Boom! Goes The Dynamight [Bakugo] (Angst)

Currently thinking about katsuki bakugo dragging me out of the dorms to workout over spring break because I’m low key depressed and I don’t wanna get out of bed and he’s worried but doesn’t want to look like a softie.

OR I would also accept kirishima helping me do basic tasks and being all goofy, like, making me take a shower then wearing those silly headbands and doing skin care with me.

I would also very happily accept Mina making me food and opening my window to let in fresh air and cleaning my room while I showered then curling up in bed with me and watching some bad reality tv show.

I JUST GOT A CRUSH! ᯓ★ katsuki bakugou x f ! reader. 1.02k words / fluff / not proofread

bakugou is bad at social media. not exactly terrible, yet not so great either.

he really doesn’t care too much for it nor does he use it that often but he’s not that unfamiliar with it. he finds himself being on tiktok from time to time though he never really bothered to make it known that he had an account in the first place, just enjoying whatever he comes across and liberally blocks accounts that come up on his fyp that pissed him off. he never posts anything either so it didn’t matter. it’s a typical account with a generated username and a blank profile, 57 following, 0 followers.

recently he found a video that he wanted to share (an edit made by a fan) and posts the link on twitter, alongside saying how ‘it’s real sick’ of them to make that for him. he didn’t even know videos like that were famous. the effort and skill it took made him think it were cool.

what he also didn’t know, was that his profile would be revealed when you press on the link.

he got so confused when his account suddenly gained so many followers in just two days since he ‘never mentioned it.’ that was until he sees the replies on his tweet that the linked he used to share got him exposed.

he checks it out for himself which proved that he did actually share his account without knowing, but it’s ‘whatever.’ even after everyone found out he just used it like normal. it’s only a pain when they kept asking him to post something.

he truly is without care, yet he underestimates the fans who immediately stalk his ‘almost’ empty profile. you see, he doesn’t know that his reposts are public because he doesn’t actually look at his own profile. it’s usually a like, like, repost, favorite, like, then close app routine that he does before he goes to bed.

there's a few funny videos here and there, cooking videos and recipes too, things he'd like to try out soon for himself, or techniques that were really helpful for him. some are also videos of fan edits that he recently discovered, where the same video he shared was at the top of the page.

yet, there was one reoccurring face that kept popping up. a pretty girl who likes to lip sync some songs or show off their trinket hauls. sometimes mini vlogs from their day to day or makeup vids. and the topic trends everywhere: DYNAMIGHT TIKTOK CRUSH

when you saw it you really couldn’t believe it yourself that the one anonymous commenter on your videos was a pro-hero, your favorite nonetheless. though, it makes you a little nervous since your face is plastered all over different social platforms because you’re only active on that app. you don’t know where to go from there except squeal into your pillows. definitely flattered when you recall the many times he called you pretty on your vlogs.

as the rest dive deeper into his little ‘crush’ they even saw him comment on a few of your videos with compliments that sounded extra flirty. they teased him so hard saying how he looks like a creep especially with that profile. he’s never gonna hear the end of it. soon a new topic blows up that reads: GO FOR IT DYNAMIGHT

in his defense, if he were to give anyone an explanation, he thinks you have a really nice smile and a really soothing voice. also that you’re real cute and charming, that’s why he could watch and even rewatch all your content in one sitting. he couldn’t get enough of you, absolutely smitten. even had to ask kirishima how to turn on notifications for an account in the guise of turning it on for his agency's tiktok.

you’re also the only account he’s following that’s not a cooking channel or a pro-hero. and yeah it’s basically all that, a crush. not that he expects you to actually give him a chance, he’s happy just seeing your content.

however, the poor (not really) bakugou is actually unaware of the whole situation of his ‘tiktok crush’ trending since he was finishing a mission. only finding out when he got a call from kirishima asking if he found a girlfriend already. “what the fuck are you on about?”

“your fans are talking about how you keep reposting videos of this one girl on tiktok. i mean, it’s kinda obvious if you’re dating.” and it hits him, quick. your username (the one he could only remember, really) flashes in his head, but he laughs it off. “nah nothin’ like that. think i could shoot my shot though?” he asks him and kirishima says, “haha! i think she already beat you to it.”

not knowing what he meant, he swiftly gets home, showers, and lays on his couch whipping his phone out of his pocket to search up your username. and there he was, staring at his phone, unable to stop the smile on his face when he sees the thumbnail of your new video. he opens it immediately and there you were, holding a dynamight figurine (a very limited one too!) close to your cheek that you’ve never shown before until now. you never thought to show it thinking he might see it and think of you as weirdo. it gave the opposite effect actually, even made him more confident because who would've thought your pretty collection had a 'random guy' in there (definitely not random for you at least).

bakugou immediately likes, reposts and adds it to his favorites. even screen recording the whole thing cause you never gave access to download your videos—it was a very special moment for him okay!

he then comments, ‘you can have the real thing too.’

a few minutes later it’s got your icon with a heart beside it. he chuckles, happy that you finally noticed him. beams when he gets a notification that you followed him back.

he’s definitely going to dm you after he calms down. just hopes this time you don't beat him to it again.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i love a katsuki with a crush i think it's so cute. but i love it even more that he's still confident about it!!! i like to think that reader probably has like 20k followers or something so pretty big but not as big as the others. the first time he met you he stumbles upon a video of you talking about the ice cream u just got and then he got hooked cause u were so cute when u were picking the flavor. PLEASE DO NOT SHARE THIS ON TIKTOK BTW >< also minors & ageless blogs please do not follow me!

TAPE IT | Bakugo Katsuki

synopsis:The night before Bakugo Katsuki ships out on another high-risk overseas mission, he doesn’t waste time with promises—he makes a memory instead. One raw, unforgettable moment laced with lust, love, and the ache of impending absence.

With only hours left together, he takes his time, worshipping you with hands and mouth, making you hold the camera so he can take a piece of you with him.

content: smut.

He’s leaving tomorrow.

Another mission overseas. Long, high-risk, and buried under a pile of top-secret files. He didn’t tell you much—just enough for the silence between you to grow heavier, thicker. Just enough for the air to carry that sharp ache of goodbye.

It’ll be weeks before you feel the weight of him in your bed again. Weeks before you can breathe in the scent of smoke, cedarwood, and sweat clinging to his skin. Weeks before you hear the low rasp of his voice murmuring your name like a prayer as dawn starts to break.

So tonight, katsuki's making a memory. His way.

