Explosive Love: Part 3 – Baby's Day Out (with Deku & Todoroki)

"Just a Flesh Wound, Bro"

Featuring: Hawks, Mt. Lady, and Fat Gum

The city block was a mess—smoke rising, civilians scattered, and one suspiciously chill figure sitting against a mailbox like she was on break from a 9-to-5 at Chaos Inc.

That figure… was you.

Blood streamed down the side of your head like you were trying to cosplay as a crime scene, and yet there you sat—legs crossed, phone in hand, scrolling like it was just another Tuesday.

Enter: Pro Heroes on Patrol.

Hawks landed first, feathers flicking as he scanned the area. “Whoa there, sweetheart, I think your brain’s trying to escape through your forehead.”

You glanced up. “Oh. Hey. Want some gum?” You held up a pack with bloody fingers like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“…Are you offering me gum while actively leaking out of your skull?”

“Yeah, but it’s watermelon. So, limited time.”

Mt. Lady stomped onto the scene, larger-than-life as always. She squatted down, eyes wide. “Girl, are you okay?! You’re BLEEDING. Like, horror movie bleeding!”

“Am I?” You pulled your phone out, turned it to selfie mode, and gave a nod. “Oh yeah, that’s gnarly. But my eyeliner’s still sharp. So, win.”

Fat Gum ran up, out of breath but full of hero spirit. “We need a medic! Now!”

You waved him off. “Nah, I’m good. I’ve had worse.”

“You’ve had worse than a head wound that looks like a murder weapon?”

“Well, one time I hit my head on a metal pole trying to catch a falling hot dog. Nearly died for a bratwurst. Totally worth it.”

Hawks crouched next to you. “Okay, but like. Real question. On a scale of 1 to ‘you’re about to pass out,’ how conscious are you?”

You gave him finger guns. “I’ve got 3% battery and no charger, baby.”

“…Okay she’s officially my favorite civilian,” Hawks whispered to Mt. Lady.

Fat Gum was already wrapping gauze around your head like he was prepping a burrito. “You’re lucky we found you when we did.”

“Honestly,” you mumbled as your head slumped slightly, “if I die, make sure my funeral playlist slaps. Put ‘Stayin’ Alive’ on it for irony.”

You passed out with a little peace sign in the air.

Hawks leaned over. “I vote we adopt her. Anyone else?”

Mt. Lady nodded. “100%. She's clearly too chill to function alone.”

Fat Gum gently lifted you like a sleepy toddler. “She’s gonna be the most chaotic little sibling we never asked for.”

You snored.

---

Explosive Love: Part 4 – Mina’s Turn (And She’s Ready for War)

Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Babysitter Mina Ashido

Genre: Crack fluff, Chaos, Girl Power vs Baby Gas Power

Summary: After hearing the legends of Baby Boom, Mina insists on babysitting. Confident. Fearless. Fabulous. She walks in like it’s a spa day. But this baby has no mercy—and Mina’s about to find out that cute pink hair doesn’t protect you from napalm-level toots.

---

“Guys, please,” Mina waved her hand dramatically as she slid her sunglasses down. “How bad could one tiny baby be?”

Kirishima and you just stared at her.

“Bakugo almost cried,” you offered gently.

“Deku said his lungs aged five years,” Kirishima added.

“Todoroki won't make eye contact with any infants anymore,” you finished.

Mina grinned. “So she’s a little spicy. I’m spicy. We’ll vibe.”

You handed the baby over. She cooed. Mina winked.

"Girls stick together," Mina said proudly.

From the hallway, Kirishima whispered to you, “We should start a timer.”

---

T+10 Minutes:

Mina was dancing in the living room, holding the baby like she was in a music video.

“We’re thriving, girl!” she sang. “Look at you! A queen! A tiny, powerful queen—”

PFFFFFFFFT.

She froze. The baby grinned.

“Okay,” Mina said slowly. “That was... assertive.”

She sniffed.

“Oh no.”

---

T+18 Minutes:

Mina had relocated to the balcony.

