💫 Stars Were Made For Falling

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

“i made this with ai” ok blocked

hiii my love! so, I had this sitting in my drafts forever from this post and wanted to share with you. :))

Katsuki Bakugo bends to no one — never has, never will. It's in his nature to be the one always in control of a situation and of himself. He's kissed plenty of girls as a twenty something hero, all of which fawned over his charm and killer body. It's easy, he thinks, to get them to submit without breaking a sweat. One shallow pick up line mixed with a backhanded compliment and well timed smirk was his go-to method. Worked like a charm every damn time.

But with you? Not a chance.

Bakugo found himself working a little more for your attention, much to his dismay. He was so conditioned to women falling to their knees for him that the second you put up any resistance, it royally pissed him off, more than he'd like to admit. Rescuing you from a collapsing building should've done the trick, quite literally sweeping you off your feet, but no — not good enough. He's entered into new territory that he’s unfamiliar with, tempting him to keep digging until you'd surrender to his ruse. He knows he can make you crack and then pull his signature disappearing act once he's truly satisfied, like always. Little did he know that he was playing your game and forfeiting his own.

He catches you weeks later at a nearby restaurant while he’s out with his team, and after another round of “c’mon sweetheart, one dinner won’t kill ya” bullshit, you give him a chance. One single dinner date for him to prove himself worthy of your time. Bakugo was more than determined to win you over not only for the sake of his pride, but something a little deeper that he didn't dare acknowledge.

His stomach cartwheels when he spots you in your sleek red dress outside the restaurant he picked, waiting patiently under the glow of the streetlights. His palms start to stain with sweat, shoving his hands in his pockets while greeting you at the doorway. And when you casually tell him that you wore red to match his eyes, his heart skips like a stone on water. The entire dinner, you keep saying shit that makes his body shiver, heart pounding so hard and booming in his ears that he can barely hear you at some points in the conversation. He couldn't understand what the hell was happening to him, how someone like you has him so transfixed for no reason.

When you insist on coming up to your apartment, Bakugo shrugs and follows you without a word, failing miserably to hide the way his cheeks warm at your invitation. The second the door locks behind him, you're placing your hands on his chest, pressing his back to it and invading his personal space. He gasps — actually gasps — in shock. He tries to cover it up with a growl of sorts, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"Relax baby," you whisper, standing on your toes to put your lips close to his ear. "You look like you're ready to bolt. Do other girls make you this nervous?"

"Fuck off," he grumbles before sighing nervously. "N-no. They don't." Why is he being honest right now? That's not something he would admit, especially on a 'first date.' Bakugo's fully convinced you're a witch or some kind of succubus, there's no other explanation how you're stirring such strong reactions from him.

And then...he feels your hand reach for the button on his jeans. It's embarrassing how the blood in his cheeks rushes south at lightening speed, his cock twitching to life faster than he's ever experienced. His hips shift, and fuck, he can feel the stickiness gathering in his boxers already. What the hell are you doing to him?

None of this goes unnoticed by you, a mischievous gleam reflecting in your eyes, an insatiable hunger that only turns him on more. Your finger hooks into one of the belt loops to pull him flush against you, another goddamn gasp escaping him.

"Oh," you purr approvingly. "This is gonna be fun."

anyways i love you byeeee!! <3

REEIIIIIII OMG. YAAAAS. THIS IS MY BIRTHDAY GIFT, THANK YOU I LOVEE YOU. 🌟🧡

the pageant (snippets!) — bakugo k.

bakugo k. x calm fem!reader│word count: 2.9k

synopsis: For their last school festival, Class B challenges Class A to join them in the pageant. With yn as their chosen representative, Bakugo was more than ready to make sure she wins.

cw/tags: fluff, established relationship

“Me?” yn asked, blinking slowly.

What was meant to be a relaxed evening of festival planning between Class A and Class B quickly turned competitive. 

Kendo had started telling stories about pageant preparations when Monoma, ever the instigator, had cut in with that infuriating smirk. “Funny how Class A’s never even tried the pageant. What’s the matter? No one pretty enough?”

And just like that, the gauntlet was thrown.

Mina, never one to back down from a challenge, had been the first to rise to the bait. Now she pointed excitedly at yn, who sat next to Bakugo, nursing a cup of tea, blissfully detached from the brewing storm.

“You’d be perfect,” Mina gushed. “You’re gorgeous, super chill, and you’ve got that ‘mysterious but approachable’ energy that pageant judges would totally eat up.”

