My Hero Academia X Reader - Blog Posts

꒰🫧꒱ 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ⟢ ft. Katsuki Bakugo ‧₊˚ . ꣑୧

sypnosis ☆ prince bakugo was known for his fiery temper and hotheaded nature. but.. when he met the princess of dawn her calm beauty had an unexpected effect on him ⸝⸝ ᰔ ̫ ᰔ⸝⸝

content warnings ☆ long fic! multiple parts, fluff, angst, fantasy, no quirk au but some powers here and there, super cute, bakugo has anger issues ( of course ) fighting, mentions of wars, reader is a black female, threatening, black mailing, arranged marriage ( ? ), suggestive but no smut until later in the story, bakugo is 23, reader is 20, mentions of murder, suicide, & death, honorable mentions- prince! todoroki, prince! izuku, prince! kirishima, knight! tenya, knight! shinso, princess! ochaco, princess! yaoyorozu (::̲̅:̲̅:♡::̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) ⭐️

word count ☆ 2.4k

part 1 | …

the people of ashira feared their prince.

they feared the fire in his blood, the sharpness in his tongue, the way he looked at the world like it owed him something. bakugo katsuki had never been taught softness. he had been raised on war reports and swordsmanship. his hands were meant for battle, not bouquets.

so when word came that he was to marry — and not just marry, but marry the princess of dawn — he nearly shattered the goblet in his hand.

“this is a joke,” he spat.

queen mitsuki didn’t flinch. “this is a treaty.”

“i don’t need peace. i need my sword.”

“you’ll need a wife more. dawn controls the eastern trade, and their princess is the key.”

he scoffed. “what’s she like? cold? cruel? spoiled?”

the queen just smirked.

“you’ll see.”

the ride to solara took three days. the air smelled of oranges and salt. dawn’s lands were prettier than he’d expected — soft, golden, sun-warmed hills. the castle sat high on white cliffs above the sea, all pale marble and gold-veined towers. delicate. peaceful.

he hated it already.

the arrival was formal. guards lined the stone courtyard, trumpets echoed through the arches, and then—

you stepped forward.

bakugo blinked.

you were nothing like he imagined.

you wore a gown the color of blush roses, with lace at your collar and a ribbon in your hair. your skin shimmered in the sunlight, rich and warm, and your eyes— gods, your eyes. calm. kind. curious. like they saw everything and judged none of it.

you stepped lightly down the steps, hands folded in front of you. you curtsied low.

“welcome, your highness,” you said, your voice soft as silk. “i hope your journey was comfortable.”

bakugo stared at you like you were a ghost.

“…it was fine.”

you smiled, gentle and sweet, and he nearly forgot how to breathe.

☁️

that night, there was a formal supper in the high hall. candlelight danced off the crystal, and violins played low in the corners. you sat beside him, your gloved hands resting on your lap, posture graceful.

you didn’t speak much at first. just listened. watched.

then, quietly, you turned to him.

“i know this wasn’t your choice,” you said, “but i hope we might still learn to trust each other.”

he glanced at you.

you were so… gentle. so open. not a trace of mockery in your voice. and for the first time in years, he didn’t know what to say.

he cleared his throat.

“we’ll see.”

you didn’t press. just gave him a soft smile and returned to your meal.

he stared at his plate, scowling, but something inside him twisted strangely. it wasn’t anger. it wasn’t annoyance.

it felt almost like guilt.

the next morning came quietly, wrapped in sea mist and the scent of blooming myrielle flowers. dawn’s castle didn’t wake with noise — not like ashira’s. there were no harsh barks from generals, no echo of boots across stone, no alarms sounding drills. only the call of birds and the distant hush of waves breaking far below the cliffs.

bakugo hated it.

he stood by the wide glass doors of his guest chamber, shirt half-buttoned, watching sunlight spill across the tiled floor like it belonged here. he didn’t.

he hadn’t slept. couldn’t. too much silence. too much calm.

and you — you were worse than all of it.

you haunted his thoughts like perfume.

he could still hear your voice in his head, soft as silk and sharp in a way that didn’t wound — it disarmed. you weren’t demanding. you weren’t proud. you weren’t trying to win him over.

you were just… real.

and he hated that it bothered him.

he clenched his jaw, turned from the window, and grabbed his sword from where it leaned against the chair. if nothing else, he could still practice.

