Angst Has A Special Place In My Heart

First time calling him Katsuki.

Paring: Katsuki Bakugou x GN! Reader

Summary: after finals all Katsuki wants to do is cuddle.

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When you first got with Bakugou you thought he wasn’t the cuddling type. You thought he hated affection and anything on the lines of it. Oh did he prove you wrong.

It was a Saturday afternoon and the dorms were far from quiet. Finals had just finished and everyone was having a day to just relax and unwind from the chaotic week.

While you and some of the 1-A girls were hanging out it clicked in your head that your hot-headed boyfriend wasn’t in the commons.

“Hey has anyone seen Bakugou?” You inquired your peers in hopes they’d have some sort of clue on where he could be.

“Nah, I think he’s still in his room” Kirishima peaked over the couch as you walked around still darting your eyes around.

“Hm.. okay..” you trailed off making the decision that you would check his room. Sure enough, when you knocked on his door you could hear a faint grumble.

“What do you- oh hey..” he opened the door with force unknown to the fact it was you at the door.

“Hey I was just wondering where you were” You gave him a soft smile, watching as he looked down to your lips and back up to your eyes. This move going unnoticed by you.

“Whatever.” He scoffed and grabbed your hand hurrying you into his room.

Once he closed the door you noticed his room a bit unorganized which seemed very unlike him, but before you could make any sense of this he picked you up and laid you on his bed with a slight thump. Which was continued by all his body weight against you.

“Baku-gou…” you said in a breathy tone as his weight crushed you.

“Don’t call me that.” He sneered into your chest.

“Huh?” You said not knowing what you should do in this situation.

“Don’t call me that..” he said again in a deeper tone.

“What should I call you then?” You mentally laughed at the question you were asking him.

“My name.” He said, like it was even a question.

“Katsuki?” You said in a soft tone which made him burry his face more and more into your chest.

It made your face warm up but at that point it wasn’t what you were thinking about. It was how he had his arms wrapped around you, not in a possessive way. His hold on you was sweet and caring. Something you weren’t expecting from him.

You knew he liked you, but you weren’t sure if he loved you.

You returned his embrace and hugged him back, if not tighter. Katsuki wasn’t very affectionate so him voluntarily cuddling you made you wanna eat every part of this up.

He sighed, feeling almost relieved at your touch. He didn’t quite grasp how stressful the past week had been until he was in your arms. He didn’t have to do anything besides hug you back. Finally, he could relax.

That day you found out that Katsuki and Bakugou were two different people. Katsuki was soft, caring and affectionate in a silent way and Bakugou was a hot head who was extremely opinionated. Though it seemed he had two alter-egos, he was still your boyfriend that you cared deeply for. Even loved.

DIVAASSSS

tried drawing these amazing strongk ladies for the first time :^)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

BIRTHDAY SUIT | Bakugo Katsuki

synopsis: Bakugo never made a big deal about birthdays—just another day in his book. But you're not letting this one slide. As his partner, you know better than anyone that under that explosive exterior lies a man who deserves to be worshipped. And tonight, that’s exactly what you plan to do. Dressed in nothing but a gift-wrapped surprise, you give him a present no one else ever could—you.

content: smut, shameless smut, established relationship, lingerie sex, birthday sex, reader takes the reins, blowjob, sloppy, cowgirl , orgasm,

Bakugo never cared about birthdays. For once, he'd let you celebrate him.

No grumbles, no sarcastic muttering under his breath about “dumb-ass traditions” or “waste of time.” No disappearing off to train. No flinching when his friends shouted “Happy Birthday, Katsuki!”

He actually stayed. Enjoyed it.

The apartment had been buzzing earlier with close friends, laughter, drinks, and too many snacks. But now, it was just you and him. The glow of warm lights filled the room, soft music playing low from the speaker. The scent of buttercream and spiced candles lingered in the air.

“Sit,” you said, nudging him down onto the couch.

He dropped onto it with a tired, satisfied huff, one arm slung over the backrest as he watched you crouch beside the small stack of gifts left on the coffee table.

“Ya didn’t have to do all this, y’know,” he muttered. “Just havin’ you around is—”

“Shut up,” you smirked, passing him the first box. “You can get sappy after we’re done with presents.”

He rolled his eyes, but the blush on his ears gave him away.

One by one, he opened them. A couple of gag gifts from Kaminari, a surprisingly thoughtful book from Todoroki, custom gloves from Kirishima. A shirt from you he’d side-eyed in a store window a few weeks ago but pretended not to like. He’d mumbled, “Not bad,” when he saw it then—but the way he smiled when he saw it again tonight? That soft, flickering look in his eyes?

Yeah. He remembered.

But the last gift made him still.

He turned the box in his hand like he didn’t quite recognize it, even though you knew he did. You watched his fingers move slower—more careful. He lifted the lid and saw it:

A first edition, limited-run All Might training journal.

Something he’d mentioned in passing once during a midnight walk months ago. Something he said he always wanted but could never find.

He stared at it in silence, thumb brushing over the embossed edges.

“…You remembered that?” he asked, voice suddenly quieter. His eyes lifted to yours.

You smiled gently. “Of course I did.”

Bakugo swallowed hard, cheeks pinking up in a way that had your heart blooming in your chest. “You’re insane,” he muttered. “You know that?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “A little.”

He blinked hard, then cleared his throat.

“Alright, alright—cake. Let’s get this over with before I start feelin’ like a damn Hallmark card.”

You brought over the cake, candles already lit, your face glowing in the soft flicker as you sang the most off-key, dramatic “Happy Birthday” you could manage. He groaned, but he didn’t stop you.

He blew out the candles.

You sliced two pieces, handed him a fork… then stole it right back.

“Say ah.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You really gonna hand feed me right now?”

“wedding reenact,” you said, lifting a bite to his mouth.

He opened it, still scowling—but barely—as you fed him a chunk of cake. He chewed, crimson eyes on you the whole time.

