MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

Currently thinking about katsuki bakugo dragging me out of the dorms to workout over spring break because I’m low key depressed and I don’t wanna get out of bed and he’s worried but doesn’t want to look like a softie.

OR I would also accept kirishima helping me do basic tasks and being all goofy, like, making me take a shower then wearing those silly headbands and doing skin care with me.

I would also very happily accept Mina making me food and opening my window to let in fresh air and cleaning my room while I showered then curling up in bed with me and watching some bad reality tv show.

-Hii! I'm Khloe-

I write mainly for Katsuki, but I could write for others too!

Please send requests!

Hii! If you don't mind, can you write an bakugou x fem reader where reader likes Katsuki and everyone including Katsuki knows cuz she always gives him gifts (that he throws out), compliments him, and overall just always there annoying him and one day Katsuki had enough and lashed out on her telling her that she's annoying and insulting her. Reader ofc got hurt by this and stopped. You can decide if it's full angst and no happy ending or angst but happy ending!

If you don't like writing something like this it's fine!! I love your works btww!!💕💕

Too Much

You were relentless.

Every morning, you greeted him with that same bright smile. Every training session, you cheered him on, even when he didn’t need it. Every holiday, you left little gifts—protein bars, extra bandages, even stupid handmade keychains with tiny explosions on them.

And every time, Bakugou threw them away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t notice you. No, everyone knew you liked him. Even he knew. How could he not, when you made it so damn obvious? You were always there, always orbiting around him, always pushing and pushing—until one day, he finally snapped.

It happened after class, in the locker room hallway. You had just handed him another stupid little package, a neatly wrapped box with a bow on top. Probably some homemade treat again. His jaw clenched. His patience ran out.

"Tch—just stop it already!"

You blinked, taken aback. "Huh?"

"Just fucking stop, alright? You’re so goddamn annoying!" His voice was sharp, cutting, full of frustration that had been building for months. "Always following me around, always giving me shit I don’t need, always acting like—like if you do enough, I’ll magically like you back!"

Your hands curled around the gift, fingers trembling. The sting in your chest was immediate, like someone had punched all the air out of your lungs. "I-I just…"

"What, huh? You think if you keep this up, I’ll suddenly give a shit? News flash—I don’t!" His ruby eyes burned into you, his scowl deeper than ever. "I never asked for any of this! So just… fucking quit it already!"

Silence.

You swallowed hard, lips parting like you wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, you nodded—once, twice—before clutching the gift to your chest and walking away. No tears. No protests. Just… silence.

And for the first time in a long time, Bakugou felt off.

***

Days passed. You avoided him. You weren’t dumb—you heard people whisper about it. You saw the looks your friends gave you, full of pity. And you hated it. So you threw yourself into training, into your studies, into not thinking about him.

But Bakugou?

He noticed.

At first, he told himself it didn’t matter. But every time he glanced at his desk and saw nothing there, every time he caught himself looking for you in a crowd, every time he found himself missing your voice, something gnawed at him.

And eventually, it ate him alive.

So one day, he found you sitting outside, staring at the sunset, and without thinking, he sat next to you.

You stiffened, eyes flicking to him, but said nothing.

A long silence stretched between you before he finally muttered, "You stopped."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "That’s what you wanted, right?"

His hands curled into fists. "I—…Fuck, I didn’t mean—" He exhaled sharply, frustration mixing with guilt. "Look, I was a dick. I know that. But I didn’t…" He struggled, searching for the right words. "I didn’t want you to go away."

You stared at him for a moment before looking away, voice quiet. "Then why did you tell me to?"

Bakugou had no good answer.

But for the first time, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a small, worn-out keychain. One of the stupid explosion ones you had made. The one he hadn’t thrown away.

And for the first time, you saw the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks as he shoved it toward you.

"Shut up and take it back."

fragile hearts.

bakugo katsuki x f!reader

angst, hurt and comfort. toxic rs (?) happy ending.

aftermath of the screaming competition you’ve had with your boyfriend last night.

Synopsis: You and Bakugo were dating for years already but having a romantic relationship with him doesn’t mean that he’s less meaner to you. Yesterday, he was really tired from training and overworked. When you tried to take care of him, he snapped and said hurtful things for the nth time. This has been happening over and over already.

You were laying down on the bed while scrolling on your phone. Him, on the other hand, is busy with his computer, playing a game and acting unbothered. Both of you refusing to talk to each other.

You heard him sigh to himself. His focus shifts ever so often during his match as he sneaks a glance at you from his peripheral vision. He knows he snapped at you yesterday, but at the same time he was frustrated and tired after having practiced the same move over and over for hours on end. That was no excuse to snap at you, of course, but he’d never admit that. But even while feeling a pang of guilt in his chest, Bakugo keeps his mouth shut and continues to watch his match.

The game comes to a pause and he looks over again at you. The guilt starts to eat at him more as he thinks about what he said to you yesterday. He feels the urge to say something, but his ego and pride holds him back from doing so. He sighs to himself again before deciding to talk to you.

“Hey.”

You didn’t, however, said anything and just keeps scrolling on your phone. That made him want to approach you, thus he sits on the bed right where you are and gives you a sidelong glance. Seeing you scrolling on your phone and looking like you don’t want to talk to him, you heard him sigh to himself again.

“Hey, can we talk?”

You just took a quick glance at him, “About what?”

It’s not like you really don’t know what he wants. He didn’t fail to notice how you respond curtly. He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re still mad at him or not, but he chooses his next words carefully. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s being defensive towards you.

“I want to talk about yesterday… because I know I got a little heated and… said some things I shouldn’t have said to you.”

He keeps his eyes on you, trying to read your expression to gauge what you’re thinking. He is honestly pretty worried that you’d give him a negative response… and quite honestly, that you’d just ignore him and not talk to him at all, which he honestly thinks he deserves but still doesn’t want to happen.