☁️

you found him in the training yard that afternoon.

he was drenched in sweat, muscles flexing as he dragged the blade across the dummy again and again — not practicing anymore, but punishing. the dummy was splintered down the middle, straw guts spilling across the cobblestones.

you didn’t speak.

you stood quietly by the arched entryway, hands folded, your skirts trailing behind you like mist. you didn’t announce yourself. didn’t offer pleasantries.

you just waited.

and when he finally noticed you — breathing hard, chest rising and falling, hair stuck to his temple — he didn’t shout.

he just looked at you.

“…what?”

“i thought you might want something to drink.”

you stepped forward, lifting the silver pitcher in your hands. two glasses sat on the tray. one for him. one for you.

he stared at them like they were some kind of trap.

“…you didn’t have to.”

“i know.”

you poured the water slowly. not like a servant. like a queen in her own right — steady, sure, unbothered by his bristling energy.

he took the glass from you with a grunt. your fingers brushed. he pretended not to feel it.

“you always this calm?” he muttered.

“no,” you said. “just with you.”

his brows lifted slightly. “why?”

“because if i’m loud, you’ll be louder. and i don’t think the walls can take it.”

it was meant as a joke. not cruel. not sharp. just soft truth, wrapped in silk.

he huffed — almost a laugh.

“you’re not scared of me?”

you looked up at him, eyes full of something steady and warm.

“should i be?”

he held your gaze.

longer than he meant to.

“…probably.”

but you only smiled.

“then you’ll just have to prove me wrong.”

☁️

that evening, you walked the gardens with princess ochaco and knight shinso. you spoke of the upcoming ball, of the treaty’s terms, of the possibility of rain next week. normal things. light things. but your thoughts weren’t light.

you kept thinking about the way he looked at you.

like he was trying to figure you out and didn’t like that he couldn’t.

like he wanted to be angry, but didn’t know where to aim it anymore.

like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how.

“you’re quiet tonight,” ochaco said gently, linking her arm with yours. “is it him?”

you didn’t deny it.

“he’s not what i expected,” you said.

shinso hummed. “i doubt he expected you either.”

☁️

across the castle, in the council chamber, bakugo stood with his hands behind his back, staring down at a map of the continent. red pins marked ashira’s defenses. gold ones for dawn. too many pins. too many dead.

prince todoroki leaned against the table beside him, silent for a moment before saying,

“she doesn’t deserve your temper.”

bakugo tensed.

“i never said she did.”

“then don’t give it to her.”

bakugo glared. “why do you care?”

todoroki met his eyes — calm, cool, unreadable.

“because this is the first time i’ve seen you shut up and listen.”

bakugo scoffed, but didn’t argue.

because he was right.

☁️

the next morning, a letter appeared on your pillow.

sealed with plain wax. unsigned.

“call off the wedding. you don’t know what he’s done.”

your heart beat slower as you read it. then faster. your fingers curled tight around the paper.

you read it twice. then a third time. then folded it neatly, rose from bed, and dressed yourself with care.

you didn’t go to the queen.

you didn’t panic.

you went to him.

☁️

he was in the hall outside the library, arguing with one of his knights — tenya, if you remembered correctly. something about patrol routes, about defensive formations. he was sharp, animated, his hands moving as he spoke.

then he saw you.

and he stopped.

“you,” you said softly, holding up the folded letter. “we need to talk.”

tenya bowed and left without a word.

you stepped into a side room. he followed, closing the door behind him.

you handed him the letter.

he read it once, jaw tight. read it again. then crumpled it in his fist, eyes dark with something colder than fire.

“you got one too, didn’t you?” you asked.

he nodded.

you watched him for a moment.

then, gently,

“are they right?”

his head snapped up.

you held his gaze.

“have you done something terrible?”

his throat worked as he swallowed.

“…yeah.”

your chest ached, but your voice didn’t waver.

“do you regret it?”

“…some of it.”

you stepped closer.

“then it matters. and we can deal with the rest.”

he blinked.

like he didn’t understand you.

like no one had ever said something like that to him before.

“you’re not leaving?” he asked.

“no,” you said. “i made a vow. even if it’s not official yet.”

a pause.

then softer, “and i think there’s good in you.”

he stared at you like you were a dream.

then, slowly, he said,

“i don’t know how to be soft.”

“i don’t need soft,” you said gently. “just honest.”

the look in his eyes shifted.

like something was cracking.

like something old was letting go.

and for the first time, he stepped closer without anger in his chest.

just… something warmer.

something dangerous in a completely different way.

the sun was high and lazy when you spread the blanket across the grass the next morning.

soft white linen, pinned down at the corners with smooth river stones. the garden around you buzzed quietly — bees in the lavender, birds in the cherry trees, wind rustling through leaves like gossip. and above it all, the sky stretched wide and blue.

you were already barefoot, skirts lifted just enough to keep them from the dirt, a little flower tucked behind your ear. you’d packed the basket yourself — fruit, little cakes, iced tea, lemon biscuits.

and bakugo?

he showed up late.

scowling, of course.

he had a branch stuck in his hair.