“Are you all serious?” Bakugo spoke up. He had been quiet this whole time, clearly uninterested in whatever dumb rivalry Monoma was trying to stir up. “You’re really going to let this extra provoke—”

“Sure,” yn said simply, setting the cup down with a soft clink. “Could be fun.”

Bakugo turned to her. “What?”

She shrugged. “Why not? It’s our last year.”

Monoma’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?” He let out a theatrical laugh. “Well, if that’s your choice, I suppose there’s no harm.”

Bakugo stiffened.

“What’d you say?” he asked, his tone dangerously low.

But Monoma didn’t back down. “Just being realistic. You can’t expect someone like her to keep up with someone like Kendo.”

"MONOMA, YOU IDIOT—!" Kendo launched herself at her classmate, delivering a swift karate chop to his shoulder

But the damage was done. 

Something in Bakugo’s expression changed, a familiar fire igniting in his crimson eyes. He stood up slowly, cracking his knuckles.

“You’re on,” he said, voice firm. “We’re entering, babe. You’re winning that damn crown.”

Yn merely picked her tea back up, hiding a smile behind the rim of her cup. “Guess we’re doing this then.”

The next morning, Bakugo personally took charge, dragging everyone to the common room and barking orders.

“Alright, extras. Listen up! This ain’t a damn pageant. This is war, and we are not losing to those Class B losers!”

“Ooooh, Bakugo’s invested,” Mina beamed.

Bakugo ignored her comment and started pointing at everyone. “Racoon Eyes, Invisibitch—you’re on make-up! Shitty Hair, Flat Face—props! Ponytail, you’re with me on wardrobe! Dunce Face—you stay far away from anything important!”

“Rude!” Kaminari yelped, clearly offended.

Yn bumped her shoulder lightly against Bakugo’s. “You’re really into this, huh?”

Bakugo shoved her back with equal lightness. “Shut up. And get your ass moving too!”

Bakugo slammed three different fabric swatches onto the common room table, making the coffee cups rattle. “Charmeuse is the only option. Anything else is garbage.”

Momo frowned, holding up a shimmering sequin. “But this would catch the light beautifully—”

“IT LOOKS LIKE A DAMN DISCO BALL. NEXT.”

Yn yawned, resting her head on her arms. “I liked the disco ball idea.”

Bakugo flicked her forehead. “You’re not helping. And go to bed.”

Jiro strummed the final chord on her guitar, nodding as yn sang the chorus flawlessly. “Damn, you’ve got pipes.”

Yn huffed a laugh, reaching for her water bottle. “Only because you’re playing along. I’ve got nothing compared to you.”

Jiro set her guitar aside, uncrossing her legs. “Seriously, why don’t you sing for the live performances?”

A shrug. “I honestly didn’t know I could. Katsuki’s the one who mentioned it.”

Jiro’s eyes widened. “Wait. Bakugo pointed it out?” Then a slow grin spread across her face. “How’d that even come up?”

Yn blinked. “I, uh, hum sometimes. When we’re… napping.”

Jiro’s smirk turned lethal. “Oh my god. You lullaby him.”

“And… I regret telling you,” yn said with a sigh.

Jiro cackled, kicking her legs like an excited kid. “That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard.” She flipped over and grabbed her phone. “Mina’s gonna lose her mind!”

Yn lunged at her. “Hey, Jiro! No!”

Bakugo watched as yn took one more wobbly step in the strappy heels Momo had made before immediately grabbing him for support.

“Yeah… I don’t think I can do this,” she declared, shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”

“But they’re perfect!” Mina said. “Look at your legs!”

“Look at my ankles,” yn shot back, gripping Bakugo’s shoulders for dear life. “They’re about to snap.”

Bakugo slowly knelt down, his fingers gently undoing the straps. “Told you. Ditch the death traps.”

“But she looks so pretty in—” Uraraka protested.

“She’s wearing shorter heels. Just make ‘em pointed so she’d look taller,” he announced, tossing the heels aside.

“Hey!” Momo yelped as she caught them.

Monoma, disguised in a terrible wig, peeked into the stage where yn was practicing.

Kaminari spotted him instantly. “Uh, guys? We’ve got a spy.”

Bakugo didn’t even look up. “Flat Face.”

Sero grinned, happily taping Monoma up, while Shoji picked him up, ready to dump him in Class B’s dorm.

Yn waved as they passed her. “Tell Kendo I said good luck!”

Yn pushed open the common room door, blinking at the unexpected sight of Bakugo hunched over the sofa, papers in hand.

