HELP OMG

katsuki with a mean girlfriend.. smut

katsuki swears the universe gave him the meanest, brattiest damn girl alive.

always angry. always quick to bite back. always faster than him with a sharper insult that even he wouldn’t dare cross.

you’re rough around the edges, sharp-tongued and demanding — barking orders at him like he’s some underling. do this, fix that, not like that, idiot. and if it’s not perfect, you're pouting, arms crossed, throwing the dirtiest, most lethal glares at him that leave him seeing red — not with anger, but with something worse.

because fuck, he's so pussywhipped he can't even think straight when you get like that. that scowl, the cruel curl of your lips when you talk down to him... it’s a migraine and a goddamn turn-on all rolled into one.

but this — this right here —

when he’s got you spread out bare for him, your thick thighs trembling under the squeeze of his palm, ankles hiked up to your ears, caged in a brutal mating press —

this is when katsuki wins.

when your sopping cunt clutches at him, sweet and wet and so needy, when all that sharpness bleeds out of you and leaves something soft, pliant, and his.

the change is fucking addictive.

that bratty mouth, the one that usually cuts him down in two seconds flat, now only spills high, broken whimpers, breathless gasps, words slurring together into sweet, incoherent babbling.

“ngh, k-katsuki—! f-fuck—!”

voice wrecked, desperate, so pretty when you try to snap at him and only end up whining.

“yeah? thought you had somethin’ to say, princess,” he growls, slamming his hips forward, skin smacking against skin, forcing another pathetic little moan out of you.

your fingernails dig into his shoulders, your glare watery and useless now, any fight you thought you had long pounded out of you.

he knows he's in charge.

knows your voice holds no bark, no bite, nothing but soft broken pleas when he's fucking you this deep into the mattress.

the only time you're really his — the only time you’re sweet —

and katsuki plans to drag it out for as long as he fucking can.

masterlist link here.

taglist: @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation @van9lla @dienamiight @sk1ppy-art @ni-aaaaaaa @kelisewrites @chosostonguepiercing @izzymff @swuzzin @aryuunachigiri @badslittlemuffin @yuhkai @candiiee @ugh-ellie69 @khloefrlsss @camydoesstuff @11thlife02 @alixezae @diamondocean001 @izycarrot7 @vivitg @cupkiki @wonubby @1explosionextinguisher @lotusstarr @tatumsscream96

Bakugo x y/n

Do you like this ship?

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧Masterlist.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

Boku No Hero Academia

↓

Katsuki Bakugou💥💣

❊ Addict in full bloom

↳ Bakugou has sex for the first time and can’t stop fucking you.

❊ The Secretary

↳ You become the explosive pro hero’s secretary and your world turns upside down.

❊ Cigarettes during sex

↳ Bakugou smokes one while you ride him.

❊ Roses can wait

↳ You answer a phone call while bakugou is going down on you. he clearly didn’t like that and now you’ll have to pay for it.

❊ Heart of marigolds

↳ You wake up from a nightmare and bakugou comforts you.

❊ Too tall? not for me.

↳ you’re extremely insecure about your tall height but bakugou shows you how beautiful you are.

❊ Rush of petals

↳ Bakugou can’t help but give you a little love before he goes to work.

❊ Tipsy Touches and Tangled Vines

↳ After a night out, all you want is to get your overly confident, slightly tipsy pro hero boyfriend to bed. But Bakugou has other ideas.

❊ You’re my favorite flower

↳ In a world where you don’t feel special- Bakugou reminds you just how special you truly are in his eyes.

——

Izuku Midoriya🥦📚

❀ Bad friend

↳ you fuck your best friends crush and Izuku shames you the entire time for it.

❀ Wilt for me

↳ Izuku completely unfolds beneath you but tries his best not to show it.

❀ Rainfall and ruin

↳ You pushed Izuku to his breaking point.

More coming soon…

katsuki’s second masterlist ♡ !

lil blurbs ! ( i'm just talkin') :

katsuki and mushy texts

katsuki really likes the way you smell, again!

lil fics ! ( i ramble a little longer) :

can't sleep love (or the one where your best friend katsuki is very pretty, obviously, and your long term crush on him isn't helping)

share my world (or the one where your boyfriend has a strange little habit he refuses to explain)

longer fics / mini series and events ! ( get comfy 'cuz this one's a multi-parter !) :

hey a second masterlist !! we've come so far, it almost makes me emotional >_< !!

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 ! ]✧˚₊‧

Explosions in the Rain - K. Bakugo

When you were four years old, you were physically Katsuki Bakugo’s greatest pain in the ass.

Your Quirk was Precipitation, which allowed you to control and manipulate water, but specifically water from the atmosphere or the air around you, such as the rain. For as long as you could remember, whenever Bakugo created those annoyingly loud and intrusive explosions of his, you would also gather the water particles in the air around you and drop water at his hands to stop the explosion. You effortlessly pissed him off to no end, especially when you would always stop him from bullying Izuku.