“Good?” you asked.

He gave a slow, appreciative nod. “Yeah. sweet.”

"that so..."

You leaned in, swiped a little frosting from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips looked so soft, gilding your frosted coated thumb onto them, then kissed it off his lips, pressing your own into the softness of his. It started soft.

But when your lips brushed his again—slow, warm, and just a little longer—his hands naturally found your waist, pulling you closer until you were nearly in his lap. He kissed back, gentle but hungry, lips parting to taste more of you.

You murmured between kisses, breath hot against his mouth: “Birthday kiss.”

He blinked slowly, his lips still parted from the kiss, eyes dazed and focused only on you. His hands stayed warm on your waist, thumbs stroking slow, thoughtless circles into your skin through the thin fabric. His gaze trailed over your face—your lips, your flushed cheeks, your eyes so full of mischief and adoration.

“You’re everything,” he murmured, almost like it slipped out without permission.

You kissed the tip of his nose, giggling softly. “Thank you.”

And then?

His grip tightened. Just slightly. And he pulled you into his lap.'

“You keep lookin’ at me like that,” he muttered, voice thick and low, “I’m gonna forget we were takin’ things slow tonight.”

You leaned in, straddling him without hesitation, your thighs hugging his hips as you settled against him. His body welcomed you instantly, his hands sliding up your sides, fingertips dragging the fabric of your top slightly—like he wanted less of it between you.

“I was never planning to go slow,” you whispered, brushing your lips just barely against his jaw. “Not tonight.”

His breath caught—sharp, audible. You felt it in his chest, the way it stuttered under your palms. His reaction was subtle, but every part of him twitched with anticipation: his hands, his legs beneath you, the slight lift of his hips like he was already imagining how this night would end.

“Got one more present for you,” you murmured into his ear. “The real one.”

Bakugo’s brows lifted, suspicious. “Thought that damn journal was the real one.”

You grinned, climbing off his lap for just a moment—enough to walk toward the bedroom with that sway you knew drove him wild.

He watched, chin propped on his hand, eyes darkening the second your fingers dipped beneath the hem of your top as you disappeared down the hall.

“Oi,” he called. “What kinda present needs you to change for it?”

You didn’t answer.

But when you reappeared in the doorway—lingerie clinging to your curves like a second skin, chosen with him in mind—Bakugo sat up so fast he nearly knocked the fork off the coffee table.

Your name left his mouth like a groan.

“Holy shit…”

You were wrapped in delicate black lace, the kind of thing he never thought he’d see outside a magazine, and even then—never on you. Never just for him.

His mind blanked.

No words, no witty comeback. Just the shape of you silhouetted in the soft golden light. The way the sheer material clung to your curves, catching every dip and swell like it had been tailored with him in mind. The way your thighs moved when you walked, slow and sure, like you knew what that sight alone was doing to him.

His mouth had gone dry.

And still, he sat there—frozen on the couch, like his body had been rooted to the spot. Only his eyes moved, dragging over you with almost painful reverence.

Your presence wasn't just seen. It was felt. In the sudden hush of the room. In the way the air itself seemed to shift as you crossed it. There was a softness to it—like watching a flame flicker behind glass. Dangerous, but so goddamn beautiful.

Something in his chest ached.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw you like this—wanting him like this. That wide-eyed, breath-stolen reaction always snuck up on him.

His gaze caught on your collarbones, then drifted lower—hesitating on the swell of your breasts barely veiled by lace, down the soft line of your stomach, until it settled between your legs, where the thin strip of fabric left far too little to the imagination.

The sight knocked the wind out of him.

One of his hands, resting uselessly on his thigh, curled into a fist. The other—he didn’t even realize—had wiped itself discreetly on his jeans, sweat clinging to his palm.

Not from nerves. No. Never that.

Except maybe this time, it was.

Because you were walking toward him now, hips rolling, eyes locked onto his, and he could feel his body respond before his brain had even caught up. His mouth parted. Breath shallowed.

God, the way you moved. Like you were pouring yourself into every step. Like you weren’t just walking to him—you were offering yourself.

It made his pulse stutter.

And when you climbed back into his lap, warm skin settling over the growing heat in his jeans, he couldn’t think. All he could do was feel. Your nails dragging against the nape of his neck in ghost trails feather-light, his body withered under the touch. Your perfume mingling with his senses what scent was that? and why cant he stop sniffing you.

"You smell really good baby...really good" his nose ghosted your neck, hips pulling you closer. Your thighs oh so soft to him, bracket him so warmly.

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

He just looked.

Admiration wasn’t something Bakugo handed out easily—not to friends, not to strangers, and definitely not out loud.

But he was looking at you now like you were everything. Like you were a dream made real. Like he didn’t know whether to kiss you, worship you, or fall to his knees for you.

He couldn’t stop drinking you in.

How had he gotten this lucky?

You kissed him again. Slowly, reverently. The kind of kiss that curled toes and short-circuited nerves. You would use a hand to pull him by the shirt, and when you pulled back just enough to murmur, “Happy birthday, Katsuki,” his lashes fluttered low, heat gathering in his face as he let the words sink in.

His breath hitched when your hands found his chest.

Just fingertips at first, dragging over the fabric of his shirt like you were memorizing him all over again. You didn’t rush—just let your palms glide across solid muscle, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath as your thumbs brushed the edge of his ribs.

He was already warm under your touch. And you hadn’t even done anything yet.

Leaning in, you pressed a kiss just beneath his jaw.

Then another—lower, slower. Your lips parted against his throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses in a trail that dipped down the curve of his neck. His skin twitched under each one, the breath in his lungs turning shallow, rough.

“Knew you’d do something like this,” he murmured, but the strain in his voice made it sound more like a confession than a tease.

You didn’t answer. Just smiled against his skin, your teeth grazing lightly before you sucked. Gently—just enough to make him feel it. And then again, lower. His hands tensed at your waist.

