"Explosive Delivery"

“Red Riot, Meet Your Sidekick”

The late evening air was cool, but sweat beaded on your forehead as another sharp contraction hit, making you grip the passenger seat armrest with a strangled cry.

“Almost there, babe!” Kirishima said, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he sped toward the hospital. “Just keep breathing! Like we practiced, right?”

You glared at him through gritted teeth. “I am breathing, Eijirou—do you want to try doing it while your insides are trying to rip you in half?”

He winced. “Right. Sorry. Focus mode. Hero mode. Got it.”

By the time the car skidded into the emergency parking, you were already moaning through another wave. Kirishima darted out, yelling for help, and within seconds, hospital staff had you in a wheelchair and racing down the hallway.

Once you were in the delivery room, everything felt like a blur. The fluorescent lights were too bright, the hospital gown too cold, and the contractions—insanely close together.

“I feel pressure,” you gasped, clutching Kirishima’s hand. “Like...a lot of pressure.”

He blinked. “Already? That was, what, fifteen minutes since the last check?”

“I’m serious. Something’s happening. This kid isn’t waiting.”

A nurse leaned in, lifting the blanket. Her eyes widened, and she barked over her shoulder, “We need a doctor in here, now. She's crowning!”

“Wait, what?!” Kirishima looked like he’d just taken a hit to the chest. “She’s—already?!”

The nurse met your eyes. “You’re doing great, honey, but this baby’s coming fast. Can you try pushing?”

“Are you kidding?” you panted. “I feel like my soul is about to exit my body.”

“You’ve got this, babe!” Kirishima said, brushing your hair back. “You’ve done harder things. You’re the strongest person I know.”

You barely heard him. Your body was already taking over, legs trembling as another contraction surged through you. You pushed with a cry, and suddenly the room filled with urgent voices, beeping machines, and the grounding grip of your husband’s hand.

“Again!” the nurse urged. “One more time!”

With a scream and a flood of emotion, you pushed—then just like that, it was over.

A piercing cry filled the room.

Your chest heaved, eyes wide with shock and awe. A tiny, wet, pink baby was lifted into the air.

“It’s a boy!” someone called.

Kirishima’s jaw dropped as the nurse placed the baby gently on your chest. He was flushed red, squirming, and absolutely perfect.

Kirishima let out a laugh that was half-sob, half-shock. “Babe… You just— we just—holy hell.”

You looked down at the baby, eyes blurry with tears. “That was so fast.”

“Fast?” Kirishima grinned, eyes glassy. “You just beat me in a race. That was Red Riot levels of fast!”

Despite the exhaustion, you chuckled softly. “Guess he wanted to make a dramatic entrance.”

Kirishima leaned in, kissing your temple. “He’s got your timing. And your strength. You were amazing.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, soaking it all in—the warmth of your baby, the comfort of Eijirou beside you, the soft hum of nurses tidying the room.

“I think he’s gonna be a little hero,” you whispered, “just like his dad.”

Kirishima swallowed hard. “Nah. He’s gonna be a hero like his mom.”

You held your tiny son closer, smiling through tears, your heart full.

Can you make a fanfic that Reader is married to Bakugo and that she's pregnant. And that bakugo's parents are going to sleep over for the past next days due to the due date being so close. Bit midway the dinner, her water breaks. Or that in the middle of the night she gets up to get a glass of water because she's thirsty, and Mitsuki walks down a bit after her. And scares Reader, making her drop the glass of water to the ground. And it makes it look like her water broke, but it didn't. And then like 2 minutes after the rest of them come downstairs due to the noise, and think that her water broke, but Mitsuki reassures them that reader just dropped a glass of water, But then Just as she says "Water" Reader's water actually breaks.

Water, Water Everywhere

It was a peaceful evening at the Bakugo household. The warm glow of the kitchen lights illuminated the room where Bakugo and his wife, the reader, sat with his parents. The two had invited Mitsuki and Masaru over for the night—mostly because the due date for their first child was fast approaching. Bakugo wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type, but he was fiercely protective of his wife and wanted to ensure she had all the support she could get, even if it meant tolerating his parents' presence for a few days.

Reader was sitting comfortably beside Bakugo, resting her hand on her growing belly. The baby kicked gently as she absentmindedly traced circles on her bump. She couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed; the due date was coming closer and closer, and it seemed like everyone around her was holding their breath in anticipation.

