Hi Neema!

“Milk Meltdown”

Bakugo x Fem!Reader + Daughter Chaos + Newborn Baby

Genre: Humor, Family, Fluff

Warning: Embarrassment levels are HIGH

---

You had just settled into the rocking chair, your newborn daughter latched onto your boob like it owed her money.

It was peaceful. Quiet. Almost too quiet.

Cue your four-year-old, stomping into the room like she owned the place, holding a suspiciously empty juice box.

“MOMMY!” she gasped. “IS SHE EATING YOU?!”

You blinked. “What?”

She pointed, eyes wide in betrayal. “THE BABY! SHE’S EATING YOUR BOOB!”

Bakugo, walking past with a burp cloth, froze in place like a dead NPC.

“She’s not eating me, honey,” you tried to say calmly, even though your soul had left your body from secondhand embarrassment. “It’s called breastfeeding.”

Your daughter blinked. “Like...with milk?!”

You nodded. “Yes. Mommies make milk for babies. It’s how they eat before they can have real food.”

She stared. Then stared harder.

“So you're a cow now?”

Bakugo wheezed from behind the couch.

You glared at him. “Do not laugh. I swear to God.”

He coughed into his fist. “Nope. Not laughing. Totally serious.”

Your daughter looked suspicious. “So when I was a baby, I drank from your boobs too?”

You nodded.

She screamed like she was in a horror movie.

“WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THIS?! I THOUGHT I JUST ATE APPLESAUCE!”

Bakugo was crying now. Fully crying.

“I’m never drinking milk again,” your daughter declared. “Ever. Never ever.”

“Good,” Bakugo said. “More for the baby.”

She turned to him, dramatic as ever. “Daddy, are your boobs full of milk too?”

You both stared.

Bakugo went redder than his hero costume. “No. No, they are not. And never will be.”

“But you got big ones,” she said, poking his chest.

You immediately whispered, “Rip, bro.”

Bakugo looked like he needed a support group.

---

Later that night…

Bakugo was laying face-down on the couch. “She called me a milk tank.”

“She’s just confused,” you said, cradling your newborn.

“She moo’d at me.”

“She’s four.”

He sat up. “I’m buying a book. No. A chart. A PowerPoint. I’m explaining everything before she thinks I lay eggs next.”

You snorted. “Go ahead. She still thinks babies come out of bellybuttons.”

He froze. “...I need a beer.”

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.

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. 🌟🧡

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 』

MEN AINT SHIT!!

Dad!Bakugou w/ his daughter

𖦹*ੈ‧ 𓇼 ₊˚𓆝 Where your daughter gets her hands on your phone and chaos ensues

A/n: Layout kinda got fucked up but this is exactly how it would go down kids make zero sense and jump topics so abruptly its crazy

Do not plagiarise/copy/post on other platforms. All work is my original works. || Masterlist

Bakugo, but his sex drive sky rocketed when you both got together and he doesn’t realize it.

“Here. Drink.”

“Mm.” Was all you were able to mumble out from your face being smooshed into the pillow.

Your body was already growing in soreness and your little blonde firecracker could tell, he rolls his eyes playfully at your starfish figure, littered in pre developed hickies and your decorative blanket covering only what’s between your legs

He takes a sip of the cold water bottle he took from your mini fridge to sit beside you back on the bed, “Y’ still with us or what. I wasn’t even that rough this time.”

“I know, but you have to count this morning too when you had me damn near do the splits on the wall.”

“You said you wanted to try that move next time I ate your pussy?!”

“Yeah well.” You groan rolling over, his hand touches your side while guiding you to sit up and take his water bottle, “Didn’t realize I’d be in that position for 4 minutes.”

“Yeah…you usually cum within like 2 and a half when I eat—“

You cover his dirty mouth and sip the drink, it felt like your body was already getting cooled down from the inside you gulped it for a few more seconds, “Shut up.”

It was a comfortable silence, you threw your head back on the headboard to focus your thoughts again. You knew Bakugo had stamina like a mad man but the way how he’s able to get so viscously pussy drunk and the moment he cums he’s able to just get up and walk around like it’s nobody’s business concerns you.

He just had you face down a few minutes ago, crying out and hollering his name and now he’s just staring at you with a soft look of love

….and possibly lust because his eyes wandered back down to your breast and back to your neck. You couldn’t see him do it, but you definitely could feel it.

He leans in to suckle your throat, peppering quiet kisses to pull you closer. You eventually felt his warm hand slide between the wet mess between your thighs, gliding against your clit to make you shriek and clench your legs as a reflex.

“Hey!” You giggle at his ministrations, but firmly grasp his hand, “Again?”