You tilted your head to kiss along the other side of his neck, scattering another series of soft hickies—like you were branding him in lace and affection.

A groan vibrated in his chest.

Your fingers slipped to the hem of his shirt. He didn’t resist. Didn’t even move.

He just watched you. Quiet. Obedient in a way only you got to see.

You peeled his shirt up, inch by inch, revealing the planes of his stomach—warm, lightly flushed, his abs tightening beneath your gaze. You kissed his chest slowly as you exposed it, lips brushing across firm muscle, leaving kisses that lingered just a little too long.

You didn’t break eye contact.

Not once.

Even as you sank further down, mouth worshipping the path beneath his sternum. Even as your nails lightly scratched up his sides, drawing out a low hiss from between his clenched teeth.

His body was buzzing now—caught between restraint and surrender.

And it was beautiful to watch him come undone like this. Strong and scarred and still, somehow, soft for you.

His head tipped back slightly, jaw clenched, one hand gripping your hip while the other fisted into the couch cushion. His thighs flexed beneath you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the word half breath, half plea.

You hummed softly, letting your lips hover just above his waistband.

“You’re warm,” you whispered, voice sultry and low, like you were letting him in on a secret. “All over.”

And he was.

Buzzing. Flushed. Waiting.

With his chest bare, his breathing ragged, and his eyes glassy with anticipation—he looked up at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Your lips hovered just above the waistband of his sweats, breath brushing against the faint trail of hair disappearing beneath the fabric.

The muscles in his abdomen tensed again.

And still—you didn’t touch him where he wanted you to. Not yet.

Instead, you lifted your gaze, locking eyes with him as your mouth curved in the faintest, knowing smirk. There was power in the way he was watching you. Tension in the way his thighs shifted restlessly beneath yours.

Every inch of him buzzed.

For you.

“Can I take these off?” you asked, voice honey-slow.

Bakugo grunted, half-dazed. “… yeah.”

He sounded so obedient watching every moment like a patient puppy. His beautiful crimson eyes shimmering under the soft glow of the room.

Your fingers dipped under the waistband and dragged it down slow. The fabric caught on the hardened outline of him, and he hissed through his teeth as you freed him from the restraint.

His cock sprang up, flushed and heavy, already leaking at the tip. His hips twitched upward involuntarily, like his body was pleading before his mouth could catch up.

You made a sound of appreciation in the back of your throat—soft, reverent—before leaning in to press another kiss, just above the base. Your tongue flicked out, tasting the warm skin there.

His whole body shuddered.

“Y-you're really gonna take your time with this, huh?” he muttered, voice rough, but low with awe.

You didn’t answer.

You just looked up again, lips parted, pupils blown, hands pressing to his thighs to steady him—before licking a slow, flat stripe from the base to the tip.

Bakugo cursed under his breath, his hand flying to the back of your head on instinct—but it never pushed, never forced. Just tangled in your hair, holding on for dear life.

Your mouth closed around him, warm and wet and unforgiving.

And he melted.

His head tipped back, jaw slack, a ragged moan slipping past his lips. You sucked him down slow—sloppy and deep—letting your tongue trace every sensitive vein, letting your spit drip down over your hand as you worked the base.

He was a mess.

Every time you hollowed your cheeks and sank lower, his thighs tensed. His breath hitched. His hips jerked upward before he caught himself, groaning through clenched teeth.

"Fuck... baby… you—goddamn."

You pulled back just enough to swirl your tongue around the head, then sank down again, deeper this time.

And he twitched in your mouth, body locking up as you moaned around him.

The sound went straight to his spine—he was pulsing now, barely holding on.

When you pulled off with a wet pop, spit connecting your lips to him in a string, you wiped your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, lips swollen, eyes hooded.

“Wanna ride you,” you whispered, climbing back up into his lap. “Can I?”

Bakugo was panting. Eyes glassy. Completely undone.

He swallowed hard, leaning into your chest to whisper "Please.”

You hovered over him, your hair framing your face so bewitchingly.

You lined him up with your entrance, already soaked and pulsing for him. And as you sank down, inch by inch, his eyes rolled back and his hands grabbed your hips like he needed something to anchor him to this earth.

You moaned low as he stretched you open.

“Shit—so full,” you breathed, resting your palms on his chest.

“Look at me,” he rasped, voice trembling. “Wanna see your face.”

You did. And when your eyes met his—when he saw the way you looked at him, like he was the only one you ever wanted—his whole expression softened.

His hands caressed up your waist, slow, reverent.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he whispered, voice shaking.

You didn’t move right away.

Not really.

Instead, you hovered just above him, your entrance brushing the slick, sensitive head of his cock—barely letting him in, just enough to tease. Just enough to let him feel the heat of you. Your thighs flexed slightly, hips rolling in slow, agonizing circles that dragged your soaked folds over the tip again and again.

A soft, wet sound filled the space between you. Your juices clung to him, thick and sticky, smearing across his shaft with every grind.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head thunking back against the couch. “You’re—fuckin’ killin’ me.”

You smirked, gaze flicking up to watch him.

And god… the way he looked right now? His chest rising with every ragged breath, his lip bitten raw, his knuckles white where he clutched your hips. Every muscle in his thighs was trembling beneath you. Twitching with the restraint it took not to thrust up and bury himself in you.

You leaned forward, your chest brushing his while your hips stayed in motion—rocking slowly, teasing him with slick, hot friction.

“I thought this was your birthday,” you purred into his ear. “Shouldn’t I be giving you what you want?”

Bakugo grit his teeth, his jaw tight with tension.

“I do want this,” he growled. “You drivin’ me fuckin’ insane like this—teasin’ me—makin’ me feel like I’m gonna explode just from the tip—shit…”

You giggled, soft and wicked, and sat back just enough for him to watch.

One of your hands reached between you, guiding him so the head rested right at your entrance again. You gave a few slow bounces—just the tip sliding in and out, each time making him curse louder.

