn, through the pleasure, through the ache of what’s coming tomorrow.

And with every breathless roll of his hips, every kiss, every whispered word—you know.

The moment he bottoms out, your body folds—curling into him, muscles seizing up around him with a whimper so soft it barely leaves your lips.

But he feels it.

Feels everything.

You’re clutching at his shoulders like they’re the only thing keeping you tethered to earth, face buried in his neck, mouth open and panting against his skin. He’s so deep you swear you can taste it, and the sigh he lets out against your throat sends a shiver straight through your spine.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, turning his head just enough to press his lips against the curve of your neck. He kisses you there, open-mouthed and reverent, then bites—gently—just to hear the noise you make.

You’re babbling in his ear now, too gone to form full thoughts, too full to think straight.

“So good—Katsuki, fuck, it’s s’good—don’t stop, don’t ever—feels so full, I—”

Your hips twitch without thinking, starting to grind in slow, desperate circles against him. The slide of your slick, the stretch, the obscene sound of it—it all makes his head spin.

But then his palm cracks against your ass, sharp and sudden.

You yelp—a high, breathy noise—and he smooths his hand over the sting, soothing the spot he struck before doing it again, this one heavier, more possessive.

“Easy,” he growls, lips ghosting your ear now, breath hot and ragged. “You tryin’ to make me lose already?”

You can’t answer. Not really. You just moan, hips still grinding, needy and uncoordinated, chasing more of him, chasing everything.

He slaps you again, a low groan tearing from his throat at the bounce of your ass against his lap.

“Fuck, listen to that,” he growls, his voice pure gravel and heat now. “Hear how wet you are? That’s my pussy, makin’ all that pretty noise for me.”

You whimper his name, nails dragging down his back, and he doesn’t wait this time—his hands gripping your hips, dragging you back and down as he starts to thrust.

Slow, deep, each one deliberate—like he’s staking a claim he already owns.

“You’re perfect,” he pants, watching your face twist as he hits that spot that makes your toes curl. “Feel so good wrapped around me, baby. So warm, so tight—fuck, I could die right here.”

Your whole body’s trembling now, your moans mixing with the slick slap of your bodies meeting, the room thick with sweat, breath, and the kind of love that’s too big to say out loud.

He buries his face in your neck again, voice lower now, a broken whisper:

“Gotta make it count. Gotta give you everything—leave you aching for me.”

And you are. Already. A mess in his lap, your walls fluttering around him, hips rolling to match his pace, your tears hot on your cheeks even though you're moaning through the haze.

He watches you fall apart on top of him, lips parted, tears clinging to your lashes, your body grinding like you’re chasing something you can’t name. And maybe you are. Maybe you both are.

Because something cracks in him.

Maybe it’s the way your slick clings to him, or the way your ass bounces against his thighs with every roll of your hips, so soft, so perfect. Maybe it’s the broken sound of his name tumbling from your mouth again and again like a prayer.

But suddenly he’s not holding back anymore.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, hips snapping up with a growl. “This ass—fuck. Feels too fuckin’ good. Can’t take it slow no more.”

And then he’s moving—fast, hard, dragging you down as he thrusts up into you with punishing precision, hitting so deep you cry out. The couch shifts beneath you both, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room like a drumbeat.

He wraps his arms around you—a full-body bear hug—one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of your head like you’re something fragile even as he ruins you.

You’re gasping, voice caught in your throat as he drills into you, every thrust stealing the air from your lungs, and all you can do is take it.

“Katsuki—Katsuki, I—fuck, I can’t—”

Your voice is barely there, a soft, shaking whisper right in his ear as you cling to him, shivering in his arms like your body can’t take another second but also never wants to let go.

He holds you tighter, breath ragged, sweat slick between your bodies, and moans low in your ear, voice cracking with it.

“Yes you can, baby. You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good. Just a little more. C’mon, just—fuck—just like that—”

Your hand flutters against his back, trying to grab at something, anything, even as your trembling fingers tap twice—soft, instinctive—against his spine.