“Do you need anything, sweetie?” Mitsuki’s voice cut through the air like the comforting warmth of tea. She was a little too excited about the upcoming birth.

“I’m good, just a little tired.” Reader smiled at her, the exhaustion clear in her eyes but her tone light.

Mitsuki’s eyes softened with sympathy, but she quickly pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge and set it down in front of Reader. “Stay hydrated, my dear. It’s important.”

"Yeah, don't make me worry," Bakugo grumbled from his seat across from them. "I swear, if anything happens to you, I’ll—"

“Don’t finish that sentence, Katsuki,” Mitsuki interrupted, rolling her eyes as she gently swatted her son’s arm.

They all chuckled, and the evening continued on, filled with lighthearted conversations and the gentle clink of plates and silverware. But as the night wore on, Reader's fatigue began to catch up with her. She stood up slowly, excusing herself as she made her way toward the kitchen. She was parched. The baby was pressing against her stomach in a way that made her feel like she couldn’t drink enough water.

She quietly filled a glass and took a long sip, leaning against the counter for a moment as she tried to steady herself. Her body was heavy, and the baby’s movements felt more intense than usual. Just as she was about to turn around, she heard soft footsteps coming from behind her.

Startled, she spun around, the glass of water slipping from her hand and shattering on the floor.

"Ah!" she yelped, hands flying to her mouth in surprise.

Mitsuki, who had entered the kitchen right behind her, blinked in confusion. She hadn’t expected to see her daughter-in-law quite so jumpy. “Sweetheart? Are you alright?”

The crash had been loud enough to stir everyone else upstairs, and within moments, Bakugo and his father appeared at the doorway of the kitchen.

“What the hell was that noise?” Bakugo growled, his voice sharp and full of concern. His eyes landed on the glass shards and the spilled water, and his posture immediately tensed. “Did… did your water break?”

Reader froze, her hand still clutching her chest as she stared at the mess on the floor. “I… I don’t think so. It’s just water.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just—” Masaru started, but Mitsuki held up a hand, cutting him off.

“Calm down,” she said, her voice reassuring but firm. “She just dropped the glass. Nothing to worry about. Right, dear?”

Reader nodded, though a small part of her felt a tiny pang of doubt. Had she actually felt something else? Was it possible?

But as Mitsuki opened her mouth to finish her explanation, Reader’s body tensed up again, and the unmistakable warmth of amniotic fluid began to trickle down her legs.

Mitsuki’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh my god… Did you just—?”

Before anyone could react, Bakugo’s eyes snapped to his wife’s face, then quickly down to her legs. His expression was a mixture of panic and disbelief. “You—your water just broke!” His voice cracked slightly, and it was the first time she’d ever heard him sound genuinely concerned.

“I... I think it did,” Reader said with a shaky breath, her voice betraying her calm exterior.

“Okay, okay,” Mitsuki said, suddenly all business. “Don’t panic. We need to get you to the hospital. Right now.”

Bakugo immediately rushed to his wife’s side, lifting her into his arms with ease. His usual tough exterior was momentarily cracked as he whispered against her ear, “I’m right here. You’re okay.”

Masaru, who was just trying to keep up with the situation, turned to his wife, looking both panicked and impressed. “This is really happening, huh?”

Mitsuki chuckled softly. “Don’t just stand there, Masaru! Get the bags ready, we’re going to be grandparents soon!”

As the chaos unfolded, Reader couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “Well… I guess we don’t need a dramatic entrance after all.”

And with that, Bakugo rushed his wife toward the door, eager to finally meet their baby—though he was pretty sure he was going to need a lot of coffee to survive the night.

“Milk Meltdown”

Bakugo x Fem!Reader + Daughter Chaos + Newborn Baby

Genre: Humor, Family, Fluff

Warning: Embarrassment levels are HIGH

---

You had just settled into the rocking chair, your newborn daughter latched onto your boob like it owed her money.

It was peaceful. Quiet. Almost too quiet.

Cue your four-year-old, stomping into the room like she owned the place, holding a suspiciously empty juice box.

“MOMMY!” she gasped. “IS SHE EATING YOU?!”

You blinked. “What?”

She pointed, eyes wide in betrayal. “THE BABY! SHE’S EATING YOUR BOOB!”

