##/ There Goes My Baby; Katsuki Bakugou

how studio bones draws katsuki:

how 𝒽ℴ𝓇𝒾𝓀ℴ𝓈𝒽𝒾 (<3) draws katsuki:

angst has a special place in my heart

Hii!! May I request an angst to fluff? But if you don't take angst request pls feel free to ignore this!! So Katsuki and fem reader who dated for half a year between almost end of first year then half of their scond year but then Katsuki breaks up with reader cuz she was a 'distraction' and of course left her heart broken. And then on third years, in the middle of their semester, he then realizes he still loves reader and like tries to reconcile with her. Idk what else to add so I'm just leaving the rest to you!! Love your works btw they're so good!!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Still yours .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. angst to fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

☘︎ . . . requested? yes by anon

⤿ Bakugou broke your heart. He came back. You made him earn it. He did.

1st Year, End of Semester

You and Katsuki Bakugou were never loud about your relationship.

He wasn’t the type to hold hands in public or shout about how much he loved you. But in the quieter moments in between training and studying he’d slip you his hoodie, walk you to your dorm without a word, or rest his forehead against yours after a long day.

It started in the last stretch of your first year, grew steadier into second year. Six months of something real. Something gentle despite him being the most explosive person you knew.

But it ended with a bang.

2nd Year, Halfway Through

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You stood in the training room, the air cold, his words colder.

You blinked. “What?”

Bakugou’s hands were clenched. His jaw was tight.

“You’re a distraction,” he muttered. “I need to focus on becoming the best. I can’t afford to waste time… worrying about you all the time.”

You stepped back like you’d been hit. “So I’m a waste of time now?”

“That’s not what I—” he paused, growling. “I just—this is what’s best.”

For who?

You didn’t cry then. Not in front of him. You just nodded, whispered “Okay,” and walked away. You didn’t see the way his eyes followed you until the door shut behind you.

3rd Year – Mid-Semester

You weren’t the same girl from a year ago.

You smiled less, laughed with your friends more, focused harder on your studies. You’d built walls around your heart high and unbreakable.

Bakugou had noticed.

From across the classroom, during missions, in the dorms. He saw how you no longer looked his way, how your smile didn’t pause for him, how you didn’t flinch when his name came up in conversation.

You’d moved on or at least, that’s what it looked like.

But him?

He was stuck.

Stuck in the memory of you smiling in his hoodie. Of how you cheered him on after training. Of how you looked at him like he was already the best, even before he believed it himself.

He had pushed you away for his dream, only to realize… you were part of it.

One Night After Training

He found you alone by the vending machines. Hair still damp from your shower. Hoodie zipped up to your chin.

He swallowed. “Hey.”

You glanced at him. “Hey.”

God, it was like you didn’t even see him anymore.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. “I’ve been… thinkin’.”

“About?”

“You. Me.” His voice dropped. “Us.”

You froze.

He rubbed the back of his neck, frustration creeping in. “I was a damn idiot. Thought cutting you off would help me focus. But all it did was make everything harder.”

You didn’t speak.

“I miss you,” he whispered. “All the time. Every day.”

Still, silence.

His heart thundered in his chest. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. Hell, I wouldn’t if I were you. But… I just needed you to know that I’m sorry.”

Your voice was soft. “You really broke me, Katsuki.”

He flinched. “I know.”

“I thought I wasn’t enough. That I was holding you back.”

He stepped closer. “You were never the thing holdin’ me back. You were the thing keeping me grounded.”

You looked up at him, eyes full of pain he wished he could erase.

“Why now?” you asked.

He exhaled. “Because it took me losing you to realize I don’t want a future where you’re not in it.”

You stood there, heart aching with all the love you’d buried. He wasn’t asking for much. Just a chance. A beginning.

“I’m not saying it’s easy,” you murmured. “But I still… I still love you, Katsuki.”

His breath caught. “Yeah?”

You gave a small nod.

He hesitated, then reached out slowly, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.

“Then let me make it right,” he said. “Day by day.”

And this time, you didn’t let go.

Bakugou didn’t win you back with flowers or grand gestures. He showed up every day.