You should be tangled up in sheets, limbs entwined, whispering lazy nothings in the dark. But instead, he’s on his knees in front of you, kneeling between your thighs on the couch, like you’re something sacred. Like this is a ritual. And maybe it is.

He looks up at you like he’s memorizing the sight—like he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you unravel like this again. His hands are firm on your thighs, thumbs tracing circles into your skin with reverent, almost desperate care.

“You’re gonna hold the camera, baby,” he says, voice thick and slow, like honey warmed over a flame. He presses your phone into your trembling palm, already recording, already flipped to show your own flushed, breathless face.

“I want it clear. I want it steady,” he adds, and there’s a tremor in his voice he’s trying to hide. One that tells you this means more than he’s saying.

You blink down at him, heart thudding in your chest. “Katsuki…”

He cuts you off with a soft smile—lazy, confident, but with eyes that shimmer like they’re drinking you in for the last time. “Don’t go all shy on me now,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against your thigh. “Not when I’m about to ruin you so fuckin’ sweet.”

Your breath catches, thighs twitching around him, and his smile stretches wider. That dangerous grin—the one that says he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

“There she goes,” he whispers.

And then he leans in.

His tongue slides over you, slow and unhurried, a soft tease that makes your entire body tense and melt all at once. He’s not rushing—no, never. He’s savoring. Worshipping. Learning the shape of your pleasure with every stroke of his mouth like he’s afraid he’ll forget it.

“Don’t drop it,” he murmurs against you, the vibration of his voice sending shocks down your spine. “You’re doin’ perfect, baby. Just like that. Let me see you come apart.”

You whimper, hips rolling softly, and the phone jolts slightly. His grip on your thighs tightens, grounding you, commanding you.

“Careful,” he breathes, licking up the slick mess he’s made like it’s his lifeline. “Told you I need this steady. I’m gonna be halfway across the world, starin’ at this screen every damn night. Gonna be strokin’ it slow, listenin’ to those pretty little moans of yours, imaginin’ it’s my mouth on you all over again.”

The confession makes your stomach warm, heat blooming in your face raw and intimate. A tether stretching across oceans.

“Eyes on the screen,” he whispers, lips brushing your most sensitive spot with every word. “Wanna see what I do to you. Wanna see how fuckin’ gorgeous you look when you fall apart for me.”

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles white, as your thighs tremble slightly. His mouth is relentless now—tongue circling, lips sucking, pressure building like a storm. Every flick, every breath, every hum of pleasure from his throat sends another wave crashing through you.

And he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pause.

Not when your back arches off the couch. Not when your moans spill out like confessions. "Fuck Katsuki" Not when your body begged for mercy, curling in on itself you thigh closing in on him. But you should know better.

His hands hold you wide open, possessive and unyielding.

“God, you’re perfect,” he mutters against you, voice thick with emotion. “How the fuck am I supposed to leave this behind?”

You’re already falling, already lost—when his voice breaks the edge with a breathless, reverent sigh.

“There it is,” he whispers, smiling against your skin like he’s found heaven. “Feeling good baby?”

If anything, he gets hungrier.

His tongue drags through your slick with slow, deliberate reverence—like he’s carving the memory of your taste into the back of his throat. Like if he lingers long enough, if he swallows enough of you, it’ll carry him through the weeks of distance ahead.

And then—sharp.

You gasp, hips jolting when he sinks his teeth into the soft swell of your thigh. Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to make your breath catch and your fingers tighten around the phone.

“Katsuki—!” you hand fly to hair, voice half-shock, half-plea, the sting blooming into something electric.

He chuckles low, tongue soothing over the mark he’s left before he does it again, a little higher this time. Another nip. Another burn of his teeth, followed by the warm balm of his mouth. He paints your skin with purple hues, teeth and tongue and lips all working in tandem like a man crafting a masterpiece.

“Gotta take a piece of you with me,” he mutters against your thigh, voice thick with longing. “Even if it’s just this—these marks. Proof I was here.”

You’re panting now, trembling with every brush of his tongue, the heat between your thighs unbearable.

And then—

Oh god. He zeroes in. Mouth sealing around your clit with devastating precision, tongue flicking with practiced pressure, and your vision blurs.

Your head falls back against the couch, mouth dropping open in a soundless moan—but he groans into you, low and commanding.

“Eyes on me.”

You drag your gaze down, barely coherent—but the moment your eyes lock with his, it’s like the world narrows to nothing but the fire between your legs and the storm in his stare.

His gaze doesn’t waver. Doesn’t falter. It holds you captive—hot and fierce and gone. There’s nothing soft in it now. Just hunger. Worship. Desperation.

He sucks—harder, deeper—tongue curling, lips tightening—and your thighs clamp around his head on instinct. He doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t even flinch.

His fingers dig into your hips like anchors, grounding you while his mouth pulls you under.

And he never breaks eye contact.

You’re unraveling right there in front of him—shaking, gasping, eyes wide and glossy, phone trembling in your grip. Your body bows like it’s offering itself to him, chasing the edge with no hope of slowing down.

“You feel that?” he rasps between strokes, mouth slick and voice dark with need. “How perfect you taste? How fuckin’ lucky I am?”

You whimper—wrecked.

“Fuck, baby. Gimme all of it,” he groans, lips wrapping tight around your clit as he sucks again, harder this time. “I want you dripping down my throat when I go.”

Your stomach coils, everything inside you knotting so tight it feels like your bones might snap—and still, his eyes are locked to yours, dragging you over the edge with nothing but sheer will.

You come undone with a cry—loud and broken—and his mouth doesn’t stop. He carries you through it, tongue easing you down, slow and sweet, while his hands stroke up and down your sides, grounding you as your whole body trembles.

Your phone is barely still in your hand, the screen catching everything—your ruined moans, your soaked thighs, and the way Katsuki Bakugo worships you like you’re something holy.

And through it all, he’s watching you. Just watching.

Like you’re the only thing in the world he never wants to forget.

Your breath is ragged, chest rising and falling like waves crashing against the shore, and your grip on the phone is barely there—shaking, slipping.

He notices.

Of course he does.

Wordlessly, Katsuki reaches up and takes it from your hand, his touch gentle, thumb brushing your knuckles before he sets it aside. Somewhere safe. Somewhere it’ll keep every second of what he just gave you.

Then his eyes return to yours—soft now, but burning still. Like he’s letting you see everything he never says.

Without a word, he leans up, muscles flexing as he shifts your body with ease, guiding you into his lap like you belong there. Because you do.