“I just… need to get my head focused and I kinda lost my cool,” he says quietly as he struggles with his words. Bakugo isn’t good with verbal emotions but he really wanted to express himself to you without saying the wrong things.

“It’s fine. I apologize for bothering you, too. Sorry, I’ll let you focus now,” you muttered.

“Is that it?”

You didn’t fail to notice the frustration in his face as he said that. He wasn’t sure if it’s because you’re not even remotely forgiving to him and you’re just going to disregard his attempt at trying to talk to you… or if you’re not interested in talking at all. Either of those two things makes him extremely frustrated as his ego is telling him to just ignore it, but his heart is telling him to keep going.

He furrows his eyebrows and grits his teeth while holding back the urge to get snappy with you. He takes a deep breath and clenches his fists… thinking carefully on what to say next.

“No… I don’t… I can’t just…” he pauses and looks at you for a second before he grabs your wrist, “…Don’t just say ‘it’s fine’ and brush it aside.”

He moves closer to you and looks you in the eyes. He is really trying hard to get you to say something more than just ‘it’s fine’ right now. He needs you to say something… anything. He doesn’t like this kind of tension between you two, especially since he is the reason for it.

He tightens his grip on your wrist slightly before continuing to speak. This clearly shows how frustrated, worried, panicked, and guilty he is with the whole situation.

“Please… talk to me. Don’t act like you’re just okay with it because I know you’re not.”

You were looking down, trying to act fine when it really wasn't, “It’s fine, Katsuki. Really,” you said in a low voice so he wouldn't notice your voice shaking.

He scoffs with frustration at you. He hates how you keep just saying the same thing over and over, as if you can’t even be honest with him. This whole situation is really testing his patience.

“No, it’s not fine. You won’t even talk to me!”

He says while gritting his teeth and furrowing his brows. He is trying really hard to not lash out at you, but you’re really pushing his buttons right now.

You scoff and almost rolled your eyes as you heard him. You recalled what exactly he said yesterday when he snapped at you, you were just doing what he wanted and now he’s still gonna snap at you for doing that? Shouldn’t he be happy?

“I’m just not meddling with your business.”

He lets go of your wrist as he leans back and runs his hand through his hair as he tries to rein in his frustration. He is honestly getting to the boiling point at this point because you are not saying what he wants to hear.

“You’re not gonna mess with my business? You’ve always meddled in my business,” he says dryly. He can’t even help but chuckle bitterly at how hypocritical that sounds as he feels the irony of the whole situation.

You didn’t respond. This is what happened last night, too. You know for sure he’s gonna keep going and repeat all the things he already said. Like what always happens.

He scoffs silently to himself as he looks at you, “You’ve always been around me and now all of a sudden you don’t want to meddle with my business?”

You were keeping your head on the ground, trying not to snap because you know it won’t help. And it’s his job, not yours.

“Isn't that what you wanted?”

He furrows his eyebrows as he gives you a perplexed look. He doesn’t know what you’re trying to get at, which is even more infuriating for him.

“What do you mean what I wanted? I never said I wanted you to not meddle with me,” he says in a slightly annoyed tone as he looks at you with a sharp glare.

“Yeah, that’s not what you said last night,“ you replied, getting tired of him acting like it’s not his fault why you’re acting this way.

He scoffs as he looks away, clenching his jaw. He didn’t expect you to bring that up so casually. The memories of what he said last night came rushing into his mind and honestly… he is starting to regret it.

“…That’s not what I meant… you know that.”

“It is pretty much what you meant. There’s no way you didn’t mean it one bit when you brought it up so many times.”

“Can’t you just forget that I said those things?”

Hearing that, you scoff and roll your eyes. Forget it? Just forget everything he said? How can you just forget it when everytime he snaps at you, it was the same thing he says over and over? There’s no way he didn’t mean it, right?

He can hardly reign himself in anymore. The frustration and agitation is getting the better of him. He is clenching his fists so hard now with a murderous glare in his eyes. He looks like he’s about to explode at any second from this whole situation.

“Why are you acting like this? Are you really that petty because I said some shitty things?”

He raises his voice and steps even closer to you, his eyes fixed on your face. At this point, he’s already lost his cool.

He continues, his voice is getting louder and louder as he talks.

“I told you to stop meddling in my business, so what? All of a sudden you’re acting like I told you to piss off and not talk to me anymore?!”

You scoff for the nth time this day, “I’m just minding my own life. Like you told me to.”

His grip on your shoulders tightens as his fingernails dig into your skin, it starts to hurt. The tension in the air is so thick you can cut it with a knife. He’s clenching his jaw so hard it looks like he’s about to gnaw all his teeth at this point from how strained he is because of all this.

“Katsuki.. you’re.. hurting me. Please, let go,” you said weakly, almost whispering. You closed your eyes shut as you felt his grip just tighten even more, you were already feeling his nails digging right on your skin, despite wearing a sleeve.

He just scoffs and lets out a dry, bitter laugh. He tightens his grip on your shoulders even more as he locks you in place. He continues to glare at you as he speaks with a cold and sharp tone.

“Why? You deserve it. If you’re being difficult, you should expect me to be rough back at you,” he said as if he was out of his mind.

“You’re so frustrated you don’t care if you hurt me?” you asked as if you don’t already know the answer, considering how he acts right now and whenever he’s tired and snapping at you.

“Let go, please. You were hurting me verbally.. through words.. just a day ago. And now you're.. doing it.. physically. You don’t even care anymore?” you muttered in a weak tone. You were tired and you can’t take anymore of this anymore.

He furrows his eyebrows and his grip on your shoulders tightens even more. He clearly doesn’t like you bringing that up, but he keeps his cold glare on you as he continues to respond.

“You still deserve it and should’ve seen it coming for you acting like this. After all, I gave you a way out when I told you to forget about it, but you just kept acting so damn cold.”