“S-shit! Baby—fuck—fuck, just let me in—” His voice cracked, his fingers digging into your skin like he was about to lose it.

You finally pressed your hips down a little more, letting him sink in halfway.

His mouth fell open, a deep, guttural moan ripping out of him. His head snapped forward to look at where you were taking him in, flushed and wide-eyed.

And you just smiled at the desperation in his gaze.

“are you feeling good baby,” you whispered, dragging your nails lightly down his chest.

“God—yes—fuck yes,” he hissed, eyes fluttering as you dropped down another inch. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby. You always do. Always…”

You leaned in again, letting your breasts press to his chest as you kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Then you better hold on,” you whispered, breath hot, “because I’m not gonna stop until you’re a mess for me.”

And with that, you finally sank down fully. All the way. His entire body jerked like he’d been electrocuted.

He let out a strangled sound—somewhere between a moan and a gasp—his head rolling back, hands gripping your ass like he was holding onto sanity itself.

You didn’t move for a moment.

Just stayed there, so full of him, clenching around him until he twitched helplessly inside you. And then—slowly, sinfully—you started to ride.

Your hips began to move again—slow, like honey melting in warm sun, like a wave building over time until it crashes. You circled them, let your walls flutter around him just to feel the way he shuddered beneath you. His eyes opened halfway, heavy-lidded and glazed, following every sensual sway of your body like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And to him—it was.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, your palms gliding up his abdomen. “You’re so deep.”

A sharp breath hissed between his teeth. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, but his hips bucked once—shallow, needy. You kept your pace measured, deliberate, grinding down into him with that same velvet friction that made his head roll back again.

“Shit,” he groaned, the sound low and desperate. His hands were clutching at your waist now, not to guide, but to ground himself. “You’re squeezin’ me so good—I can’t—baby, fuck—please.”

You leaned down slowly, dragging your lips across his collarbone. Then lower—pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest, his stomach. As you moved, your body rolled into his, your rhythm never faltering, hips undulating in a steady, torturous rhythm.

Every time you sank down, he twitched inside you, groaning louder.

“I love the way you sound,” you whispered, licking the salt from his skin. “All desperate and sweet. My perfect birthday boy.”

He looked at you like he’d melt.

One of his hands slipped up your back, tangled into your hair, tugging lightly as you nuzzled his neck. You licked a stripe just beneath his ear, then suckled gently at his skin, your teeth dragging slightly—leaving soft, loving hickeys along his neck and collar.

And every one had him groaning, his cock jerking inside you.

“Gonna mark you up tonight,” you murmured. “So everyone knows who you belong to.”

“I already do,” he rasped, voice nearly broken, “fuckin’ been yours.”

You smiled into his skin and sat back again, palms braced against his chest as you began to bounce now—slow, deep, full bounces that had him clenching his jaw and moaning through his teeth. His abs flexed beneath your hands. His hands gripped your hips tighter.

Your name left his lips like a prayer.

Your hips found a rhythm—delicious, sticky, sinful—and the way he filled you, the way he responded to every little grind, made your legs start to tremble.

He felt it. His hands slid down to cup your ass again, helping support your movements as he watched you from beneath heavy lashes.

“Baby,” he breathed. “You’re—fuck—you’re gonna make me come—just like this?”

You leaned forward again, kissed him deep, then pulled back just enough to whisper:

“Yes. Inside. Don’t hold back. I want you to come just like this.”

He let out a wrecked moan, his hips finally thrusting up to meet yours, matching your rhythm.

Faster now.

Deeper.

You clung to his shoulders, your mouth falling open as the coil inside you tightened and tightened—

And then he gasped—head thrown back, mouth open, cock twitching violently inside you as he spilled, deep and thick and hot, fingers bruising your hips while he cursed your name like a confession.

You didn’t stop.

Not even then.

Still slow. Still steady. Still riding out every aftershock as he moaned beneath you, overstimulated and undone.

His eyes fluttered open, glassy and soft as they met yours. His hair stuck to his forehead. His chest heaved. His hands slid up your spine, arms curling around you as he held you close.

Your chest heaved against his, his heart pounding against your ribcage like a war drum. He was still buried deep, twitching, oversensitive—but you didn’t move. You just cradled his face, tilted it up so he had no choice but to look at you.

“Listen to you,” you whispered, voice sultry and sweet as sin. “Mouth full of curses… all because I couldn’t help creamin’ all over that fat cock.”

Bakugo groaned through clenched teeth, face flushed and jaw tight like he was holding onto the last thread of sanity.

“You heard it, didn’t you?” you murmured, grinding just enough to make him jolt, to let another wet, obscene squelch fill the space between you. “God, the noise we made—bet our neighbors think I was drowning in it.”

He groaned louder, head falling back against the couch.

You leaned down, kissed the corner of his mouth, slow and lingering, then whispered, “Soaked you, Katsuki. You feel how messy I made you? Look at your lap—look at what you did to me.”

He peeked down—eyes glassy—and let out another hoarse, broken curse when he saw the slick still glistening between your thighs, dripping slowly down both of you.

You rocked your hips again, so delicately, and he twitched inside you, helpless. His whole body shivered with a groan, his head collapsing on your shoulder "fuck enough"

You grinned. “You liked it when I sat there and shook my ass on it, didn’t you? Teasin’ you right on the tip ‘til you were cussin’ like you were about to lose your damn mind, yeah?” you grind.

“You’re—fuckin’ evil,” he gasped, fingers twitching against your waist.

You kissed his jawline this time, biting lightly just below his ear. His hands gripped you tighter again, like he was about to flip the script—but he was still spent, still weak from how you dropped your ass on him, He just held you there instead, breathing ragged, letting you purr filth against his skin.

social media has really warped our perception of creativity and hobbies. Stop doing things to post them. Just write. Just journal. Just sketch. Just read. Just annotate. Just sing. Just crochet. Just do the thing you’re going to do with the assumption no one will ever see or know you did it. Stop performing. Just enjoy it.

won't lose you again

bakugo x reader

zombie au inspired by @ryoflix sukuna fic -> read here

His memory plagues your thoughts everyday, your younger years getting harder to hold onto as your mind focuses on your last moments with him.