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, sitting in the space beside him.

Bakugo shifted slightly to make room without looking up. “Still rehearsing for the live show.”

“And… you’re not playing the drums?” yn asked, leaning back onto the couch.

“Tch. Already nailed my part,” he muttered, finally tossing the papers onto the coffee table and slumping back. “They’re just screwing around now.”

Yn hummed, letting the silence settle between them. The easy kind that only existed when it was just the two of them.

She inched closer, letting her head drop onto his shoulder. 

Bakugo didn’t hesitate. He leaned into the contact, his cheek brushing against her hair.

“Missed you,” he grumbled.

Yn laughed. “Katsuki, we share classes, a dorm, and now this pageant thing. I see you more than my own reflection.”

“With the extras,” he emphasized, nose wrinkling.

“Aww,” she cooed, playfully poking his side. “You wanted me all to yourself.”

Bakugo huffed, a flush creeping up his neck. “Shut up.”

Grinning, yn removed her slippers and curled up on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her as she looped an arm around his. “Well…” Her voice dropped to a whisper, heart thudding in her chest. “You’ve got me now.”

Bakugo turned, his gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips. “Yeah?”

Yn nodded, her smile soft. “I missed you too.”

Bakugo’s expression softened. His hand rose to cup her cheek, rough fingers gentle against her skin. When she leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering close for a second, Bakugo looked at her like she was the only thing in his world.

He tilted her chin up, slowly closing the space between them. Their eyes slipped shut, breaths mingling as their lips finally—

“Hey, Bakugo! We’re back!” Kirishima’s voice rang out, the door slamming open.

Bakugo groaned, jerking away. He slumped back against the couch, scowling at the ceiling in silent, dramatic defeat.

The notification buzzed against yn's palm as she lay curled in bed, the glow of her phone painting soft light across her face. She didn't need to look at the sender to know who it was.

Stop scrolling through your damn phone and sleep.

A quiet laugh escaped her as she typed back, How do you know I'm scrolling?

The reply came instantly. Because you replied immediately.

Yn smiled, adjusting against her pillows. Maybe I'm meditating.

Bullshit. You're looking at memes.

She glanced at the image still open on her screen—a cat wearing a tiny, lopsided crown—and sent it without hesitation. Okay, but this one's good.

Her phone lit up with his response, the letters practically vibrating with indignation even through text. THAT'S LITERALLY JUST A CAT.

A royal cat, she corrected.

Go. To. Bed.

Can't. Too busy manifesting my victory.

The next message contained a single image: an alarm clock set for 5 AM with the caption ‘WAKE YN UP.’

Meanie, she sent, already dreading the early hour.

You'll thank me when you're not yawning on stage tomorrow.

Yn sighed, knowing he was right but unwilling to admit it. Fine. But only because you're cute when you're bossy.

The bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared. Finally—

You'll kill it tomorrow. If anyone says anything bad about you, I’ll blow ‘em up.

Her breath caught, thumb hovering over the screen. She smiled and sent her response.

I know I will. But thanks, Katsuki. Love you.

GO TO SLEEP.

Yn chuckled, about to turn her phone face down on the nightstand when Bakugo sent another message.

Love you too.

Yn stepped onto the stage, quiet and composed, mic in hand. Her presence alone was enough to hush the crowd. She paused at the center, took a breath, and closed her eyes.

From the back of the crowd, Bakugo stood with his arms crossed, gaze fixed on her. Her face glowed on the giant screen behind her, casting her features in a soft, angelic glow. 

Then the music began.

She began to sway to the melody, and when the moment came, she opened her eyes. Her voice followed, gentle and warm, filling the space like sunlight. 

The crowd didn’t dare move. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like polite silence. But Bakugo knew better. They were captivated. Hooked.

He smirked, pride swelling in his chest. Atta girl.

The song swelled with sentiment, a delicate ballad that mirrored her soft delivery. But then, without warning, it began to rain.

Gasps echoed. A few umbrellas popped open in the audience. Bakugo’s entire body went tense, instinctively stepping forward, already half-ready to shield her.

But yn didn’t flinch.

Instead, she stepped into it, letting the droplets catch in her hair, cling to her skin, trailing down her cheek like tears.

She turned slightly, just enough to angle her body toward the light, the water shimmering like it was part of the act. Her voice never wavered, staying smooth and steady.

Bakugo blinked. Then, he saw it.

That small tilt of her head. That calculated pause in her breath. The barely-there smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

She was guiding the moment, twisting the sudden downpour to make her performance more dramatic. She pulled their hearts with gentle precision, painting herself as this fragile, ethereal heroine.