“Only if you want to. Figured you wasn’t sleep right after so….”

It was really a surprise to you Bakugo was more than willing to have sex back to back and so much with you once you both started doing it, it’s almost all you both do when you both have free time together if you both aren’t training or studying. You’re not complaining at all, but it definitely was something you giggle thinking about.

“What?”

Your thoughts resurfaced and he quirked his eyebrow up in confusion almost breaking into a laugh without you, but still curious, “What? Spit it out.”

“I don’t know…I just never pegged you for a guy that liked to have sex this much.”

Almost immediately his cheeks burned a tinge of red, eyes widening he sit back and crosses his arms in a pout, slightly embarrassed at the realization, “Just because I never fucked anybody, but you doesn’t mean I’m a fucking prude or something.”

“Of course you’re not. I just…assumed after we had sex the first time you’d only wanna do it like…once every two weeks or something.”

The look on his face was pure confusion and offense.

“Every t—- you think I’m a fucking prude???!!”

“I don’t!”

“You do, —-TWICE EVERY MONTH ARE YOU INSANE?!”

His tone was annoyed and offended you couldn’t help but to laugh even more, but he seriously was confused as to why’d you think that. I mean have you seen yourself ? He can’t get enough??!!

“Well excuse me for wanting you. God forbid a man loves his girl.”

Hearing his voice gravel and wear down you stop your laughter to look at him, he tries looking the opposite way, but you knew from how he side eye’d you he was just being dramatic.

Using the bit of strength you had left you climb on top of him. For a moment you admire his scars and flushed body, the way his chest practically turns into a deep cleavage when he crosses his arms, his sharp jawline, the veins.

Hell, you was happy as fuck he loved to fuck you. Look at him.

“That’s not what I meant. Growing up you always were so focused on being a hero, that seeing you doing anything but is….fun to see. And im happy I’m the one to bring that fun side out of you.”

Still looking away you cup his chubby cheeks, thumb rubbing against them and you kiss his forehead, he looks up at you, “If you think I’m only with you for the sex you’re wrong, dumbass.”

“I know. Sex is just a plus. You remind me that everyday we are together.

Though he was still a little pissy about your twice a month comment he pulled you closer, chest to chest, “yeah? I feel the same way, and the whole reason why I started having consistent sex with you is to catch up.”

“Catch up?”

“Yeah….we dated for 2 years and never done it…gatta make up for it.”

“Baby we been having sex for 3 weeks straight, 5 days a week.”

“So.”

“We started having sex almost 4 months ago.”

“SO?! Jeez if you don’t like fucking then tell me.”

“Oh no…pfft I love when we do this. You make pretty faces when I ride you.”

“Fuck you!”

“Nah…but can I fuck you?”

You didn’t let him respond back, you just kissed him again, before adjusting your body to grind against his already growing erection again.

“Damn nympho.” Bakugo wanted to retort again, but it was broken up into a strained groan when you started stroking his dick.

“Takes one to know one.”

𝑻𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒌 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒅

— 𝒀/𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊. 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒚.

⋆☆　 katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆　warning : swearing , sexual talk , mention of pounding , fluff , drabble

•❣•୨୧　wc : 990

-ˋˏ authors note : 2 stories in 1 day!!! This idea popped up when I got home from college. anyways! let me know if I missed anything !!! Enjoy !!!

It was a regular day, and Katsuki was at home, seated at the dining table, as he worked through reports from yesterday's mission. Focused and serious, he barely looked up from the papers in front of him. Upstairs in their shared bedroom, Y/n lay sprawled on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok out of boredom.

As she swiped through videos, one in particular caught her attention—a girl asking her boyfriend to take off her bra, and the way he smoothly unhooked it made her giggle. An idea sparked. Why not try it on Katsuki? With a mischievous smile, Y/n sat up, taking off her shirt, only wearing her bra. She headed downstairs, calling out, "Katsuki?" He didn’t look up. “Hmm?” he hummed distractedly, still buried in paperwork. “I wanna see how fast you can take off my bra,” Y/n said, tilting her head with a teasing smile. Katsuki finally looked up, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?” “Uh… I saw this trend on TikTok,” she explained, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “A girl asked her boyfriend to take off her bra to see how fast he could do it…” She trailed off, embarrassed. Katsuki stared at her for a moment, stress etched all over his face. “No,” he said flatly, turning back to his paperwork. “Katsukiiiiii!” Y/n whined, grabbing his shoulders and giving them a playful shake. “ ’m not doing ya dumb TikTok trends,” he grumbled. “You don’t love me,” she pouted dramatically. “Never said that, woman,” he muttered, glancing back at her. “Please, Katsu—just this once? I swear I’ll stop after!” He sighed sharply. “No.” “But—” Without another word, Katsuki stood up in front of her, his arms went behind and with one swift motion, unhooked the bra like a pro. It slipped off and fell to the floor, leaving Y/n stunned—and topless. “Katsuki!” she shrieked, covering her chest. “What now?” he asked, deadpan. “That was too fast!” she said, eyes wide.