He trained with you, walked you home again, left you little notes before exams. He asked about your day and actually listened. He never interrupted. Never raised his voice at you, not once.

He remembered things you didn’t think he would your favorite drink, the way you hated thunderstorms, the way you liked your rice crispy instead of soft.

He gave you space, but never made you feel alone.

He didn’t rush your heart back to him.

He waited for it.

And slowly, it came back.

Not all at once but gently, like the kind of love you had at the very beginning.

© jxwl4k 2025

your.. not wrong??

i have the urge to eat straight instant ramyun powder

Hi Neema! Can I request please, Katsuki being his usual brash rude and loud self around others, but behind closed doors he becomes Luke a puppy around reader when the have sex and she treats him very sweetly and praises him a lot and he just melts around her. I have a feel in because of his family dynamic he didn’t get much earnest praise and folds like a chair for it.

Melt for Me

You barely have time to take your boots off before Bakugo starts barking.

“Dumbass, you’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep throwing yourself into fights like that,” he growls, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. The front door slams behind him, his heavy boots thudding against the floor as he tosses his gauntlets onto the couch. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You sigh, already used to his dramatics. “I had it under control.”

“Like hell you did,” he snaps, stepping in front of you, his crimson eyes burning with frustration. “If I wasn’t there, you would’ve been fucking toast! You don’t have to do everything by yourself, dumbass!”

You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you. “Oh, so I’m a dumbass now?”

“You’ve always been a dumbass!”

He’s so loud, so worked up, pacing the small space between the couch and the kitchen like he’s too wound up to stay still. His hands clench and unclench, the lingering adrenaline from the mission still pumping through his veins.

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe, watching him huff and mutter under his breath. He’s always like this after a tough fight—angry, fuming, spitting insults like a feral animal. He keeps his walls up high, tough and unbreakable, never letting anyone see past the rough exterior.

Except for you.

You push off the doorframe and step into his space, placing your palm flat against his chest.

“Katsuki.”

His whole body tenses.

Your voice is gentle, nothing like the sharp edge of his. It’s enough to make his breath hitch, his anger stuttering mid-sentence. He looks down at you, his jaw still tight, but his eyes flicker with something softer.

You smile. “You worried about me?”

His lips part slightly, like he wants to snap back, but he doesn’t. His hands twitch at his sides, itching to grab you, to pull you in, but he hesitates.

“Tch.” He turns his head, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “Shut up.”

You giggle, sliding your hands up to cup his face. His breath catches in his throat. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his muscles stay tense under your touch.

“You did really well today,” you murmur, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones.

His hands tighten into fists. His mouth opens, then closes again, his brows knitting together.

“Katsuki,” you continue, “you protected everyone.” You press a soft kiss to his jaw. “You kept me safe.” Another kiss. “You’re so strong.” Another. “So amazing.”

His breath shudders out of him, his body deflating just a little. He grips your hips, but it’s not possessive or rough—it’s almost hesitant, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

“You really think so?” His voice is quiet now, hesitant in a way that’s so unlike him.

You pull back just enough to look into his eyes. “I know so.”

And just like that, he folds.

The mighty, loud, brash Bakugo Katsuki is gone, replaced by the man who melts at the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch. His forehead drops to your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist as if shielding himself from the world.

“I—” His breath is warm against your skin. “Fuck, baby.”

You guide him toward the bedroom, fingers threading through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He shivers. By the time you reach the bed, the fight in him has completely drained away.

He sits at the edge, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes, his hands gripping your waist like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. You straddle his lap, and his breath hitches, his fingers pressing into your sides.

“You like it when I praise you, don’t you, Katsuki?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. He nods slightly, but it’s not enough.

“Use your words.”

His grip tightens. “Y-yeah,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “I—fuck, I love it.”

You smile, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. He chases after you, desperate for more, hands roaming up your back like he needs to feel every inch of you.

“Good boy.”

The sound he makes is downright sinful. A shaky exhale leaves his lips as he buries his face in your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin.

You giggle, fingers sliding into his hair, tugging lightly. He groans, hips jerking up involuntarily.

