Latest Posts by dynaxplosion - Page 5

Birthday dumps

BestFriend!K. Bakugou

𖦹*ੈ‧ 𓇼 ₊˚𓆝 When you’re at that point of your birthday everything seems to be against you, your best friend isn’t

A/n: Started making this during MY birthday dumps lol (Photos may look funky bcs I'm doing this on my Ipad!) || Masterlist

You never meant to be such a Debby downer, especially on your own birthday. But sometimes it couldn't be helped. It felt like a lot of pressure, and maybe a time to grieve the age you left, to grieve what could have been, rather than to celebrate what was to come. You know that its backwards thinking, but it was rooted into you.

It was wrong to lash out on him. You knew that. But to be fair, it was humiliating that everyone seemed to have forgotten it was your birthday. And even worse when they saw your stories but didn't even reply to it or like it wishing you a happy birthday. It hurt.

You couldn't help but scream internally at the pet name as you chucked your phone away from you. You were running purely on fumes and adrenaline... but maybe, just maybe, this birthday wouldn't be like the rest.

happy birthday bakugo i’m rolling one up in your honor

the pageant (snippets!) — bakugo k.

bakugo k. x calm fem!reader│word count: 2.9k

synopsis: For their last school festival, Class B challenges Class A to join them in the pageant. With yn as their chosen representative, Bakugo was more than ready to make sure she wins.

cw/tags: fluff, established relationship

“Me?” yn asked, blinking slowly.

What was meant to be a relaxed evening of festival planning between Class A and Class B quickly turned competitive. 

Kendo had started telling stories about pageant preparations when Monoma, ever the instigator, had cut in with that infuriating smirk. “Funny how Class A’s never even tried the pageant. What’s the matter? No one pretty enough?”

And just like that, the gauntlet was thrown.

Mina, never one to back down from a challenge, had been the first to rise to the bait. Now she pointed excitedly at yn, who sat next to Bakugo, nursing a cup of tea, blissfully detached from the brewing storm.

“You’d be perfect,” Mina gushed. “You’re gorgeous, super chill, and you’ve got that ‘mysterious but approachable’ energy that pageant judges would totally eat up.”

“Are you all serious?” Bakugo spoke up. He had been quiet this whole time, clearly uninterested in whatever dumb rivalry Monoma was trying to stir up. “You’re really going to let this extra provoke—”

“Sure,” yn said simply, setting the cup down with a soft clink. “Could be fun.”

Bakugo turned to her. “What?”

She shrugged. “Why not? It’s our last year.”

Monoma’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?” He let out a theatrical laugh. “Well, if that’s your choice, I suppose there’s no harm.”

Bakugo stiffened.

“What’d you say?” he asked, his tone dangerously low.

But Monoma didn’t back down. “Just being realistic. You can’t expect someone like her to keep up with someone like Kendo.”

"MONOMA, YOU IDIOT—!" Kendo launched herself at her classmate, delivering a swift karate chop to his shoulder

But the damage was done. 

Something in Bakugo’s expression changed, a familiar fire igniting in his crimson eyes. He stood up slowly, cracking his knuckles.

“You’re on,” he said, voice firm. “We’re entering, babe. You’re winning that damn crown.”

Yn merely picked her tea back up, hiding a smile behind the rim of her cup. “Guess we’re doing this then.”

The next morning, Bakugo personally took charge, dragging everyone to the common room and barking orders.

“Alright, extras. Listen up! This ain’t a damn pageant. This is war, and we are not losing to those Class B losers!”

“Ooooh, Bakugo’s invested,” Mina beamed.

Bakugo ignored her comment and started pointing at everyone. “Racoon Eyes, Invisibitch—you’re on make-up! Shitty Hair, Flat Face—props! Ponytail, you’re with me on wardrobe! Dunce Face—you stay far away from anything important!”

“Rude!” Kaminari yelped, clearly offended.

Yn bumped her shoulder lightly against Bakugo’s. “You’re really into this, huh?”

Bakugo shoved her back with equal lightness. “Shut up. And get your ass moving too!”

Bakugo slammed three different fabric swatches onto the common room table, making the coffee cups rattle. “Charmeuse is the only option. Anything else is garbage.”

