LOST IN THE FIRE FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI
synopsis: katsuki has never thought about children, but today the thought consumes him from the inside out, and so do you.
contains: female reader. adult pro hero bakugou. established relationship. unprotected sex. a creampie. parental themes ie; mentions of pregnancy and children + reader being a mother. kats has a raging breeding kink and is so super in love! 3.1k wc.
note: sounds so dramatic at the beginning but i swear it is not serious like that :c either way i hope you like it < 3
you drive katsuki insane.
sure, you have your moments—times when you’re unimaginably annoying and butt heads with him over every possible thing, but that’s not what drives him up the wall—it’s the thoughts.
the pesky, never ending thought of you. you’re always there—day or night, rain or shine, like a pretty little parasite living between his ears.
he almost mistook it for a quirk, the way you spread like wildfire through his brain, scorching every inch in the process—but he’s since learned that that was just his way of experiencing love, which, at the time seemed a lot worse.
to this day, you burn hot in his mind—an eternal flame that has no sign of dying out anytime soon.
some days you’re dull, a soft yellow hue flickering in the background as he’s on patrol—too focused on whatever bastard he’s pursuing to ignite the thought of you. some days you’re bright, a fiery orange blaze glowing behind his eyes as you kiss down his torso—intensifying the lower you go.
and every so often, you’ll do or say something that threatens an all out explosion inside his head.
“katsuki!” you gasp, cupping a hand over your mouth as you shuffle into the kitchen, where your boyfriend is tossing spinach into the blender.
“what?!” he whips his head around at light speed, worry woven into his tone as he immediately sifts through a file of the worst-case scenarios. did someone die?
“guess what i just found,” you mumble into your palm, staring down at your phone in the other.
his features soften out upon hearing your words, and who knows, maybe it will be your dramatics that tip him over the edge.
he’s pretty when he’s not wearing a frown—with the morning sun seeping through the window and painting a streak of light onto him, defining the discoloured scar in the middle of his chest, and causing the thin silver chain just above it to glint.
“jesus christ,” he rolls his eyes, turning back to his half assed, thrown together smoothie. last he heard, you were shopping online for groceries the two of you had to pick up later this afternoon—so that tomorrow’s smoothie doesn’t end up like this one, shit. “what?”
“guess!” you grin, clutching your phone near your heart in a display of love for your recent find.
“hell if i know,” he mumbles—the muscles on his back rippling as he slices the tops off of some strawberries. “that damn ice cream you always inhale?”
he’s not wrong in thinking you had been browsing the frozen treats, he knows you well, you’ll give him that—but you placed the order ten minutes ago, and found a new website to entertain you.
“no,” you huff, dragging your slippers against the tile as you inch closer, stopping beside him. “and i shared with you last time, thank you very much.”
“huh?” he wraps an arm behind you, momentarily resting his palm against your ass before pinching at the fat. “one bite isn’t sharing, princess.”
you choose to let that comment fall on deaf ears, quickly spinning the conversation back to where you want it as you hold your phone out.
“look!” you beam, watching his gaze travel over the screen. it’s a picture of a little black onesie with two tiny gauntlets on it, and the words baby dynamight printed in orange and green lettering.
“what about it?” he mutters, not giving anywhere near the amount of excitement as you had hoped.
he thinks he recalls hearing about this—probably had the design shoved in his face the minute he walked into the agency and absentmindedly gave the go ahead because, he didn’t, still doesn’t, and most likely will never give a shit about what other people put on themselves, or their children.
“it’s cute asshole,” you huff, a little disappointed, but not surprised by his reaction in the slightest. you lean your head against his shoulder, looking on as his big, strong hands cut through the fruit with the utmost care. “doesn’t it make you want to have babies?”
“no,” he says, lifting a strawberry halve over his shoulder and holding it for you to bite. “does it make you wanna have ‘em?”
“yeah,” you confess.
“yeah?” he’s in disbelief. to his knowledge, you’ve never expressed the desire to have children, and if he’s honest, katsuki isn’t sure that he even wants them—he’s never given much thought to the idea.
“yeah,” you repeat, biting the fruit out of his hand. you lift your head up and smile—making sure that he knows you really mean it. “a mini us would be so cute, don’t you think? as long as they don’t get your temper, or that resting bitch face of yours.”
how utterly cruel of you to tack on a snarky little comment like that, especially after such a heavy one. he doesn’t know if that’d be cute, he’s never imagined it—until now, that is. he swears he can feel his skin heating up at the mere thought of having a baby with you, and when he thinks about what he’d have to do—no, what he’d get to do to make that a possibility, his mouth goes bone dry.
he doesn’t want you to take his silence the wrong way though, and so he mutters out the one word he think he can manage.
“yeah.”
with that, he slaps the lid onto the blender and presses the power button, hoping to drown out any further thoughts on the matter.