“what is this?” he muttered, hands on his hips, eyeing the blanket like it had personally offended him.

“a picnic,” you said cheerfully, patting the spot beside you. “don’t look so scared.”

“i don’t do picnics.”

“you do now.”

he muttered something under his breath but sat anyway, arms crossed, legs stiff.

you offered him a peach.

he glared at it.

“…it’s fruit.”

“yes.”

“not meat. not bread. fruit.”

“that’s what makes it fun.”

he snatched it from you and took a bite like it owed him money.

juice dripped down his wrist. he wiped it with the back of his hand, scowling deeper. you tried not to giggle.

“you know,” you said, leaning back on your elbows, “for someone so scary in battle, you’re really bad at relaxing.”

“i relax fine.”

“you’re sitting like the picnic is a trap.”

“it could be.”

you rolled your eyes, grinning.

he watched you from the corner of his eye, then slowly — very slowly — eased his arms down and leaned back beside you.

your elbows touched.

he didn’t move away.

“see?” you said. “not so bad.”

he grumbled. “still dumb.”

but he took another bite of the peach.

and when your skirt brushed his leg, he didn’t flinch.

☁️

after a while, you passed him a slice of cake — soft vanilla with orange cream, baked fresh that morning. he bit into it like he expected poison and blinked in surprise.

“…this is good.”

you smirked. “you’re welcome.”

“you didn’t make it.”

“i picked it.”

“barely counts.”

you gasped, mock offended, and tossed a grape at him. it bounced off his shoulder.

he blinked.

“…did you just throw food at me?”

“what are you gonna do about it?” you teased, eyes twinkling.

he grabbed a handful of berries and chucked one back. it hit your sleeve.

you both stared.

and then, you laughed — head tilted back, mouth wide, full of joy.

and bakugo…

bakugo didn’t laugh.

but he smiled.

not the crooked smirk he gave enemies before burning them alive. not the sneer he wore at court.

a real one.

small. quiet. almost shy.

you caught it.

you didn’t say anything — just tucked your legs under yourself and leaned a little closer.

“have you thought about the wedding?” you asked after a minute, brushing crumbs from your lap.

he snorted. “what about it?”

“what it’ll look like. where we’ll have it. what we’ll wear.”

he gave you a sideways look.

“…you care about that?”

“of course i do.”

you plucked a daisy from the grass and twirled it between your fingers.

“i know this wasn’t either of our choices, but… if we have to do it, i want it to be beautiful.”

he watched the way your fingers moved over the petals. the way your eyes softened when you talked about beauty like it was a language. like it was something worth believing in.

“…i thought you’d want something huge. full court. big ballgown. glitter.”

you wrinkled your nose. “i want music. and food. and flowers. but not the rest.”

“what color flowers?”

you blinked. “what?”

“for the wedding.”

you hesitated.

“…pink. and gold. maybe some cream roses. and sunlilies.”

he nodded slowly.

“sounds like you.”

your heart did a little skip.

you picked at the hem of your sleeve. “what about you? what would you wear?”

he shrugged. “black.”

“obviously.”

“…maybe red. just a little.”

you smiled. “and the cake?”

“it better be big.”

“you’re so romantic.”

he smirked again. “i’m hungry.”

you both laughed.

and then it quieted.

not awkward. just still.

you looked at him, the way the light kissed his skin, the way the shadows danced under his lashes. and softly,

“i think i’m glad it’s you.”

he turned to you.

eyes wide.

unsure.

“…what?”

“i’m glad it’s you,” you said again. “i thought it would be someone who didn’t care. someone who’d pretend. but you… you don’t pretend. and you do care. you just don’t know how to show it yet.”

he stared at you.

and for once — no walls. no fire. just something raw and quiet in his eyes.

“you really think that?”

“i do.”

a long pause.

then he reached out — slow, like he was afraid you’d disappear — and brushed a petal from your shoulder.

his fingers lingered.

“…you’re too good for me.”

you smiled, soft and steady.

“lucky for you, i don’t believe that.”

and in the hush that followed, he leaned in just enough for your shoulders to touch again. for your knees to knock. for your hearts to start syncing up — not by force, but by choice.

and neither of you said another word.

you just watched the sky together, side by side, under the warmth of a sun that had finally stopped feeling so far away.

author’s note: hello! i hope u like it.. i was high as ever writing this and its been in my drafts since feb so sorry for grammar mistakes!