Momo frowned, holding up a shimmering sequin. “But this would catch the light beautifully—”

“IT LOOKS LIKE A DAMN DISCO BALL. NEXT.”

Yn yawned, resting her head on her arms. “I liked the disco ball idea.”

Bakugo flicked her forehead. “You’re not helping. And go to bed.”

Jiro strummed the final chord on her guitar, nodding as yn sang the chorus flawlessly. “Damn, you’ve got pipes.”

Yn huffed a laugh, reaching for her water bottle. “Only because you’re playing along. I’ve got nothing compared to you.”

Jiro set her guitar aside, uncrossing her legs. “Seriously, why don’t you sing for the live performances?”

A shrug. “I honestly didn’t know I could. Katsuki’s the one who mentioned it.”

Jiro’s eyes widened. “Wait. Bakugo pointed it out?” Then a slow grin spread across her face. “How’d that even come up?”

Yn blinked. “I, uh, hum sometimes. When we’re… napping.”

Jiro’s smirk turned lethal. “Oh my god. You lullaby him.”

“And… I regret telling you,” yn said with a sigh.

Jiro cackled, kicking her legs like an excited kid. “That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard.” She flipped over and grabbed her phone. “Mina’s gonna lose her mind!”

Yn lunged at her. “Hey, Jiro! No!”

Bakugo watched as yn took one more wobbly step in the strappy heels Momo had made before immediately grabbing him for support.

“Yeah… I don’t think I can do this,” she declared, shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”

“But they’re perfect!” Mina said. “Look at your legs!”

“Look at my ankles,” yn shot back, gripping Bakugo’s shoulders for dear life. “They’re about to snap.”

Bakugo slowly knelt down, his fingers gently undoing the straps. “Told you. Ditch the death traps.”

“But she looks so pretty in—” Uraraka protested.

“She’s wearing shorter heels. Just make ‘em pointed so she’d look taller,” he announced, tossing the heels aside.

“Hey!” Momo yelped as she caught them.

Monoma, disguised in a terrible wig, peeked into the stage where yn was practicing.

Kaminari spotted him instantly. “Uh, guys? We’ve got a spy.”

Bakugo didn’t even look up. “Flat Face.”

Sero grinned, happily taping Monoma up, while Shoji picked him up, ready to dump him in Class B’s dorm.

Yn waved as they passed her. “Tell Kendo I said good luck!”

Yn pushed open the common room door, blinking at the unexpected sight of Bakugo hunched over the sofa, papers in hand.

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, sitting in the space beside him.

Bakugo shifted slightly to make room without looking up. “Still rehearsing for the live show.”

“And… you’re not playing the drums?” yn asked, leaning back onto the couch.

“Tch. Already nailed my part,” he muttered, finally tossing the papers onto the coffee table and slumping back. “They’re just screwing around now.”

Yn hummed, letting the silence settle between them. The easy kind that only existed when it was just the two of them.

She inched closer, letting her head drop onto his shoulder. 

Bakugo didn’t hesitate. He leaned into the contact, his cheek brushing against her hair.

“Missed you,” he grumbled.

Yn laughed. “Katsuki, we share classes, a dorm, and now this pageant thing. I see you more than my own reflection.”

“With the extras,” he emphasized, nose wrinkling.

“Aww,” she cooed, playfully poking his side. “You wanted me all to yourself.”

Bakugo huffed, a flush creeping up his neck. “Shut up.”

Grinning, yn removed her slippers and curled up on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her as she looped an arm around his. “Well…” Her voice dropped to a whisper, heart thudding in her chest. “You’ve got me now.”

Bakugo turned, his gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips. “Yeah?”

Yn nodded, her smile soft. “I missed you too.”

Bakugo’s expression softened. His hand rose to cup her cheek, rough fingers gentle against her skin. When she leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering close for a second, Bakugo looked at her like she was the only thing in his world.

He tilted her chin up, slowly closing the space between them. Their eyes slipped shut, breaths mingling as their lips finally—

“Hey, Bakugo! We’re back!” Kirishima’s voice rang out, the door slamming open.