Straddling him, your legs wrapped around his hips, your skin still flushed and damp, you can feel just how much he’s been holding back—hard and aching beneath you, breath hitching the moment your heat presses against him.

But he doesn’t rush.

His hands settle on your waist, grounding you, worshipping you with the slow glide of his palms up your back. He leans in and kisses your shoulder—soft, barely there, like he’s afraid he’ll break the moment if he moves too fast.

Another kiss, higher now. Then one just under your jaw, lips lingering like he’s pressing pieces of himself into your skin to stay behind.

And then—

He slips inside.

Slow. Deep. Home.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging in as he fills you, the stretch so perfect it’s almost overwhelming.

A soft moan spills from your lips—half his name, half a cry—and he groans low in your ear, head dropping to your neck as he holds you there, body trembling with restraint.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice rough and raw. “I needed this. Needed you.”

You cling to him, burying your face in his hair, your lips against his temple. He moves slowly at first—hips rolling, grinding deeper than thrusting, like he’s savoring the way you mold around him. Like he’s memorizing every squeeze, every twitch, every desperate little sound you make.

Every inch of him is pressed to you—his chest against yours, his arms holding you like he never wants to let go.

“You feel that?” he whispers against your neck. “That’s me, baby. All of me. Gonna fuck you slow, so you remember me every time you close your eyes.”

You whimper his name, nails raking down his back, and he groans like it’s the only sound that matters in the world.

His lips find your shoulder again, kissing you through the burn, through the pleasure, through the ache of what’s coming tomorrow.

And with every breathless roll of his hips, every kiss, every whispered word—you know.

The moment he bottoms out, your body folds—curling into him, muscles seizing up around him with a whimper so soft it barely leaves your lips.

But he feels it.

Feels everything.

You’re clutching at his shoulders like they’re the only thing keeping you tethered to earth, face buried in his neck, mouth open and panting against his skin. He’s so deep you swear you can taste it, and the sigh he lets out against your throat sends a shiver straight through your spine.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, turning his head just enough to press his lips against the curve of your neck. He kisses you there, open-mouthed and reverent, then bites—gently—just to hear the noise you make.

You’re babbling in his ear now, too gone to form full thoughts, too full to think straight.

“So good—Katsuki, fuck, it’s s’good—don’t stop, don’t ever—feels so full, I—”

Your hips twitch without thinking, starting to grind in slow, desperate circles against him. The slide of your slick, the stretch, the obscene sound of it—it all makes his head spin.

But then his palm cracks against your ass, sharp and sudden.

You yelp—a high, breathy noise—and he smooths his hand over the sting, soothing the spot he struck before doing it again, this one heavier, more possessive.

“Easy,” he growls, lips ghosting your ear now, breath hot and ragged. “You tryin’ to make me lose already?”

You can’t answer. Not really. You just moan, hips still grinding, needy and uncoordinated, chasing more of him, chasing everything.

He slaps you again, a low groan tearing from his throat at the bounce of your ass against his lap.

“Fuck, listen to that,” he growls, his voice pure gravel and heat now. “Hear how wet you are? That’s my pussy, makin’ all that pretty noise for me.”

You whimper his name, nails dragging down his back, and he doesn’t wait this time—his hands gripping your hips, dragging you back and down as he starts to thrust.

Slow, deep, each one deliberate—like he’s staking a claim he already owns.

“You’re perfect,” he pants, watching your face twist as he hits that spot that makes your toes curl. “Feel so good wrapped around me, baby. So warm, so tight—fuck, I could die right here.”

Your whole body’s trembling now, your moans mixing with the slick slap of your bodies meeting, the room thick with sweat, breath, and the kind of love that’s too big to say out loud.

He buries his face in your neck again, voice lower now, a broken whisper:

“Gotta make it count. Gotta give you everything—leave you aching for me.”

And you are. Already. A mess in his lap, your walls fluttering around him, hips rolling to match his pace, your tears hot on your cheeks even though you're moaning through the haze.

He watches you fall apart on top of him, lips parted, tears clinging to your lashes, your body grinding like you’re chasing something you can’t name. And maybe you are. Maybe you both are.

Because something cracks in him.

Maybe it’s the way your slick clings to him, or the way your ass bounces against his thighs with every roll of your hips, so soft, so perfect. Maybe it’s the broken sound of his name tumbling from your mouth again and again like a prayer.

But suddenly he’s not holding back anymore.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, hips snapping up with a growl. “This ass—fuck. Feels too fuckin’ good. Can’t take it slow no more.”

And then he’s moving—fast, hard, dragging you down as he thrusts up into you with punishing precision, hitting so deep you cry out. The couch shifts beneath you both, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room like a drumbeat.

He wraps his arms around you—a full-body bear hug—one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of your head like you’re something fragile even as he ruins you.

You’re gasping, voice caught in your throat as he drills into you, every thrust stealing the air from your lungs, and all you can do is take it.

“Katsuki—Katsuki, I—fuck, I can’t—”

Your voice is barely there, a soft, shaking whisper right in his ear as you cling to him, shivering in his arms like your body can’t take another second but also never wants to let go.

He holds you tighter, breath ragged, sweat slick between your bodies, and moans low in your ear, voice cracking with it.

“Yes you can, baby. You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good. Just a little more. C’mon, just—fuck—just like that—”

Your hand flutters against his back, trying to grab at something, anything, even as your trembling fingers tap twice—soft, instinctive—against his spine.

Tap out.

And he knows.

His thrusts slow instantly, but his hold never loosens—just rocks you through the aftershocks as you melt in his lap, spent, clinging to him like you’ll drown if you let go.

He presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek. One more to the spot just under your ear where your pulse still flutters fast and wild.

“Got you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse but warm. “I’ve got you, baby.”

You’re trembling in his arms, body spent and sensitive, but he’s still there—still inside you, still moving, his hips rolling deep, desperate for his own high.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants into your neck, voice frayed and trembling. “I’m close—I’m so fuckin’ close.”

Your walls flutter around him again—tight, soaked, aching—and he groans, deep in his chest, like the sound is being pulled from his soul.

“Can feel you,” he gasps. “Still fuckin’ squeezin’ me. Shit—you’re gonna make me—”

You shiver again, your body helpless in his hold, and then—then—your breath catches.

It hits like lightning.

Your climax crashes over you in sharp, rolling waves, your entire body curling tight against him with a cry that’s half his name, half a sob. Your nails dig into his shoulders, legs shaking, your slick gushing around him as your pussy clamps down—tight and rhythmic, like you’re trying to keep him.

“Katsuki—”

He loses it.