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

⋆˙⟡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐀 ｡𖦹° hello! welcome to my blog ❀ ciani ( cici ) ☆ eighteen, black female, she/they, english/french, writer for anime, MDNI, geto, armin, gyomei & katsuki’s baby doll ᰔ ᩚ ‧₊˚

my works | my rules | most recent: 𝝑𝝔

©sugusama on tumblr! all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or repost in any way!

I just imagine as they go through UA, Bakugo's feelings get so strong that his heart races everytime he gets a check up after training or a fight, even if it doesn't show on the outside, and reader makes comments about his heart must be naturally fast due to his quirk or something but when around Recovery Girl she's just like "You dumbass, get a move on with her already, your hearts gonna explode at this rate," 😂😂😂

Katsuki Bakugo who has a FAT crush on reader. Who he hardly sees around.

You're a healer mainly, so you're in general courses and train with Recovery Girl on the side. He only sees you when you're with Shoto Todoroki, your half sibling. (Endeavour had an affair and failed to get custody after some things were exposed.)

You met at a family dinner, Shoto dragging him and Izuku along. Bakugo took a liking to you, liking how sharp you were. Cutting into any detail while everyone waiting for your next word. Bakugo tried to respect Shoto, not wanting to cross any boundaries. But god, did he want you. You were everything he wanted in a person and more-

So after graduation he spent more time injured than not. Making you joke about him doing it on purpose. Eventually you realized that actually was the case. So with a little pushing, he finally caved and forgot about his friendship for Shoto entirely. Focusing on the way you felt against him instead.

Lmk if this is interesting! I'll write a story for it or something!

sub Tamaki

sub tamaki who love dick slaps and you love the way he squirms under your touch

as much as it hurts , he actually is a fucking whore for overstimulation

the vibrator and your kitten lick on his tip its just so good he can't fucking explain it

the cuffs on his hands just make him needy but its fulfilled when you stoke his pretty dick

little slutty tamaki is just a absolute whore for strap he loves it so fucking much

ᴸᵒᵛᵉʳ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᴰᵃʸ

               »»————-ɪɴᴛʀᴏ: ᴜɴᴇᴀꜱʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴡᴇɪɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ————-««

⇒ Series: Intro, 1 ⇒ My Hero Academia ⇒ Dabi x Reader, Toya Todoroki x Reader  ⇒ AU where Toya yoinked Shoto and they ran away from Endeavor’s abuse. Story under cut! (Toya is 16, Shoto is 6) ⇒ 812 words ⇒ Chapter 1 coming soon!! Hope you guys like this idea!

⇓                               ⇓                                  ⇓                                   ⇓

“W-What are you doing?” Toya’s quick movements to shove stuff in a backpack stopped hearing Shoto’s voice enter his dark room. “Come here,” He whispered out, lighting a small blue flame from his palm to see his younger brother. The left side of his face was bandaged up as earlier their mother poured boiling water on his face. Toya tensed up, his eyebrows furrowing together at the resentment he has towards his parents. 

“We’re gonna play a game, okay? But I need you to keep this between us, alright?” Shoto nodded, his free eye shining with excitement. “You’re going to go to your room, pack some clothes and then meet me outside under the tree, okay?” Shoto nodded once more, his hands into small fists. “Okay go on,” With that, he left to his room being quiet. 

Toya opened his dresser and pulled out a box full of cash that he stole overtime from Enji. Stuffing it into the bookbag, he stood up and took a look around his empty room. ‘I have to do this.’ He reminded himself before slinging the back over his shoulder and slipping out through his window. He proceeded to jog over to the tree. Leaning against the tall trunk, he tapped his fingers against his arm waiting for Shoto. 

Within a few minutes, he saw his little brother exit the front door and jog over to him. “I got my bag ready, what now?” Toya bent over and picked up Shoto in his arms. “Now, we go on an adventure.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The morning sun coated the town in a burnt orange color. Toya looked over at Shoto who was fast asleep in his arms, wrapped with his jacket. By now they had reached the Shizuoka Prefecture. The only town that he could access by walking. ‘I need to hurry, he’ll find out soon.’ The thought of getting caught made his blood run cold. They both endured a lot, he couldn’t begin to what would happen if their father found them. What would happen to him, to Shoto. 

Shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts, he walked to the subway station. Purchasing two tickets, he entered the cart and sat down, holding his younger brother close to him. The only plan he had was to take the train to Tokyo, Japan hoping you would be there. The fact that their future was running on pure luck made him furious but it was a situation where he had to gamble it all on his one lead. 