“I’m not saying I’m scared,” she said aloud, talking to the baby like a roommate. “But I did just Febreze your diaper like six times. And you’re still going.”

The baby tooted again. Long. Proud. Musical.

Mina blinked. “That one had a melody.”

She pulled out her phone. “Group chat. Emergency. I’m being farted alive.”

---

T+30 Minutes:

Kirishima peeked through the window.

Mina was standing in the middle of the living room like a war general, armed with lavender incense, baby wipes, and a fan in each hand. The baby sat smugly in a bouncer, thumping her legs like a war drum.

You sipped your drink calmly. “She’s gone full tactical.”

Kirishima whistled. “I’ve never seen Mina sweat before.”

PHHHBBT.

Inside, Mina yelled, “I DON’T DESERVE THIS!”

---

T+50 Minutes:

When you returned, the scene was… dramatic.

Mina was lying flat on the couch, a cold washcloth over her forehead.

“She won,” she mumbled. “I tried… I really tried.”

The baby was sound asleep in her arms, looking peaceful—like she hadn’t just gas-bombed a fully trained pro hero.

Kirishima picked her up and sniffed cautiously. “She’s… calm now?”

Mina sat up slowly. “She was never mad. That’s the worst part. She enjoyed it.”

You patted her shoulder. “She respects you now.”

Mina exhaled. “Good. She can remember that next time, when I show up in hazmat pink.”

---

Next time: Sero and Denki want to babysit together.

"Thin Walls – No Restraint”

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit / NSFW (18+)

Setting: UA Dorms – Bakugo’s Room

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, rough sex, possessive!Bakugo, semi-public risk (thin walls), marking, dirty talk, light biting, aftercare implied

---

Bakugo didn’t waste time once the door clicked shut behind you. His mouth was on yours in seconds, hot and urgent, lips crashing with the kind of hunger he never let anyone else see. Only you.

You barely got a breath in before he pinned you against the door, big hands sliding up under your shirt like he owned you.

Maybe he did.

“You been lookin’ at me like that all night,” he murmured against your mouth, hands gripping your thighs, lifting you until your legs wrapped around his waist. “You knew exactly what you were doin’.”

You laughed breathlessly, cupping the back of his neck. “Maybe I did.”

“Brat,” he growled, slamming his mouth to yours again.

He carried you across the room like you weighed nothing, tossing you onto the bed with a bounce. His shirt was gone in seconds, and you sat up on your knees, yanking yours over your head. His eyes devoured you—like he was starving—and the second you were bare before him, he was on you again, hands roaming, mouth trailing hot, open kisses down your neck, your chest, your stomach.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he muttered, fingers hooking under your waistband. “Spread out for me. Just for me.”

You arched your back as he yanked your underwear down, baring everything to the air and his hungry eyes.

“Fuck,” he hissed, gaze dark and wild. “You’re already wet.”

“Can you blame me?” you whispered, pulling him back down by the waistband of his pants. “You’re so damn hot when you’re possessive.”

That broke something in him.

He shoved his sweats down just enough to free himself, thick and hard and already leaking for you. You reached down to stroke him, but he grabbed your wrist.

“No time,” he gritted out. “Need to be inside you. Now.”

You moaned as he lined himself up, dragging the swollen head through your slick folds, teasing your clit before slowly pushing in. Stretching you. Filling you.

“Oh my god, Katsuki—” your voice cracked as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours.

“You feel that?” he growled, already thrusting, slow and deep. “Feel how perfect you are for me?”

You couldn’t answer. Not with how he was moving—controlled, deliberate, hips snapping into yours with every stroke that sent pleasure spiking through your veins.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, echoing loud through the thin walls. You heard a voice faintly—maybe Kaminari—yelling something.

Bakugo didn’t stop.

“Let ‘em fucking hear you,” he rasped, reaching down to grab your thigh, throwing it over his shoulder for a deeper angle. “Let ‘em know who makes you scream.”

You did.

You cried out his name, nails digging into his arms, legs trembling as he pounded into you with a pace that made your body shake. The headboard slammed into the wall once. Twice. Rhythmically.