“So desperate,” you tease, scratching lightly at his scalp. “Such a needy thing, aren’t you?”

His nails dig into your waist. “Shut up,” he mumbles against your skin, but there’s no bite behind it. If anything, he sounds wrecked.

“Why should I? I like watching you fall apart like this.” You tilt his chin up, forcing him to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. “You’re so beautiful like this, Katsuki.”

His face burns, and he looks like he wants to protest, but you don’t give him the chance. You press your lips to his again, swallowing any argument he might’ve had.

His hands wander up your back, trembling slightly, and you can’t help but feel your heart ache for him. He’s always been so strong, so independent. But here, in your arms, he’s something else entirely.

He’s yours.

And you’ll make sure he knows it.

Horikoshi sketch for the Vigilante anime!

BECERTAINLUST - Ao3 SMUT MASTERLIST

𖥔CHARACTERS𖥔

My Hero Academia

Bakugo Katsuki 𖥔 TAPE IT | BIRTHDAY SUIT | INTENSE | UNDONE | POUND TOWN | FREAK YOU

Shoto Todoroki 𖥔 TEMPERATURE | PRETTY BOY~ | LOOK, ALL CLEAN

Shota Aizawa 𖥔 NEW TRICK

One Piece

Sanji Vinsmoke 𖥔 NEVER EVER LOSE ME

Roronoa Zoro 𖥔 PATIENCE | OPEN YOUR EYES

Trafalgar Law 𖥔 [Loading....]

Jujutsu Kaisen

Gojo Satoru- [Loading....]

Nanami Kento- [Loading....]

will bakugou choose seoul, korea or your wedding anniversary?

Bakugou had turned the damn house upside down three times.

“Where the hell is it?” He hissed under his breath, storming through the hallway closet for the third time in two days. He’d torn apart the shoe rack, the document folders, and even flipped through the cookbooks in the kitchen, just in case he’d used it as a bookmark. No dice. The damn passport was still missing.

His hair was sticking up more than usual—half from stress, half from the static of the hoodie he’d thrown on that morning in frustration. They were supposed to leave for Korea in three days. Three. It was the biggest pro-hero conference he’d ever been invited to—panel talks, interviews, awards. Best Jeanist, Lemillion, and even Halfie had their confirmations sent in already.

And what did he have?

An expired copy of his license (he got a new one; the expired one’s just in his drawer), a half-crushed protein bar, and a very pouty, very pregnant wife in the living room.

You had your feet up on the couch, ankles slightly swollen beneath the oversized hoodie you’d stolen from his wardrobe. You were scrolling on your phone with one hand, the other resting on your baby bump, lazily tracing circles. When Bakugou stomped past, you looked up with the slow blink of a cat.

“Still lost?” you asked, not bothering to hide your amusement. Even laughed under your breath.

The audacity, he thinks, though it wasn’t frustration. He could never be mad at you.

Because he knows you’ll get mad at him, too.

Bakugou didn’t answer. He grunted instead, pulling out another drawer in the cabinet near the TV.

“Maybe it grew legs and walked off,” you teased. “Or maybe your big fat ego swallowed it.”

He shot you a look. “Not helping.”

You hummed. “Not trying to.”

Your pout had gotten more dramatic since hitting six months. Bakugou noticed it more these days, how you’d stare down your food like it personally offended you, or how you’d sigh theatrically every time the topic of even him leaving the house came up. At first, you’d been supportive—even joked that you’d video call him during the conference and heckle him from the screen. But once you found out the biggest day of the event landed on your wedding anniversary, the whole game changed.

Suddenly he feels like he’s on house arrest.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” you murmured, taking a sip of the juice he made you this morning. “Maybe you’re meant to stay home this time.”

Bakugou scoffed. As if.

“Ain’t no damn sign. It’s just misplacin’ shit.”

“You don’t have to go,” you said again. “You could stay. Cuddle me. Eat cake. Listen to me cry about clouds.”

“You said I could go if I find my passport,” he pouts, brows furrowed, and his lips jutted slightly.