“What? Ya told me to do it. So why’re ya complaining, woman?” Katsuki asked, his tone flat and unbothered. Y/n, still in shock, stared at him. “How did you unhook it so fast?!” Katsuki glanced at her briefly before plopping back down in his chair and returning to his reports, completely ignoring her flustered reaction. “Katsuki!” she called out again, pouting. “Seriously, how did you do it that fast? Be honest—have you done this before? With other girls?” She crossed her arms, sulking now, suspicion creeping into her voice. Katsuki froze and whipped his head around. “Huh?! Are ya serious right now?” Irritation written all over his face. “Ya already know ya were my first, so don’t start spouting shit like that, woman.” Y/n stayed quiet, still pouting as she looked away, clearly not over the shock of his move. "My boyfriend of four years is out here having sexual encounters with other women..." Y/n muttered dramatically before flopping onto the couch in defeat. Katsuki let out a deep sigh, setting his reports aside and walking into the living room. He crouched in front of her, bringing his face close to hers. “Princess, stop,” he said softly.

“Ya already know I’m yers. So why the hell are ya sayin’ stupid shit like that?” His voice was gentle, even if he wasn’t the best with words. “I love ya. Only ya.” Y/n turned her head away, still pouting. “No, you don’t.” Katsuki groaned quietly before gently turning her face back toward him and placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love every part of ya,” he said, voice low and sincere. “The way ya body fits perfectly against mine… the way ya hand slips right into mine like it was made for it. I don’t want anyone else. Just ya.” He kissed her again, firmer this time, and Y/n squirmed slightly, trying to hide the blush blooming across her cheeks. "Stop making excuses," Y/n muttered, pulling away from the kiss. Katsuki smirked. “Then maybe I should find someone new, huh?” Y/n immediately sat up, eyes narrowed. “No, you are not.” He laughed at her reaction. “What? Didn’t ya just say I don’t love ya?” “Katsuki!” she huffed, smacking his shoulder. He just kept laughing. “Go put ya bra back on before I lose the last bit of restraint I’ve got,” he growled, eyes flicking down to her bare chest. “Then do it—if you love me,” she challenged, arms crossed. Before she could react, a firm smack landed on her butt, making her yelp. “Ow! Katsuki, that hurt,” she winced, rubbing the spot. “Ya say that, but ya like it more when we’re in bed, don’t ya?” he shot back with a raised brow. “Ugh, you’re such a pain,” she grumbled, turning to head upstairs. “Hurry up, I’ll be up there in a sec,” he called after her, pointing toward the stairs. “You’re disgusting,” she said, tossing him a fake-disgusted look as she paused in front of him. Katsuki leaned in, grinning.

“Ya won’t be sayin’ that when my cock is pounding the fuck out of ya, takin’ my time devouring every inch.” Y/n gave him an exaggerated look of horror. “I feel violated.” “Shut up and get upstairs,” he laughed, swatting her butt again as she squealed and ran off giggling. “Damn woman’s a whole headache,” he muttered fondly, picking up her bra from the floor. With a chuckle, he switched off the lights and followed her upstairs into their shared bedroom.

𝜗𝜚 bakugou katsuki | take it all

❕smut mdni, huge dick katsuki.

there was a distinct size difference between you and your husband bakugou katsuki, yeah, it was pretty obvious and he always liked it. the way his shirts were so long they were past your thighs, the way you shrank under him when he laid on top of you and so much more... but there was something else that mattered more to him than anything else. dude, your husband bakugou katsuki has the biggest cock you've ever seen.

even though you can't take his cock all the way in your mouth, you goddamn love taking as much of it as you can. just the tip? okay, fine, you'll do the best you can. and i'm sure you're not the only one who enjoys it.

your husband bakugou will go crazy while he watching you, you use both hands because his dick doesn't fit in your mouth. every time, he'll think he's never cum this fast before. when he realizes that you're mad because his cock can't fit in your mouth, he'll give you that damn grin and throw his head back. he'll be beside himself with only your wet voice and his quiet growls in the room.

even your two hands aren't enough to hold his cock completely, you can only take half of it with your mouth, this really gets on your nerves as you wonder 'why is it so big'. your husband is so big that you're always too small in this situation.