Your eyes just widened at his response. He’s.. not thinking clearly. I deserve him hurting me physically because I did what he wanted? Because I chose to stay out of his business like he told me to? Was it my fault?

You couldn’t take it anymore. You keep your eyes shut, preparing yourself to ask the question you never thought will cross your mind.

“Katsuki, at this point.. shouldn’t we just.. end this?”

He stops and freezes as he hears that word come from your mouth. He looks at you with his eyes wide as he feels a wave of shock go through his body.

“End this..?”

He says with a disbelieving tone. He can hardly believe the words that just came out of your mouth. With that, he lets go of your shoulder. You put a hand on it, considering how it hurts so much. He was gripping it like he intended to make you bleed.

As he lets go of your shoulders, he steps back, staring at you with a surprised and disbelieving look.

“What do you mean end this? Do you…”

He stops, the words getting stuck in his throat. It’s almost as if his mind can’t even process it.

“Do you mean end our relationship?”

He says, his voice sounding strained. His eyes are locked on your face, searching for any answers to the hundreds of questions swirling in his head right now.

You didn’t say anything, and your silence was his confirmation. He stops and stares at you. He can’t believe what you just said. It feels like someone had just suddenly ripped his heart out from his chest.

“Why…. Why do you want to end this?”

He asks, his voice hoarse and weak. He feels like he’s about to collapse from the wave of disbelief and shock that just hit him.

He steps closer to you and grabs you by the shoulders, looking at you with a desperate look. He just can’t understand what you’re thinking, and is desperately trying to cling onto anything that can salvage this whole situation.

“Can you just… can you explain why…?”

He says, his voice cracking from trying to hold back the emotions in his chest right now. You shut your eyes again. You chose to ignore the pain in his voice because you know how weak you are when it comes to him.

“I tell you what’s wrong, that you hurt me. You mock me and try to make it my fault. This just keeps happening over and over again. You don’t want to change, that’s why it’s happening again and again. It’s tiring,” you finally said, finally saying what you have been holding back out loud.

He falters as he hears you say that. His grip on you loosens as he stares at you, trying to process the words you just said.

“I…. I hurt you? Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

He can’t help but look at you, his expression now looking like a mixture of guilt, regret, and disbelief in himself. All this time, he thought you were just fine and didn’t know that he was hurting you with how he was acting.

You try not to roll your eyes as he asked that, “I did tell you! All you replied was that I deserve it!”

He stays silent at your reply. That’s right. You did tell him. He remembers now that you did, but he got so caught up in his anger that he brushed you off.

“…I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quietly. He doesn’t know how to make this better anymore, the regret of his actions now weighing heavily on his chest.

He steps even closer to you, his arms now reaching out to wrap around your waist, pulling you tight to his chest. He buries his head against your shoulder, his grip on you tight and desperate as he tries to hold back the flood of emotions in his chest right now.

“I… I’m so sorry,” he finally said.

It’s as if he’s at the verge of sobbing right now. He feels so guilty and remorseful for what he’s done to you, and now it’s all crashing down on him at the thought of losing you.

You didn’t do anything as he hugs you, didn’t hug him back. You just let him.

His voice is weak and shaky as he struggles to keep it together. His body is trembling from the mixture of emotions in his chest right now as he continues to hold you tight against him.

“Please… please tell me I can fix this…” He whispers against your shoulder, his voice raw and strained as he clings onto you, desperate to hold on.

He keeps his head buried against your shoulder, his hands gripping the back of your shirt tightly. It’s clear that he is trying his best to rein in his emotions right now, but he is on the verge of breaking down due to the guilt and regret that is crushing his chest right now.

“Please…. I’ll do anything, just don’t… don’t end this,” he practically pleads with you, his voice cracking slightly from his struggle to keep it together.

That was your last straw. You sighed, knees starting to give up. You were weak. Weak when it comes to him. You can’t handle it when he shows his emotions.. his vulnerable side. You’re weak and so hopelessly in love with him.

You didn’t say anything but wrap your arms around him, hugging him back and burying your face against his chest.

The moment you hug him back, he lets out a shaky exhale of relief. It’s at this point that he lets go of the last of his self control, and just breaks down into your embrace.

His whole body trembles as he clings onto you tightly, his arms wrapping around you as he buries his head against your shoulder. His body feels like it’s collapsing at this point as all the emotions in his chest just come out.

His chest is heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his body and mind overcome with an overwhelming tsunami of emotion.

“Please... I’m sorry... I’m so s-sorry...”

He keeps repeating it apologetically as he hugs you even tighter, his hands clenching the back of your shirt. It’s like he’s scared that if he lets go of you, you’ll just disappear and leave him forever.

“I promise... I’ll change. I’ll do anything to be b-better for you... Please, j-just.. don’t... leave me....”

It was your first time hearing him talk like that, admitting that it was his fault, and that he will change. For you. It was the first time you see him act like this. He was scared to lose you. So scared. And you don’t want to leave him either. Despite all the things that happened and what he did, you can’t help but want to be the one who stays beside him, protect him, take care of him, and love him.

“I’m.. holding you onto that,” you muttered in a soft, weak voice.

He nods vigorously against your shoulder, his arms around you hugging you even tighter. There’s a slight sense of relief in his body now after hearing that you’re not leaving.

“I will... I promise,” he says, his voice shaky and vulnerable as he holds you like he’s holding onto dear life right now. He has no plans of letting you go any time soon.

He takes a deep breath as he continues to hold you tightly in his arms. His body is still trembling slightly as he clings onto you, the whole emotional outburst leaving him feeling weak and vulnerable. He continues to bury his head against your shoulder, not wanting to let go just yet and wanting to stay like this with you for as long as possible.

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.

Okay imagine this - (you don't have to do it, you can delete this if it makes you uncomfy, I love you and you have done nothing wrong ever) - but IMAGINE okay?

