Just An Average Saturday Evening

Katsuki Bakugou Dating Headcanons

Warnings: None!

A/N: hey guys 😛

He’s definitely a tough love kind of guy

He focuses on your needs and what’s good for you, even if you don’t like it

Katsuki pushes you to be better, but in the eyes of other people it sometimes seems like he doesn’t treat you well

Acts of service is how he shows his love

He cooks for you, he’ll sometimes do and fold your laundry, he’ll tidy up your room..

You never have to worry about changing your sheets because he does it whenever he changes his

Sometimes if you’re not around, he’ll go into your sock drawer and match up all the pairs

He’ll iron your uniform, too.

He’s honestly big about boundaries-if he does something that you say you don’t like he won’t do it again unless you say he can

He’s not too good with love, so he’s just trying not to mess it up

He’s not the touchiest person, but he’ll let you cling to him if you want to

He’ll hold your hand in public if you want him to but typically that’s as far as he goes

Other people assume it’s because he sees PDA as weakness, when in reality he just thinks affection is something that should be private

He’s much more open to it in private. When it’s just you two he’ll gladly hold you and kiss you

He gives those really painful massages that have you writhing in pain (it’s worth it)

You and Katsuki have the worst arguments..when it happens the entire dorm can hear it

He didn’t grow up with gentle love (just look at his mother) so he has to learn how to disagree calmly

Katsuki not having some super sad backstory does not mean he has a healthy relationship with his feeling

But, truth be told, he hates yelling at you. Especially if you’re not the yelling type of person

There’s a lot of patience required on both sides of the relationship

It gets better with time though!

tags: middle aged bkg x reader, suggestive, they have a college aged child wc: >1k

“i fucked up.”

“watch your mouth,” out of the corner of your eye, you see your husband’s lip curl at the voice in his phone, “what’d you do?”

a beat, and then: “can you get mom? put me on speaker?”

“right here babe,” it comes out muffled around a mouthful of popcorn, eyes still on the screen in front of you, “what’s going on?”

she sighs, big, like she did when she was 3 after you told her it was time to go to bed. for a moment, something snags in your heart. you reach down beside you, patting around on the cushion for katsuki’s hand. he doesn’t even say anything about the popcorn dust on your fingers when he squeezes them.

“i might’ve got caught drinking.”

you can almost hear the cogs turning in katsuki’s brain. “might’ve?”

the pause is just long enough for her to weigh her options. “i did.”

and this is—new. you don’t see any reaction on katsuki’s face when you turn to him. no anger, no nothing—the undisturbed surface of a pond.

just like her mother, the silence is more than she can handle. “i’m sorry,” she says, and her voice gets tighter as she goes on, just like it did when she was 15 and fighting through tears to tell you about the first crush to break her heart. “it was stupid, im so embarrassed—i don’t want to disappoint you and i don’t know why i—“

“oi,” katsuki interrupts the spiral just as you open your mouth to do the same, “take a breath.”

she does—you hear the way it shakes and you want so badly to hold her. to cradle her body to yours and rock her in your arms. but she’s too big now, and she’s too far, and all you can do is squeeze katsuki’s hand harder.

“you alright?” he asks it slowly, like he’s creating the words from scratch as he speaks them. he’s—trying to be delicate, you realize. he’s not angry. he’s worried.

a sniff comes across the line, tinny and pixelated. “yeah. didn’t get sick or anything. i wasn’t drunk, either—just. wrong place, wrong time.”

“sounds more like wrong decision,” you say lightly. you’re not sure when you and katsuki switched roles—when you became the bad cop.

“yeah,” she says, watery again, “it was.”

you listen to her spin the tale—if you close your eyes, you can almost see your little girl there, giggly and flushed like her father when he drinks, tucked under the arm of her roommate in some hole in the wall bar. you know it’s all in good fun, and you can’t think about it too long or all of the what ifs keep you up all night.

it was agony to let her go—to watch her turn from you and walk towards the rest of her life. but it was for this—so she can make mistakes and learn from them.