"take it… all…" he'll say as he grabs your hair and pulls you closer to him. he's always grumpy, and once he gets used to you giving him a blowjob, he'll lose his gentleness in this situation, after all, you're his wife, aren't you? you'll happily try to do as he says while you use both hands and your mouth, you'll try to give him the best blowjob you can, but his cock is really big.

well, make sure your eyes don't burn... good luck!

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

"I don't know what the fuck to do" Katsuki said, using his hand as somewhat of a visor for the sun.

"You have to look for the ripe ones" You looked up, you were crouched next to the strawberry plants, basket in hand.

The heavy rain had just stopped a couple hours ago, so plans were made for you and Katsuki to go strawberry picking.

-------------------------- ----------------------------

"Katsuki hurry up!" You shouted, car keys in hand.

"I can't find the fucking basket!" His loud voice echoed through the hall.

"I already told you, I have both of them" You sighed. He came speed walking down the hall, taking the basket from your extended arm. "Open your ears next time yeah?" You laughed, opening the front door.

"Yea yea, damn it stop talking like me." He grumbled, but he thought it was kind of cute anyways.

He quickly followed after you.

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"Is this one good?" He held up a dark strawberry.

"No, that one's too old, try a brighter one." You said, and he sighed.

"This one?" It was red, though it had a couple white spots.

"That one's not ready yet" He sighs once again, mumbling curse words under his breath.

"Baby, you wanna find perfect red ones, no white spots, no mold, just red." You look around, this field of strawberries wasn't all you hoped for. None of the strawberries were even close to being good. All of them were either molding, or weren't ripe.

"Babe, maybe we should head home and--" you turn your head to look at Katsuki, who currently has a perfect red strawberry in his mouth. "Where'd you find that one?" You laugh, and he looks at you.

"Errr, the plants?" He finishes the strawberry, putting the leaf stem in his basket.

"I'm glad you atleast found one, I can't find any. But don't put it in there just--" You cut yourself off once again when you see atleast ten stems in there. "Katsuki!"

"What?" He laughs "they looked too good to resist."

Failed surprise

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUBBYY!! I LOVE HIM SM MUAH MUAH MUAH <33

Pairing: Husband! Bakugou x reader

Summary: while trying to surprise your birthday boy didn’t work out the way you wanted it to you resort to cuddles !!

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

it was Katsuki’s birthday and you had planned to get up and surprise him. You had bought banners and flowers for the special occasion but your aspersions were cut short by his strong hands having a cage-like grip around your waist that was impossible to get out of without waking him.

You tried your best to pry at his hands but failed as he started to stir. “Mmh” he groaned as you stopped all actions, scared he might wake up but lucky for you he stayed sound asleep; snoring slightly. Though his grip around you was still lethal.

Cursing under your breath you continued your useless efforts but this time waking him. “Baby..?” His morning voice laced with confusion made you wanna spend all day in bed with him, cuddling and kissing him as if that was all you could give him for his birthday. “Morning kat.. uh I gotta pee..” you gave a white lie, hoping it would finally set you free from his hold. “Mk” he groaned flipping to the other side and resuming his sleep.

You pumped your fist in the air in succession as you tiptoed your way to the closet where you kept all your birthday presents and decorations but didn’t get far before you heard Katsuki grumble from the other room, making you realize you weren’t gonna be able to set everything up before you got caught in the middle of making his surprise.

Forfeiting your plan, you figured you’d just do it later when he’s out or doing something that would give you time to put everything together the way you wanted to.

You copied the same actions as before and made your way back to the bed where you found a groggy Katsuki sitting up, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he scrolled on his phone shaking his head at the amount of media he was getting all because it was his birthday. “Hi hubby” you say in a low cheery voice, getting on the bed and kissing his cheek “Happy birthday..” you smiled sitting by his side and resting ur head on his shoulder, locking arms with his. “Psh, it’s not that big of a deal. I’m just a year older.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh cmon Kats, have some enthusiasm.” You grabbed his face, giving him kisses all over. “There’s No lack in enthusiasm with you is there” he joked pulling you onto his waist. you continued to smother him in kisses, your soft lips making sure to cover every inch of his face. “Okay okay okay” he tried to protest but failed.

Eventually you showed him mercy and allowed him to take his glasses off and lay back down. “I wanna sleep in” he muttered softly agents the back of your neck. “Anything for you birthday boy” you smiled as he hugged you closer.

Katsuki did end up going out with his friends later which gave you the chance to set everything up, and it didn’t turn out as bad as you thought it would. he loved his surprise, which he later described that night while he was getting his special birthday gift.

(Sorry if this was half-assed I got lazy, BUT I LOVE HIM SMSMSMSM.)