You wish you had stopped him, told him it wasn't worth the risk or even go with him. But you know he wouldn't let you put yourself in danger for something as small as scavenging.

The big strong man he was, he told you he had it handled. He promised he would be back by sunset, you waited and waited but he never came back.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt, trying calming your frantic mind. Maybe he decided to explore further away from home, got stuck in a store with a horde outside, or better yet maybe he found others and they were brainstorming a way to get back to you.

But as days passed and your stockpile got smaller, you knew he wasn't coming back. Your mind refused to think of the worst, pushing back the idea and pretending he had just gone exploring.

As you equipped yourself in protective gear, you looked around the makeshift home you built with the man you've loved for years. Taking in the small table the two of you would share scraps over, and the small mattress in the corner decorated with what you could find in these trying times.

Your mind flashing with memories of the two of you, him holding you close as you listened to the noisy horde outside, how he'd whisper promises of a better future with you when the world got better.

He use to measure your ring finger every night, giving you a small smile as he uttered "I love you."

It's been so long since you heard those words. A nightly tradition gone in the blink of an eye.

You couldn't stay reminiscing about the man you love forever, you had to find food before you starved. So with a soft click of the door, you went out searching. Recalling all the tips and tricks he told you, making sure you were light on your feet as you walked and dodging the areas that were always crowded.

Going past your usual scavenging vicinities, you stumbled upon an empty looking jewelry store. From the looks of it, it's been deserted for a while. The plants overgrown and covering half of the building, the door broken off its hinges as if someone forced their way in.

You didnt hear anything as you carefully crept through the entrance, broken glass and jewels littered the floor as you went deeper inside.

Peering around, you couldn't help but feel like you weren't alone. You couldn't feel eyes on you, but you sensed another figures presence.

The sound of glass breaking under your feet made you flinch, you couldn't help but silently laugh as you thought of Katsuki yelling at you for such a small mistake. His years of teachings going down the drain.

A shuffling sound made you freeze in your steps, your back turned towards the source as you held your breath. The sound slowly getting closer at a staggering pace, your body silently shaking as you prayed it was a survivor. But the low groan had you spinning around, your hand moving to the knife strapped to your thigh, preparing to go into fight or flight.

You couldn't help but gasp as your sights filled with those ruby red eyes you've adored everyday.

He looked like the same boy you've loved since you were young, but also different at the same time.

His domineering and strong stance was now sluggish, his shoulders hunched and head slightly titled as he stared at you. His skin now a sickly pale with blueish purple veins lining his body.

But his eyes, his eyes weren't fogged like the undead usually were, his was the same bright red.

"Katsuki?" You whispered out, hoping to get a reaction out of him. Something that told you he was still in there.

With baited breaths you waited, watching him until he slowly up his hand. The groan leaving his lips sounding like your name.

Your eyes couldn't help but well up with tears, smiling as you walked closer finally reunited with your love.

But as you got closer, his groans turned aggressive as he used his hand to try and grab you. He froze mid swipe, his eyes slightly widening as he stilled his actions. You could tell he was fighting his undead instincts from trying to bite you.

With what little humanity he had left Katsuki held out his other hand, his palm slowly opening to reveal a sparkly engagement ring. The design similar to the one you always described to him in your late night promises.

You tried to bite your lip to silence your sobs, taking the ring from his palm, he watched as you slipped the ring onto your finger. Flexing your hand towards him as you would if this was a normal proposal.

You knew he wanted you to run, leave him here to rot so you could have a chance of survival.

But instead you came closer, closing the distance between the both of you. You could see in his eyes as he fought with him self, slowly losing his rationality the closer you got.

With a tearful smile you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close and titling your head to expose your neck. A silent tear rolling down your cheek as you cradled his head, the pain shooting through your body as his sharp canines sink into your skin.

i am NOT done yapping about how in love husband! katsuki is with his dear wife.

you were curled up on the couch later that night, katsuki’s arm draped around your shoulders while you scrolled through twitter again. he was half-asleep, head tilted back against the cushions, soft breaths leaving his lips.

just as you were about to close the app, another tweet popped up on your feed— one that made you freeze.

original tweet: "yeah babe gimme a minute, js fighting crime rn"

underneath was a blurry, mid-action shot of katsuki during a recent mission. in one hand, his phone was visible, screen lit up, while his other hand was mid-explosion, sending a villain flying backward.

the kicker? he was grinning at his phone. not his usual battle-hungry, determined smirk. no, this was softer. goofy. a full-blown, lovesick idiot smile.

the kind of smile he only ever gave you.

"oh my god. katsuki," you whispered, shaking his arm. "wake up."

he groaned, cracking one eye open. "what now?"

you shoved the phone in his face. "explain."

he squinted at the screen, brow furrowing. his jaw immediately clenched when he recognized himself in the picture.

meanwhile, twitter had already decided:

- "hero of the year goes to dynamight for texting his wife while fighting crime."

- "bro’s out here fighting for his life and still prioritizing his girl. goals."

- "im jealous. getting a text back while he's FIGHTING VILLAINS IS CRAZYYY"

his mouth opened. closed. then he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. "shit. didn't think they got that on camera."

"you didn’t think holding your phone in the middle of a fight would get caught on camera?"

"i was multitaskin'!" his ears were bright red.

"oh, for fuck's sake," you huffed, half-frustrated, half-melting into a puddle of affection. "is this why you said 'one sec babe, busy' that one time like you were busy with, oh, i don't know, paperwork instead of fighting a damn villain?"

"i had it under control," he grumbled, running a hand over his face. "was just checkin’ in on you."