He hated it; how you got so used to stopping him from creating his explosions to the point where you could even predict when, where, and how he was going to use them. You read him like a book, and he despised it. He despised how well you knew him, despised how perceptive you were despite only being four and the same age as him, and despised how you made him feel weak.

When you were twelve years old, you were mentally Bakugo’s greatest pain in the ass.

It’s already been established for the past eight years that you had grown completely and utterly familiar with Bakugo and his Quirk. But twelve was a difficult age for everyone; most people were entering puberty, it was the time of inexperienced preteens doing things that they will regret later in life, and most people began to understand their crushes.

Bakugo wasn’t most people. When his heart raced whenever you spoke or bickered with him, he assumed that he was just getting adrenaline from “winning” the argument (he usually always lost in the end). Whenever his face reddened when you accidentally brushed his hand or touched him, he just assumed that he was angry. Whenever you defended Izuku from Bakugo, he always assumed that he was pissed because of the sole fact that you were defending Deku of all people.

When you were sixteen years old, you were supposedly Bakugo’s greatest pain in the ass.

You were both first years at UA, and despite your constant arguing, name calling, and childlike behavior with each other, everyone always assumed at first meeting that you were both dating but just had particularly strange ways of showing affection. They had even spread rumors that you were both dating--although you were both used to it, as the same thing used to happen in middle school.

You both denied those rumors, although deep inside of Bakugo’s heart, he did want those rumors to be true. However, even with the knowledge from the both of you that the rumors were false, most people still assumed that you were both in love. After all, you both always looked for each other during a villain attack and stuck to each other’s side. No one will ever forget just how fragmented your mental state was when Bakugo was kidnapped by the League of Villains, and how you cried when you and a few others managed to get him back.

When you were seventeen, Bakugo realized that you were never his greatest pain in the ass, but his greatest soft spot and weakness.

How absolutely heartwrenching your scream was when he basically died. How he felt his soul leave his body when you saw you bloody and unconscious. How he held you close when the war ended and you both narrowly survived.

And finally, finally, he realized that all this time, he never despised the feelings you gave him. He adored it, and he began to relish in it. The red on his cheeks and how you held his heart in your hands and never once dropped it. How he loved you.

When you were twenty-two years old, you truly became Bakugo’s greatest weakness.

Or perhaps we should change how we address him to Katsuki, as Bakugo is now also your last name.

The cold golden ring against your finger was a small yet impactful sensation, enough to make you tear up. You’ve always dreamed of this day, of getting married to the one you loved most. And standing right in front of you at the altar was your dearest Katsuki, who you refused to allow to wear makeup to cover up his scars. “Today, we are here to celebrate the knot of two wonderful young souls…” the priest began.

As the priest finished his long speech, Katsuki leaned in, and right before he kissed you, he muttered something. “You know, growing up, you were my biggest pain in the ass.”

“Same with you.” You murmured, chuckling breathily. His eyes softened before cupping your cheek with a calloused hand.

“I’ll love growing old with you just as much as I did growing up with you. I love you.”

He kissed you after those words, and finally, you eternally became Katsuki’s greatest weakness.

This was made on a whim, and this is also my first time ever writing for MHA…do tell me what you think of this lmao

you’ve been locked in a tower for years.

and yet, the moment you spot the man climbing up the side of the tower, your first thought isn’t what the hell is he doing here or how do I stop him or is he some thief trying to rob me.

it’s more like: is this what freedom feels like?

you sit there, watching as the man makes his way up, all confident and smug, like he owns the world. something about his cocky grin makes your chest tighten. he’s definitely not a normal person.

he finally reaches the top, and your hands tighten around the edge of the window as he peeks his head over the ledge.

“oh, great,” he mutters, brushing his hair out of his face. “another damn tower.”

you blink. “who are you?”

he looks at you like you’re the one who just asked a stupid question. “the name’s katsuki. who the hell are you?”

your jaw drops slightly. “you climbed up here—without permission?”

“yeah. what of it?”

you stand up, grabbing the frying pan you keep tucked away (you’re not stupid, you know how to defend yourself). “i’m gonna have to knock you out if you try anything funny.”

he raises an eyebrow. “do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

“do you know how ridiculous you sound climbing into someone’s tower?” you shoot back.

he shrugs, still standing there, like he couldn’t care less that he’s in someone’s home. “i wasn’t planning on being a good guy today.”

you narrow your eyes at him, gripping the frying pan tighter. “you should’ve thought of that before breaking into my home.”

katsuki glances around, seemingly trying to find something to occupy his attention. “i’m just trying to hide from some people. didn’t expect to find a princess up here.”

your eyebrows shoot up at the word princess. “i’m not a princess,” you snap. “i’m just trapped here.”

he quirks a grin at that. “sounds pretty princess-like to me.”

you sigh, turning your back on him and walking toward the corner. “whatever. just… stay out of my way.”

he snorts but doesn’t follow. instead, he walks around, casually inspecting the room with the disinterest of someone who’s seen it all.

you’re not sure why, but there’s something about him that feels different than all the other intruders who’ve come into your tower. there’s a confidence to him, yes, but also an edge—like he’s not afraid of anything, but he’s got something to hide.