“I did, and don’t be mad,” you replied. “I want you to go. Really. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Then why do you look like you wanna punch me in the throat?”

You blinked at him. “Because it’s our anniversary and I’m hormonal. Sue me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So I hope you don’t find it.”

That was the end of that conversation.

-

The night before their anniversary came sooner than expected.

Bakugou had made a reservation at one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the city. Private booth, soft fairy lights, cityscape twinkling behind them. The host even laid a small bouquet of lavender on the table when he told them it was for a special occasion. He hadn’t told you where you were going, only grunted, “Wear that dress you like—that comfy one. You know the one.”

He hadn’t mentioned anything new about the passport ordeal. You, who figured he’d either given up or accepted fate, were mostly content to enjoy the evening.

You looked like a dream, so his focus was entirely on you. Someone who he somehow managed to have (maybe his bond with his guardian angels came in clutch and even contacted Cupid himself to arrange an arrow for you two).

You waddled into the restaurant, cheeks a little fuller, eyes glowing. He still looked at you like he couldn’t believe he got so lucky. He thinks it makes you shy, how intense his gaze got, even after everything—the morning sickness, the mood swings, the late-night hospital runs due to paranoia.

“You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your lower back as you walked in.

“Mm,” you hummed, leaning into his touch. You could barely hide your smile at this point. “You’re staring.”

He didn’t even deny it. “I am? So what? Can’t a man just appreciate his wife?”

Dinner went well, for the most part.

You had one hand on your belly, the other wrapped around his fingers on the table. You were halfway through your chocolate mousse when Bakugou reached into his jacket pocket and slid something across the table.

“No,” you said slowly, setting your spoon down. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

He didn’t look smug at all, more like... hopeful.

Your brows furrowed. You reached for the passport, flipping it open.

There it was. His damn passport. Found. Intact. Stamped. His most recent picture was taken only a few months ago.

Yoh stared at it. Then at you. Then back at it again.

“…You found it?”

“Yup.”

“Where was it?”

He cleared his throat, gaze shifting to the side.

“…Behind the dresser in the guest room. Stuffed in that red envelope labeled ‘Important Shit,’ which you labeled in your handwriting, by the way.”

You paused. Your cheeks puffed again as your lips turned downward in the softest pout he’d ever seen. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, spoon idle.

“You’re really gonna go?”

“I want to,” he admitted. “But I don’t wanna leave you pissed off and lonely, either.”

You didn’t say anything at first. Just poked at your mousse with your spoon. Your lashes were low, and he could tell you were struggling. Not angry, just…sad.

Finally, you said, “It’s just one. It’s just one anniversary. We’ll have dozens more, right?”

“We will. We’ll have centuries more.”

“…And you’ll video call me. Every day.”

“Morning and night.”

“And text me when you land. And when you eat. And when you leave the venue. And—”

Bakugou reached across the table and tugged gently at your hand. His hands are rough against yours, but they’re filled with sincerity and utmost love that a man could give to his wife.

“Hey.”

You looked up.

His voice softened.

“Seriously, d’ya think I’d leave you without a plan?”

You blinked.

“I’m leavin’ you flowers and your cake. I told Kirishima to drop off that spa basket thing you said you wanted last month. And your mom’s stayin’ over the night of. I made sure. I even stocked the fridge.”

Your mouth parted slightly, tilting your head to the side. “You…did all that?”

“Yeah.” He looked almost bashful now, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t want you to think I forgot. Even if I ain’t here physically. I’m still here.”

Your eyes shimmered just a bit. A good sign, Bakugou notes.

Then you smiled—soft and tired and affectionate.

“God, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Tch. Don’t cry. I’ll look like an asshole.”

You laughed then, nose crinkling. “You are an asshole. But a sweet one.”

“Yeah, you love me.”

“I do.”

You two didn’t talk about the passport again that night. Not after that.

Instead, you finished dessert. Slowly. Your hand stayed in his the whole time.

When you walked out of the restaurant, he kept his arm around your shoulders, guiding you carefully down the steps like you were made of glass. You leaned into him, soft and warm, your belly pressing into his side.