⋆
katsuki spends the following hours thinking about you, specifically, about putting a baby in you. no matter what he does—from eating breakfast to sending a few emails, watching a movie with you to running all your errands together—he just can’t stomp out the embers from earlier that morning.
his thoughts carry over well into the late evening, though you’d never know how strong your effect really is—he’s too well versed in the world of fire and explosives to ever give himself away.
then again, he thinks there might be black smoke coming out of his ears when you invite him into the shower with you before bed—a horrible idea if he knows what’s good for him, but he doesn’t, so in he goes.
“katsuki, we should’ve bought it,” you blurt out, eyeing him up as he rinses the suds from his hair. the muscles along his torso stretch and twist with his movements—crashing waves against his skin that only further your cause.
“huh?” he gently shakes his head around, ridding his locks of any excess water before squinting at you through the one eye that didn’t wind up with shampoo residue in it.
“the baby onesie,” you clarify, snaking your arms around his waist and leaning against his chest in search of warmth—seeing as he’s hogging all the hot water. “what if it’s extinct by the time we have kids?”
we, you and him together.
honestly, he doesn’t know how you do it. he of all people should be indifferent to a little heat—but there you go again, burning him from the inside out.
“it’s my shit, can tell ‘em to make more,” he says, shifting your bodies around so that you’re under the stream of hot water—pure bliss for you both.
“a pink version?” you peer up, blinking through the droplets of water that flock to your eyelashes.
you want a little girl, is that it?
there’s a lump in his throat—another thick cloud of smoke, this time threatening to pour from his mouth. you being pressed up against him isn’t helping either, in fact, all you’re doing is sending all that heat south.
“anything you want, sweetheart,” he responds, pressing a rather short but passionate kiss to your lips—just enough to hold him over.
he’s quick to excuse himself after this, mumbling something about you taking for fucking ever to shave—which, while true, is not why he’s fleeing.
he needs a couple minutes to gather his bearings, to ask himself if he should really do this.
katsuki is responsible, whether it be a condom, or him pulling out the second he feels his cock start to twitch—he’s never finished inside you, but he’s always wanted to.
for him, it’s not the idea of getting you pregnant—that was the one reason he didn’t do it, because he wasn’t ready, nor did he know if a father was something he even wanted to become. instead, he gets off on the thought of him being the only one who gets to cum inside you—you’re his, and that’s one way he’d like to prove it.
however, now that you’ve so easily persuaded him into wanting a mini us—that possibility sounds a lot less like a consequence.
⋆
“‘bout damn time,” he scoffs, seeing as how it’s been over twenty minutes and you’re only just shuffling into the room now. “c’mere.”
you watch him sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed, patting his thigh as an invitation for you to come sit. you don’t know what he’s thinking—you’ve barely dried off, still wrapped in your towel and dripping onto the floor every now and then.
“yes?” you ask, holding the fabric tight against your body as you make your way over.
you come to a halt in front of him, seconds away from opening your mouth again to ask what it is he wants—but he pulls you down onto one of his thighs, spreading his legs so that you’re facing towards his vacant one.
“you really wanna have a baby with me?” he’s looking at you with tiny red hearts in his eyes, already sneaking his fingers beneath the fluffy white material sitting loosely on your thighs.
“of course i do,” you smile, how cute of him—like a little puppy begging for a treat. “maybe even two.”
your words set the hearts ablaze, forcing him to see nothing but you—and you might’ve meant of course i do in the future, but all he can see right now, is you.
he kisses you, letting his lips move against yours freely this time—letting his tongue explore your mouth at will. his middle finger dips between your folds, drawing a line from your clit down to the sticky mess waiting below.
you’re excited too.
he breaks the kiss upon feeling how wet you are, drawing his hand back and looking down to catch the little string of arousal that connects his finger to your cunt.
“katsuki!” you gasp, squeezing your legs together out of embarrassment. pressing up against him in the shower didn’t help your case either, clearly.
“want you just as fuckin’ bad,” he assures, gently urging you off his lap—just to tug you back on immediately after, this time to straddle him.
you let the towel pool at your waist, giving katsuki free reign over your tits—to which he swiftly pops one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple and tugging it between his teeth.
“katsuki please,” you sigh, rutting yourself against the bulge in his sweats as you fist a hand through the shorter hairs at the back of his head. you don’t have time for this.
“huh? please what? gonna need some more from you, baby,” he hums, looking up at you through hooded lids—his gaze a deep shade of crimson you’ve never seen before.
“fuck me,” you whine, tugging at his waistband. “please.”
a proud grin flashes across his face—no matter how many times he hears it, the sound of you asking to be fucked will forever be his favourite tune.
“move this shit,” he mumbles, tossing the excess fabric to the floor and running his hands down your sides, over your hips, and along the curve of your ass. “fuckin’ gorgeous.”
he tugs his sweats down just barely enough to free his cock—tip pink and wet, leaking onto his fingers as he lines himself up with your entrance. he runs the head of his cock between your folds, collecting a bit of you on his shaft before pushing in.
you’re warm, always welcoming him with a hug—a tight squeeze of your walls that makes it almost impossible for him to bottom out. he knows you need to adjust before he does that—the thickness of his cock proving to be too much every time.