And they were eating it up.

Bakugo scoffed, grinning to himself.

He knew better though.

Underneath that calm exterior, yn was competitive as hell.

She just hid it better than most.

Like how she always walked just a little faster whenever Sato brought out fresh cookies, slipping through their rowdy classmates like it was nothing, but always managing to snag the first one.

Or how she’d lean back and smile during game nights, cool as ever, until someone beats her in Mario Kart. Then suddenly, she’d be sitting forward, knees tucked up, focus lazer-sharp.

He’d seen it in training too. She’d nod absently when given instructions, like she was barely paying attention. But the second someone started getting ahead of her, her punches got sharper, her footwork quicker.

And she never backed down.

Not even when Bakugo dared her to eat the spicy noodles he made just to mess with her. She’d just stare at him, eyes watering, and eat the whole damn bowl out of spite.

She just hated to lose.

And that was one of the first things he ever loved about her.

The crowd probably saw an angel.

But all he saw was her.

Then, mid-verse, she looked up.

Right at him.

The connection hit fast. Strong. Like she'd reached straight through the crowd and found him exactly where he stood.

The mic hovered close to her lips.

The next line was supposed to be a tender, heartfelt I love you. A perfect romantic finish, made to be sung.

But she didn’t sing it.

Instead, she spoke. Changing the words, uttering it so softly. Like a secret passed only to him.

“Thank you.”

The word whispered through the speakers, yet somehow it was louder than everything else.

The crowd melted.

But Bakugo didn’t move. He couldn’t.

His heart was pounding, loud and erratic in his ears, drowning out the cheers.

He never believed in soulmates or any of that mushy crap. That wasn’t them.

He and yn weren’t some fairytale couple. They were two stubborn, messy people who’d somehow figured out how to make it work. No sparks or fate—just time, effort, and a whole lot of understanding.

Their relationship wasn’t built on sweet words or perfect moments. It was built on them showing up. On backing each other up. On knowing when to push and when to just be there.

And right now, standing there soaked in rain, watching her express her gratitude so beautifully—Bakugo felt it. All of it.

Up there wasn’t just his girlfriend doing some cutesy stage performance.

That was his person. His partner.

The one person who called him out, kept him in check, pushed him to be better—but never once asked him to be someone he wasn’t.

And he didn’t know what the future looked like after graduation, or what kind of shit they’d face out in the world.

But he knew one thing for sure:

He wasn’t letting her go.

Yn barely had time to adjust her crooked crown before the Bakusquad descended like vultures, hungry for drama.

“OHHHH, LOOK WHO'S EATING HIS WORDS NOW—” Kaminari howled, slinging an arm around Monoma's stiff shoulders.

“Funny,” Sero mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I could've sworn someone said we ‘lacked elegance’—”

Monoma's eye twitched. “I believe I said refinement—”

“YET HERE WE ARE!” Mina spun in front of him with a dramatic flourish, gesturing toward yn’s glittering crown. “This queen just wiped the floor with you. In the rain, no less!”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Yn stepped forward with a sigh, trying—and failing—to hide the amused sparkle in her eyes. “We shouldn’t rub it in…”

She paused.

Then pulled out her phone, the screen already glowing. “...without proper documentation!”

The Bakusquad erupted.

“OHHHHHH!!!”

“SHE’S ARCHIVING THE SHAME!!!”

“SEND THAT TO THE CLASS CHAT!!!”

Bakugo, trailing just behind her, let out a bark of laughter. He leaned over her shoulder, fingers zooming in on Monoma’s scowl. “Hold still, Knockoff.”

Monoma looked ready to combust. “This is harassment!”

Kirishima, barely containing his own laughter, grinned widely. “Yn use the clown filter. For accuracy.”

Kendo, watching the chaos with amused resignation, shook her head. “You're all terrible.”

“We learned from the best,” yn replied sweetly, passing her phone to Kirishima and patting Monoma on the shoulder with mock sympathy. “Thanks for the inspiration. You’ve been great for morale.”

Kendo chuckled and stepped in, offering a hand. “Seriously, though. You were incredible.”

Yn’s smirk softened. She took Kendo’s hand, squeezing it. “Thanks. You were amazing too. Had me sweating for a second. You made the competition tough.”

Kendo grinned and pulled her into a quick, warm hug. “Coming from you? That means a lot.”

They parted with a shared look of respect before Kendo dragged a sputtering Monoma off by the collar, still mid-rant.