His arms lock around you, crushing you to his chest as he thrusts once, twice—then groans, low and broken and so damn full of you—and spills inside you with a shudder.

Thick warmth pulses deep, his whole body tensing as he rides it out, his face buried in your neck, gasping into your skin like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this world.

He doesn’t stop holding you.

Even as the tremors fade, even as his breath starts to slow, he keeps you close—his cock still nestled deep inside, your bodies flush and sticky and shaking, hearts beating hard against each other.

He kisses your neck, soft this time. Reverent.

im begging for you to make a drummer bakugou based on that "i hate attention" video on tiktok of the girl on his lap

➻ omg i don't know which tiktok u mean i'll be so real, i think i might've found the right one but if i'm wrong i'll rework it ^-^ just lmk!

notes: nsfw themes, 16+, quirkless!au, band!au

context: katsuki bakugo is a drummer in a band, with jirou (singer), kirishima (basist) and kaminari (lead guitarist). y/n is jirou's best friend. masterlist

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

katsuki bakugo was always full of surprises. from the great effort he took into spiking his hair, to the deep black eyeliner he smudged on his waterline, it seemed like every week, you found out something new about him. originally, he was simply a hot-headed classmate who sat two rows in front of you, only interested in body-building and heavy music, while you were seemingly distant and dry.

so you were shocked when you found out your best friend, kyoka jirou, was in a band with him. sure, you should've expected it. while his hair remained naturally blonde, he often liked to semi-dye the tips black, while painting his nails and keeping them short. it also shouldn't have surprised you that he was the drummer. from the flexing of his biceps to the therapeutic anger-relief of hitting the drum skins, it was undoubtedly a talent suited for him. and you couldn't deny he looked hot playing them.

the band contained him, jirou, kaminari & kirishima, yet your eyes would only lay on the spikey blonde. he had such an intense stage presence, his crimson eyes hunting the audience like prey as he showed off his strength and aura. it was embarrassing to admit to jirou that not only were you going to her gigs for her, but also for bakugo.

"y/n," jirou muttered, straightening her hair before a gig. she was sat sprawled in front of a dirty mirror, cigarette hanging from her mouth as she looked towards you. you were lying on her bed, scrolling though social media while you waited for the group to start. you were vip, of course. "could you do something for me for the gig?"

"sure, anything for you," you winked, glancing towards her before back at your phone.

"we're performing a song that's kinda trending at the moment. we're wanting to, you know, get seen on instagram, as cringe as it is," she explained, standing up and rolling up her knee-high socks. "but the trend includes someone sitting on the drummer during the solo."

"right," you answered confidently, roughly knowing what trend she meant. "and what are you wanting me to do? find someone who'll do it?"

she went silent, a small, smug grin on her lips as she took a long, drawn out inhale. "no, i want you to do it."

***

and that's exactly how you ended up on stage. albeit in front of around 450 people, you were still on stage. with lights on you. and a man's LAP to stradle.

you'd only agreed after multiple pleas from jirou. apparently the majority of girls they auditioned just didn't get along with bakugo's rough nature and snotty attitude, and considering he felt awkward himself with these women, they'd had to narrow it down to people he knew. and that just happened to be you.

the music was blaring around you, a cover of type o negative being slammed on guitar and getting the crowd wild. it was becoming your time, and you began to dance towards the drummer, who was so entranced by his own performance that he barely saw you coming. heart in your throat but showing off a false confidence, you sultured over, before enthusiastically throwing yourself on top of bakugo. you heard him grunt under his breath, attempting to get comfortable while thrashing the drumset. by this point, he was topless. the heat of the atmosphere and humidity had all four artists hot and bothered. it didn't bother you, however, as you were in awe by his beauty up close.

"sorry," you muttered under your breath, going beat red in the face as you performed a lap dance on him, your hands clasped on his shoulders as you turned your face to the crowd, a sly look on your face as you watched audience members fien jealousy.

"don't be," he answered, his eyes shooting daggers through yours as he stared at you. his hands continued to thrash, fingers brushing against your skin whenever he could. "do i look like i'm complaining, freak?"

you bit your lip as you realised he was into it, a slight hue slithering over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. it bought you an unimaginable confidence and, being recorded by none other than ashido, you put on a show. bouncing, pretending to kiss him, playing with his hair... anything sultry, and you were doing it. he kept his eyes on you, and you noticed his eyes slip down your top occasionally as he checked you out. sure, maybe you were all he could see, but he was being blatant. and you were sure you could feel movement beneath you...

the cue for you to get off the stage was coming up, however; the song was coming to an end, so they could finish up the set and go for drinks. you'd been told by jirou to do something drastic, something memorable as you left, but considering you and bakugo had performed a softcore lapdance, you weren't sure where to go from there. you looked at him desperately, unsure what to do, and he 'tchd'.

"just follow my lead," he muttered, glaring at jirou before leaning forwards. you followed, your back now against the bass drum and the high toms. your eyes widened as he threw the sticks behind him, roughly took your chin in his hands, and kissed you.

your arms draped around his shoulders, melting into the kiss you'd only dreamed of. he smelled like deep caramel and musk, and his hands scaled up your shirt to feel your skin. he'd made out like kissing you was a chore, when he seemed to be enjoying every moment. you heard jirou scream in delight, saying something stupid to the crowd you didn't fully hear. but once you were let go by the blonde, he rolled his eyes and pulled you off the kit.

"now get the fuck out of my sight," he said loudly, keeping the shit-eating persona up for the audience as he gestured you off the stage. completely stunned from the whole experience, you nodded as you tried to stop your legs from turning to jelly.

"mhm!" you answered, completely unable to make eye-contact with the man. but, even so, you felt him grab your arm. turning, he pulled you to his ear, whispering so the audience couldn't hear. and his words made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"meet me in the back. twenty minutes."

an. i hope this is ok for u :)

Ok, i read ur rules! And say in ur master list that you do mha? If you still do mha, (idk if this is ok to ask) but can you do some fluff + angst with bakugo x fem! Reader, where she has a black magic quirk, and from a very early age she’s heard voices in her head. And they stop for a bit but she heard them agian and freaks out! So bakugo notices shes veeery quiet and asks her whats wrong and she spills the truth about her quirk and how if she over uses it she hears voices telling her to do bad things(NOTHING SERIOUS)

Bakugo and reader have a sorta friendship but with something going on between them? (Mutual pinning)

I HOPE THIS IS OK!!! I read ur rules and i hope this isnt violating them 🙏😭

don’t worry it isn’t lmao! but I’d love to do this so tysm for sending this in! so without further ado. . . enjoy ദ്ദി(•̀ ᗜ <) !!