“Katsuki—please—I’m gonna—!”

“Do it,” he snapped. “Cum for me. Now.”

He dropped his hand to your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles, and it tipped you over the edge hard. Your whole body arched, muscles clenching tight around him, toes curling as you cried out his name loud enough that the people next door probably dropped their drinks.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s it,” he snarled, hips stuttering. “You’re so fuckin’ tight when you cum—shit—”

He drove into you one last time and let go, spilling deep inside you with a rough groan, biting into your shoulder as his body trembled over yours.

The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the smell of sweat and sex, and somewhere in the distance—a loud bang on the wall.

“Shut up!” Kaminari’s voice rang through the dorms.

Bakugo laughed—actually laughed—low and smug, rolling off you and dragging you onto his chest.

“Worth it,” he muttered.

You grinned, tracing lazy circles on his skin. “Definitely worth it.”

---

Yall I'm like rlly constipated rn XD😍

“A Pup Among Cats”

Wild Wild Pussycats x Baby!Reader

Reader has a dog-related quirk (enhanced smell/hearing, maybe tail/ears?)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family

---

The first time they saw you, you were curled up in a blanket way too big for your tiny body, floppy ears twitching at every sound, big watery eyes staring up at them like they were the biggest things in the world. Mandalay swore under her breath.

“A… dog?” Pixie-Bob blinked. “This baby has a dog quirk?”

“Yup.” The hero who dropped you off looked exhausted. “Enhanced senses. Sharp hearing, powerful nose, slight tail mutation. Probably some tracking potential when she’s older.”

Tiger folded his arms. “You do know we’re the Wild Wild Pussycats, right? We don’t really… deal with dogs.”

Mandalay sighed. “And yet you brought her to us.”

“She needs a home. And you’re registered as foster-capable for quirked kids. No one else has room for someone with her sensory needs. The shelters are full.” A pause. “She doesn’t have anyone else.”

You sneezed then. A tiny, pitiful thing. Your tail wagged once, unsure.

Ragdoll knelt down slowly. “Hi, sweet thing,” she whispered, reaching a hand out. You sniffed it with that super-powered nose of yours, ears perking. “You smell like… tuna,” you babbled.

Mandalay winced. “Okay, that’s kind of cute.”

Pixie-Bob huffed. “Just don’t expect me to like her.”

—

Three weeks later, Pixie-Bob was the one sleeping with you curled on her chest, brushing your little tail while muttering, “Dogs aren’t that bad.”

Tiger caught you trying to chase your own tail and had to step out because “something got in my eye.” Ragdoll taught you how to howl. Mandalay started keeping extra noise-canceling earmuffs in her bag for when your hearing got overwhelmed.

You weren’t a cat. You barked in your sleep and chewed on slippers.

But somehow, you fit. You were their little pup. The odd one out in a house full of felines.

And the Pussycats? They didn't just “deal” with dogs anymore.

They had a reason to love one.

---

Sorry if this was short!

Can you make a story like the one where Mitsuki walked in on reader and Katsuki? <33

"Ground Zero, Meet Grounded"

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Rating: Spicy / NSFW themes (18+) / Humor / Mild embarrassment

---

The second his bedroom door slammed shut behind you, Katsuki’s lips were already on yours — all heat and hunger, like he’d been starving all day and you were the only thing on the menu.

“God, I needed this,” he growled against your mouth, hands gripping your hips like you’d disappear if he let go. His body was hot — hotter than usual — like he was running on adrenaline and teenage testosterone.

“You’re so impatient,” you whispered, breathless already as he pushed you back toward his bed.

“You wore that fuckin’ skirt on purpose.”

You smiled, smug. “Maybe.”

He groaned, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. One hand slipped under your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your bare skin. You barely made it to the edge of the bed before he practically tackled you onto it, his mouth never leaving yours for more than a second.

His weight, his heat, the way he kissed you like he had something to prove — it had your heart pounding and thighs clenching.

“You know how much I’ve thought about this today?” he muttered, voice low and rough as his mouth trailed down your neck. “Couldn’t even focus in training. Fuckin’ Deku almost got a hit in.”