Then, finally, yn let the tension drain from her shoulders. She turned and collapsed into Bakugo’s side, face buried in his chest.

“Carry me,” she mumbled into his shirt, her voice muffled and sleepy.

Bakugo let out a low chuckle, wrapping an arm around her. “Yeah, yeah. I got you, princess.”

The stars were out. Quiet, for once.

Yn climbed the stairs slowly, her sweater sleeves pulled over her hands. She found him exactly where she expected—leaning against the railing, arms folded, gaze turned skyward.

“You avoiding the party?” she asked, voice light.

Bakugo didn’t look at her. “Tch. Too loud.”

She joined him at the railing, shoulder brushing his.

“I can’t celebrate my win without my coach, y’know,” she teased, glancing up at him.

That earned a small scoff. “You didn’t win ‘cause of me.”

“I didn’t win without you either,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond at first, just stared ahead, jaw tight. Then—

“You were amazing,” he said, almost grudgingly. “Stupidly amazing.”

Yn smiled. “You’re getting better at compliments.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, but his ears were definitely pink.

Silence followed, settling comfortably between them, soft and familiar.

“But I was a bit scared, you know,” yn admitted after a moment.

Bakugo snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. Could’ve fooled me.”

She bumped his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious, jerk.” Then, more quietly, her expression softened. “I kept looking for you.”

Something flickered in his eyes. The distance between them diminished.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice low.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

This time, when they leaned in, there was no hesitation. Her fingers curled into his hoodie, his fingers hovered near her jaw, and the rooftop felt quieter than it had all night.

Their noses brushed, lips just about to meet—

“Yo! There you guys are!”

Bakugo’s forehead fell to yn’s shoulder with a low, agonized groan.

“Shitty Hair,” he growled, not even turning around. “I swear to god—”

“I just came to tell you there’s cake!” Kirishima grinned from the door, completely unbothered. “But hey, don’t stop on my account—”

“Kirishima.”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving!”

He disappeared back down the stairs, laughing.

Yn pressed a hand to her mouth, giggling into her palm. “Next time then,” she whispered, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah… fuck that,” Bakugo muttered, before tugging her in by the waist. “C’mere.”

katsuki bakugou // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

if tides could speak (they'd call you home)

sleeping aid

cover shot (through the heart)

command me

pumpkin spice and everything nice

she's my wife

on my way (to you)

savvy

you wear them well

countdown

mamamatcher

you're the one that i haunt

backup

signal

you are the reason my heart is still beating

and you take me the way i am

organic chemistry

flower crown

safe haven

reinvention

a thousand petals for one unrequited love

𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

summary: in a land where marriage is set in stone at birth and love is but a myth, a girl tries her best to navigate the life she’s been born into. when her father assigns her own knight, somebody he trusts to look after her in these dangerous times, nobody would have expected the brave young soldier to twist her story with his, taking your life into a spin that was unforeseen by the fates.

pairing: bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: forbidden love, royalty au, strangers to friends to lovers, comfort, mild angst, fluff

warnings: mdni 18+, all characters are aged up, detailed sex, heavy making out, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, a little bit of a hand job, grinding, all the works lmao, mentions of depressive thoughts, nothing too explicit

notes: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

as always, thank you so much @jadeisthirsting for beta reading this and helping me throughout this fic!

mha masterlist

The bazaars of Afrasiab were unlike any other, and they dimmed in comparison to what the mind could imagine. All of the land in Persia held its animosity, a secret that can only be revealed by sight, but the bazaars there were something no tongue could describe and no ear to relay correctly.

They smelled of lamb and beef kabobs, cooked to perfection, began wafting around the carts of fabrics early in the morning. The mountains of spices were perfectly balanced in their own little plates, laying undisrupted until they caught the eye of curious passersby.

Many streets carried deep underground, for when the bazaar needed continuing and couldn’t be held entirely on top, and the hidden passages held wonders unknown to man.

Unfortunately, however, for somebody seeing these bustling markets for the first time, they tended to be confusing to figure out at the least, and nearly impossible to navigate most of the time.

The young woman who traveled closely with his cloak perched over her head tried to wind through the serpentine stalls, keeping his chin close to her chest as she only watched through the corners of her eyes, careful not to bring attention to herself nor the satchel in her hand. It was all so new to her, every sight she was intaking a far cry from what she was accustomed to seeing. The faint cries of the salesman trying to sell his silver tableware or the santur being played somewhere distant was an overload to somebody who was used to the strange serenity the palace offered.

