Hi Again Haha ! I Wanted To Ask You If You Could Write Sieun X Gn!reader With That Famous Trend On Tiktok

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percy watches his cabin door intently as he hears someone rattle the doorknob. “hello?” he shouts. suddenly you get the door open, mascara running and heels in hand. he immediately reaches out for you, and you follow. “hey, sweetheart. what’s wrong?” he asks as he envelops your body, reeking of tequila. “went to that thing you told me to with annabeth. not fun.” you say, sniffling into his shirt. “what happened?” he asks with concern growing in his eyes, worried something may have gone wrong.

“nothing happened,” you grumble. “just missed you a lot and got drunk to make it go away, then it wouldn’t so i kept going.” you slowly breathe in his scent, bringing you comfort. “poor baby,” he chuckles, glad that the only thing you did was miss him. you continue to take deep, manual breaths. “all the girls were dancing with their boyfriends and having fun-“ you cut yourself off with a ragged breath. “and it made me realize i don’t like doing things without you.”

percy smiles at your words, affection in his eyes as you prop your chin on his chest. you gaze into each others eyes for a while. “why are you looking at me like that?” you say, hiccuping. percy rolls his eyes at you with a smirk. “can i not look at you in all your glory?” he asks, bringing a cheesy grin to your face as he takes his thumb and wipes a black tear off your stained face. “you’re such a dork, jackson” you say as you lay your head back down on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“you know you love it though,” he replies, rubbing light circles on your back as you fall asleep.

can you guys tell i'm ovulating?

Yuji having one of those mini-remote-controlled trucks that he can control from his phone so he can follow you around your house. There’s a little camera in the front so he can see your feet shuffling across the floors of your home, and keep track of where you are. If he’s at your house, he still uses it too.

He’ll put little candies and snacks in the bed of the truck then drive it across the house into your room and on your bed so he can deliver them.

You can constantly hear the little motor of the damn thing, and when you try to trap the little truck under a bin so he can’t knock into your ankles anymore, you get a million calls from him.

“Baby?! Why’d you put me in a bin?!”

“Because you keep following me Yuji! And when you bump into my legs it hurts!”

He’s pouting over FaceTime while trying to control the truck at the same time, but the little wheels aren’t strong enough to escape.

Eventually, you do let him out because of his nonstop pleading; and maybe you do miss the sound of the motor signaling to you that your sweet, sweet boyfriend is actively trying to get your attention even if he’s miles away.

Idk if this will make any sense, but idc I need to write abt this man. Based off of this adorable video I saw. It just screamed sweetheart boyfriend!Yuji to me, what can I say?

"we should have brought bread," your boyfriend signs to you with a frown, his eyes on the ducks waddling just a few feet away. you and katsuki had left the house just before sunset to relax by the lake on a wooden bench and enjoy the view as the ducks ran around.

you hum, latching onto his arm. "next time." you mouth to him, pecking his chin.

katsuki exhales, nodding lightly. he wraps his beefy arm around you, pulling you into his warm figure. he feels the breeze whisper against you both, some of your hair blowing into his face. he scrunches up his nose at the ticklish sensation, pushing your hair back down as you grin up at him.

you readjust yourself a bit so you can raise both hands. "the ducks are loud." you tell him, mouthing the words as you sign.

he rolls his eyes, actually thankful he's unable to hear. he knows he can speak to you verbally, he doesn't have to stay quiet. it's an odd thing though... he prefers to not say anything. he's comfortable the way everything is. especially in moments like these, where words aren't even enough to describe what he's feeling.

katsuki turns his head to look back at you, not even a bit surprised that you're already staring at him intently. he can't even fight the little grin that makes its way onto his face. he brings up his fingers, doing the "cmere" movement as you lean forward and he grabs your chin, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

۪ ݁ 𓈒♡ㅤthinking about him rn what if i sob

thinking about Pro hero Bakugo who wears a locket on him at all times. The picture in it? A beautiful picture of you smiling on your wedding day.