Bakugo, walking past with a burp cloth, froze in place like a dead NPC.

“She’s not eating me, honey,” you tried to say calmly, even though your soul had left your body from secondhand embarrassment. “It’s called breastfeeding.”

Your daughter blinked. “Like...with milk?!”

You nodded. “Yes. Mommies make milk for babies. It’s how they eat before they can have real food.”

She stared. Then stared harder.

“So you're a cow now?”

Bakugo wheezed from behind the couch.

You glared at him. “Do not laugh. I swear to God.”

He coughed into his fist. “Nope. Not laughing. Totally serious.”

Your daughter looked suspicious. “So when I was a baby, I drank from your boobs too?”

You nodded.

She screamed like she was in a horror movie.

“WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THIS?! I THOUGHT I JUST ATE APPLESAUCE!”

Bakugo was crying now. Fully crying.

“I’m never drinking milk again,” your daughter declared. “Ever. Never ever.”

“Good,” Bakugo said. “More for the baby.”

She turned to him, dramatic as ever. “Daddy, are your boobs full of milk too?”

You both stared.

Bakugo went redder than his hero costume. “No. No, they are not. And never will be.”

“But you got big ones,” she said, poking his chest.

You immediately whispered, “Rip, bro.”

Bakugo looked like he needed a support group.

---

Later that night…

Bakugo was laying face-down on the couch. “She called me a milk tank.”

“She’s just confused,” you said, cradling your newborn.

“She moo’d at me.”

“She’s four.”

He sat up. “I’m buying a book. No. A chart. A PowerPoint. I’m explaining everything before she thinks I lay eggs next.”

You snorted. “Go ahead. She still thinks babies come out of bellybuttons.”

He froze. “...I need a beer.”

"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

“Y/N vs. The Filter (Spoiler: There Is None)”

or: That Time Y/N Roasted the Entire Class Before Lunch

---

It started during homeroom.

Y/N had walked into class, late (again), sipping a suspiciously large energy drink and wearing two mismatched socks and a hoodie that definitely wasn’t hers.

“Morning,” she muttered, plopping into her seat.

Silence.

Aizawa raised a brow. “Y/N. Why are you late?”

Y/N blinked. “Because society.”

“…Try again.”

“Because my alarm went off, and I just didn’t respect it.”

“…One more time.”

“I stopped to watch a pigeon fight a squirrel. It felt important.”

Aizawa sighed. “Whatever. Sit down.”

“Oh, I am sitting,” she said, then looked around the room. “And judging.”

Everyone turned to her.

That was when it began.

---

THE NO-FILTER MONOLOGUE

“Denki, you have the fashion sense of a confused lemon. I love you, but why are you wearing two necklaces? Are you dating yourself?”

“Bakugo, I mean this with love — you scream like a dying vacuum cleaner and somehow still pull.”

“Iida, why do you run like someone poured espresso in your engine oil?”

“Todoroki. King. You look like you glitch in real life. Like I stare at you too long and forget my PIN number.”

“Ochako, I adore you, but you sneeze like a cartoon bunny and it freaks me out every time.”

“Sero’s elbows scare me.”

“Sato has main character energy but like, from a sports anime that got canceled too early.”

“Jirou’s music taste makes me feel like I’m about to be stabbed in an emotionally fulfilling way.”

“Momo, your brain is terrifying. I feel like you could invent a murder weapon out of boba tea.”

“Aoyama blinds me once a week. That’s an HR issue.”

“Mina’s energy gives off 'first one to die in a zombie movie but make it iconic.'”

Kirishima: “What about me?”

“You’re too pure. If you ever turn evil, we’re all screwed. You’d kill us and apologize mid-swing.”

Midnight walked in halfway through this and said, “Oh? What’s going on here?”

Y/N turned slowly. “Hi. Love the outfit. You look like if dominatrix Barbie became a pro hero.”

Midnight choked.

Present Mic entered with a coffee and blinked. “Vibe feels chaotic in here. What’d I miss?”

Y/N pointed at him with no hesitation. “You sound like an auctioneer possessed by dubstep.”

“THANK you,” he grinned. “Finally, someone sees it.”

Aizawa, rubbing his temples: “Y/N, what is wrong with you today?”

She sipped her drink. “I had four hours of sleep and a can of something called ‘Monster Lightning Rage X-TREME.’ I can see sound now.”