"checking in?" you echoed, laughing. "you were literally detonating someone with your other hand!"

he groaned. "s’not my fault. needed to text my girl. s'not a crime."

your heart stuttered. "while fighting villains?"

"yeah, well...ya texted first."

you blinked. "so this is my fault?"

"yeah," he crossed his arms, cheeks turning pink. "maybe if ya didn’t make me smile like a fuckin’ idiot, i wouldn’t get caught slackin’. you seemed excited over something... figured you'd wanna talk."

your heart stopped for a second, warmth flooding through you.

"you’re such a dumbass," you said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. you leaned up, wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling into him. "missed me that much, huh?"

he huffed but didn’t stop you, his arms tightened around you, his embarrassment giving way to quiet satisfaction. "yeah, yeah. always miss you."

and the next time you texted him during work, you made damn sure to add:

"don't text back. fight the damn villains first."

he didn’t listen, obviously.

"they can wait. they know my wife is important."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

Happy Birthday Katsuki!!! 💥🎉

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝐷𝑎𝑚𝑛 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠

The training you shared, the long nights of studying—it was all behind you now, replaced by quieter, yet just as intense moments. A something more that no one wanted to admit, but neither of you could ignore.

The moment that changed everything came between flour, tomato sauce, and a promise he made about teaching you how to cook after you’d tried to poison him with a pizza even you didn’t want to taste. So you dragged him into his own kitchen, demanding he keep his word. And he agreed—grudgingly, but he did.

You were distracted. Way too distracted.

And who could blame you, with him that close? Bakugo, in profile, the warm kitchen light tracing the lines of his face, his brows furrowed in concentration as he arranged the pepperoni with ridiculously unnecessary precision. Then he bent down a bit, flexing his back to reach the dough better, and you couldn’t help getting lost in the image. That damn angle. Damn Bakugo.

Then you moved.

It wasn’t even a conscious decision. You didn’t think it through. It was a reflex—a need born straight from the heart.

You leaned toward him, slowly, everything else fading out except him.

You just wanted a taste.

You just wanted to know.

What would it feel like to cross that line? To touch what both of you had been avoiding for so long?

And then—just when your lips were about to brush his...

He pulled away.

Fast. Too fast.

His shoulders tensed all at once, the pepperoni still in his fingers slipped and hit the floor.

And the world... just stopped spinning.

Your eyes searched for his. Tried to find answers, an excuse, anything to tell you that you hadn’t read the signs wrong, that you hadn’t crossed some invisible line without permission.

But he didn’t say a word.

He just stared at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide like he was trying to make sense of what had just happened too.

Had you actually tried to kiss him?!

There was no doubt now.

Bakugo’s heart started pounding—almost violently. He wanted to say something—just one damn word, one stupid excuse, anything—but nothing came out. His body was on autopilot, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t try to take control.

Not this time.

With slow, almost reverent movements, he lifted his hands and brought them to your face. His fingers, rough from training, gently touched your warm cheeks. There was no room for doubts. No more confusion.

He leaned in.

And he kissed you.

He pressed his lips to yours with an intensity that held back weeks—no, months—of restraint.

He had no idea if he was doing it right, if he should move more or less, if he should tilt his head differently… but he didn’t care. Not when he could feel you responding, not when you weren’t pulling away, not when you weren’t breaking the moment.

When you were kissing him back.

And even if it was clumsy, even if it was his first damn kiss. It said I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know it’s you. It said I care—so fucking much.

And that was enough.

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

Hi Neema!

May I please request Katsuki x Reader, where they'd broken up a few years before because he was so into his work that he accidentally made her feel like she was holding him back, and at the reunion he apologizes and asks her if she's willing to try again? (And of course the answer is yes!) Fluff, maybe hurt/comfort, possibly car smut?

Never Really Over

The reunion wasn’t your idea. If it had been, you wouldn’t be here.

You’d spent the last few years carefully avoiding the places and people that would bring up memories of him. Not because you hated him—not even close—but because it had taken you so damn long to stop hurting every time you thought of Katsuki Bakugou.

But here you were.

The bar was buzzing with familiar voices, old classmates from UA greeting each other with excitement, some already three drinks in and laughing too loudly. You nursed your drink at the edge of the crowd, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might ask too many questions.

And then, you felt it.

That crackle in the air, like the moment before a storm.

You turned before you could stop yourself. And there he was.

Katsuki Bakugou, in the flesh.

He looked… good. Too good. He always had, but the years had refined him, softening some of the sharp edges just enough to make them even more dangerous. His hero uniform was gone, replaced by dark jeans and a fitted black button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing the corded muscle of his forearms.

And his eyes. The moment they landed on you, they widened—just slightly, but enough. A flicker of something raw passed through them before he masked it.

You forced yourself to look away, pretending to be engrossed in the condensation on your glass.

But it didn’t matter. His footsteps were already headed in your direction.

“Hey.”

The voice sent a shiver down your spine. Deep, familiar, threaded with hesitation—something you never thought you’d hear from him.

You took a steadying breath before looking up. “Hey.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. You could hear the chatter of your old classmates, the clink of glasses, the hum of music in the background. But all of it faded because Katsuki was here, standing right in front of you, and you had no idea what to say to him.

He was the one who broke it.

“You look good,” he said, eyes scanning you like he was memorizing every detail.

You gave a small smile. “You too.”

A dry chuckle. “Yeah, right.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You been doin’ okay?”

You hesitated. That was a complicated question. “Yeah,” you settled on. “I mean, it took a while, but I’ve been good.”

Katsuki exhaled, looking away for a moment. “Yeah. Same.” His voice was gruff, like the words were hard to admit.

Silence again. It wasn’t awkward, exactly—just heavy.

You sighed, deciding to rip the band-aid off. “Katsuki, why are you here?”

His gaze snapped back to you, and for the first time, you saw it—guilt.

“I needed to see you,” he said, voice quieter now.

You swallowed. “Why?”