It's not on a necklace where it can snag or get pulled but somewhere else, safer. Also not as visible. But then the press gets a photo of him and someone sees it.

The pretty design on the back of the golden locket stands out. The press and his fans go crazy over it. Everyone already knows Bakugo is down bad for his wife but now there's a locket with unknown photos in it.

Bakugo chooses to ignore it till he's in an interview and gets asked "so everyone's dying to know. What's in this secret locket of yours?" A confused look comes to his face.

"That's a stupid question, my wife of course."

IN HONOUR OF MY FAVOURITE BOY

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ BIRTHDAY BOY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Bakugou used to love birthdays.

He’d be the center of attention. With every year being bigger than the last (because, honestly, did you expect his well-off parents to hold back on their only son?). Cameras clicked, kids shouted his name, and adults smiled in awe. He never cared if they liked him or feared him—he was admired.

And for a time, that was enough.

But somewhere along the line, the spark in those birthday candles started to feel dull.

His parents still celebrated, of course, usually with a home-cooked meal, a cake from his favorite bakery, and a gift he pretended not to like but secretly adored. His grandparents would always show up with noisy hugs and poorly wrapped presents, and his mother still made him wear a stupid little birthday crown at the table.

It was embarrassing, but it was also safe.

Familiar.

Then came UA.

By high school, the world cracked open in ways he hadn’t expected.

Everyone was strong.

Everyone had dreams.

He wasn’t the only one aiming for the top, and it was maddening—but also, for the first time, grounding. And he got friends—real ones. Not sycophants or kids scared of his quirk to say anything—so they just stay behind him, but people who challenged him through his shouting, his pride, and his anger.

Shitty Hair was the first to barge into his dorm room on his birthday with a lopsided grin and a poorly wrapped gift. “It’s a protein bar sampler! Thought you’d wanna see which one you could crush with one hand!”

After that, it became a tradition. Racoon Eyes brought handmade cards with glittery explosions. Soy Face made crown cut-outs from construction paper that Bakugou refused to wear but never threw away. Dunce Face bought the same grocery store cake every year with a new dumb nickname written in icing (he gets more creative each year—it’s starting to piss Bakugou off).

It was stupid. It was chaotic. It was good.

It became his day again.

And now—now he was 23.

The world around him had changed again.

He was a pro now. He had his own agency, his own patrols, and his own damn business cards that got passed around in hero circles and used to shut down villains on sight. Dynamight—no, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, they called him, like he was some unstoppable force (and an unstoppable force for a long-ass hero name). Which he was, most of the time.

But today?

Today, he just wanted to come home.

The celebration at the agency had been loud, grand, and grating. His staff meant well. Hell, even his sidekick (wow, surprising, he only had one because he was the only kid with the balls to directly say to Bakugou that he’ll surpass him during a personal interview) had pooled money to get him a custom gauntlet case with engraved initials.

There were banners (too flashy), snacks (pretty good), an off-key song, and a gaudy cake that someone ordered with indoor-safe sparklers instead of candles. He’d smiled (barely), given a thank-you speech that was short and gruff but genuine, and then dipped out the first moment he could without looking like a total ass. Bakugou knew exactly where he wanted to be.

Home.

You were waiting for him there.

Because you are his home.

He inhaled and instantly recognized the scent of soy, garlic, and ginger—it hit like a nostalgic punch straight to his gut. Home cooking. His home. You.

You peeked your head out from the kitchen and grinned. “Took you long enough, birthday boy.”

He let out a long breath, shoulders dropping, mouth tugging into a real smile as he kicked off his boots and unzipped his jacket, haphazardly draping it on the coat rack. “You been cooking this whole time?” he asked, padding toward the kitchen, hands already aching to hug you.

“I had to start late since someone had a fancy party,” you teased, arching a brow.