“Oh no,” you teased. “Not Deku.”

He growled and bit your collarbone just hard enough to make you gasp. “You’re such a brat.”

Your laugh turned into a soft moan when his hand slid up your thigh, under your skirt, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear. “Look who’s talk—”

The door burst open.

“Katsuki, dinner’s—”

Mitsuki Bakugo’s voice cut off mid-sentence.

You froze. Katsuki froze.

“OH MY GOD.”

A beat.

Then:

“MOM, GET OUT!”

Mitsuki was already turning on her heel, shrieking down the hallway. “MASARU! YOUR SON IS DEFILING SOMEONE’S CHILD IN HIS ROOM!”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, mortified, trying to pull your shirt back down and find where the hell your dignity went.

Katsuki looked like he wanted to die. Or explode the entire house. Possibly both.

“I’m gonna burn this whole fuckin’ place to the ground.”

"Secret’s Out"

Edgeshot prided himself on precision—both in the field and in life. He had slipped in and out of the hospital with the skill only the #4 Pro Hero could muster, careful not to attract attention. The media didn’t know. The commission didn’t know. Not even his closest colleagues.

And that’s how he liked it.

This was his peace—his sanctuary with you and your newborn son. And he wasn’t ready to share that with the chaos of the hero world.

Unfortunately, fate—and Present Mic’s big mouth—had other plans.

---

It started innocently enough. A casual patrol meeting at the agency. The usual crew—Endeavor, Mirko, Best Jeanist, Hawks, and of course, Present Mic—sat around the table throwing back caffeine like it was oxygen.

Edgeshot stood at the edge, arms folded, face unreadable as always. Calm. Controlled.

Until Hawks strolled in late, twirling a familiar beanie in his hand.

"Yo, Shinya," Hawks said with a smirk, holding up the tiny gray hat with a small embroidered duck. "You, uh, drop this?"

Time stopped.

Edgeshot's eyes flicked to the beanie. His son’s beanie.

"...Where did you get that?" he asked, voice perfectly flat.

"I was flying by the hospital yesterday. Saw a nurse wave it around outside the window. Said someone left it. Had a tag inside that said ‘Shin Jr.’," Hawks said with an exaggerated shrug. "Figured it was a sidekick or... surprise, surprise?"

The room went silent.

Then:

"No way," Mirko laughed, sitting up straight. "Edgeshot has a baby?!"

Best Jeanist narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Hmm... That would explain the recent increase in tactical leave. And the softer demeanor."

"You’ve been smiling lately," Endeavor grumbled, clearly offended by the idea of anyone having joy.

Present Mic practically leapt out of his chair. "OH MY GOD, SHINYA'S A DAD?!" he howled. "WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?!"

Edgeshot, surrounded and betrayed by a single forgotten beanie, let out a long sigh through his nose.

"...Yes," he said quietly. "I have a son. His name is Ren. And I’d prefer to keep it private."

The teasing exploded instantly.

"Uncle Jeanist has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?" Jeanist mused.

"I CALL GODMOTHER!" Mirko yelled, punching the air.

"Does he have wings like me?" Hawks teased, tossing the beanie back.

Present Mic was already brainstorming a baby shower playlist.

Edgeshot stared into the middle distance, wondering if he could sew his vocal cords into a noose.

---

Later that night, he returned home, your baby curled peacefully on his chest as he recounted the day’s chaos.

"They know now," he murmured to you, gently stroking your son’s head.

You laughed softly, brushing hair from his face. "You knew they’d find out eventually."

"I was hoping for at least six months," he said with mock despair. "Now Jeanist’s talking about matching denim for toddlers."

You snorted. "Better than Endeavor suggesting fireproof diapers."

He smiled—soft and small—and leaned his head against yours. In the background, your son stirred and sighed, clutching the edge of Edgeshot’s hero cape like it was his whole world.

Let them tease. Let them laugh.

Because now they knew exactly what he was fighting for.

"Needles & Nonsense"

Summary: Reader’s stubbornness kicks back in, and the adults are not having it

The hospital room was too white.