Bakugo slammed his desk. “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!”

Y/N turned calmly. “Genetics and unresolved trauma.”

---

Later, in the dorms…

“Do you regret anything you said today?” Uraraka asked.

Y/N paused. “Not even a little.”

“Not even the elbow comment?”

“I meant what I said, Sero’s elbows look like they have side quests.”

Sero: “You know what? Fair.”

---

To Be Continued…

As promised! Here is a bakugo fic from the poll♡

Sunkissed Secrets

Characters: Class 1-A x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Bakugo x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Light Romance

The sun was blazing overhead, its golden rays dancing on the ocean waves as laughter echoed across the shore. Class 1-A had finally earned a day off after weeks of intense training, and they were making the most of it with a beach trip.

Somewhere down the sand, Kaminari and Kirishima were in a heated (and mostly ridiculous) sandcastle competition. Todoroki sat under an umbrella, sipping cold juice like it was some sort of high-stakes mission. Midoriya was off with Iida collecting seashells for “strategic inventory reasons” no one really understood, and Mineta was being actively buried in the sand by Tsuyu and Jirou—at her suggestion.

Near the center of the beach, a group of girls—Mina, Ochaco, Momo, and Hagakure—were lounging on colorful beach towels, gossiping and sharing snacks.

You were stretched out on the sand, nestled comfortably on your boyfriend Bakugo’s broad, sun-warmed chest. His arm was lazily slung around your waist, and his eyes were closed behind his sunglasses, enjoying the peace. It was rare for him to look so relaxed. You smiled to yourself, heart full.

“You’re staring,” he muttered without opening his eyes.

“Can’t help it,” you replied with a grin. “You’re cute when you’re not yelling at everything.”

He cracked one eye open, scoffing. “I am cute all the time. You’re just too blind to appreciate greatness on the battlefield.”

You snorted and lifted your head just enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips. He didn’t fight it—in fact, his hand tightened slightly on your waist, lips pressing back with quiet intensity. The kiss lingered a moment longer than intended, the kind that leaves a buzz under your skin.

When you pulled back, Bakugo’s jaw clenched slightly, and his cheeks had the faintest tinge of red—not from the sun. You raised a brow, suspicious.

“…Babe?” you teased, sitting up a little. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just… stay put for a sec.”

You blinked, then felt it—his body stiffened beneath you in more ways than one. Your eyes widened slightly, then a mischievous smirk played on your lips. “Oh… did I do that?”

Bakugo groaned and tugged his towel over his lap. “Damn it, woman.”

From nearby, Mina peeked over her sunglasses. “Y/N, why do you look like you just caused a problem?”

“Don’t worry about it!” you called back, face pink but smug.

The girls exchanged glances and snickered. Bakugo cursed under his breath, dragging you closer so he could bury his face in your neck.

“If anyone says a word,” he murmured, voice low and threatening but laced with affection, “they’re getting blasted into next week.”

You giggled and rested your head back on his chest, heart fluttering.

Best. Beach. Day. Ever.

“Red Marks and Red Faces”

The locker room buzzed with post-mission chatter, half-dressed pro-heroes in various states of undress switching from their hero gear to their casual uniforms. Katsuki Bakugou, still sweaty and irritable from the high-intensity patrol, yanked his tank top over his head and tossed it into his locker.

That’s when it happened.

“Yo, Bakugou,” Kirishima’s voice piped up behind him. “What the hell happened to your back?”

The room seemed to fall into a hushed pause, the question hanging in the air like a live wire. Katsuki stiffened, jaw tightening as he slowly turned to glare over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

But Kirishima was already pointing. “Dude. Your back. It looks like you wrestled a damn wildcat.”

Bakugou blinked, confused for a split second — until the faint burn of the scratches reminded him exactly what Kirishima was talking about. Red marks. Thin, angry lines trailing across his shoulder blades and down his spine. Not deep enough to scar — but definitely obvious. And definitely not from any villain fight.

Kaminari, half in his shirt, leaned over to look. “Whoa. Are those… scratch marks?” He grinned. “Wait, wait — no villain did that. That looks personal.”

Bakugou growled, jerking his shirt from the locker and yanking it on.

“They’re from the last fight,” he muttered.

But it was too late. Sero was laughing now. “Nah, man. That’s not battle damage. That’s some bedroom battle damage.”