—

after a little awkward silence, he finally speaks.

“what are you doing up here, anyway?”

you look up from your window, your hand absentmindedly tracing the long strands of your hair. “i paint. i… i always wanted to see the floating lights.”

“the what?”

“the floating lights,” you repeat, your voice soft. “they float up every year, the night of my birthday. no one ever told me why. but… i want to see them. one day.”

he glances at you, and for the first time, there’s a spark of something softer in his eyes. “and you’ve never been outside?”

you shake your head. “no. never. i’ve tried. but—” you pause, pulling your legs up to your chest. “i don’t know how to leave. i don’t know what to do.”

there’s a long silence, and you’re not sure if it’s pity or something else, but katsuki finally shrugs.

“how about i help you?”

you blink, stunned. “what?”

“i’ll take you to see these damn lights of yours,” he says, crossing his arms. “just one night. that’s it.”

your heart skips a beat. “you would do that?”

he smirks, his usual cocky grin returning. “you’re not the only one trapped here. i’ve got my own reasons for needing to disappear for a while. so let’s call it even. you don’t kill me, and i take you to the lights.”

you hesitate, your fingers twitching nervously. this is crazy. he’s a total stranger. but there’s something in his eyes… something that feels like trust. or maybe hope.

“okay,” you say, finally. “okay, let’s go.”

—

the day passes in a blur of frantic packing, hasty escapes, and the feeling that this is your first taste of freedom.

katsuki’s the one who leads the way, even if he grumbles under his breath about “getting out of this place before anyone finds us.” you follow him, every step feeling like you’re walking out of the only life you’ve ever known and into something else—something real.

you don’t notice the first time his gaze lingers a little too long. maybe it’s while you’re laughing at something stupid, sunlight hitting your cheeks just right. or when you’re brushing your hair back behind your ear as you look up at the sky. it’s fleeting—barely there—but his expression changes.

a small, teeny tiny smile. the kind you’d miss if you blinked.

he doesn’t say anything about it. he just walks a little closer beside you, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

—

the boat ride down the river is quiet. the lights above start to flicker, rising like stars stretching their wings.

you’re almost there.

you’ve never seen anything like it. the sky is full of floating lanterns, glowing softly in the night.

you sit at the bow of the boat, staring up at the lights with wide eyes. you could reach out and touch them if you wanted to. you could feel them.

“this is… this is amazing,” you whisper.

katsuki’s gaze is on you, not the sky. his lips quirk into that same soft, secret smile. “yeah. i guess it is.”

you look at him then, really look at him. and maybe it’s the lanterns, or the water, or how your heart is racing, but something feels different. like this moment matters.

“you’re not like anyone i’ve met.”

you smile back, breathless. “neither are you.”

you both sit there, eyes locked. the world feels too still. too quiet.

katsuki reaches out slowly, almost unsure, brushing your hand with his. when you don’t pull away, he links your fingers with his, gently. like it means something.

“hey,” he murmurs, barely loud enough to hear over the water.

you look up, lips parting.

“can i—” he leans in, slow, cautious, voice dropping lower—“kiss you?”

your answer is a breathless nod.

and then he’s kissing you, tender and slow and so incredibly soft you forget how to breathe.

it’s not rushed. it’s not wild. it’s careful.

like he’s memorizing every second of it.

his hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking just under your eye as he deepens the kiss a little. not too much. just enough to make your fingers tighten gently around his.

you pull back, lips still brushing, and his forehead rests against yours.

neither of you says anything.

you don’t need to.

the sky is full of the light you spent years praying to see up close.

but somehow, all you can focus on is him.

💚🧡💙

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.

You’re My Favorite Flower

Pro-Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x (Fem) Reader

——

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

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

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

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

And then… the comments.

——

@MtLadyMami25 :

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

@BakubroFan648:

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

@quirky_shins11 :

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

——

You lock your phone, eyes burning.

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

Why is your stomach softer than it should be?

Have your thighs always had that many stretch marks?

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

What do you even bring to the table?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You lower your gaze, ashamed.

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

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

He exhales hard, jaw clenching.

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

Your breath catches.

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

You blink fast, heart thudding.

“You wanna know why I love you?”

You nod, silently.

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

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

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

You tense. “Suki…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he does.

Over and over.

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

“You’re everything to me.”