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

𖤐 synopsis: your quirk makes you different from others..you hear voices that give you malicious thoughts. but, your “friend” bakugou katsuki helps you silence them and explore both of your unspoken feelings for each other.

𖤐 trigger warnings: references to intrusive thoughts, mild psychological distress.

𖤐 pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

𖤐 side note: - - > 2nd part of this story

the voices had been quiet for months. you'd almost forgotten what it was like to have that constant background noise—the whispers that came with your quirk. black magic, they called it. the ability to manipulate shadows and dark energy, bending them to your will. it was powerful, useful even, especially during hero training at u.a.

but the cost was something no one else could see.

use us… we can make you stronger…

the first whisper came during lunch period. you froze mid-bite, your chopsticks hovering over your bento box as the familiar, slithering voice wrapped around your mind.

let us in… just a little more power…

"shut up," you muttered under your breath, closing your eyes tightly.

"the hell did you just say to me?"

your eyes snapped open to find bakugou katsuki standing over your lunch table, his crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion. of course, he'd choose now to approach. the two of you had this… thing. not quite friends, definitely not enemies. training partners who somehow always ended up paired together. late night study sessions that lasted longer than necessary. hands that lingered a second too long when passing notes.

"not you," you said quickly, heat rising to your cheeks. "sorry, i was just—"

he'll think you're crazy if you tell him. everyone always does.

"just what?" bakugou dropped into the seat across from you, his lunch tray clattering against the table. "you've been acting weird all morning. more than usual."

you managed a weak smile. "didn't know you paid such close attention, explosion boy."

he scoffed, but you didn't miss the slight pink tinge on his ears. "hard not to notice when you're spacing out during combat training. you nearly got yourself blasted."

you had almost forgotten about that. earlier in the day, during all might's class, you'd hesitated just a moment too long when the voices first started whispering again. bakugou had pulled his punch at the last second, his explosion detonating harmlessly to your left instead of directly in your face.

he's waiting for an answer. lie. lie.

"i'm fine," you said automatically, the rehearsed response you'd been giving teachers and classmates for years whenever the voices got bad.

bakugou’s eyes narrowed further. "bullshit."

the cafeteria around you buzzed with activity, your classmates laughing and chatting, oblivious to your internal struggle. kirishima and the others had left bakugou alone for once, perhaps sensing he had other plans for lunch period.

he'll leave you too when he knows the truth.

"i said i'm fine," you insisted, pushing your food away. your appetite had vanished the moment the voices returned.

bakugou leaned forward, his voice dropping to a growl that somehow managed to be both threatening and concerned at the same time. "you think i don't notice when something's off with you? we've been training together for months. i know when you're lying."

you stared at him, taken aback by his perceptiveness. it was easy to dismiss bakugo as just an aggressive hothead, but you'd learned there was so much more beneath that explosive exterior. he noticed things. he paid attention.

tell him… see how quickly he runs…

the voice was getting louder, more insistent. you pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to block it out.

"hey." bakugou’s voice softened marginally—as much as bakugou katsuki could soften anything. "let's get out of here."

before you could protest, he had grabbed both your bags and was heading for the exit, clearly expecting you to follow. and despite everything, you did.

he led you to the rooftop, a quiet spot where few students ventured during lunch. the spring air was cool against your skin, helping to clear your head slightly.

"talk," he demanded, dropping his bag and leaning against the railing.

you hesitated, wrapping your arms around yourself. "it's my quirk."

"what about it?"

don't tell him don't tell him don't—

"the voices are back," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. "when i use too much of my quirk, they… they start talking to me."

bakugou’s expression didn't change, but he watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.

"they've been quiet for a while," you explained, pacing now. "i thought maybe i'd gotten better at controlling it. but this morning, during training when i used that shadow field technique… they came back."

he thinks you're weak. broken. useless.

you shuddered, and bakugou took a step closer.

"what do they say?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically careful.

you laughed bitterly. "oh, you know. the usual. use more power. do bad things. helpful stuff like that."

bakugou’s face darkened. "have you told anyone? recovery girl? aizawa?"

you shook your head. "my parents know. it's been happening since i was little. the doctors said it's a… side effect. the darkness my quirk controls, it's like it has a consciousness of its own. the more i tap into it, the more it tries to influence me."

he'll report you. they'll expel you. you'll never be a hero now.

"they're talking right now, aren't they?" bakugo asked suddenly.

you froze, surprised again by his insight. "how did you know?"

"your eyes do this thing," he said, gesturing vaguely toward your face. "they get all unfocused, like you're listening to something far away."

you'd never realized you had a tell. the fact that bakugo had noticed made something warm flutter in your chest, momentarily drowning out the malicious whispers.

"yeah," you admitted. "they're telling me you'll think i'm crazy. that i should have kept my mouth shut."

bakugou snorted. "if i thought you were crazy, i wouldn't waste my time training with you."

he's lying to make you feel better. he pities you.

"they're saying you're lying," you said softly.

without warning, bakugou closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders. the touch was firm but not painful—grounding.

"look at me," he demanded.

you raised your eyes to meet his fierce crimson gaze.

"do i ever say shit i don't mean? do i ever fucking lie to make people feel better?"

you couldn't help but smile slightly. "no. that's… actually one of the things i like about you."

something flashed across his face—surprise, maybe even pleasure—before he schooled his expression back to determination.

"then believe me when i say this. i don't give a damn about the voices. we all have shit to deal with. my quirk could blow my arms off if i'm not careful. half-and-half has his daddy issues. deku has… well, everything about him. your thing is voices. so what?"

he doesn't understand. no one can understand.

"it's not that simple," you argued. "they get worse when i use more power. and sometimes…" you hesitated, never having admitted this part to anyone before. "sometimes i want to listen."

instead of recoiling in horror as you expected, bakugou’s grip on your shoulders tightened reassuringly.

"of course you do," he said gruffly. "power is tempting. i know that better than anyone. remember the sports festival?"

you did. his rage, his refusal to accept a victory he didn't earn. the way he'd been chained to the podium, wild-eyed and furious.

"but you didn't give in," you pointed out.

"neither will you," he said with absolute certainty. "you're too stubborn."

despite everything, you laughed. "was that a compliment, bakugou?"

he released your shoulders, a hint of that familiar scowl returning. "don't get used to it."

he'll never understand you like we do.

the whisper was softer now, less convincing. you took a deep breath, focusing on bakugo's presence—solid and real in front of you.