The other day he had seen you on the news, doing Hero work for your internship program. He tapped his foot against the metal floor, his nerves getting the best of him already. The trip itself was 4 hours give or take, but he couldn’t keep wondering what if. Maybe rest would do him good, but he refused to doze off surrounded by strangers. He had to keep an eye on their stuff and on Shoto.

Within 4 hours, they arrived at the Tokyo station and Shoto woke up just in time. “Where are we?” “Tokyo.” He kept a tight grip on Shoto’s hand, not wanting to lose him in the crowd. “What about mom and dad?” His heart tightened at his words. “We’ll see them soon don’t worry. Are you hungry?” He nodded, his bi-colored hair shaking with the movement. “Let’s get some food then.” 

They walked to the closest restaurant who was serving mainly breakfast. For it was currently 7am. Toya waved over a server to which they were seated in a booth against the window. “What are you feeling like?” He looked at Shoto. “What can I have?” “Whatever you want.” They both settled on getting Omurice and peach iced tea. A small smile graced Toya’s features seeing Shoto so at peace for once. ‘I have to do this.’ 

They continued further in Tokyo, Shoto carrying a to-go order of cold Soba. In the distance, there you were. Talking to some classmates. Your (h/c) shining in the sunlight, making you look ethereal. “(_)!” He waved his arms at you to catch your attention. Excusing yourself from your classmates, you ran over to him. “Toya? What are you doing here?” “We need to talk,” he glanced at Shoto, “Somewhere private preferably.” 

 ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ 

“Are you crazy?” You whisper-yelled to your friend, after hearing his plan. “What would you have done if I wasn’t here?” “I don’t want to think about that.” Taking a moment to think what he said over, you watch Shoto feeding the Koi fish. A heavy breath released from your lungs. “If you’re serious about this, then stay with me. Next week I get deployed in Seoul, Korea. He won’t find you guys there.” Your last words were whispered. He nodded, taking your hands in his and squeezing them. “Thank you,” He whispered back. 

Small (huge) thing.

All of my fucking asks got deleted somehow someway. I took a break from writing because of mental health and shit, even if I didn’t post about it.

So, send me whatever asks you wish I will answer them all in due time. I’m so sorry, I have absolutely no idea what happened to all of my asks. If you’d like to send JJK asks, Demon Slayer asks, anything or any fandoms that I am into, I will write for it.

I have no idea what happened, and again, to all of my followers, I am so sorry.

I just reached 150 followers this morning, so, I wanted to ask. What should I do for it?

If there's any specific writing requests you know for a fact that I write, be sure to send them in! For anything really, angst or fluff!

You can always ask about fandoms and I'll let you know if I'll write them or not!

Ive been hyperfixated on Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me the most lately, so those will probably be put out quicker than others!

Just please remember my rules!

Hello, my dear!

My name is Touya, Michikatsu, or any name you're comfortable calling me!

This is my writing blog

My main is: @g0dwat3r

My pronouns are She/They

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DNI:

If you support incest, such as shipping Aym x Baal, Any of the Demon Brothers x Another Demon Brother, etc

If you support r4p3

If you support M@Ps/P3d0philia

Because I'm sure people will ask, proshippers are allowed on my blog. As long as you keep it in fiction, that's fine by me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fandoms I write For:

Key: Italics - I'll write for it, no questions asked! Bold and Italics - I love these fandoms, and I love to write for them! Please send asks about them!!!

Cult of the Lamb

Black Clover

Helluva Boss

Hazbin Hotel

The Originals/The Vampire Diaries (Not Legacies, sorry!)

Sanders Sides

Undertale

Deltarune

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba

My Hero Academia

Harry Potter

Markiplier (& Egos)

Jacksepticeye (& Egos)

Five Nights at Freddy's (Games & Movie)

Slashers

ACOTAR (A Court of Thorns and Roses) series

Assassination Classroom

Billie Bust Up

Bendy and the Ink Machine

Twilight

The Amazing Digital Circus

Disney's Twisted Wonderland

Obey Me: One Master to Rule Them All (This also includes Nightbringer!)

Sk8 the Infinity

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Do:

Character x Reader (Romantic or Platonic)

Character x Child!Reader (Platonic)

Angst/No Comfort

Angst/Comfort

Fluff

Slightly Suggestive

Don't:

P3d0philia

Incest

Smut

R4p3

Character x Character

Character x OC

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Go ahead and send in asks! I'm always happy to write whatever you have in mind!

But please don't just say: _________ x reader angst/fluff

Please give me a little bit of an idea of what you want!

Thank you!