Kirishima’s eyes went wide in realization. “Wait. You’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you?”

Bakugou didn’t answer. His ears were already glowing red.

Kaminari gasped like he was on a soap opera. “Was it the girl you brought to the agency event? The one with the cute smile? Damn, Bakugou, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Sero smirked. “Scratch marks like that? She must’ve had a good time.”

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugou snapped, finally losing it, his voice echoing through the locker room. “Mind your damn business!”

But even as he barked at them, his mind flickered back to the night before — your nails raking down his back, breathy moans, the way you whispered his name like a secret only meant for the dark. He hadn’t even felt the scratches in the moment.

He cursed under his breath.

Sero leaned in with a teasing nudge. “Tell her next time to be gentle, man.”

Katsuki shoved him off. “You’re lucky I don’t blow your damn face off.”

Kirishima chuckled and gave him a fist bump on the way out. “No shame, bro. Just maybe bring some aloe next time.”

Left fuming and red-eared, Bakugou slammed his locker shut, muttering under his breath. Still, as he left the room, a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Because the truth was — he didn’t mind the scratches.

Not one damn bit.

---

I pray for you🙏

🆂🆃🅰🆁🆅🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽 ⚰

From the heart of unimaginable suffering, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has supported my family 🙏🏻

Right now, famine is hitting us harder than ever, my heart cries whenever I go to the market to buy any basic necessities! The prices are crazy, and most days my children survive on just bread Hunger and thirst are destroying us, and cooking on fire increases our suffering unbearably! Severe eye and chest sensitivity, in addition to constant stomach pain due to the type of food and the way it is cooked.

All this while we flee from one place to another in fear of bombing, bullets, and imminent danger! I cannot describe what I feel, but it is a feeling beyond exhaustion!

Despite the exhaustion, your support gives us strength and I hope you will not let us down

If you can donate, please do so, or at least help us by sharing, so we can reach those who can

Your kindness truly keeps us going

>> Our campaign is vetted by gazavetters list at Momen & his family

gofundme.com

Donate to Help my family rise from the ashes, organized by Tahir Awad

Hello Everyone, I am Nour Al Madhoun, 30 years old, a computer engineer from gaza, my h… Tahir Awad needs your support for Help my family r

Gaza is full of oppression #The worst is yet to come #Genocide #A resilient people

Blasty Brat & Baby Bear

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x (platonic) Chubby Little Sister OC

Tags: sibling vibes, soft moments, light bullying, Mitsuki being a mom, grumpy x sunshine

---

“You’re seriously making me babysit her?”

Bakugo’s scowl could’ve cracked concrete. Arms crossed, eyes twitching in irritation, he stared down at the chubby little girl peeking out from behind his mom’s legs.

Mitsuki rolled her eyes. “She’s your sister, Katsuki. And I have errands. You can either watch her or listen to me scream for an hour. Pick.”

He groaned like he was being sentenced to death. “She cries all the damn time.”

“I do not!” she squeaked, voice breaking halfway through. Her round cheeks were already turning pink, her hands clutching the hem of her too-big t-shirt. “You’re just mean!”

“And you’re a crybaby,” Bakugo snapped, already turning toward the living room. “C’mon, Baby Bear. Let’s get this over with.”

She blinked. “Baby… bear?”

“Yeah. Round, soft, and whiny. Don’t get snot on the couch.”

---

At first, she avoided him—tiptoeing around, too scared to even ask to change the channel. Bakugo ignored her just as much, only occasionally tossing a jab like:

“Stop stomping, you sound like a baby Godzilla.”

“Why are you always eating something?”

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna cry with you.”

But Mitsuki kept forcing them together.

Board games. Movie nights. Grocery trips. He even got roped into walking her home from school once.

And slowly—very slowly—things shifted.

---

She started sitting closer.

He stopped rolling his eyes when she talked.

She’d bring him little snacks she made (badly).

He’d ruffle her hair when she got nervous.

And when she got picked on at school for her weight?

Bakugo showed up the next day, leaned on the classroom doorframe, and said loud enough for everyone to hear:

“You mess with my sister again, I’ll turn your desks into kindling. Got it?”

She didn’t cry that day.

But she did tell him he looked cool.

And for the first time, he only called her “Baby Bear” once that whole day.

---