"they're quieter when you're around," you admitted. "i don't know why."

a flash of something like pride crossed his face. "good. then i'll just have to stick around more."

your heart skipped a beat. "what are you saying?"

bakugou crossed his arms, looking somewhat uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. "i'm saying next time they start talking, come find me. i'll make enough noise to drown them out."

the offer was so perfectly, uniquely bakugo that it made you smile despite everything. this gruff, explosive boy who showed his care through actions rather than words.

"are you sure?" you asked. "it could happen anytime. middle of the night. during class."

he shrugged. "so? not like i sleep much anyway."

he'll get tired of you. they all do.

"the voices say you'll get tired of helping me," you said quietly.

bakugou stepped forward again, and this time when his hand reached for you, it was to brush a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness.

"let me make something clear," he said, voice low and intense. "i don't do shit i don't want to do. and i don't walk away from challenges."

"is that what i am? a challenge?" you weren't sure if you should be offended or flattered.

the corner of his mouth quirked up in that half-smile that always made your heart race. "you're a pain in my ass. but…" he hesitated, clearly wrestling with what to say next. "you're my pain in the ass."

coming from bakugou, it was practically a declaration of love.

he'll never—

the voice was cut off as bakugou’s hand cupped your cheek, his calloused palm warm against your skin. for once, his perpetual scowl was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

"tell the voices to shut the hell up," he murmured, "because i'm about to kiss you."

your breath caught in your throat. "bakugou…"

"katsuki," he corrected. "if we're doing this, you use my name."

"katsuki," you whispered, testing the feel of it on your tongue.

and then his lips were on yours, firm and warm and insistent. the voices that had plagued you all morning fell completely silent, drowned out by the thundering of your heart and the sensation of bakugou—no, katsuki—pulling you closer.

when you finally broke apart, the silence in your mind was blissful. whether it would last, you couldn't know. the voices would return eventually. but for now, with bakugou’s arms around you and his forehead pressed against yours, they couldn't reach you.

"they're gone," you breathed in wonder.

he smirked, that cocky confidence returning. "told you i could drown them out."

the bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of lunch period.

"we should get back," you said reluctantly.

bakugou didn't loosen his hold. "skip with me."

your eyes widened. "skip class? you never skip class."

"first time for everything," he shrugged. "besides, we need to figure out how to deal with those voices. might take all afternoon."

"and how exactly are we going to do that?" you asked, unable to keep the smile from your face.

his answering grin was both wicked and tender. "i have some ideas. but first—" he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours softly, "let's make sure they stay quiet a little longer."

as you melted into his kiss, you couldn't hear a single whisper—just the beating of two hearts and the promise that whatever darkness came, you wouldn't face it alone.

taglist: [open]

mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @gh0st-g1rll @luvseraphh

© property of kenzdolls

hey ash can i please request soemthing? a katsuki bakugo x female reader they are married and reader is like extremely weak? like physically and she got pregnant-a high risk one the type where the doctor would say to consider a abortion? something like that? you dont have to do this Just a request from a fellow follower love your works they are chaotic and love them :)

Hii mll♡

Of you can request anything I appreciate ittt♡

I hope this is up to your expectations♡

---

"Stronger Than You Know"

Bakugo had never imagined himself the marrying type—at least not back when he was the hotheaded teen with a short fuse and a tunnel vision for victory. But somehow, you had wormed your way into his life with gentle hands and soft words, the exact opposite of everything he used to think he needed.

He used to think strength was everything.

But then he married you.

You weren’t strong like him. Not in the way that counted for most people. Your body was fragile, your energy limited, and your constitution was nothing short of worrying. Some days, he’d carry you from the bed to the couch because your muscles trembled too much. He always did it without complaint, though he grumbled under his breath just to keep up appearances. You’d laugh and call him a softie, and he’d call you a brat.

But he never once resented it. Not once.

Because you were the only one who could make him feel calm. Needed. Loved.

So when you told him you were pregnant, his reaction was… complicated.

He stared at you for a full minute before the words even processed. You were sitting on the couch in one of his old shirts, fingers wringing the hem, face pale and eyes a little wet. You’d looked scared—not of him, but for yourself. For the tiny, forming life inside of you.

And he felt like the ground tilted beneath him.

You were already so delicate. The idea of you carrying a child—his child—through nine months of hellish strain made his stomach twist in fear.

Of course, the hospital visit only made things worse.

“The pregnancy is high-risk,” the doctor said, voice carefully neutral. “Your body might not handle it. If complications arise, it could be fatal… for both of you.”

You’d gripped Bakugo’s hand then. He could still feel how cold your fingers were. The doctor kept talking, listing options, risks, and the word he hated more than anything in that moment: abortion.

Bakugo didn't speak. He didn’t trust himself to.

The moment you two left the office, you waited until you were in the safety of his car to finally whisper, “Katsuki… what should we do?”

He didn’t answer right away. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“Do you… want to keep it?” he finally asked, voice low.

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I want to try. Even if I’m scared.”

He looked at you for a long time. Your face was full of fear and hope, all tangled together. You weren’t strong—at least not in the way people measured it. But he had never seen someone braver.

“You’re not doing this alone,” he said, turning fully to face you. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it together. I’ll be there for every damn second.”

You gave him a watery smile, and he kissed you before you could say anything else.

---

The following months were hard.

You were in and out of the hospital more times than either of you could count. Bakugo adjusted his patrol schedule, sometimes canceling it altogether just to sit beside you during check-ups. The staff got used to seeing the pro hero sitting with you, his scarred hands cradling yours, whispering quiet reassurances that didn’t match his usual brash image.

There were nights he’d sit beside your bed, wide awake while you slept restlessly. He’d talk to your belly when you were too tired to stay conscious, his voice low and steady.

“Your mom’s the toughest damn person I know, you hear me?” he’d mutter, fingers gently tracing circles on your skin. “She’s stronger than any hero out there.”

Sometimes the fear crept in.

Like when you collapsed while walking across the kitchen.

Or when the doctors said your blood pressure was too high again.

Or when they prepared an emergency bag “just in case.”

But you always pulled through. Even when your body screamed and the world felt like it was stacked against you, you kept going.

Because you had a reason now. A heartbeat you heard on fuzzy monitors. A future wrapped in warmth and baby clothes folded neatly in drawers. And Katsuki’s hand, always there. Always strong. Always steady.

---

The birth wasn’t easy. It was a blur of beeping machines, sterile white lights, and a level of panic Katsuki never wanted to experience again.