And when they got home, you told him, “Let’s open the anniversary cake early.”

He didn’t say no. Not when you looked that happy. It doesn’t matter that he’s already full from the chocolate mousse you two had earlier.

When night finally settled, and Bakugou’s wiping the excess frosting off the corners of your lips with a napkin, he hears you say, “Come home soon, okay?”

He nodded, then softly kissed the crown of your head.

“Always.”

Always come home to you.

-

The morning of Bakugou’s flight started earlier than usual.

He had been up before the alarm even went off, brushing his teeth with the kind of intensity that only came from years of military-grade discipline… or nerves (also because he wants all bad germs on his mouth to die). Not that he’d ever admit to the latter. He stood in front of the mirror, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling from the hot shower as he stared at his reflection.

This was it. The day he was supposed to fly out to Korea.

Except—he wasn’t going.

Not really.

He’d made his decision last night, somewhere between the weight of your hug and the feel of your heartbeat against his body when you fell asleep on his chest. The moment you started snoring softly, your nose slightly buried in his shirt, he realized there was no way in hell he was getting on that plane.

Not this time.

But you didn’t need to know that just yet.

Because if there was one thing Bakugou knew about his wife, it was that you’d throw a fit if he skipped a life-changing professional opportunity just to spend your anniversary folding baby laundry and rubbing your swollen ankles. Plus, he knew you’d never allow him to stay. And if you knew he was lying about leaving, you’d huff and puff until he actually made him go.

So, he planned ahead. Like a goddamn mastermind.

By the time you woke up—slightly groggy with pillow lines on your cheek—he had already “packed.” His suitcase was zipped shut and positioned neatly by the door. His travel duffle bag sat upright next to it. His travel documents were tucked inside an envelope labeled “Do Not Open Unless Emergency.” (Totally blank inside.)

You blinked at him sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you waddled into the living room in his oversized T-shirt. One of the many shirts he was sure was missing from his closet.

“You already packed?” you murmured, voice small and pouty.

He turned from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. Acting too nonchalant to not give anything away.

“Yeah,” he said. “Didn’t wanna rush.”

You crossed your arms over your bump. “It’s only a three-hour flight, Katsuki. Not an expedition to the Arctic.”

“Still gotta prep,” he said, biting back a grin.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, but the smell of something sweet distracted you. Bingo.

He stepped aside, revealing a neatly arranged dessert box sitting on the counter. Inside: four of your favorites—strawberry shortcake with extra whipped cream, a slice of creamy Basque burnt cheesecake, a generous portion of tiramisu, and your current obsession: mango sticky rice.

“You bought me desserts?” you awed.

“I bought you a stack,” he corrected. “Don’t think I don’t know you get all sad and start craving sugar when I leave.”

You scoffed. “I do not.”

“You do,” he said, crossing his arms smugly. “You pouted so hard last time I left, I came back to find the fridge empty and you passed out with a half-eaten ice cream tub on the couch.”

“That was one time!”

“And I’m not takin’ chances.”

He bent forward, pressed a kiss to your cheek, then to your rounded belly. “Eat well. Don’t lift anything heavy. Text me when you’re sleepy. I’ll land by lunch. Kirishima’s already on the way, but it’ll take a while because of traffic since the bridge is getting repaired.”

“You’re acting suspicious,” you said, frowning as you clung to his shirt. “You never say goodbye this… nicely.”

“That’s rude,” he muttered. “I’m always nice.”

“No, you’re normally grumpy and say something like, ‘Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.’”

He smirked. You weren’t wrong entirely.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna come back to find out you’ve cried over an empty dessert box.”

Your lip wobbled, and he kissed you again—softly this time, with an extra squeeze to your waist.

“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s just for two nights.”

-

He left around nine. Or at least, pretended to.

Instead of heading to the airport, he drove straight to his agency, parked in the underground garage, and holed up in his office. There was a bottle of juice in the mini fridge, emergency snacks in the bottom drawer, and an absurd number of congratulatory emails flooding his inbox that he ignored.

The hours ticked by slowly.