Everything was a sight to behold. She never came to buy something, only to see. She liked the way this place almost had its own separate language, how it awoke at dawn and never seemed to sleep. She loved how the shopkeepers, always respectful of one another in their boundaries, tried their best to outdo one another in favor of better business.

The way someone shouted to gain the attention of somebody, the way they laced their words with enough enthusiasm to keep the shoppers interested was something she never grew tired of. In comparison to the bleak life that was awaiting her when she got back, these little bits of excitement were enough enrichment to keep her going for a little bit longer.

She took it all in, enjoying the opportunity as she doubted it’d be trusted upon her again, and smiled to herself at the mosaics that lined the curved walls, the dim light the candles offered helped her navigate through the underground bazaar. She looked through all the silverware, the plates painted with utmost care.

She looked through and let her fingers graze above the satin fabrics all dyed a different color. The smells of turmeric and saffron flooded her nose, mixing with the occasional whiff of rose, and she felt as though all these things at once were too compelling alone for a human mind.

No stories nor descriptions could have prepared her for what she was going to experience. It was magical, something surely out of a book. Despite that, however, every minute she spent trying to enjoy the sights was another minute that clicked in her mind mentally.

“Oi,” A gruff voice snapped, jolting her rudely out of her ongoing daydream, “Watch it.”

Keep reading

DREADED GIFT- Katsuki Bakugou

𖤐 word count: 3.3k

𖤐 synopsis: you felt the need to celebrate your boyfriend, baking a cake for him.

𖤐 warnings: explicit language, fluff, kissing, established relationship, sfw

Normally, you’d be excited to present the gift you’ve arranged for the person. But today was a completely different story. 

Today was April 20.

Katsuki Bakugou’s birthday.

Your boyfriends’s birthday.

The same guy who blew up last year's surprise party, claiming he didn’t do cheesy parties.  A week prior, he had made it clear he wouldn't want his 17th birthday to be celebrated. Nevertheless, you prepared a medium-sized box in black wrapping paper with orange explosions and an orange bow. 

You had been up since around three in the morning, following a recipe for a chocolate-flavoured cake to calculate the right amount of spice powder you needed for a mixed flavour. 

You looked through the cabinets and drawers, looking for a tablespoon that could be used to measure. As you turned around to continue the recipe, you bumped into the batter, causing a little to spill. 

You then grabbed a towel and started to clean the mess, forgetting about the spinning bowl of batter as it fell on your head. Great. You had full-on batter on your hair now. You started the recipe again, having no time to clean the mess on your head. 

About 10 minutes later, you placed the batter in the baking pan, reaching over to the oven, turning it on to 350. Glancing at your phone, it was already 5:29 a.m., so you had a little over an hour and a half to have the cake prepared. 

30 minutes later, you took the cake out of the oven, examining it carefully, trying to find anything wrong with it that you could fix immediately. Placing the pan gently on the counter, you ran over to the fridge and grabbed out the frosting, quickly mixing up the right colors and starting to decorate the cake.

Once satisfied with how you had decorated it, you placed the remaining tubes of frosting back into the fridge, turning back and admiring your work for a moment, suddenly interrupted by your best friend Jirou walking into the kitchen, still rubbing her eyes from sleep. The remaining sleep from her body immediately left when she noticed the mess you had on your head and around the kitchen.

“What are you doing up this early? Better yet, why does the kitchen look like a tornado passed by it?” She asked, walking around the kitchen before turning to you, “It’s Katsuki’s birthday today, and I wanted to make something for him, so here I am. I might as well disappear if he doesn’t even end up liking anything.” you glanced at Jirou, noticing her gaze of the cake.

She took the cake and carefully placed it in the fridge, shutting it closed. “It needs to cool down for a bit too,” she noticed your bummed out face before continuing, “I’m sure he’ll like it, Its Bakugou we’re talking about. You can make a disgusting meal, and he would still eat it if he knew it was you who made it.” 

You simply nodded at her words, hoping it would go like that when the time came to go to his dorm and wish him a happy birthday. “Well, tell me, does this gift look decent enough?” You raised the box so Jirou could examine it. Watching her every expression, before she turned to you. “And what’s in the box?” Her question made you smile.

“It’s a present, why would I tell you what’s in it? Besides, I’d rather give it to him first instead of telling you.” She smiled at you, “Fair enough, well, I’m going to eat breakfast. Do you need help cleaning up your mess? You nodded, grabbing the broom and mop to clean the floor while she cleaned the counter and stored the flour and sugar that you had forgotten to put away.