The walls. The sheets. The buzzing light. It all made your skin crawl. Even worse was the IV line in your arm—a clear tube taped down to your skin like some parasite, slowly dripping fluids into your veins like you were a broken plant.

You glared at it like it had personally insulted you.

You had been stable for two days. That’s what they said. “Stable,” whatever that meant. You still felt like garbage. You couldn’t walk more than five feet without your knees giving out. But that was beside the point.

The point was the IV.

Disgusting. Cold. Invasive. You hated how it felt inside your arm, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Every few hours a nurse would come by and adjust the bag, and you had to just sit there like a helpless child. It made your skin crawl. You weren’t even scared of needles, not really—it was the being plugged in part that made your chest tight.

And honestly?

You were done.

You looked toward the door. No nurses. No heroes. The hallway was quiet. Probably lunchtime.

You glanced down at your arm.

“This is a terrible idea,” you muttered under your breath.

Then you yanked the IV out.

It came free with a squelch and a tiny spurt of blood, and you slapped your hand over it with a hiss. “Ow, ow, ow—grossgrossgross—”

A few drops of saline hit the sheets as the IV line swung freely like a limp vine. You shoved it aside like it was cursed, pressing a tissue to your bleeding arm.

You felt instantly better.

But the second you relaxed, the door opened.

“…What the hell are you doing?” Aizawa’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

You flinched.

“I was—uh,” you started, hiding the bloody tissue behind your back. “Nothing?”

He strode over in three long steps, eyes scanning the scene. The IV was dangling. The bandage was slipping. Your arm was still dripping faintly.

“You pulled it out?!” he barked.

You winced. “It felt gross, okay?! I’m not a science experiment—!”

“You’re a hospital patient,” Aizawa snapped, grabbing a clean cloth and pressing it to your arm. “This is here to keep you alive. You don’t get to decide to sabotage your care because it’s ‘gross.’”

“I didn’t sabotage anything!” you protested. “I’m just—ugh—it’s my body, let me have some say!”

“You lost that say when you let your body fall apart,” he shot back.

You went quiet.

Aizawa immediately regretted his words. His eyes softened, and his voice dropped. “…I didn’t mean it like that.”

But the silence between you stretched like a cracked window.

“I just…” you said after a while, voice small. “It made me feel like I wasn’t even in control anymore. Like everyone’s poking me and watching me and I’m not even—me anymore.”

Aizawa let out a slow breath. “Okay. Okay. I get it.”

You blinked. “You do?”

“I do,” he nodded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that this is still serious. You need those fluids.”

“…What if I drink more instead?” you offered weakly. “Like, a million electrolytes. And juice. And water. I’ll turn into a human Capri Sun.”

Aizawa gave you the driest look known to man.

“I’m being reasonable,” you added.

“You ripped a needle out of your arm.”

“...Emotionally reasonable, then.”

Before he could reply, the door burst open.

Midnight stormed in, Recovery Girl behind her.

“What happened? The monitor started freaking out—oh my god, what did you do?!” Midnight gasped.

“She pulled out her IV,” Aizawa said, tone flat.

Recovery Girl looked like she might combust on the spot. “You what?!”

“It felt gross!” you shouted, holding your arm like a wounded kitten.

Midnight clutched her head. “You’ve been in this hospital for two days and already started acting like an escaped gremlin.”

You huffed. “I wasn’t escaping. I was... asserting autonomy.”

Aizawa held up the bloody cloth. “With blood loss.”

Recovery Girl marched over and sat you up straighter with surprising strength. “If you do that again, I will have someone sit on you. Understood?”

“...Kinky,” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Mmhm.”

Midnight crossed her arms. “Do you hate the needle part or the ‘hooked up to something’ part?”

“…Both,” you admitted. “But mostly the hooked up part. It’s like I’m a USB stick.”

Recovery Girl pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. We’ll switch you to oral hydration and supplements if your blood pressure stabilizes over the next 12 hours. One more dip and you’re getting a double IV.”

You shivered. “Fine. Deal. Oral hydration or death.”