He checked his phone a dozen times. No calls. No texts. Just one blurry photo from you of the dessert box with the caption: You’re lucky I’m in a sugar coma right now. Or I’d be mad you left without triple kissing me goodbye.

He snorted.

Around lunchtime, he got restless. Then irritated.

Then, at exactly 1:00 P.M., he got in the car and drove home.

No warning.

No heads-up.

He half-expected you to be lounging in the living room, watching drama reruns and fanning yourself while complaining about heartburn. But when he pulled up the driveway and unlocked the front door—

The house was suspiciously quiet.

His brows pulled together.

“[Name]?” he called out, stepping in.

Nothing.

He frowned and shut the door behind him, stepping out of his boots. He heard a thud from the back hallway. Then a low grunt. A shuffle.

His eyes narrowed.

Then he heard you muttering.

“Come on, come on, I’m not that heavy—”

He rounded the corner—and stopped cold.

There you were.

Standing in the hallway. Sweaty. Red-faced. Holding a large box half your size with both hands, your bump barely giving you enough room to balance it. Your lip was caught between your teeth as you struggled to carry what was definitely one of the boxes he had explicitly labeled: Do Not Touch.

“…What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You screamed.

You literally screamed—jumping nearly out of your skin, eyes wide like you saw a ghost.

Or a burglar.

Or both, at this point.

“—Katsuki! I thought you were in Korea—what the hell—”

“Put the box down.”

“You can’t just walk in like that, I thought—I—”

“Put it down, [Name].”

You dropped it with a loud thunk, wobbling backward and grabbing your shoulders.

“Oh my god, I thought you were a home invader! I was ready to throw a candle at you—why are you back?!”

Bakugou marched toward you, still wide-eyed with a mixture of rage and pure panic. He can’t believe this at all. “More importantly, why the fuck are you lifting boxes?!”

“I was bored!”

“Bored? So you decided to tear a disc and pop a blood vessel?!”

“I didn’t tear anything! And it wasn’t heavy; it’s mostly baby blankets!”

He crouched down instantly to pick it up—still heavy, despite your excuses—and carried it to the nursery, grumbling the entire way. “Goddamn woman’s gonna give me a stroke,” he muttered, though there was never any heat in his words.

You waddled after him, still stunned.

“Wait. Why are you here?!”

“I never left.”

“You… what?”

“I stayed at the agency. Figured I’d come back after you thought I was gone. Catch you red-handed.”

“You liar!”

He turned toward you, his frustration subsiding.

“You’re not even a good liar! You went full fake goodbye mode this morning! You even left me mango sticky rice!”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I knew you’d snoop around and start being reckless the second you thought no one was watching.”

Your cheeks puffed up again. That damn pout.

“I was just nesting,” you mumbled.

“Nesting doesn’t involve deadlifting half a closet,” he shot back. “You promised you’d take it easy.”

“…I thought you were in Korea.”

“Yeah, well, again, surprise.”

You blinked up at him again, eyes soft now, overwhelmed. “…You really stayed just for me?”

When he sets the boxes down, he exhaled and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye. “You really thought I’d leave you alone on our anniversary? Pregnant? Carrying boxes? Eating dessert by yourself? What do you take me for? A shitty husband?”

You hit his chest weakly.

“You’re so unfair,” you muttered.

“I know,” he grinned. “And I love you.”

You melted then. Completely.

Wrapping your arms around him, your bump pressing into his stomach, you buried your face in his chest and whispered: “I love you too, you dramatic maniac.”

That night, there was no flight. No press. No conference.

Just takeout on the couch, your feet in his lap, mango sticky rice on your plate, and his hand splayed across your belly like a homecoming gift.

Bakugou may have missed a headline.

But he made the right choice.

And that mattered more.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

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

(｡>﹏<)

(Katsuki x insomniac!reader)

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

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

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

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

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

katsuki trying to help his insomniac partner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YESSSS

Reminder that yall's selfships are all canon

Like they're literally ur canon gf / wife

happy birthday, katsuki bakugo.

a/n ll birthday boy bakugo x g/n reader. fluff and not proofread!