Tap out.

And he knows.

His thrusts slow instantly, but his hold never loosens—just rocks you through the aftershocks as you melt in his lap, spent, clinging to him like you’ll drown if you let go.

He presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek. One more to the spot just under your ear where your pulse still flutters fast and wild.

“Got you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse but warm. “I’ve got you, baby.”

You’re trembling in his arms, body spent and sensitive, but he’s still there—still inside you, still moving, his hips rolling deep, desperate for his own high.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants into your neck, voice frayed and trembling. “I’m close—I’m so fuckin’ close.”

Your walls flutter around him again—tight, soaked, aching—and he groans, deep in his chest, like the sound is being pulled from his soul.

“Can feel you,” he gasps. “Still fuckin’ squeezin’ me. Shit—you’re gonna make me—”

You shiver again, your body helpless in his hold, and then—then—your breath catches.

It hits like lightning.

Your climax crashes over you in sharp, rolling waves, your entire body curling tight against him with a cry that’s half his name, half a sob. Your nails dig into his shoulders, legs shaking, your slick gushing around him as your pussy clamps down—tight and rhythmic, like you’re trying to keep him.

“Katsuki—”

He loses it.

His arms lock around you, crushing you to his chest as he thrusts once, twice—then groans, low and broken and so damn full of you—and spills inside you with a shudder.

Thick warmth pulses deep, his whole body tensing as he rides it out, his face buried in your neck, gasping into your skin like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this world.

He doesn’t stop holding you.

Even as the tremors fade, even as his breath starts to slow, he keeps you close—his cock still nestled deep inside, your bodies flush and sticky and shaking, hearts beating hard against each other.

He kisses your neck, soft this time. Reverent.

you’ve been locked in a tower for years.

and yet, the moment you spot the man climbing up the side of the tower, your first thought isn’t what the hell is he doing here or how do I stop him or is he some thief trying to rob me.

it’s more like: is this what freedom feels like?

you sit there, watching as the man makes his way up, all confident and smug, like he owns the world. something about his cocky grin makes your chest tighten. he’s definitely not a normal person.

he finally reaches the top, and your hands tighten around the edge of the window as he peeks his head over the ledge.

“oh, great,” he mutters, brushing his hair out of his face. “another damn tower.”

you blink. “who are you?”

he looks at you like you’re the one who just asked a stupid question. “the name’s katsuki. who the hell are you?”

your jaw drops slightly. “you climbed up here—without permission?”

“yeah. what of it?”

you stand up, grabbing the frying pan you keep tucked away (you’re not stupid, you know how to defend yourself). “i’m gonna have to knock you out if you try anything funny.”

he raises an eyebrow. “do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

“do you know how ridiculous you sound climbing into someone’s tower?” you shoot back.

he shrugs, still standing there, like he couldn’t care less that he’s in someone’s home. “i wasn’t planning on being a good guy today.”

you narrow your eyes at him, gripping the frying pan tighter. “you should’ve thought of that before breaking into my home.”

katsuki glances around, seemingly trying to find something to occupy his attention. “i’m just trying to hide from some people. didn’t expect to find a princess up here.”

your eyebrows shoot up at the word princess. “i’m not a princess,” you snap. “i’m just trapped here.”

he quirks a grin at that. “sounds pretty princess-like to me.”

you sigh, turning your back on him and walking toward the corner. “whatever. just… stay out of my way.”

he snorts but doesn’t follow. instead, he walks around, casually inspecting the room with the disinterest of someone who’s seen it all.

you’re not sure why, but there’s something about him that feels different than all the other intruders who’ve come into your tower. there’s a confidence to him, yes, but also an edge—like he’s not afraid of anything, but he’s got something to hide.

—

after a little awkward silence, he finally speaks.