Midnight raised an eyebrow. “Dramatic much?”

“You’re literally talking to someone who steam-bleeds and passed out running down a hallway,” you said, deadpan. “Dramatic is my brand.”

Aizawa exhaled. “I’m too tired for this.”

“I’m tired, you’re just tired of me,” you teased.

He didn’t even crack a smile.

Midnight walked over and ruffled your hair. “Let’s just try to keep the holes in your arm where they belong, yeah?”

You nodded. “No promises.”

“Reader.”

“Okay, okay—I’ll be good. Kind of. Mostly. I’ll aim for like... 70%.”

Midnight looked at Aizawa. “That’s the best we’re gonna get.”

Aizawa just rubbed his temples again.

♡REQUESTS OPEN♡

Things I allow ♧

-fluff

- smut

-angst

-LBTQ

-comfort

-Ed comfort

-Sh confort

-Reader x character x character (three person relationship or more)

-character x character (doesn't need reader to be in it)

-any fandom!

-any character!

-romance

Things I don't allow ♤

-a very dramatic storyline (I just don't like writing too much drama bc I would cringe so bad, sorry!)

Pedophilia or any character x younger

-a way too bloody story

-Family x family

I might come back and update this later when i know something else i would and wouldn't want to have in my fics

I also only take 4-6 request a day, when those requests are taken I will wait 1 or 2 weeks before the requests are open again

"Explosive Delivery"

The delivery room was under siege—and it wasn’t the contractions causing the most damage.

It was you.

Sweat poured down your face, hair plastered to your forehead, and your legs were in the stirrups as another contraction tore through you like a freight train. And yet, somehow, the loudest thing in the room wasn’t the screaming.

It was you roasting the father of your child.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Katsuki said from your side, face pale and panicked.

Your head whipped toward him like a possessed demon.

“BREATHE?! If you tell me to breathe one more time, I’ll shove this IV stand so far up your ass you’ll be dripping saline for a week!”

A nurse dropped her pen. Another subtly ducked behind the heart monitor.

Mitsuki, to her credit, stepped in like a seasoned soldier. “Sweetheart, I know it hurts, but you’re strong—”

“STRONG? STRONG?! You gave birth to this walking anger issue and you survived, so I’m guessing your pain tolerance is WAY higher than mine!”

Bakugo flinched. “Oi! I’m right here!”

“Unfortunately!”

The doctor glanced between you and Bakugo, hesitant. “She’s... crowning.”

You gritted your teeth and let out a guttural scream. “OF COURSE SHE IS, I CAN FEEL MY ENTIRE BODY RIPPING OPEN LIKE A BAD ZIPPER—AND THIS IDIOT WON’T STOP TALKING!”

Bakugo looked like he wanted to disappear. “I’m just trying to be supportive!”

“Supportive?! You flinched when I said I wanted pickles and ice cream at the same time—now you wanna be Father of the Year?!”

One of the nurses whispered to another, “I’ve never seen a grown man look so... emotionally injured.”

The baby was almost there. The doctor guided you through another push.

“You can do this!” Mitsuki cheered.

“Don’t cheer like it’s the f***ing sports festival!”

Another push.

“Almost there!” Katsuki said, leaning over you.

“If you say one more cliché, I will personally ensure this baby is the LAST ONE YOU EVER MAKE!”

“...Yes ma’am.”

Finally, a tiny, furious wail filled the room.

The tension evaporated. You fell back, panting and drenched, while the doctor held up your son.

“It’s a boy!” they announced.

Katsuki stood frozen, staring down at the tiny red-faced infant as if he’d just witnessed God. “He’s... mine?”

You turned your head slowly, narrowing your eyes. “Yeah, congratulations, Captain Genetics.”

Mitsuki laughed. “Well, if he screams like that already, he’s definitely a Bakugo.”

You groaned. “Poor kid.”

Bakugo leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours. “You were badass.”

You cracked a tired grin. “Damn right I was. Next time you push the kid out.”

The nurses agreed silently: they’d never forget this day.

And they would never speak during a Bakugo birth again.

---