He exhaled, jaw tightening. “Because I was an idiot. And I owe you an apology.”

Your heart stumbled over itself. “An apology?”

His hands clenched at his sides before he forced them to relax. “Yeah. For… everything.”

You let out a soft breath, staring into your drink. “Katsuki, that was years ago.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “Too fuckin’ long, actually. But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret it every goddamn day.”

Your chest tightened. “What exactly do you regret?”

His crimson eyes flickered with something pained. “Pushing you away. Making you think you weren’t important to me.” He took a deep breath. “You were the most important thing in my life, and I was too fuckin’ blind to see it.”

Your breath caught.

Katsuki clenched his jaw. “I thought I was doin’ the right thing. Thought I had to put everything into being a hero so I could be good enough. And you—” He broke off, exhaling sharply. “You were always so damn supportive, and instead of appreciating that, I just made you feel like you were in the way.”

He looked at you then, eyes raw and open in a way you’d never seen before.

“I was wrong.”

You stared at him, heart pounding.

“I never shoulda let you go,” he admitted, voice rough. “I should’ve fought for us. Should’ve fucking seen you instead of drownin’ myself in work like an idiot.” His hands clenched again. “And I know I can’t change what happened, but I just—” He broke off, exhaling sharply. “I just needed you to know that. That it wasn’t you. It was me.”

Your fingers curled around your glass. “Katsuki…”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “I still—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I don’t expect anything from you. I just wanted to say it. To finally tell you how sorry I am.”

You stared at him, feeling everything all at once—the heartbreak, the longing, the years of missing him. The late nights where you wondered if he ever thought about you the way you thought about him.

And now, here he was, telling you everything you had once needed to hear.

You inhaled sharply, gripping your glass. “You still what?”

Katsuki’s gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, he just looked at you. Then, quietly—almost too quiet for him—he admitted,

“I still love you.”

Your breath caught.

He let out a rough exhale. “And I know I don’t deserve shit from you. But if—” He hesitated, eyes flickering with uncertainty. “If there’s any part of you that still feels the same, I—” His jaw tightened. “I wanna try again. If you’ll have me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You should’ve been angry. Should’ve told him he was too late, that you’d moved on, that you didn’t need him anymore.

But the truth was, you’d never stopped loving him either.

Your heart slammed against your ribs. “You mean that?”

He exhaled sharply. “More than anything.”

You bit your lip, searching his face. He was serious.

Your fingers tightened around your glass. “If we do this… I need to know it’ll be different.”

Katsuki nodded without hesitation. “I will make it different. I swear it.”

You inhaled, your heart screaming at you to just say yes.

And then you did.

“Okay.”

His eyes widened. “Wait—seriously?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yes, dumbass. Seriously.”

For the first time that night, Katsuki actually looked stunned.

Then, without thinking, he grabbed you—one arm wrapping around your waist, the other cupping your face as he kissed you hard.

You gasped against his mouth, but it only took a second before you melted into him, gripping his shirt as he kissed you like he was making up for lost time.

When he finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, breathless.

“I won’t fuck this up again,” he murmured.

You smiled, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You better not.”

He smirked. “Guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of my life provin’ it to you, huh?”

Your heart swelled. “Guess so.”

And as he kissed you again, you knew—this time, you weren’t letting go.

***

The reunion was long over by the time you and Katsuki stumbled out into the parking lot. The cool night air kissed your flushed skin, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his body beside you. Your hand was clasped tightly in his, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his thumb traced soft, nervous circles against your knuckles—an almost boyish fidget you’d never seen from him before.

He glanced at you, crimson eyes flicking down to your lips. The hunger in his gaze made your stomach flip, and your body responded instinctively, leaning closer.

“Gonna keep lookin’ at me like that all night?” he rumbled, voice low and dangerous.

You smirked, emboldened by the rush of adrenaline. “Depends. You gonna do something about it?”

A growl escaped him, a predatory grin spreading across his face. “Get your ass in the car.”

He dragged you to his sleek black car—an obnoxiously expensive model you recognized from countless magazine covers. The Hero Dynamight’s flashy ride. The moment the doors unlocked, Katsuki shoved the driver’s seat back, giving himself enough space before pulling you in.

The second the door clicked shut, his hands were on you. Rough, calloused palms skimmed up your thighs, dragging your dress higher as he crashed his mouth against yours. The kiss was all heat and desperation—teeth clashing, tongues tangling, a groan rumbling from his chest when you bit his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” he grunted, dragging you closer until you straddled him, knees pressing into the soft leather of his seat.

His hands roamed possessively—one gripping your hip, the other trailing up your spine before tangling in your hair. He tugged just hard enough to force your head back, exposing the length of your throat. Hot lips brushed against your pulse point, nipping and licking, and you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped out.

“Katsuki—”

“Say it again,” he demanded, voice a growl against your skin.

“Katsuki,” you repeated, breath hitching.

His mouth latched onto the curve of your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark—a signature of sorts. Your hands slid up his chest, fingers tracing the firm lines of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Missed this,” he muttered against your skin, palms squeezing your hips. “Missed you.”

The admission sent a jolt through you. “Me too,” you breathed.

Katsuki’s eyes burned as he reached for the buttons of your dress, nimble fingers making quick work of them. The fabric slid off your shoulders, pooling around your waist and exposing the lacy bra you’d picked out on a whim. His gaze lingered, hunger darkening his eyes as he traced the curve of your breasts.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped, large hands cupping you through the lace. His thumbs brushed over the peaks of your nipples, teasing until they hardened beneath his touch.

Heat pooled low in your belly, and you rolled your hips against him, dragging a ragged groan from his throat. You could already feel him hard against your thigh, straining against his jeans.

“Impatient?” you teased, breathless.

He smirked, fingers sliding beneath your bra to flick your nipple. “You’re talkin’ a lot of shit for someone already so wet for me.”