“what are you doing up here, anyway?”

you look up from your window, your hand absentmindedly tracing the long strands of your hair. “i paint. i… i always wanted to see the floating lights.”

“the what?”

“the floating lights,” you repeat, your voice soft. “they float up every year, the night of my birthday. no one ever told me why. but… i want to see them. one day.”

he glances at you, and for the first time, there’s a spark of something softer in his eyes. “and you’ve never been outside?”

you shake your head. “no. never. i’ve tried. but—” you pause, pulling your legs up to your chest. “i don’t know how to leave. i don’t know what to do.”

there’s a long silence, and you’re not sure if it’s pity or something else, but katsuki finally shrugs.

“how about i help you?”

you blink, stunned. “what?”

“i’ll take you to see these damn lights of yours,” he says, crossing his arms. “just one night. that’s it.”

your heart skips a beat. “you would do that?”

he smirks, his usual cocky grin returning. “you’re not the only one trapped here. i’ve got my own reasons for needing to disappear for a while. so let’s call it even. you don’t kill me, and i take you to the lights.”

you hesitate, your fingers twitching nervously. this is crazy. he’s a total stranger. but there’s something in his eyes… something that feels like trust. or maybe hope.

“okay,” you say, finally. “okay, let’s go.”

—

the day passes in a blur of frantic packing, hasty escapes, and the feeling that this is your first taste of freedom.

katsuki’s the one who leads the way, even if he grumbles under his breath about “getting out of this place before anyone finds us.” you follow him, every step feeling like you’re walking out of the only life you’ve ever known and into something else—something real.

you don’t notice the first time his gaze lingers a little too long. maybe it’s while you’re laughing at something stupid, sunlight hitting your cheeks just right. or when you’re brushing your hair back behind your ear as you look up at the sky. it’s fleeting—barely there—but his expression changes.

a small, teeny tiny smile. the kind you’d miss if you blinked.

he doesn’t say anything about it. he just walks a little closer beside you, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

—

the boat ride down the river is quiet. the lights above start to flicker, rising like stars stretching their wings.

you’re almost there.

you’ve never seen anything like it. the sky is full of floating lanterns, glowing softly in the night.

you sit at the bow of the boat, staring up at the lights with wide eyes. you could reach out and touch them if you wanted to. you could feel them.

“this is… this is amazing,” you whisper.

katsuki’s gaze is on you, not the sky. his lips quirk into that same soft, secret smile. “yeah. i guess it is.”

you look at him then, really look at him. and maybe it’s the lanterns, or the water, or how your heart is racing, but something feels different. like this moment matters.

“you’re not like anyone i’ve met.”

you smile back, breathless. “neither are you.”

you both sit there, eyes locked. the world feels too still. too quiet.

katsuki reaches out slowly, almost unsure, brushing your hand with his. when you don’t pull away, he links your fingers with his, gently. like it means something.

“hey,” he murmurs, barely loud enough to hear over the water.

you look up, lips parting.

“can i—” he leans in, slow, cautious, voice dropping lower—“kiss you?”

your answer is a breathless nod.

and then he’s kissing you, tender and slow and so incredibly soft you forget how to breathe.

it’s not rushed. it’s not wild. it’s careful.

like he’s memorizing every second of it.

his hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking just under your eye as he deepens the kiss a little. not too much. just enough to make your fingers tighten gently around his.

you pull back, lips still brushing, and his forehead rests against yours.

neither of you says anything.

you don’t need to.

the sky is full of the light you spent years praying to see up close.

but somehow, all you can focus on is him.

sometimes i'm all alone by myself and out of nowhere bakugo katsuki pops up in my head and i cry i mf cry bcs that man ohh that man ohhhh i love him to death

Edging him until he’s completely delirious and when you tell him to “say the magic words” he accidentally says “I love you”

Katsuki Bakugo

summary: he gives into your pleads

 cw: nsfw (mdni)

tone: bf Katsuki

It wasn’t often Katsuki let you persuade him into things, especially when it came to his jurisdiction.