Bakugo Katsuki, The Dynamight, number two hero, and his child with you is quirkless (bonus if reader is also quirkless)

Imagine the disappointed ambition - he was so sure the kid would inherit his quirk or something similar, he was so sure - especially since the kid looks like Katsuki - and yet...

I guess I'm in mood for hurt-comfort 😔

Honestly, I see this affecting our dearest mama here, as it’s likely for Katsuki to really fall for someone after being a bully/jerk to them.

Imagine his quirkless sweetheart, desperate to please and impress at all times because they’re just useless without a quirk (thanks to his bullying in the past) and realizing their child inherited their quirkless gene?

Pro-Hero Katsuki Bakugo x Quirkless Fem! Reader!

Growing Pains

cw: SFW • Language (R) • Hurt/Comfort • Bully to Lovers • Child Care (tis the season) • Pro-Hero Katsuki • Fem! Reader • Marriage • Katsuki learns how to communicate a little better

A child is a gift so precious one must always be careful never to forsake it.

That’s what his hag-mother always said at least. The endless joy though which his daughter brought truly lived up to her words though. A gift. A precious, incredibly tiny and fragile, gift he swore to never forsake as he held the bundle in his arms at the hospital.

You looked beautiful even after so long in labor. Joy painting your features and making his heart ache from the sugar being injected into his veins. The love and adoration in your eyes only making his resolve harden further, to protect you both and love you two till his last breath.

So what changed from that moment till now? As a normally happy rambunctious toddler sits in complete stillness with eyes wide in horror. You didn’t look any better, skin perspiration more than his own on a usual day, lip being chewed until the skin breaks and he’s forced to grip you tightly.

“Hey—,” his gruff voice wakes you up.

“I’m so sorry…” his brows furrow in confusion, your apology unexpected and odd.

“The fuck are you sorry for?” He feels the atmosphere in the room start to divulge, his child and you both acting as if you’d heard a cancer diagnosis and not something he’d already considered the possibility of. Of course he’d wanted his daughter to have a quirk, but it didn’t call for such a grave reaction.

“It’s all my fault… I’m so sorry baby…” the tears freak him out more, your tears flowing endlessly as you stare at him with such hopeless eyes he’s startled to his core. Dark garnet eyes widening as a sick feeling enters his gut, something churning he can’t even name. “I failed both you and our daughter, making her weak and worthless like me—,” He’s going to be sick for sure, the sterile little clinic room starting close in on him.

He’s Dynamight, number 2 pro hero, and only because shit for brains Deku was better with the media but still, he’s not sure what to do. How to fix it, as you hold your child and cry, asking for forgiveness from him.

It makes him remember every instance of the past he cringes and does his best to avoid thinking on. Every tug of your hair, every shove to the floor, every time he made you feel small for something so superficial as not having a quirk.

Your tears were endless, and they seemed to spur on his daughter as well, her little sniffles making him nearly enraged as the door creeks open at the worst moment and the doctor returns.

The woman’s sympathetic gaze make him want to punch her, the way she seems understanding and not offended as himself.

“It can be a hard acceptance Mrs. Bakugo, I’m happy to recommend some quirkless support groups for the two of you, then we can look at some family care plans—,”

“What. The. Fuck. Are you talking about? Support group? They don’t need a fucking support group, your raggedy ass bitch—!”

“Katsuki!” “Mr. Bakugo?!” “Papa?”

It didn’t matter, he wasn’t hearing words anymore, top blown and his tempter unleashed as he nearly blows the door off after throwing you both over his shoulder and storming out. Cursing the entire way, uncaring of the phones being pulled out and people whispering and recording. He’d get an earful from the agency but it hardly computed in his mind.

Your fault? It seemed clear enough it was his fault. When all he ever did was make you feel belittled for your quirklessness, small and weak because of it, and now what did it do?

It passed on to his own fucking kid. His fault. This was his fucking fault.

His own eyes were admittedly wet as he shuts you both up in the car. Making sure you both are buckled in safely before he nearly screams once he’s seated behind the wheel. He wants to scream more, yell and break something to deal with the flood of guilt and shame washing him like an old friend.

He never apologized, only pushed it all away like the bullying and harassment never occurred when he started courting you. He’d been in love with you, and that bullying was his sick revenge for making him feel so much adoration for a single individual.

His frame engulfs the seat, muscles taunt and wide chest heaving as he calms down slowly to your silent tears and wobbly bottom lip.

“Katsuki… can we not have any discussions with her in the car…? Maybe we…,” you lick your lips as you fumble over yourself like a nervous wreck in the passenger seat, eyes wide and pacifying as you give him a look filled with a plea. “—Maybe we could have her stay with your mother tonight?”

Because you think he’s angry at you and at her.

For being quirkless.

The most defenseless and precious people to him, the two he’d sworn to never hurt or mistreat, now looking at him with complete devastation and heartbreak. His daughter is never usually so silent and still, sitting like a little doll in her car seat.

He’d always been a confident man. Unshakeable and firm in his resolve because he refused to settle and let himself be anything less than the best.

For all he is though, he’s never felt more helpless and human.

You flinch when the first tear falls.

The sight just as jarring as the realization your child is like you.

Katsuki’s eyes widen before narrowing as he grits his teeth and bares them like a hurt animal, tears spilling as he slams his head on the steering wheel in frustration. The windows tinted and thankfully adding a touch of privacy he’s grateful for now.

“I’m sorry—!” It’s wobbly and hissed like a curse, his apology burning his throat as he forces it out. He can’t look at you as he wipes at his face, shaking his head as he clears it to focus long enough to repeat himself.

“I’m so fucking sorry—never, never did I think less of you ‘cuz you didn’t have a damn quirk—! I was an asshole, a piece of shit that didn’t know how to deal with my crush on you, so I fucking ruined it by picking on you.” His eyes are blood shot, kept wide to prevent anymore liquid spillage but the way his entire face and body scrunch up, it’s difficult to believe he’s able to stop himself on sheer will alone.