Bakugo groaned, jerking away. He slumped back against the couch, scowling at the ceiling in silent, dramatic defeat.

The notification buzzed against yn's palm as she lay curled in bed, the glow of her phone painting soft light across her face. She didn't need to look at the sender to know who it was.

Stop scrolling through your damn phone and sleep.

A quiet laugh escaped her as she typed back, How do you know I'm scrolling?

The reply came instantly. Because you replied immediately.

Yn smiled, adjusting against her pillows. Maybe I'm meditating.

Bullshit. You're looking at memes.

She glanced at the image still open on her screen—a cat wearing a tiny, lopsided crown—and sent it without hesitation. Okay, but this one's good.

Her phone lit up with his response, the letters practically vibrating with indignation even through text. THAT'S LITERALLY JUST A CAT.

A royal cat, she corrected.

Go. To. Bed.

Can't. Too busy manifesting my victory.

The next message contained a single image: an alarm clock set for 5 AM with the caption ‘WAKE YN UP.’

Meanie, she sent, already dreading the early hour.

You'll thank me when you're not yawning on stage tomorrow.

Yn sighed, knowing he was right but unwilling to admit it. Fine. But only because you're cute when you're bossy.

The bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared. Finally—

You'll kill it tomorrow. If anyone says anything bad about you, I’ll blow ‘em up.

Her breath caught, thumb hovering over the screen. She smiled and sent her response.

I know I will. But thanks, Katsuki. Love you.

GO TO SLEEP.

Yn chuckled, about to turn her phone face down on the nightstand when Bakugo sent another message.

Love you too.

Yn stepped onto the stage, quiet and composed, mic in hand. Her presence alone was enough to hush the crowd. She paused at the center, took a breath, and closed her eyes.

From the back of the crowd, Bakugo stood with his arms crossed, gaze fixed on her. Her face glowed on the giant screen behind her, casting her features in a soft, angelic glow. 

Then the music began.

She began to sway to the melody, and when the moment came, she opened her eyes. Her voice followed, gentle and warm, filling the space like sunlight. 

The crowd didn’t dare move. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like polite silence. But Bakugo knew better. They were captivated. Hooked.

He smirked, pride swelling in his chest. Atta girl.

The song swelled with sentiment, a delicate ballad that mirrored her soft delivery. But then, without warning, it began to rain.

Gasps echoed. A few umbrellas popped open in the audience. Bakugo’s entire body went tense, instinctively stepping forward, already half-ready to shield her.

But yn didn’t flinch.

Instead, she stepped into it, letting the droplets catch in her hair, cling to her skin, trailing down her cheek like tears.

She turned slightly, just enough to angle her body toward the light, the water shimmering like it was part of the act. Her voice never wavered, staying smooth and steady.

Bakugo blinked. Then, he saw it.

That small tilt of her head. That calculated pause in her breath. The barely-there smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

She was guiding the moment, twisting the sudden downpour to make her performance more dramatic. She pulled their hearts with gentle precision, painting herself as this fragile, ethereal heroine.

And they were eating it up.

Bakugo scoffed, grinning to himself.

He knew better though.

Underneath that calm exterior, yn was competitive as hell.

She just hid it better than most.

Like how she always walked just a little faster whenever Sato brought out fresh cookies, slipping through their rowdy classmates like it was nothing, but always managing to snag the first one.

Or how she’d lean back and smile during game nights, cool as ever, until someone beats her in Mario Kart. Then suddenly, she’d be sitting forward, knees tucked up, focus lazer-sharp.

He’d seen it in training too. She’d nod absently when given instructions, like she was barely paying attention. But the second someone started getting ahead of her, her punches got sharper, her footwork quicker.

And she never backed down.

Not even when Bakugo dared her to eat the spicy noodles he made just to mess with her. She’d just stare at him, eyes watering, and eat the whole damn bowl out of spite.

She just hated to lose.

And that was one of the first things he ever loved about her.

The crowd probably saw an angel.

But all he saw was her.

Then, mid-verse, she looked up.

Right at him.

The connection hit fast. Strong. Like she'd reached straight through the crowd and found him exactly where he stood.

