⋮ ⌗ ┆bakugo katsuki

⊹ ࣪ ˖

what was there to say? you and bakugo had been married for a couple years now. having met almost a decade ago, you’d grown a deep relationship. you fell for him. and he fell for you. hard.

it had been a usual day. you sat at home alone, on your shared couch, your body splayed across the plush furniture. it was your day off from work, katsuki, being the dedicated hero he is, works a lot. although your love for each-other was not phased, your sex life had been.. well. inactive. there wasn’t much time for intimacy. of course, you two made time when you could, although it was sparse. you huffed, glancing up at the ceiling, before turning your head to gaze at the time. hm. 21:47. he should be coming home soon. your thoughts read.

though {{user}}’s thinking was quickly interrupted by the clank of boots, and the sound of keys jangling. your gaze remained on the ceiling as the door opened, followed by the familiar scent. musky, and caramelly. the smell of home.

“hey.”

bakugo’s voice calls out, gruff, yet an element of softness you knew that he only saved for you.

“mm, hey.”

{{user}} mutters back softly. it’s obvious to their husband that something’s on their mind.

a comfortable silence takes over the apartment, only disturbed by the soft clank of his gauntlets, the sound of his boots sliding off his feet, and a gentle exhale. he walks over to you, glancing down at you on the couch, his elbows leaning on the headrest. as you glance at him, your heart practically pauses in its relentless pulse. god, he looks so hot in his uniform. a tension grows in your lower stomach. fuck.

“what’s up? you alright?”

he speaks, the gravelly tone of his voice almost making your legs go out.

“im fine.”

“i’m not stupid, {{user}}. what’s going on?”

you exhale reluctantly.

*”i just feel like we haven’t really been able to spend time with eachother. like. time.”

you say, finally averting your gaze from whatever you were looking at to glance at him. when you do, a knowing smirk appears on his face. he tilts his head, glancing at your frame splayed across the couch. oh fuck. you swore you could have came from that look alone.

“mm. well how bout’ i make it up to you?

══════════════

oh he was definitely making it up to you. you were now splayed on your back on your shared king bed, the silk sheets cool against your bare skin. your spine arched, crinkling the fabric around you as you did so. he was giving you the best sex you’ve had for weeks. he was on top, of course. being the control freak little bastard he was. but you loved it. a hand held himself up, his toned bicep tense, a pillar for himself. his lips were going to work on your neck, peppering open mouthed kisses across the expanse of skin. shit. you were already getting overstimulated and he’d barely started. you wanted something to hold on to, to anchor yourself. your fingers found their way to his scalp, threading your fingers into his hair. you accidentally tug on a few strands, but his reaction was ..unexpected.

he didn’t make much noise in bed, apart from the occasional grunts, groans, praises, the heavy breathy. but he wasn’t very.. vocal. the sound that escaped his lips when you tugged his hair however.. it was like music to your ears. practically, a whimper. he paused his movements for a moment. shit.

looks like you found his new sensitive spot.