“Papa…?” It’s like a slap to the face when he looks over at his daughter to see a spitting image of you both in her, features more like him but personality following you in a way that makes him melt.

“Y’listen good,” he gathers himself up better as he addresses your daughter now. “You will never be less than anyone else, quirk or no quirk, y’hear me?”

“But—,”

“No buts. It’s not up for debate. A quirk doesn’t classify a person’s value. It never has. We just associate them with power when in fact, a bunch of useless quirk havin’ shit stains run the country. A quirk ain’t power kid, power is in will, and that’s all you.” He’s glad you kindly dismiss his slip in language, watching as her little eyes widen and well with tears too.

“So I’m not bad?”

“You’re the best damn thing that’s happened since I met your mom. I love your mom, don’t I? She’s great even if she doesn’t have a quirk. Strong and resilient, patient and smarter than I’ll ever be.” He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight it may break soon if he doesn’t release his grip.

Then he’s being met with you. Your arms wrapping around him, your own muffled cries in his shirt. His hands are around you just as quickly, pulling you into him as much as the small space in the vehicle allows, breathing you in and calming himself as he reaches out and unbuckles your daughter to pull her little body into the bear hug too.

“You mean it…?” Your whisper barely audible as he holds you both close.

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”

And that’s enough for this moment. While he’s not a great man, Katsuki truly never lies, sometimes honest to a point it’s painful.

This is a bittersweet pain though.

Dividers/ @cafekitsune

dabi's first kiss is when you run into him in an alleyway while trying to get away from someone following you. he's just there, minding his business. when you approach him, ask him to help (to which he reluctantly agrees), and ends up making out with you with his back towards the street, effectively hiding you (and him bcs his dark clothes) from whoever was following you around.

Boom! Goes the Dynamight [Bakugo] (Angst)

(One-shot 9/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Bakugo x OC, Katsuki Bakugo, Dynamight, Pro-Hero Bakugo, Pro-Hero OC, Pregnant OC, Some Angst with a Happy Ending, One Explosion Boy, Live Grenades, You'll Understand When You Read It, Bakugo Sometimes Just Be Feelin' Feels, And OC Does Too

Word Count: 1,056 words

Summary: When Ichijiku finds out she's expecting, she worries about how her boyfriend, Bakugo, will react to the news and how it will affect their hero journeys.

Content Warning: An "f" bomb is dropped and there is mild foreplay (but it doesn't get very far).

Ichijiku (Tigress)

Katsuki says life is like a live grenade. It’s ready at any moment to explode and see whether or not you’re worth your weight in nitroglycerine. Thus far his words ring true. Our lives have thrown us plenty of live grenades and tested the very sweat of our palms.

Like when a popular tabloid claimed I was cheating on him, or when I had a cancer scare a few weeks before our anniversary. For a time, it seemed as though we were living in a minefield, each of us skirting around problems and trying to minimize collateral damage as hardships stalked our every move.

Now? Now we’ve finally managed to find some semblance of balance. Katsuki works hard to be the best at his job as a pro hero, and I’m content being a homemaker and underground hero. 

So when another grenade gets tossed at me in the form of two lines on a pregnancy test in our master bathroom, a thousand different worries trickle through my mind. We’re having a baby! What are we going to need? What if I mess something up? Will I be a good mother? What if the baby hates me? Excitement shoves some of these worries to the side and even brings a smile to my face as I spin around, thinking about how cute Katsuki will look holding our child.

And then I stop.

Kids have always been a possibility, but not a possibility Katsuki has proposed in conversation, yet. Though I’ve always hoped and planned to have children in my future with him, anxiety chokes me up when I pull out my phone and just stare at the screen.

My fingers hover over the keypad as my thoughts try to coax me into it. C’mon. No need to be scared. We may not have talked about it, so he’ll be a little surprised. But he can’t be angry when he’s not protecting his package from procreating. I exhale, and then decide against it as ugly voices from my past convince me he won’t be happy.

Not to mention, being a pro hero is a lot of work. How can I add something onto his already-full plate right now? Nausea turns in my stomach and distracts me until I’ve hurled my lunch in the toilet.

Despite my irrational fear that he’ll jump ship and leave me, I remind myself that we’ve been married for four years. While my frantic heartbeat dulls to a steady buzz, I brainstorm other, cuter ways to tell him. Perhaps a bottle of Prego? Too silly. Maybe a Father’s Day card? Not thoughtful enough.

Ideas swirl around in my head, but I’m no closer to an answer when I fall asleep on the couch. 

. . . . .

Katsuki knows I’m hiding something as the weeks pass. I’m a little more shaky around him, a little more skittish. I can’t seem to find the right time to tell him the news. 

But there’s no escaping him after a challenging day of hero work. He’s always more needy after a hard day. When he goes feral there’s no keeping my distance. We barely make it into my apartment when he’s got me flattened in his arms, sprinkling kisses anywhere his lips come into contact. 

“Tonight, Tiger? You’re gonna beg for it, baby.” He grounds out in my ear, already pressing me against him with sparkling eyes. 

“K-Katsuki, I need to tell you something first.” I breathe, knowing that I have to tell him now before he pulls off my clothes and figures out himself. I’m hardly showing at all, but the smallest of bumps is noticeable under my clothes.

And I know Katsuki. He’ll notice.

“It can wait. Damn, I’ve been waiting all day!” He shuffles us over to the couch where he starts kissing from my legs and working his way up my thighs. I use my knees to shuffle him up so I can grip his chin and make him look at me. “Hey!” He growls as he catches my expression and his eyes relax again. “What’s gotten into you today?”

 The nerves return full swing as I think about how to say it. I feel like it needs to be special, like I have to remind him I’m worthy of him and his child. And there’s still that small chance in the back of my mind that he’ll leave. I don’t want you to leave me, Katsuki. I don’t know what I’ll do if you do… Have a little faith, Little One, he’s been loyal thus far.