After all your cries and wailing to be given the opportunity of topping, he finally gave in and let you have a shot. Not at all because he wanted to see how you do, but simply because he didn’t want to hear you whine anymore.

The mood was set and a hard on waiting just for that plush ass to grind on was laid right out in front.

At first, things seemed normal. You entered, settled down, and began at a fair pace. But like any other situation, Katsuki’s patience was depleting, and fast.

The longer you went, the slower your stamina became and eventually he grew bored of you playing cowgirl. “I know you’re tired. Just let me do what I do best.” And without as much of a warning, he squeezed the peaches of your ass and hip thrust, lifting you in the process.

Slowly, he emptied his dick from inside your flesh walls until only the tip was present, making you shiver and brace yourself by gripping his shoulders. Then, he slammed back in, pushing up against your cervix.

Katsuki’s broken, suppressed moan oddly synchronized with your yelp. “Yeah, mm… This is just how I like it.”

With each thrust made your hands slip over, and over again. That’s when you had to resort to gripping his neck instead, gaining much more balance that way. He gagged a little, being choked by your thumbs.

Oddly enough, he liked the stimulation and only made him determined to go even faster. He huffed as he raised his hand to the back of your head and dipped it down so your ear was next to his lips. A grunt slipped out before he spoke.

“I’ll take charge from now on.” He panted, closing his eyes to finish. “Every. time.”

flicking katsuki’s forehead when he’s being rude

when you and katsuki decided to learn from the same pro-hero for your repeated work-study, you never would’ve guessed that you would go on patrols just the two of you. no sidekick, no actual pro-hero, just you and the blonde.

the two of you came across a villain and were legally allowed to fight him because of your licenses. after you defeated him with ease, katsuki complained about how it wasn’t a challenge at all, you came across three children.

they all looked related, most likely siblings, and they ran up to you so excitedly. katsuki backed away with a gasp as they jumped and yelled.

a short girl with brown hair, about shoulder length, exclaimed, “the two of you were great out there—“

the two other children agreed, but katsuki yelled, “hey, beat it, kids! you could’ve gotten incredibly hurt just by watching us from afar!” he pointed at a boy with a bright red hat, “you! i saw your neon hat from a short distance! you were way too close for—“

you rolled your eyes and brought your hand up, flicking his forehead. he paused his yelling and slowly turned to you before huffing and looking away. he crossed his arms, and you rubbed his back in a teasing manner as you talked to the children.

a sheepish smile appeared on your face, and you apologized to the children, “sorry about him, he gets a little rude sometimes and doesn’t think about his words. he was just worried for you, that’s all.” you paused, “you forgive him, don’t you?”

one of the children whispered to another, giggling and putting their hand over their mouth to stifle their laughter. they kept glancing at you and katsuki, and the other child wanted in on the secret.

you teased, “aw, come on, what are you guys talking about?”

the kids looked at each other with smiles on their faces before one stated, “he looks at you like how my daddy looks at my mommy!”

you and katsuki’s eyes both widened, your cheeks tinted red as the tips of his ears were also tinted red. he gasped and stared at the children in shock, surprised they would out him like that.

a small hum left your lips, and you pulled the blonde closer, as he was nearly stiff, but you said goodbye to the children, claiming you needed to leave and go back to your mentor’s agency. once they said goodbye, you dragged katsuki back to the agency in silence.

you interrupted the loudness in his head when you asked, “do you think we can get married after we graduate or should we focus on our hero work?”

gosh, you never failed to make his mind blank. he replied with another question, “can’t we do both?”

a giggle escaped your mouth, “i guess we can!”

he argued, “there’s one thing you need to know though. there’s no way in hell i’m having kids.”

you stared at him for a second, seeing the slight turn of his lips, and shook your head, “you’re such a liar, katsuki!”

a chuckle escaped his mouth, knowing you were right.

yuh