“dear katsuki,” the ink of your pen pooled and smudged. whatever. this was the millionth try of the day anyway. you busied yourself, trying to write a happy birthday letter to the katsuki bakugo. pro hero dynamite. no. 15 hero. oh, did i mention he’s your lover?

lover boy! katsuki bakugo who is absolutely whipped for you, and you can’t tell me otherwise. it wasn’t about the grand gestures, but the small acts of love. cliche and overused? yes, but it’s true! he can’t help but poke and prod at you. it’s all light-hearted fun. but when he definitely knows when he’s going too far. you two are inseparable, quite literally soulmates. and of course, today is his birthday. the media flooded his time, but he knew he had to devote it to the one he loves the most. you, his reason to keep going.

lover boy! katsuki bakugo thinking of his last year in ua when you mustered the courage to confess to him. on his birthday of all days! “what?” he’d say.

“i like you, i really do! and uhm, happy birthday!” you blushed furiously, giving him a handmade charm bracelet with a poorly sculpted, disfigured version of him in his hero costume. you also created a poorly made sculpture of yourself to match. katsuki thought about how you looked so beautiful and cute, even as a clay figure. he would be lying through his teeth if he didn’t admit your beet-red face made his heart skip a beat. actually, that would be an understatement. even now, years later, with your long-term relationship, he’s been so accustomed to it. but he knows he has to be more than the “all bark no bite” person people make of him. of course, he’s aware he doesn’t have to prove anything to you, knowing you love him dearly. but. he wants to be the best person he can be. how foolish. you were supposed to be the one giving him a gift, but here he was, trying to something for you on his birthday. damnit, the things he would do for you.

lover boy! katsuki bakugo putting on his hero gear every morning, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear as he kisses you lovingly. to you, it was something he did every morning. to katsuki, it meant life and death. he would walk out the door, out of your loving touch that made him jolt. with no chance of returning home. no chance of life. no chance of seeing his mom and dad again. no chance of seeing you. so everytime he would see your sparkling eyes and pouting lips, he knew he couldn’t resist you, not even for a moment. god, how pathetic. you didn’t know, but he often cried thinking of your relationship. his thoughts would consume him. if he were to die, he would leave you all alone. and he knew it was selfish, but the thought of you being happy with someone else didn’t make him happy. it should’ve, knowing you would die peacefully. but the thought of you with someone else made his heart bitter. not the possessive-jealous type of bitter, but the bitterness that would eat at him daily. and of course, it’s not like he doesn’t voice his opinions. he completely trusts you. he just knows the risks of being a hero and what that meant for your relationship. 

lover boy! katsuki bakugo reluctantly at a “special” event held just for him. he reluctantly forced himself to go, knowing it was best for his career. but no matter the circumstances, he thought of you. his loving partner, his soulmate. he had to make sure you knew how much he loved you. of all times, he thought of you in great detail. the way the setting sun would hit the gentle silhouette of your face, illuminating it perfectly during your time spent together in the living room. your home. the home you two shared. the house you two bought together, knowing you would raise your family in it (if you want to have children, of course.) 

lover boy! katsuki bakugo returning home to find crumpled paper invading the wooden floor. he would’ve fallen flat if you didn’t catch him in time, his weight leaning into you as he stabilized himself, gripping your shoulders. he embraced you carefully. “woah birthday boy, you seem a lil desperate for attention. is everything alright?” you say. “no. jus’ missin’ you. that’s all.” he dug himself into the crook of your neck, his spiky blonde hair felt relaxed under your touch. “so, wassup with all of this?” katsuki asked, his embrace only tightening as he gestured to the paper. “oh, well, i tried writing you a heartfelt letter,” at this the blonde scoffed. “a damn letter? y’know i alreay know how much you love me.” at this you giggled and playfully hit him. “i just wanted to make sure you knew!” katsuki frowned. “then i have something to show you,”  your confused gaze followed his, tracing where he was looking. he reached for something in his pocket. a ring. “don’t need a present. i already have mine,” katsuki bakugo said, slipping a beautifully crafted ring onto your finger, kissing it delicately. “stay with me will you? and we’ll have much more to celebrate than this.”