They rushed you in after you started bleeding—too much, too fast.

He wasn’t allowed in the OR.

He punched a wall.

Paced like a caged animal.

Nearly lost it when a nurse asked him to “stay calm.”

But then—

A baby’s cry.

And the nurse came out.

“A girl,” she said. “She’s healthy. And your wife… she made it. She’s going to be okay.”

Bakugo didn’t remember sitting down, but he did.

Didn’t remember the tears, but they came.

When they let him in, you were pale, exhausted, barely awake—but smiling. And in your arms was the tiniest, angriest baby he had ever seen.

“She’s got your scowl,” you whispered hoarsely.

He looked down at the two of you—his whole world in one hospital bed—and something in him broke open.

He kissed your forehead.

“You scared the shit out of me, idiot.”

You laughed weakly. “Worth it?”

He looked at the baby again, who had just punched the air in protest.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, it was.”

hii so if you take request right now and if you arent busy could you do a request where the reader is pregnant and katsuki was in a mission somewhere and he gets the call that she is in labour? maybe she was with mina or someone when her water broke? and he runs to the hospital? but not the like the serious way like reader just mad at him through the contractions for not coming earlier and shouting at him through the pain and bakugo just taking it all nodding if you dont do request right now please ignore it love your other oneshots they were fabulous :)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ You better get here, Katsuki! .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff, giving birth

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

☘︎ . . . requested? yes by anon

⤿ Bakugou sprints from a mission to the hospital after YN goes into labor, only to get yelled at through contractions for being late.

Katsuki Bakugou was on a mission. A quick one, supposedly low threat, in and out. No big deal.

Until his phone rang.

And it was Mina.

Screaming.

“KATSUKI SHE’S IN LABOR!!”

He froze mid-fight. “SHE’S WHAT?!”

“Water broke! She’s yelling at everyone! I’m driving her to the hospital now, YOU BETTER GET HERE FAST!”

He bolted.

Meanwhile, you were in the backseat of Mina’s car, gripping the door and yelling.

“WHERE IS HE?! I SWEAR TO GOD MINA IF HE MISSES THIS”

“He’s on his way! He’s probably flying or exploding or running with those weird loud feet of his!”

You groaned through another contraction. “I’M GOING TO DIVORCE HIM AND NAME THE BABY AFTER KIRISHIMA.”

Bakugou did explode-run. Straight to the hospital. He looked borderline unhinged by the time he burst into your room, hair a mess, shirt half tucked, hands slightly singed from his explosive sprint.

You were mid-contraction when you spotted him.

“YOU!”

“Hey”

“YOU TOOK YOUR SWEET TIME!”

“I RAN HERE FROM THREE CITIES OVER!”

“SHOULD’VE LEFT SOONER!”

He moved beside you and gripped your hand, completely unfazed by your death glare.

“Yell all you want, babe. I’m here now.”

You squeezed his hand with a strength that would make a grown man cry.

“YOU’RE NEVER TOUCHING ME AGAIN AFTER THIS, KATSUKI!”

“Yes, dear.”

“NEVER!”

“Got it.”

You screamed. He nodded. You cursed his name. He held your hand tighter.

And when it was all over, and the cries of your baby echoed in the room, you sobbed and clung to him.

“…You made it,” you whispered.

He kissed your forehead, eyes soft despite everything.

“Of course I did. You’d kill me if I didn’t.”

© jxwl4k 2025

You’re My Favorite Flower

Pro-Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x (Fem) Reader

——

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

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

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

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

And then… the comments.

——

@MtLadyMami25 :

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

@BakubroFan648:

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

@quirky_shins11 :

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

——

You lock your phone, eyes burning.

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

Why is your stomach softer than it should be?

Have your thighs always had that many stretch marks?

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

What do you even bring to the table?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You lower your gaze, ashamed.

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

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

He exhales hard, jaw clenching.

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

Your breath catches.

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

You blink fast, heart thudding.

“You wanna know why I love you?”

You nod, silently.

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

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

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

You tense. “Suki…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he does.

Over and over.

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

“You’re everything to me.”

hihihi!

idk if ur requests are open but i got an idea :)

bakugou/reader where they are in a secret relationship and the bakusquad sees them cuddling or whatever when they think nobody's around. maybe make them act like they hate each other infront of others hehe.

thanks in advance :D

oh yes yes i’ve already done two secret relationship posts u can find them on my masterlist :)) but i like this idea a lot so new one! lol

“hey kats.” you smile, seeing your boyfriend walk into the common room.

“shhhhhh.” he groans, agitated.

“hey?-” you frown.

“yeah yeah i love you, whatever. have a fucking headache.” he grumbles, crawling over you on the couch to lay his head on your chest, nuzzling into your soft shirt.

you smile, raking your fingers through his hair in attempt to soothe his headache.

“how come?” you say softly.

he stays quiet, unable to pinpoint what exactly caused this nuisance.

“..denki.” he says plainly with a deep frown on his face.

you laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“you can’t just blame denki for all your inconveniences.” you say giggling.

he looks up at you with a pout and you peck his lips.

“yeah i can. he’s stupid.” he replies grumbling.

you squish his face in your hands and he sighs, eyes closing.

“that feels nice.” he mumbles, words distorted from his squashed lips.

“what?” you laugh, moving to release his face.

“hey. i said it feels nice. stay.” he grumbles, eyes closed.

you place your hands back on his face and he sighs, the pressure releasing the tension on his temples.

you place kisses all over his face, his squished cheeks, his pouted lips, his pretty lashes.

“can i just get you an advil? we can nap in my dorm?” you offer with a grin.

his eyes open slowly, annoyed with the harsh lights of the common room.

“are you gonna play with my hair?”

****************************************************

“i knew it!!” mina whisper shouts.

she feels a pinch to her arm.

“you didn’t know anything!” sero whisper shouts back.

“okay fine whatever, i didn’t. but this is INSANE.” mina yelps, eyes wide as saucers.

“i can’t believe he blamed me for his headache!” denki pouts.

kirishima rolls his eyes at his friend.

“why are you so quiet?” mina frowns, jabbing her finger in kirishimas chest.

kirishima freezes, attempting to stay cool.

“i just… wanna respect their privacy.” he defends.

mina grabs hold of sero and denkis shirts, tugging them close to her.

“he KNEW!!” she says, filled with anger.

she jumps up and down while shaking sero and denki furiously.

“dude! are you serious?!” denki asks.

kirishima crosses his arms over his chest.