“can i come home this weekend?”

you have to nearly break katsuki’s fingers to displace the shattering in your chest. “please don’t ever ask to come home,” you tell her, feeling too much all at once, “do you need us to get you?"

"no, i can take the bus, it shouldn't be too—"

you keep one ear on her but let your mind wonder. it's a beautiful and absolutely sickening thing, watching her grow up. wishing like hell she'd have remained the tiny toddler in her dad's arms, knowing that you'll never have that again. but the memory is enough, most days, and this part is pretty cool too.

you say your goodbyes, and she tells you she loves you. then you're bathed in quiet again—the movie in front of you largely forgotten, only white noise now. you look at katsuki, and he looks like he's fighting with himself, and losing.

“why are you smiling?”

“just,” he sighs, dragging his free hand down his face—the other still tethered to you, “glad we raised a kid that can tell us shit.”

that she feels safe enough to call, even when it’s hard. yeah—you’re glad for that too. then, he pivots.

“so what if she comes in while i’m fucking you,” it’s more of a statement than a question—clearly latched on to you telling your daughter to come to the house whenever she’d like. you snort, rolling your eyes.

"we have her location. and also, it's not like we're having sex on the kitchen table anymore. we have a bedroom with a door."

he turns to you, and the grin that spreads slow and heated across his face gives you the same butterflies it did 18 years ago. in fact, it's probably the thing that helped create the child coming home to see you so soon. he's in your space now, corralling you off the couch and into—right, the kitchen—

"we could."

HELLO! This is my first time requesting so my apologies if I didn't do it right

(｡>﹏<)

(Katsuki x insomniac!reader)

I love your writing style smm, so I was hoping you could write one where the reader is like an insomniac, staying up late to be chronically online and stuff and Katsuki tries to help her ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

I struggle with insomnia quite a bit, and I just stay up, scrolling through my phone or computer even if I don't have anything to do on there. And it's not like a one time thing either, it's like every night, and the only way I actually go to sleep is holding my plushies or listening to ASMR/or calming music, but it still takes quite a long time for it to kick in.

So I would love it if you could convey that in one of your oneshots!!

If you don't wish to go through with my request for any reason, no worries and I hope you have a good rest of your evening! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

I wish you tons of love and good times all around, thank you for listening (∩˃o˂∩)♡

katsuki trying to help his insomniac partner

katsuki was writing down what was on the board, listening to what mister aizawa was teaching when he turned his head to see you nodding off. he glared, and checked to see when the teacher wasn’t looking, then reached over to push your shoulder.

you slowly turned toward him and pouted, quietly grumbling, “what?”

“pay attention. you’re not failing this test, idiot.” he scoffed, changing his attention to his paper and trying to solve the equation in front of him.

after a few minutes, he heard a loud thump to his left, and he sighed once he saw what happened, your hair was splayed out everywhere, your head lay on the desk, and your arms wrapped around your head, protecting it in some sort of way. he reached his arm out, not caring about the equation anymore, and wrapped his hand around your bicep, squeezing it, and small explosions landed on your arm, causing there to be a black mark on your uniform.

you swatted his hand away, seemingly wide awake when he whispered, “we’re talking after class.”

you retorted and laughed, “no shit, katsuki, we always talk after class.”

he rolled his eyes and scoffed, done with your antics. but when the time came, and the class was done, school was officially over for the day, he dragged you by your hand into your dorm.

once you set your bags down and yawned, he asked, crossing his arms after he took his clothes off and changed, “why the hell are you always so tired during the day? do you not sleep or some stupid shit like that?”

you shook your head and then nodded, a little confused about how to explain it with just signals. you spoke, “i have insomnia.”

his eyes widened. well, now he felt like an asshole.

he mumbled, “first off, you need to sleep quicker and easier. what do you think makes you calmer and more sleepy?”

“i think being around people i like makes me sleepy because i feel relaxed around them, like a comfort person. then i like listening to asmr, i love listening to soft taps and crunchy sounds! it’s so cool!” you exclaimed.

he rolled his eyes. he didn’t know what the fuck asmr was, but he assumed it helped, so he spoke, “sleep with me tonight, and we’ll put that asmr thing on.”