“Did something happen?” He immediately starts making assumptions as his hands rub circles under my shirt. “Whoever it was I’ll…” Abruptly he stops, and I freeze.

I expect the shock on his face and it terrifies me. He raises up my shirt and I let him, being so quiet I can hear the throbbing beat of my heart. His thumb rubs over my stomach. Looking at it, there doesn’t seem to be much change, but feeling it…he looks up at me with recognition in his eyes.

And then the grenade explodes.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me sooner?!” 

“Don’t you yell at me, Katsuki Bakugo!” I growl, pulling my legs up to my chest and scooting away from him. Such a small emotion seems to flood me with an intense outburst. Tears wash my hands and the comforter. Katsuki seems so far away even though he’s right beside me. “I didn’t tell you because I knew that you’d get angry like this! I knew that you’d yell at me! I was trying to think of the perfect way to tell you…but I was scared you’d react like this!” My breathing elevates, my body starts shaking, and my voice raises a few octaves.

I don’t notice any of it. I don’t give Katsuki any time to respond. When he opens his mouth, my emotions skyrocket again.

“What did you want me to do, Katsuki?! I couldn’t tell you because I was scared that you’d tell me to get rid of it because it wasn’t planned. And I won’t!” I rake my hands through my hair, bearing my teeth at him.

The room is silent for a few moments. My veins boil with unnecessary rage that bleeds into cold panic when I worry my anger will cause him to turn his nose up at me.

“Are you crazy?!” He grits his teeth at me. “I’ve told you once, I’ll never take an action that ends someone’s life! You think I'd get rid of my own kid?!” 

He’s so fast. Always has been. In the next moment, he’s got my arms pinned at my sides and my lips trapped in a hard kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes are softer but he still snarls.

“Stop talking nonsense. I’m not leaving you and we’re not getting rid of the baby.” He puts a hand at my neck, sending my pulse thrumming underneath him as I start piecing his response together. “Don’t you dare think I’d be too weak to take on the challenge of my own child. Do I look that pitiful to you?”

Relief rushes through me as I finally let out a choked sob and cup his face in my hands. Then I pull him close and bury my face in his neck, giving myself a moment to regulate, before I answer.

“No, Katsuki. You don’t.”

Want More Bakugo? Try: Fire in the Hole - Sasses, Spice, and Everything Nice

Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider!

MISSING A DATE . they forget about a big date with you and realize it too late

with deku + bakugou (in their pro-hero era)

one thing about him is that he always tried his absolute best to make time for you amid his busy schedule. you understood that you weren't the only one that demanded his attention due to his work and were okay with that. as long as you still got your 'me-time' with him, where he blocked out the world and focused on you and only you, you couldn't ask for a more perfect relationship.

but this was your last straw. you had forgiven the late nights, the last-minute cancellations—gotten used to being alone in your luxurious apartment, which only reminded you of the one thing you were missing.

you had planned this date for months. a set time where you both blocked off time that night to just be with each other in a word that tried everything to keep you apart.

"remember tonight, baby." you chirped as you kissed him goodbye that morning.

he hummed and gave you a tight hug before leaving.

you felt giddy as you prepared yourself, slipping into your best clothes and fixing yourself in the mirror. you felt as you did on the night of your first date with him. you couldn't be more excited.

then, you waited. and waited. the restaurant happily sat you next to a window, the streetlamps twinkling romantically against the dusky backdrop.

you waited some more. soon your bright posture slouched as your checked your phone. messaged him a couple times, called a few times more. he's probably just running late.

families came and went, and before you knew it, hours had passed.

you burned in embarrassment as you stared at the empty chair across from you, focusing your frustration as if he was sitting there. but even that didn't give you relief. every one of your thoughts and feelings came to the same conclusion—

he hadn't shown up.

IZUKU

you ordered some food to-go. why not get something out of this outing? besides, the food would do good to distract you from the dread swirling in your stomach. you flashed the server a quick smile before dragging your feet out the restaurant.

you threw your bag, coat, and shoes to the ground as you walked into your apartment, uncaring of where they ended up. you needed the couch, a movie, and the food you were carrying.

a few hours later, izuku showed up. you heard the door slide open and the jangle of his keys. his heavy sigh was familiar and it almost made you feel bad for feeling so angry about him missing this date. almost.

you made no move to greet him as he entered the living space, a big grin plastered on his face. "you look pretty."

the compliment was just salt on the wound, ironically. you hummed, remaining laser focused on your show.

he tugged off his white gloves and set them on the table. "what's got you all dressed up tonight, hmm?" he sat next to you, running his hands up and down your arm.

you just handed him one of the takeout boxes. "want some?" you said dryly.

"what's this—? oh, i recognize the name of this restaurant..." he surveyed the box in his hands, his voice becoming quieter as he sunk into his thoughts. "oh."

you got off the couch.

"oh." he repeated, staring at the takeout box incredulously. "baby, don't tell me tonight was—"

"it was." you said simply, walking into the bedroom. you couldn't bear to look at him.

"fuck." you heard him hiss. a light thudding followed as he hurried after you. "y/n, god, i'm so sorry—don't tell me you went there alone—"

"izuku, i don't care anymore." you turned around abruptly, making him skid to a halt before you. his expression read shock. "i don't."

he slumped and inched closer to you. "no, don't say that—"

"you don't give me a reason to care anymore." you laughed wryly though your lips trembled. "i—" your breath hitched and you turned away from him.

his voice sounded watery as he tried to turn your body to face him again. "i'm so sorry, there was a hangout at the agency after work today and... shit, i totally forgot—"

"a fucking party?" you snapped. "you blew off the date you and i planned for months in advance because we never get to spend time together anymore to hang out with the same goddamn people you see every single day?"

he groaned. "i know, i know—"

"you don't know, izuku." your voice quivered. "you don't, okay?" you sobbed.

he was stunned to silence, unsure of how to right something so horribly wrong.