“relax,” he orders, resting his hand at the base of your throat and kissing you once more—because he knows, all too well, that this combination will have you sinking down onto his shaft, melting into him completely.
once his cock is fully sheathed, and he has you right where he wants you—flush against him with your tits in his face, he gets ahead of himself, and makes the mistake of thinking about cumming in you a little too early.
“mmm, feels so good katsuki,” you babble as you start to move your hips, up and down over and over again, warm velvet walls dragging against the entire length of his cock.
and it’s as if someone cut off the oxygen to your bedroom, he feels like he can’t breathe—all he can do is stare, tunnel visioned on the spot where you and him connect.
he already wants to cum—wants to fill you to the brim, watch it come gushing out, and fuck it right back into you. the thought alone has the corners of his vision tingeing orange—a telltale sign that you’re taking over.
a couple more minutes of you bouncing on his cock, and he can feel a burn in his lower gut—this one much more familiar than the one inside his head. still, he might as well be pronounced dead on the spot when he glances down and sees the little ring of arousal you’re leaving at the base of his shaft.
“shit,” he breathes through gritted teeth—resting the crown of his head against your chest as he tries to hold it together.
being completely oblivious to just how close he is to turning to ash—you start to rub circles onto your clit, readying yourself to cum with him.
you start to flutter around his cock, mindlessly babbling about how close you are, about how you’re going to cum for him—and you feel so good, so warm and tight—but right as his cock begins to twitch, he lifts your hips up, and off.
“fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he stares down, watching his precious cum spurt from his tip and run down the sides of his shaft. what a waste.
“katsuki,” you drawl, soft and sweet as you brush the hairs matted to his forehead back. “what’s wrong? too much?”
if he’s honest, he doesn’t know why he did that—maybe it was instinct, something he did out of pure habit, or maybe it was too much, something he didn’t want you to see up close.
“nothin’ baby,” he mutters, grabbing one of your wrists and pressing a kiss to it. you’re so cute, so thoughtful and sweet. “c’mon, switch with me.”
you’re quick to move, knowing exactly what he wants as you go from his lap to the bed. you get on your knees, lowering your chest until your tits are flush against the mattress and your ass is in the air—consequently putting your messy pussy on display.
“atta fuckin’ girl,” he praises, kicking his sweats away and grabbing onto your hips—pulling you back just a little to define the arch he loves to see so much.
his heartbeat pulses in the tips of his fingers as he slides back into you, and he knows, he’s not going to last—still sensitive from his previous orgasm.
he starts to thrust, and it’s just like before—the unmistakable feeling of being consumed, both physically and mentally.
it starts at his feet, the kind of numbness that can be compared to television static. it travels up his legs, bypasses his cock, continues up his torso, and ceases at his neck.
“please kats, cum in me,” you slur, a mindless plea thrown over your shoulder—but one that almost incinerates katsuki right there.
and he’s glad you can’t see him right now, he’s positive he’s never looked more pathetic—head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, and brows knit together in such a way that it makes him look like he’s about to cry.
in all of this, he knows that the one thing able to ground him is still you—and so he pulls you up, tugs on your arms until your back is flush with his chest. his skin is sticky, hot—save for the cool metal of his necklace pressing between your shoulder blades.
“fuck princess,” he growls—rough, coarse, and right against the shell of your ear.
“‘m close katsuki, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, cunt fluttering around him at an even faster rate than earlier.
a strangled moan rips from the back of his throat, uncharacteristic, he knows—but he’s never felt this good, never loved the burn as much as he does right now.
his grip tightens to an almost unbearable level, one hand on your throat, the other splayed across your tummy. his breathing is an absolute mess, a string of breathy little pants against the crook of your neck. his heartbeat is everywhere—blaring in his ears, pounding in his chest, throbbing through his cock—and he cums.
he cums hard, face scrunching up as he feels you pulsing on his length, vision going white as he feels his warmth shoot out—it feels so fucking good.
you fall flat against the mattress, resuming your earlier position and snapping katsuki back to reality as you force him to slip out of you.
his eyes are glossed over as he looks down, and it feels like a lifetime passes as he stares at your cunt, waiting—but it comes, his cum, sticky and white as it leaks onto the sheets.
“fuck,” he’s barely audible, with an incredulous look on his face—bringing his index and middle finger up to spread your lips and coax more of himself out. nothing could be hotter, he’s damn sure of it.
satisfied, he flops down onto his back beside you, and he feels calm—like he’s comfortably walking down the streets of his brain as they continue to go up in flame—like he’s in control.
“well?” you say, curling up into yourself as you look at your big, strong, fucked out boyfriend.
“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he hums, gaze never leaving the ceiling. “gonna be a perfect mom.”
“fucked you that good, huh?”
he turns his head to the side, what the fuck written all over his furrowed brows and scowl, because no—he fucked you, and you know it.
“shaddup,” he groans, playfully placing his palm over your face and pushing gently.
he sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed to grab that towel from earlier—he knew it’d come in handy later.
“hey,” you call out.
he peers over his shoulder at you, and you have definitely, never looked more beautiful.
“maybe even three?”
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