When you both finished, the kitchen looked cleaner. You let out a sigh as you thanked her, checking the time again, you walked over to the fridge and opened it, taking out the cake. “I’m going to start heading up there.” You said, earning a simple nod in response.

Without another word being exchanged, you grabbed hold of the cake in one hand and the gift in your other. As you walked up the stairs, you felt the stickiness of the batter that had fallen on you earlier still on your head. It was too late now to fix it. You clicked on the button and waited for the elevator and waited for the doors to open.

You stepped inside and pressed on ‘floor 4’, where his dorm was. When the doors opened again, you stepped out and started making your way towards his dorm, the nerves beginning to get to you. What if he hated the cake you made, or if he dismissed your effort and called it stupid? 

There were so many things that could go wrong in this moment, but you were willing to take the risk if it meant it would make is day a little better. As you stepped towards his room and stood in front of it, your hand reached for the handle, but immediately stopped when you heard familiar voices already inside.

The friend group had already beaten you to it. The mixed yells with quiet remarks could be heard. You didn’t want to just burst in with the way you were looking, especially with the things you had planned to tell him privately. You’d simply have to do it later at a better time. 

From inside his room, Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Kamanari, and Izuku could be heard. It was obvious that they planned to celebrate his birthday with a party.

“We have a whole day planned out already!” 

“Sato even agreed to make the cake for later! C’mon, man!” 

“If you idiots think I'm going to join your ridiculous party, think again.” You immediately recognized who it was just from the tone in their voice. You let out a sigh as you glanced at the door, then at the cake and gift in your hands.

He’d be fine.

Without a second thought, you turned around and made your way to your dorm, unlocking the door and disappearing into your room. A few hours passed, and it was a little past 9 a.m. The birthday cake sat on your desk, beside it the wrapped box, having been forgotten and erased from your mind in that moment.

He was asking where you were. Your heart skipped a beat at the notification, almost immediately stopping what you were doing and thought for a moment before typing a quick response back, shutting off your phone after sending the message.

Just as you placed your phone down on your bedside table, you heard a notification immediately after. Reaching out, you unlocked it and simply stared at the message.

Sighly softly, you stood up from your bed, glancing at the cake and gift from your attempt earlier. You grabbed the cake and box once again in each hand, your phone tucked in your waistband as you opened the door and walked out, closing it slowly behind you. 

As you made your way to his dorm, you mentally prepared for you to be greeted with his annoyed expression, you could already make out what he’d say the second he noticed what you had in your hands. He probably won’t even bother to acknowledge it. 

Standing in front of his dorm, you stared for a moment before you softly knocked on the wooden door, bracing yourself for the conversation that would come next. Hearing the soft click of someone opening the door, you glanced up to meet his crimson eyes.

“Why didn’t you come by thi–”

“Happy Birthday Kats,”  you muttered, cutting off his rambling before continuing, "I know you don't like your birthday getting celebrated and all that stuff, but I wanted to do something nice for you, but you don’t necessarily have to like it.”

As you waited for his response, you noticed the way his eyes glanced at your extended hands holding the cake, and you lit up the candles that had the number ‘17’ stamped on, along with the following words: ‘Happy Birthday Katsuki!’. Hearing a ‘tch’ escape his lips made you nervous, knowing it was a habit he’d do when annoyed. Hoping that wasn’t the case.

“You did all this for me? You know I don’t–” he sighed, pinching his nose, about to say something, but something changed in him when he noticed your happy expression, your lips curled into a soft smile. He’d hate himself if he ever said anything that didn’t satisfy your mood.

He looked away and thought for a moment before turning back to you. “I– What I’m trying to say is… I don’t mind it. All this bullshit crap you made for my birthday, I don’t mind it, as long as it comes from you. Alright? So don’t get any silly ideas in the pretty head of yours that I’m gonna yell your ear off for no reason. At least not today.”

You noticed the boy's face immediately heated up slightly after the small confession, trying to brush it off by looking away. You continued to smile as you softly spoke, “Do you want me to sing Happy Birthday?” you asked, holding out the cake, interrupted by a snort. “I don’t need your singing to damage my ears.”

The boy simply smirked as your smile fell into a pout, looking at him annoyingly, “Just make your wish and blow out the candles.” Without another word, he thought for a moment before blowing them out, the soft smell of smoke filling your nose. You simply pushed past him and placed the cake on his desk.