"you don't know what it's like to always be waiting. i'm always waiting for you. you always have something better to do." you sobbed, sitting on the edge of the bed. you really didn't want to have this conversation with him; you knew you'd break down sobbing. you thought it would've been best if he didn't come back home at all.

he knelt beside you, resting his head where your knees hung over the bed. he stared up at your heartbroken face with tears threatening to flow. "there is nothing that deserves my time more than you." he said firmly.

"you say that as if it's true." you said quietly. "but you don't even..." you looked away from him to reign in your emotions.

he frowned deeply. he knew it was all his fault. you reminded him this morning and he still forgot. you had no reason to believe the words coming out of his mouth. that doesn't mean he's going to stop trying to prove them.

he rested his head against your stomach and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "you have every right to hate me right now, y/n. you've been lonely and overlooked and i haven't done anything to make things better."

you refused to look at him.

he tilted his head with hopes of catching your gaze. "y/n, i mean it. there's nothing that deserves my time more than you. anyone else would've left me. you've given me love and understanding with my hero work..." he choked on his words, finally facing the reality of his relationship. "and i've just taken it and left you behind."

you sniffled.

he stood, bending at the waist to kiss your forehead. "i love you. so much. it's time i start proving it, huh?"

your eyes flickered to his, questioning evident on your expression.

he smiled sadly. "japan has many heroes. i'm sure kacchan and todoroki can handle things without me for a while."

you huffed and rolled your eyes. "very funny. you're a hero, izuku, it's in your nature to shoulder everything." you pouted, guilt threatening to inhabit your thoughts.

he shook his head, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "i'm dead serious. the world doesn't need me everyday, you do. and i'll adjust my schedule to suit."

"but..." you groaned. "god, why do i feel guilty now?" you mumbled.

"stop it. you're not keeping me away from anything. this was long overdue. nothing would make me happier," he grinned and kissed you again before tackling you in a hug.

BAKUGOU

you left the restaurant without another word, feeling so sick to the stomach that you couldn't even bear to go home to the empty apartment.

you tried desperately to convince yourself that something important was holding him up. he didn't forget. he just had some life-threatening epic battle that he needed to attend to. he didn't forget.

you crashed at a friend's house for the night, after a very satisfying rant session about your dilemma. they were a great soundboard and didn't try to regulate your emotions. in a lot of cases, just letting your feelings fly free was the best way to cope with a situation out of your hands.

rrrring rrring

you saw the caller ID and was tempted to ignore the call. but your hands moved on their own, accepting it and putting the phone to your ear.

"y/n l/n." bakugou snarled on the other side. "where the fuck are you?"

"a friend's house."

"why?"

you shrugged, hoping your unbothered reaction would be translated across the phone. "wanted to be with someone last night after my boyfriend stood me up."

silence. a very long silence. you heard him cuss under his breath before he replied. "yesterday was our date."

you hummed.

"y/n. come home."

"i'm good here, really."

"i'm serious, come home."

"why? the off-chance of seeing you there?"

his voice grew more desperate. "y/n—" his breath caught in his throat. "i'm home. i'm waiting for you. we can do something today, maybe—"

"katsuki, you can't keep treating me like a test that you can make up whenever you fail the real thing. you're not there when it fucking matters." you snapped, your resolve crumbling as your eyes started to water.

he gave a weighted sigh. "you're right. i've been treating you like shit."

you scoffed.

"but you're always on my mind. every time i see you asleep when you were trying to wait up for me, i—" he inhaled deeply, trying to keep it together. "i'm not the best boyfriend. believe me, i know that. and i'm losing you... i can see that, too."

you waited.

he sniffed. "come home, y/n. please. i—"

you hung up. you tossed your phone aside and stretched. you gently wiped at your cheeks, realizing how many tears streaked them.

after thanking your friend for their hospitality, you decided to go home. you dreaded the conversation that awaited you. uncertainty riddled your thoughts; was this the end?

you opened the door and immediately heard pounding footsteps to meet you. bakugou stood there, looking uncharacteristically stressed and awkward.

you just gave him a passing glance as you slipped off your shoes, hanging your coat up. you walked past him, going to the washroom to refresh yourself with a much needed shower.

as the water ran down your skin, you began to feel guilty. he was a hero. he saved lives. and you were crying over a missed date with him? when his mere presence meant the safety of those around him?

no matter how valid your frustration and sadness was, you couldn't help the creeping guilt from overwriting your feelings.

you stepped out of the shower, then dressed comfortably for a night in. when you opened the bathroom door, he was waiting outside like a puppy.

you sighed. "i'm sorry." you finally said.

his neck snapped to look at you. "why the fuck are you apologizing?"

"you're a hero. i knew what i'd be signing up for when i got into a relationship with you—"

"are you crazy?" he growled, grabbing your cheeks and tilting your face to look at him. he searched your eyes with concern, as if there was something wrong with you. "you don't need to apologize. my being a hero is no excuse for the way i've been treating you."

you frowned. "but—"

"no." he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your head. "you—" he laughed dryly. "i can't believe you thought to apologize to me. you're really crazy."

you opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. "i'm so lucky to have you. seriously. i can't live without you and i will do everything to prove that from now on."

you pulled away and looked at him. "you better mean it."

he gave you a lopsided grin. "i do. thanks..." he trailed off.

you cocked your head to the side. "for...?"

he kissed you gently. "staying." he hugged you tightly, his next words barely a whisper, "i'm always gonna be there for you."

amidst a couple of tears, you believed him.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

You’re My Favorite Flower

Pro-Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x (Fem) Reader

——

~ I’ve been feeling a little down about myself lately, picking myself apart more than I should. But somewhere along the way, I remembered—I’m beautiful just the way I am. That little moment of clarity inspired this fic. It’s soft, a little raw, and full of love (with a sprinkle of smut, tehehe). I hope it reminds you of your own worth too, in some small way. Please be kind to yourself—because in someone else’s eyes, you’re literally everything. Enjoy, lovelies.

❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

The house is quiet when you get home. Bakugou’s still at work, off saving the world while you can’t even save yourself from a few damn tweets.

You didn’t go looking for it. It found you—as it always does. Some fan post talking about Bakugou Katsuki, Pro Hero Dynamight. Gorgeous. Powerful. Untouchable.

And then… the comments.

——

@MtLadyMami25 :

“He’s so hot omg I wish he’d date Mirko or Mt. Lady or someone badass like him.”

@BakubroFan648:

“His girlfriend is cute but I feel like he needs someone stronger, y’know?”

@quirky_shins11 :

“No offense but she’s not on his level.”

——

You lock your phone, eyes burning.

It isn’t the first time. But tonight, it hits different. Maybe because you’ve already been feeling off. Maybe because he’s been working so late. Maybe because some small part of you believes it. You find yourself in the mirror again. Picking. Prodding. Judging.

Why is your stomach softer than it should be?

Have your thighs always had that many stretch marks?

Why don’t you look like those pro heroines with their sculpted bodies and perfect confidence?

What do you even bring to the table?

You whisper it to your reflection like it’s a sin, “Why do you love me?”

You don’t realize he’s home until you hear the door click shut. His heavy boots pause. Then you hear him call, “Baby? You home?”

Your breath catches. You stare at yourself like you’ve just been caught doing something wrong. You try your best to wipe the tears away but your swollen face and blood shot eyes gave you away.

He finds you in the bathroom, standing like a ghost in front of the mirror. His brow furrows instantly. “Hey… what’s goin’ on?” His voice is low, careful, and it just breaks you more.

You bite your lip, look away. “Nothing just had something in my eye, i’ve been trying to pick it out” he looked at you as if you had two heads.“Bullshit,” he says before you can finish, stepping toward you—but you keep going. “I Just… I saw some stuff online. People talking. Saying I’m not enough for you. That I’m not strong. Not good enough. You belong with Mt.Lady or maybe even someone like Mirko” you finally admit.

there was a pause he just looked at you. Your voice is barely more than a whisper when you finally ask, “Why do you love me?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at you—like that question hurt more than anything ever could.

“Katsuki,” you whisper again, tears clinging to your lashes, “Why me? People say you could be with anyone. Someone stronger. Someone who fits with you. Someone like—”

“Don’t,” he growls, stepping forward like he’s physically chasing away your words. “Don’t say that shit ever again.”

You lower your gaze, ashamed.

“Look at me.” His voice softens, and he tilts your chin up. “You think I give a fuck what people tweet about me? About us?”

You shrug. “I just see it all the time… people saying I’m sweet but not enough. That you deserve someone on your level. A hero. A fighter. Not just… me.”

He exhales hard, jaw clenching.

“Baby,” he says lowly, stepping closer, “I’d blow up fucking cities for you.”

Your breath catches.

“Swear to god,” he continues. “If it meant you’d never feel like this again—if I could burn every thought like that outta your pretty head—I’d do it. No hesitation.”

You blink fast, heart thudding.

“You wanna know why I love you?”

You nod, silently.

“Because you’re real. You’re soft in a world that’s sharp. You’re fuckin’ light in all the bullshit I deal with. You make me feel like I’m more than just some weapon. You heal me, every damn day, just by being here.” He pulls you against him, hands firm on your waist. “I don’t need a hero. I need you.”

He leans in then, lips pressing to your temple, cheek, jaw—slow and reverent.

And then, without a word, he starts to undress you. His hands don’t rush. They linger. Like he’s learning your body all over again. Shirt first—lifted over your head, his eyes not leaving yours. Then he slips your pants down, kneeling as he does. His fingers trace every dip, every curve, like they’re sacred. When you’re left in just your bra and panties, he pulls you toward the mirror.

You tense. “Suki…”

“Shh,” he murmurs, standing behind you, one hand sliding under your bra to cup your breast while the other rests low on your stomach. “Look.”

You do—hesitant, but you do. His chin rests on your shoulder. “This stomach,” he says, squeezing the soft flesh gently. “Mine. I love it.”

His hand trails lower, grabbing your hip. “These hips. Fuckin’ perfect. You know what they feel like under me? How they move when you ride me? Drives me insane.”

He slides your bra up and off, both hands coming up to cup your tits.

“These,” he whispers, kissing your neck. “So fuckin’ soft. So pretty. And I love the way they bounce when you’re under me. You ever see how wild you make me, baby?”

Your breath hitches. His hands are worshiping you like he’s trying to rewrite how you see yourself. He lifts your chin slightly, making you meet your own gaze again. “And this face,” he says softly. “I could spend the rest of my life memorizing it. The way your lips pout when you’re sleepy. The way your nose crinkles when you laugh. The way your eyes hold all that kindness that I don’t have.” You feel tears welling again—but they’re different now. Warmer. Full.

“You,” he says, brushing his lips against your ear, “are the only thing that makes this fucked up life feel like home.” Then his hand slides down—slow, deliberate. Across your stomach. Beneath your panties. You gasp as his fingers find you, already wet for him.

“And one of the things they’ll never know…” he says with a smirk, voice gravelly as he nips at your neck, “is how amazing your pussy feels.” You whimper as he strokes you, watching your reflection as your knees go weak against him.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “Look how pretty you are like this. All fuckin’ mine.” He guides your legs apart just slightly more, still behind you, fingers teasing your entrance.

“You think Mt. Lady could make me feel like this?” he murmurs darkly. “Think Mirko could pull sounds outta me like you do?”

His hand works you slow, lazy—like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Let me show you,” he whispers against your skin, “exactly what I see when I look at you.”

And he does.

Over and over.

Until there’s not a single cruel thought left in your head—just the feeling of him, the weight of his love, and the echo of his voice promising…

“You’re everything to me.”