He caught your waist and pulled you in, burying his face into your shoulder. You were warm. Always warm. Always his to come home to. “Smelled it from the driveway. Thought I was gonna cry.”

You laughed, carding your fingers through his hair. It’s soft. It’s real. It’s what Bakugou, for the longest time of his life, thought he didn’t deserve.

“Well don’t cry. You’ll ruin your grumpy old man image.”

“You keep sayin’ old like I’m ancient,” he grumbled, voice muffled against you.

“You are! Twenty-three? That’s basically the beginning of the end.”

Bakugou snorted, lifting his head just enough to kiss your cheek. “Then I guess you better start takin’ care of me, huh?” he murmured, giving you another kiss on the cheek—and he’s tempted to bite into those round cheeks of yours, but he holds back; maybe later, he thinks. “Gonna live up to your promise?”

“I already do,” you said, smug.

Dinner was spread out in neat portions on your little dining table—fried karaage, miso soup, tamagoyaki, mapo tofu (yes, you finally lived up to surpassing Fuyumi’s recipe), Japanese curry, and a bowl of white rice shaped into a neat little mountain with a pickled plum on top. Comfort food. His favorites.

You even laid out a folded napkin at his seat and put a can of his favorite cold tea beside it.

But it was the bento cake in the center that made him pause. It was small—round and modest, clearly homemade. The white frosting was a little uneven, and there were three stubby candles jammed into the top in a crooked triangle. The frosting on top attempted an explosion shape but looked more like a flower in bloom. He loved it.

“You made that?” he asked, lowering into the seat and staring at it like it was some rare artifact.

“Baked and frosted. Don’t look too close, or you’ll see my fingerprints in it,” you said, sitting across from him. “And before you ask—no, I didn’t buy it from some store. I wanted to make it for you. Even if it’s ugly.”

“It’s not ugly.”

“Liars go to hell.”

He huffs. “Well, I think it’s fuckin’ adorable.”

You two ate slowly. Bakugou didn’t scarf it down like he did in the breakroom or during hero meetings. He savored each bite as you two shared a warm conversation over dinner. You told him how a kid at daycare tried to make you a birthday card to give to him but ended up scribbling dinosaurs fighting a volcano instead. You showed him a crayon drawing folded in your bag. It said, “Happpy Brithdai KATSOOKY.”

He laughed so hard he snorted.

After dinner, you two sat at the table for a while, talking about nothing, hands brushing occasionally, until you leaned forward and lit the candles. When you’re close like this, Bakugou could clearly remember every feature on your face—it’s something he wants to commit to memory every night.

“Make a wish.”

“Hm,” he hummed in thought.

“Make a wish quickly before the fire alarm sets off, dummy,” you smiled, joking.

He looked at you through the candlelight—lips slightly parted, eyes soft and loving. Yeah, he wants your face engraved in the deepest corners of his brain.

Bakugou made a wish. Then blew them out.

“What’d you wish for?” you asked.

He got up, walked around the table, and pulled you to your feet. “You.”

“You already have me,” you tilted your head to the side.

“Then I wished for more of you,” he replied, pressing your foreheads together.

“You’re sappy when you’re full,” you murmured, brushing your thumb across his jaw.

“I’m sappy when you bake me cake and feed me curry.”

You fed each other bites of the bento cake, poking fun at how sweet it was, until he dabbed a bit of icing on your nose. You retaliated by smearing it across his cheek. It turned into a mini war. Hands, faces, even his shirt took frosting damage. He scooped some off his collar and flicked it at you.

“I surrender! Oh my god, we’re a mess.”

“We can always take a shower later,” he says.

...

“Is that a suggestion or a promise?”

“You’re fuckin’ shameless,” he taunted, though showering together after isn’t that far off from what he was thinking.

“Uh huh. And who’s now old?”