You walked back out and grabbed the box, extending it out to him. Noticing he was about to protest, you stopped him. “Just take it, there's no point in arguing with me.” Your fingers slightly brushed with each other as he took the box out of your hands, looking at the wrapping for a moment before he started opening it.

His eyes widened when he realized what it was. A photo album decorated on the outside with stickers and colored wording is visible. When opening it, he noticed the many photos of both of you, mostly just of the dates and small hangouts you both have done when you were still friends and dating.

“Do you like it? There’s still a lot of empty pages to put future memories.” You asked, glancing up at him, noticing his eyes focused on the album in front of him. He simply nodded, “I like it, there’s thought that was put into it, and I know you worked hard on it. You didn’t need to do any of this y’know.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, knowing these were some of the only times he’d be sincere. “It’s my favourite boy's birthday, of course I was going to do something for it, silly. Try the cake, I want to know if it tastes good or if I'm poisoning you.”

He let out a huff, rolling his eyes as he glanced at the cake sitting on his desk. “You sure it’s not all just sugar? You’re going to give me a sugar rush with all this.” His fingers dug into the sugary pastry as he grabbed a piece and popped it in his mouth. You analyzed his expression like a mad scientist, hoping you wouldn’t poison the poor boy with your newly learned baking skills.

“Kats, say something, does it taste bad? Does it hurt to chew? You can spit it out if it doe–” 

“Nah, this is the best cake I’ve ever tasted. You can taste the spiciness, but also not too much that you can't taste the chocolate. You nailed the recipe, this shit probably better than what they sell at stores.” You listened to every word he said, feeling somewhat accomplished that Katsuki liked your cake, hell, maybe even loved. “Well, I’m glad you liked it, I’ve been up since three in the morning trying to make it–” He cut you off as he glanced at your scalp, “Is that why there's batter on your head? Don’t tell me your stupidass dumped it on yourself.”

You let out a laugh, smiling at him, “It was an accident, but it’s fine, I'll shower later and it’ll come off.” Glancing at him, you sighed, “We should start heading downstairs–” He looked at you, confused. “The fuck are we going downstairs for?” You pointed towards the door as you spoke.

“Well, y’know the party they’re throwing for your birthday, aren’t you going to go?” The ash blonde immediately shook his head, letting out a sigh, and he placed the photo album on his desk. “Nah, rather spend it with you, cuddling or whatever.” You looked at him annoyingly, “Katsuki, they took time out of their day to organize that– hey!”

You were rudely interrupted by him picking you up and throwing you on the bed with him, pulling you closer by the waist as the boy shoved his face into your neck, taking in your comforting scent with a soft sigh.

“It’s not my damn problem, there faults for even thinking I’d enjoy a stupid party.” You gave up trying to convince him to go, snuggling closer to him as he intertwined his legs with yours, having you completely hooked onto the bed with him.

“Hey, look at me.” You glanced at him, wondering what it was he wanted, but it was immediately answered when he took your face and pressed his chapped lips against yours, kissing you. As expected, you melted into the kiss and pulled away a while after, the feeling of his lips kissing your entire face as he spoke. “Mh, love you, idiot.”

One thing is for sure, he wouldn't be letting you go from his grasp any time soon.

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who woke up in the hospital after a tough battle, only to realize he had lost his hearing. Fueled by overwhelming anger, he went on a rampage, demolishing his hospital room. The doctors had to step in, applying calming drugs to try and bring down his intense emotions.

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who, upon being discharged, adamantly declined any assistance offered to him by you at home.

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who fell silent and staunchly refused to communicate with you or others in any way.

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who struggled immensely to come to terms with the significant change in his life, frequently shedding tears during the silent depths of the night while you slept.

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who quickly learned sign language with remarkable speed

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who found warmth in his heart upon discovering you had learned sign language to communicate with him. He deeply appreciated this gesture.

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who realized that despite losing his ability to hear you and the world around him, he continued to fall more and more in love with you and all the little things.

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who regrets the most that he won't hear your child calling him "daddy" ever again.

Deaf prohero!Bakugo, who melted on the spot when your child ran to him one day, climbed onto his lap, and signed, "I love you, dad." Before he could control himself, a few tears rolled down his cheek — the first tears in his life he wasn't ashamed of.

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 』

𝜗𝜚 bakugou katsuki | random texts

❕sfw + nsfw, fluff, swear.

— this is my first texted submission and uhm so i hope it was okay. also if i could write katsuki in his character please tell me and i can continue.

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• your boyfie suki <33

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© itoshhi 2025 {do not copy, translate, steal, modify without permission.}