“well… bakugou might’ve said a little something.” he smiles sheepishly.

“UGH. i hate you so much right now!”

the pair continues to argue as you and katsuki obliviously move around in the kitchen.

“they’re going to hear you, dipshits.” sero states plainly, already bored of this newfound information.

mina pouts, crossing her arms over her chest and kirishima goes silent.

“i want to get a closer look, see how fast they switch up when someone’s close.” denki smiles devilishly.

the three watch him go, wait till he’s out of earshot and then start dying of laughter.

“he is not smooth enough to pull that off.” sero grins.

“he’s going to get his ass kicked.”

****************************************************

katsuki watches boredly while you rustle through the medicine cabinet.

he groans, resting his forehead on the cool tile of the kitchen island.

“i know.. ‘m sorry kats. i can’t find the advil.” you frown, moving denkis flintstone gummy vitamins.

“i don’t need it, just need to sleep. come on.” he sighs, fisting at your shirt.

“hey guys! what’s going on here?” denki cheers as katsuki tears his hand off of you.

“hey denki.” you murmur, continuing to move throughout the shelf.

“do you know where the advil is?” you sigh, turning to denki.

denki frowns, upset at the lack of drama in this room.

“no idea… why do you need it?” he questions.

“bak- i… have a headache..” you murmur slowly, catching your almost mistake.

denkis brows pull together, glancing at bakugou still hunched over with his forehead on the counter.

“what’s wrong with you then?” denki asks with a smirk.

“shut the fuck up before i knock your lights out.” katsuki seethes, remaining in his weakened position.

you giggle as denkis eyes widen.

“wow kami, he means business.” you say grinning.

kaminari’s ears turn bright red from embarrassment, frustration bubbling up in his veins.

“oh shit denki… don’t say it.” mina mutters and kiri and sero understand exactly what she means.

the three of them watch as kami’s hands ball into fists and his brows pull together.

“temper tantrum.” sero sighs.

“yeah?! well i know you two are going at it!” denki screams at bakugou.

“kats-”

katsuki lunges forward, gripping denki by the front of his shirt.

“well shit. come on.” kiri says quickly, hitting sero.

you watch as katsuki’s arms are restrained by kirishima and sero wraps his arms around denkis middle, the two pulling them apart.

“we’re sorry!” kirishima groans from behind your boyfriend.

“it’s fine.” you mutter, knowing katsuki’s only mad because of his headache.

“it’s not fine! get off of me shit stain!” katsuki screams.

kirishima looks to you for reassurance. you nod, and kirishima releases him.

katsuki lunges forward once again and you grab him by the ear.

“ah ah ah.” katsuki halts while groaning in pain.

you sigh, giving straight mouthed looks to your friends.

“upstairs.” you say forcefully to katsuki, pinching his ear hard then releasing.

he groans, giving a look to denki before turning on his heel and stomping up the stairs.

“we’re sorry-”

“-we didn’t mean to-”

you hold your hands up in front of their faces, effectively silencing them.

“night.” you mutter, trudging up the stairs behind your boyfriend.

****************************************************

as soon as you are out of earshot the four of them erupt.

“DID YOU SEE HOW HE LISTENED TO HER?!”

“HES DOWN BADDDD!!”

****************************************************

“fucking denki.” katsuki groans.

“yeah yeah just get in bed you big baby.” you giggle softly and katsuki glares at you.

he climbs in bed, reaching his hand out to pull you in by your shirt.

“im coming relax.” you laugh.

he frowns deeply, folding his arms over his chest.

you smile, climbing into bed beside him.

staring into his eyes, you search for answers in his tired gaze.

“how’s your head?” you whisper, leaning forward and brushing his bangs back to reveal his cute forehead.

he frowns and lets a groan slip from his lips.

“they just had to pick today to find out, huh?” he mumbles, grabbing your hand.

you giggle softly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“right, cause any other day you’d be soooo understanding?” you smirk up at him.

he scoffs, pushing your face away with his big hand.

“just wanted you all to myself…” he says under his breath, as if he didn’t even want you to hear him.

you feel your heart melt, shifting close to his face.

his breath hitches subtly as you turn your face to press open mouth kisses down his jaw.

he reaches for your thigh, pulling your leg over his hips.

you continue to kiss at his neck and jaw, placing a kiss to his adams’ apple as it bobs in his throat.

“you have me, okay?” you murmur against his skin.

he nods, arms wrapping around you in a bear hug.

“right.” you giggle.

“forgot its past your bedtime.”

Can you pls do an “asking my gf awkward questions” with Bakugo abt periods or any girls’ struggles? Ofc everything is jst pure innocence & genuine curiosity 🤍

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Wait….. that happens?! .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

☘︎ . . . requested? yes by anon

⤿ bakugou asking yn awkward questions.

It started with a TikTok trend.

Mina had dared Bakugou to try the “asking my girlfriend awkward questions” challenge. Of course, he scoffed and said, “That’s stupid.” But then he saw the look in your eyes, teasing, expectant, daring him back and well… maybe it wasn’t such a dumb idea.

So here you were, cuddled on the couch, phone recording as Bakugou awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Alright, I got questions,” he muttered, glaring at the phone like it personally offended him.

You giggled. “Fire away, Katsuki.”

“…So, uh. Period cramps. They actually hurt like that?”

You blinked. “Yeah. Imagine your insides trying to kill you once a month.”

His eyes widened. “What the f—seriously?!”

You laughed, watching him furrow his brows like he was preparing for battle.

“That’s not even the worst part,” you added casually. “There’s bloating, mood swings, cravings…”

“Cravings I get,” he mumbled. “You ate two whole pints of ice cream last week and cried watching a cat video.”

You swatted his arm. “Don’t expose me!”

He smirked, then hesitated before asking the next one. “…Is it true you just, like, randomly bleed? Even in your sleep?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s like a horror movie, but less fun.”

Bakugou looked genuinely horrified. “And y’all just… deal with it?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. We kinda have to.”

There was a pause. Then he muttered under his breath, “You’re all tough as hell.”

You blinked. “What was that?”

“I said you’re badass, alright?” he snapped, cheeks just a little red. “Having to go through all that every month? Shit’s brutal.”

You grinned and leaned into him. “Aww, is that sympathy from the great Bakugou Katsuki?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, wrapping an arm around you. “…But yeah. I didn’t know it was that bad. You ever need anything, just tell me, alright?”

You smiled, heart full. “Thanks, Katsuki. You’re the sweetest.”

He scoffed. “Don’t tell the others.”

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