“really?” you asked, eyes shining with admiration. all he was worrying about was your phone, as you managed to check it around a hundred times a day, even when you weren’t supposed to. who knew what you would be like at night?

so when it came to be around eight at night, you found yourself in katsuki’s dim room, with his large television screen opened up to the youtube app. you complained, “why are we here so early, kats?”

he answered, “because i’m guessing you take a long time to sleep. put on your favorite channel and get in bed.”

he stripped off his shirt as you took control of the remote, typing in the letters of your favorite asmr channel before clicking on a video. you climbed into bed with katsuki and crawled closer to him, wanting to feel his warmth.

after a couple of minutes, you reached over to the nightstand to grab your phone when katsuki forced your hand down. he argued, “no phones past eight.”

you immediately tried to argue as well, “but—“

“go the hell to bed. no phones.” he kept his word, and eventually your eyes started to feel heavy.

you mumbled, digging your face deeper into his side, and around two hours later, after conversations, and switching through multiple videos, he finally felt your breathing evening, and he sighed.

although you had to wake up early in the morning, two hours preparing to sleep was better than many more hours. he smirked to himself, katsuki had to make this part of your nightly routine.

hi i hope this was realistic enough! i’m so glad you love my writing, you have no idea how much this affects me

Sit there and look pretty.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem! Reader

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Katsuki always tells you ‘sit there and look pretty.’ He doesn’t mean it in a petty way he genuinely means it. He wants you to sit down and be your pretty self, when he says it it’s usually regarding something he’s doing. Pretty much telling you to watch him, That or he wants to do something for you.

One of his love languages is acts of service so just let him do what he does best.

From ordering food to making the bed he tells you

“just sit there and look pretty mama I’ll do it.”

And You’d be stupid if you didn’t listen to him.

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.

Birthday sex (Bakugo x Fem reader)

Summary: For Katsuki's birthday you decide to give him the best possible start to his day.

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Katsuki wakes up slowly and then all at once when he feels what you're doing.

You’re laying on your stomach between his legs taking him deep in your throat.

You pull your mouth away and stroke him while you talk.

“Good morning, Suki. Wanted to start your day out good.”

He looks at the black lingerie you're wearing and sucks in a breath.

Before he can say anything you suck the tip then take him again.

He groans and props up a little to watch you. He grabs your hair gently and lets you work.

“Fuck, baby.”

You take him deep in your throat and lock eyes with him. You pull back and swirl your tongue the way he likes.

Whatever you don't reach with your mouth you stroke with your hands.

His grunts and moans bounce off the walls as you work his cock.

"Fuck. Baby, I'm gonna cum if you keep workin' me like that."

You don't stop or slow down. You hollow your cheeks and take him deeper while he grips your hair.

You run your tongue across the thick vein on his cock and let him go with a pop before taking him as deep as you can without gagging.

"Ah- Fuck!" He grips your hair and bucks up into your mouth.

His release fills your mouth and you taste the salty slightly sweet taste on your tongue. You swallow it, slurping and drinking until he's finished.

“Happy birthday, Suki.” You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

His chest rises and falls while he tries to recoup. "You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

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Notes: His birthday being on Easter is so funny to me. And every year it's 4/20 too. Expect some fun content. 🐰🐣 + 😙🍃 Also, please remember to comment if you want to be on the tag list. 🫶

bakugo carries your photo in his wallet, one particularly special to him.

✮ content. pro-hero bakugo x fem!reader. fluff. reader & bakugo are married w/ a kid (brief mention of family). early 30s.

Bakugo keeps a picture of you in his wallet, and no, it’s not from your wedding or a fancy hero gala.

Hell, it's not even recent.

It’s a polaroid that's almost a decade old; faded, creased and worn with time. The scribbled note in permanent marker on the bottom is still legible in your handwriting, a few hearts with the words "love you!!” etched on to it. Mina insisted on taking everyone's pictures for the new year, flashing her camera around until there were little white squares littering the floor. At the end of the night, you grabbed one — the one — that you thought was the best of the bunch. Bakugo still remembers how your face lit up when you found it as if you’d discovered a hidden treasure.