“Still not me,” he said, wiping his face clean with a napkin. “And even if I was—if I hit fifty and go bald and need reading glasses and fall asleep at 9PM—if you’re still here with me, I’ll be fine.”

You paused.

“Yeah?”

He nodded.

“Even if I go gray first?” you asked.

“I’ll dye it with you.”

“What if I need a cane?”

“I’ll get one with spikes, and we’ll match.”

You laughed so hard you almost fell onto him. And when you looked up again, your eyes were glassy with affection.

“Happy birthday, Katsuki.”

He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin with care he rarely showed anyone else.

“Best one yet.”

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

loverboy — ✦ ✦ ✦

warn — deaf!bakugou, soft bakugou

note — i just saw smb say they hate this hc and so i must revolt. ps. happe birthday

katsuki hates making a big deal out of his birthday, he loves going all out for you but him? how about hell no.

you of course are completely opposed to the downplay of his special day but katsuki even with his hearing loss isnt an easy man to get by. you have a plan however, you wouldnt be his girlfriend if you couldnt outsmart him from time to time.

all you needed was a couple of friends, your lips and the man himself.

operation: butter up bakugo was in motion

you flicked the lights casually as you entered his dorm room, signing a hello as you crawled into his lap. he grumbled as you got comfortable but didn't push you away, instead spreading his legs a little wider so you were seated properly sideways.

this would be to easy.

he looked at your suspiciously for a moment but all that was erased when you began peppering kisses on his face, his eyes fluttered when you pressed some to his eye lids. hid favorite spot. you grined as he signed against your legs, "what are you doing?"

you danced around his lips, smushing his face and licking at the corners, "i love you."

he said nothing, letting his hands rest on your waist and thighs as you babied him. katsuki would never admit it, but he loved when you were like this. he couldn't directly ask for attention but somehow you always knew when he needed it. his eyes were dazed when you finally kissed him, his heart racing at 100 miles per hour. you fit perfectly in his arms, you were perfect for him and not a single soul on this planet could tell him otherwise.

you sighed as you released him and much to his disappointment moved to get up from his lap. "where you going?" he signed as you stood holding a steady grip on your waist, "nowhere." you signed back, flipping your legs on top of his so now you were facing him. his face was red with a visible blush, you kissed his cheeks then his eyelids again, hovering just above his lips (whuch he is staring at directly) before you whispered, "happy birthday" and pressed your fsce agaisnt his.

he melted like putty, gripping your waist band with sweaty palms, he didn't notice you had wished him a happy birthday untill aftee he was celebrating later that day, it had been a set up. one he fell for, and would fall for over and over again if you would just keep kissing him.

"cheater." he signed as he accepted a letter from you.

"lover." you signed back.

Whipped Cream ۶ৎBNHA UNI.AU

—>

‘do not touch.’ -k.b

You scoff at the ridiculous sticky note left on the bottle of whipped cream. Who does he think he is claiming an entire bottle and what the hell could he be using it for ?

It was dark and the kitchen dorms appeared empty, it was also 1am so it figures that everyone would be asleep if not on patrol for the night.

You had a smug look before taking the sticky note off the bottle and popping the cap, your finger gently pressing the top as the whipped cream fell into your mouth.

Once you were done you licked your lips, satisfied with yourself but nearly dropped the bottle when you were met with the bastard himself.

“Tsk, fucking greedy ass.” and it would’ve been more insulting if he wasn’t smiling.

“Says the one with the note on a bottle of whipped cream that’s almost a gallons worth ??”

“Oh yeah, who do you think the note was intended for ?”

And your mouth fell open. YOU ?! He was implying..no.. he KNEW you’d take it, what an ass.

“You know wha-“ and before you could protest his hand came up to your cheek, resting for a moment before he wiped the bottom of your lip and licked his finger with the nastiest grin you’ve ever seen him give.

“Missed a spot.”

—

Needless to say it wasn’t the last time you ate his stuff and he had no intention of getting rid of those sticky notes.