You bit back a whimper as his hand drifted lower, slipping beneath the hem of your dress. Rough fingers pressed against your clothed core, feeling the dampness already seeping through.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he drawled, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

Heat flushed your face as he pressed two fingers against your slit, rubbing slow circles that had your thighs trembling. He pushed your panties aside, a satisfied grunt rumbling from him when he felt how slick you were.

“Shit,” he muttered, eyes blazing. “Didn’t even fuckin’ touch you yet.”

Your head fell back as he slipped a finger inside, curling it just right. A soft moan slipped past your lips, and he took advantage, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss.

“More,” you gasped, hips rocking against his hand.

He complied, slipping in another finger, pumping them slowly before picking up the pace. The lewd sound of your arousal filled the car, mixing with your soft moans and his rough growls.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he grunted, pulling his fingers free. The slick sheen coating them had his eyes flashing dangerously. He brought them to his mouth, tongue dragging over them as he hummed appreciatively. “Still taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

A whine escaped you, and Katsuki’s lips curled into a cocky grin. “Impatient little thing.”

Your hands found his belt, fumbling in your haste to unbuckle it. Katsuki’s lips found your jaw, trailing heated kisses down your throat as he reached to help, shoving his jeans and boxers down enough to free his length.

You bit your lip as you looked down. He was as intimidating as you remembered—thick and heavy, tip already flushed.

“See somethin’ you like?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, but your hands wrapped around him anyway, earning a low, guttural curse. He was hot and hard beneath your touch, and you stroked him slowly, relishing the way his eyes narrowed.

“Quit teasin’,” he growled.

“I thought you liked a challenge?” you taunted.

He shot you a glare that melted into hunger as you lined yourself up, pushing your panties aside and sinking down onto him. The stretch was intense, a burn that quickly melted into pleasure as you took him inch by inch.

Katsuki’s head fell back against the headrest, a strangled groan escaping him. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging in as he fought for control.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted. “Tight as ever.”

You gasped as he thrust up, filling you to the hilt. The angle had sparks dancing behind your eyelids.

“Katsuki—!”

He smirked, teeth catching his bottom lip. “C’mon, move. You can take it.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You rocked your hips, setting a rhythm that quickly turned desperate. Katsuki met your movements with bruising thrusts, fingers digging into your hips to keep you steady.

“Always so damn good,” he praised, eyes locked on where your bodies met. “Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

Your head fell back, a broken moan spilling out as he angled just right, brushing against that sweet spot.

“There,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. “Right there—”

Katsuki’s smirk widened, pace turning relentless. “Yeah? Like that?”

“Yes—fuck—Katsuki!”

His grip tightened as he thrust harder, determined to unravel you. Heat coiled tighter, and your breath caught as the wave crashed over you—pleasure stealing your breath, leaving you trembling around him.

Katsuki cursed, hips stuttering before he buried himself deep, groaning your name as he followed you over the edge.

For a moment, you were both still, breaths mingling as you leaned against his chest, bodies sticky and tangled. Katsuki’s fingers brushed soothing circles along your spine.

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You smiled against his skin. “Missed you too.”

He smirked. “We’re not done, y’know.”

You blinked. “What?”

The wicked grin spreading across his face sent a shiver down your spine. “Said I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?”

Heat pooled low in your belly again as he bucked his hips. “Hope you’re ready for a long night.”

You bit your lip, grinning. “Bring it on, Dynamight.”

kiaaa so I have a question I just saw this in tiktok https://www.tiktok.com/@lita5201314/video/7479405030550899975?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc and..how would katsuki react if this happened? not a request but i couldnt stop imagining katsuki just panicking and reader just dumfounded by what happpened :)

you’re in the kitchen, bent over to grab a fallen spoon, completely unaware of the menace behind you.

katsuki has that look in his eye—the one he always gets when you're in leggings and he's feeling handsy. you’d been teasing him all morning, walking around in one of his old shirts, humming to yourself like you didn’t know what you were doing.

so he stalks up behind you, raises a hand, aims to give you a firm smack on the ass—

smack!

but you move. and instead of ass, he clocks the back of your head.

you yelp, stumbling forward a little, hand flying up to cradle your skull. “ow?!”

katsuki freezes, eyes going wide with horror like he just accidentally took out a toddler with a dodgeball.

“shit—baby—fuck.”

he drops his hand like it betrayed him and rushes up to you immediately, hands already hovering around your face like he’s checking for trauma.

“you good? you dizzy? need water?? i didn’t mean to hit your damn head, i swear—”

you’re laughing so hard you’re almost crying, which only deepens his panic.

“don’t laugh—fuck, you’re concussed, aren’t you?” he mutters, tucking your hair behind your ear, squinting at your pupils like he’s a damn emt. “you feelin’ lightheaded? babe? say your name. what year is it? who’s the fuckin’ president—”

“katsuki,” you manage between giggles. “i’m fine.”

“you sure?” he’s still frowning, hands bracing your cheeks now, eyes scanning your expression for any sign of damage. “fuck, i was just tryin’ to smack that perfect ass and i—dammit."

he cups your face gently, inspecting you like a worried dad. “you’re not bleedin’, right? fucking hell, woman. thought i scrambled your brain.”

you’re still giggling when he wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing soft, apologetic kisses to your temple.

“i was just tryna smack your ass,” he mumbles, nose buried in your hair.

“you missed.”

“yeah, thanks, i noticed,” he clutches you like you’re made of glass, one hand gently rubbing where he hit you. “i’m gonna sue myself. this is abuse. i’m the problem.”

you wheeze. “i think i saw stars.”

“don’t joke right now,” he deadpans, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, still cradling it like you’re his fragile little egg.

“i’m never touchin’ your ass again.”

you snort. “don’t lie to me.”

“…yeah, okay. maybe in like ten minutes.”

he mutters something about “next time i’m aiming lower.”

but he still pulls you into his lap on the kitchen floor and kisses the crown of your head, like he’s trying to make it better.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