Well, in one way, you did.

It was a sweet moment, one that you viewed as a cute candid shot of you two on the couch together, sitting in his lap with your arms around his neck as he held your waist. But to him? That was the night he knew, all those years ago, that you were his future — his forever.

So now, as he stands at the grocery store shopping for your little family, the photo peaks out of the pocket of his wallet and fills him with a nostalgic warmth. It’s a small token, a reminder, that being the best hero isn’t his only reason to keep going.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

『 #☆ — softie sundays 』

bakusquad as real life hs tropes — ✦ ✦

incl — bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero, mina.

warn — drugs, suicde attempt, underage sex, heavily opinionated, PLEASE DONT ROMANTICIZE THIS GUYS, THIS IS JUST MY EXPERIENCE !

their clique —

bakugou, kirishima, sero, denki, mina & occasionally you, are the popular kids. they get a bad rep because of a very loud and obnoxious boy named katsuki but they've all been unseperable since litterally elementary ( except for that one time kirshima and denki were fighting over mina in like middle school lol ).

the 5 of them are a group but they're always favorites, katsuki prefers eijirou and vice versa, sero prefers denki and vice versa, mina prefers herself and vice versa.

their bond —

mina started to feel less alone now that you're ( kinda ) hanging out with them, ( she invites you to everything, you show up sometimes ) bakugou and kirishima are the student-athletes of the group, ( mostly katsuki, kirishima just can't let himself fall behind ) which leaves denki and sero to be the goofy slightly depressed pair with grades aizawa gave up on trying to restore.

mina is closer with kiri and bakugou, she lives right next to them and so they see each other more often. she used to think after eijirou stopped liking her bakugou started, (she thinks they almost kissed once) but she'd never talked about it and so neither did he.

bakugo is scary, nonchalant, girl repellent up to his seinor year, kirishima fakes nonchalance for all of 30 seconds then decides he actually doesn't care. out of the entire friend group he's had the most partners, denki blames it on the fact hes a fb player, mina brings up the fact katsuki is also a fb player, denki brings up the fact that well, it's katsuki.

denki is highkey the worst influence ever, sero stopped running track because of him, got him into drugs a little, lowkey possessive over their friendship. sero thinks he's fine, has slight fomo whenever denki hogs him from his other friends but can't resist the attention he gets.

smoking buddies who smoke often, sero says he wouldn't ingest anything that doesn't come from the earth, denki is a vape demooonn. im talking acid to adderoll, doesnt matter what it is, long as it can get him high he'll take it. (yes, he is crossfaded constantly, yes his brain is melted beyond oblivion)

the 4 of them ( not even sero ) are completely aware of how bad his addiction is. kirishima lowk suspects something but doesn't have the courage to say anything. ( coward )

mina is social butterfly, instagram queen. knows everyone and everything, everyone and everything knows her ( side note: her favorite person to gossip with is actually katsuki, you'd be surprised on how messy he can be ) she was the first to loose her virginity, also the therapist of the group. ( it's a full time job with them )

told her girls first ( tsu, jirou w/ details ) they freaked when they found out who it was, told katsuki, kirishima, sero, denki in that order ( no details ). kaminari and hanta clapped and whistled, offered weed to celebrate. eijirou nodded in approval, katsuki shrugged. he didn't expect todoroki of all people to be the person yet somehow it wasn't so surprising.

when they were in their junior year of highschool, things got really bad and people started calling them "fallout 5". it of course was nothing like that, denks overdosed on purpose, ( twice in that same year ) lived, then said he hated all of them. bakugou got an injury that put him out of the season forever. sero and kat had his huge fight which left mina to pick a side, kirishima had to move away temporarily but when he came back he didn't come back alone.

their plans —

things were restored senior year! ( took a long healing process for all of them, made them closer ) katsuki wants to be a professional athelete or maybe a lawyer, he hasn't completely decided yet. kiri wants to be doctor, it was kind of unexpected, everyone thought he'd go pro like bakugou. sero wants to be a dj, tells everyone he's going into finace tho. denki wants to be a stay at home dad, but in the meanwhile tries to look for jobs that have anything related to electrical fixing. ( fun fact, he used to be really good at math before he stopped practicing )

+ bonus !!

you were bakugos prom date just for funsies when you went!

when kirshima came out as bi to his friends no one batted an eye. and i quote "girl we been knew that." — mina ashido, the dairy queen drive through.

denki's attempt is what prompted kirishimas major, ( his family is huge and all of them live till 109, he's never had a close relative in his family die or almost die untill now )

while waiting for your food as a joke you say "god i'm so hungry i could eat an izuku midoriya" and because katsuki is a grandpa he completely falls for the bait and makes this huge scene about how you know him ( you've never met him a day in your life, you just stalked a few pages and asked a few people (mina))

The Breakup ✮ BNHA UNI. AU

—

Tears streamed down your soft cheeks as you looked down at the screen of your phone. You had finally removed him from your social media after a much needed conversation. While the breakup was almost a year ago.. it had become complicated. Holding onto feelings you didn’t realize you had, anger, heart ache, disappointment.

You finally reached acceptance. You realized you deserved better and that’s why you and your ex were having the conversation. You had told him you were going to remove him so he wouldn’t question it later on. The conversation was emotional as he apologized for how he hurt you and as the anger boiled over your heart, you knew how to forgive.

The minute your finger left the remove button, a weight lifted off your shoulders, and you knew this was just the start of something new. The start of loving a version of you that you were going to have to learn to heal.

You got up out of your bed and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were glossy and your lips a bit red/sore. You tried forcing a soft smile out of yourself before walking out of your dorm. It was 11 at night and you figured nobody was up and if they were they were on late night missions or patrol.

What you weren’t expecting was to see Bakugou in the kitchen baking cookies. The smell drew you in as you walked down the hall. He was wearing a fitted black shirt with matching black sweatpants and gray socks with slippers.

“Why are you up ?” the sudden question spooked you considering his back was turned to you and focused on the baking sheet filled with cookie dough. However you were well aware of the creaky floor and as a young hero, his ability to be observant. You didn’t reply as you walked over, the silence made him turn to look at you and repeat the question but his words fell short once he noticed the look in your eyes.

For a moment it almost seemed as if he was sad, his facial expression slightly shifted before turning his back to you again and focusing on the cookie dough.

You knew he didn’t want to ask, you rarely cry if not at all, and for you to be vulnerable enough to do it in front of him really shows something is wrong. So you answer the lingering questions for him.

“I removed my ex from my socials..”

“Him and I broke up almost a year ago but it was complicated and I realized..” you hesitated, almost as if the tears you were fighting were threatening to come back.

“I realized I deserved more for myself. He hurt me in so many ways and my self worth is too high to tolerate that pain. So I removed him because I needed to let him go completely. I want to heal and learn to care about me for once” your words were fierce, filled with determination to prove something.

There was silence. He said nothing.

Your shoulders fell softly, after your little speech that eagerness slightly faltered as you found a seat at the kitchen counter and watched as baked.

“I have nothing to say cause it seems like you’ve already got it figured out.” you look up, his back is still turned to you as he speaks.

“Any idiot stupid enough to hurt you was never deserving of you anyway. You saved yourself the stress by getting rid of him. Besides, men ain’t shit.” and that remark earns a chuckle from you which was well needed.

The cookies were done in the time you two spoke and he slid the warm plate onto the counter for the two of you two share.

You smiled at the warm feeling, almost wanting to cry as you’re flooded with so many mixed emotions.

“Thank you katsuki” you look up at him and this time he’s already looking at you. A hint of nervousness reaching its way to your cheeks.

“The right guy will come around alright ? So don’t go stressn’ over these dumbasses cause they’ll just waste your time” he stands up to grab a drink from the fridge as you continue eating cookies, taking note of what he said.

Little did you know the ‘right guy’ was the one currently fighting the urge to prove to you till the end of time how he was the only one deserving of you.

But he knew you needed to worry about you first.

He’ll know when you’re ready and for that he’d wait centuries for.

“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.”