The mic hovered close to her lips.

The next line was supposed to be a tender, heartfelt I love you. A perfect romantic finish, made to be sung.

But she didn’t sing it.

Instead, she spoke. Changing the words, uttering it so softly. Like a secret passed only to him.

“Thank you.”

The word whispered through the speakers, yet somehow it was louder than everything else.

The crowd melted.

But Bakugo didn’t move. He couldn’t.

His heart was pounding, loud and erratic in his ears, drowning out the cheers.

He never believed in soulmates or any of that mushy crap. That wasn’t them.

He and yn weren’t some fairytale couple. They were two stubborn, messy people who’d somehow figured out how to make it work. No sparks or fate—just time, effort, and a whole lot of understanding.

Their relationship wasn’t built on sweet words or perfect moments. It was built on them showing up. On backing each other up. On knowing when to push and when to just be there.

And right now, standing there soaked in rain, watching her express her gratitude so beautifully—Bakugo felt it. All of it.

Up there wasn’t just his girlfriend doing some cutesy stage performance.

That was his person. His partner.

The one person who called him out, kept him in check, pushed him to be better—but never once asked him to be someone he wasn’t.

And he didn’t know what the future looked like after graduation, or what kind of shit they’d face out in the world.

But he knew one thing for sure:

He wasn’t letting her go.

Yn barely had time to adjust her crooked crown before the Bakusquad descended like vultures, hungry for drama.

“OHHHH, LOOK WHO'S EATING HIS WORDS NOW—” Kaminari howled, slinging an arm around Monoma's stiff shoulders.

“Funny,” Sero mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I could've sworn someone said we ‘lacked elegance’—”

Monoma's eye twitched. “I believe I said refinement—”

“YET HERE WE ARE!” Mina spun in front of him with a dramatic flourish, gesturing toward yn’s glittering crown. “This queen just wiped the floor with you. In the rain, no less!”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Yn stepped forward with a sigh, trying—and failing—to hide the amused sparkle in her eyes. “We shouldn’t rub it in…”

She paused.

Then pulled out her phone, the screen already glowing. “...without proper documentation!”

The Bakusquad erupted.

“OHHHHHH!!!”

“SHE’S ARCHIVING THE SHAME!!!”

“SEND THAT TO THE CLASS CHAT!!!”

Bakugo, trailing just behind her, let out a bark of laughter. He leaned over her shoulder, fingers zooming in on Monoma’s scowl. “Hold still, Knockoff.”

Monoma looked ready to combust. “This is harassment!”

Kirishima, barely containing his own laughter, grinned widely. “Yn use the clown filter. For accuracy.”

Kendo, watching the chaos with amused resignation, shook her head. “You're all terrible.”

“We learned from the best,” yn replied sweetly, passing her phone to Kirishima and patting Monoma on the shoulder with mock sympathy. “Thanks for the inspiration. You’ve been great for morale.”

Kendo chuckled and stepped in, offering a hand. “Seriously, though. You were incredible.”

Yn’s smirk softened. She took Kendo’s hand, squeezing it. “Thanks. You were amazing too. Had me sweating for a second. You made the competition tough.”

Kendo grinned and pulled her into a quick, warm hug. “Coming from you? That means a lot.”

They parted with a shared look of respect before Kendo dragged a sputtering Monoma off by the collar, still mid-rant.

Then, finally, yn let the tension drain from her shoulders. She turned and collapsed into Bakugo’s side, face buried in his chest.

“Carry me,” she mumbled into his shirt, her voice muffled and sleepy.

Bakugo let out a low chuckle, wrapping an arm around her. “Yeah, yeah. I got you, princess.”

The stars were out. Quiet, for once.

Yn climbed the stairs slowly, her sweater sleeves pulled over her hands. She found him exactly where she expected—leaning against the railing, arms folded, gaze turned skyward.

“You avoiding the party?” she asked, voice light.

Bakugo didn’t look at her. “Tch. Too loud.”

She joined him at the railing, shoulder brushing his.

“I can’t celebrate my win without my coach, y’know,” she teased, glancing up at him.

That earned a small scoff. “You didn’t win ‘cause of me.”

“I didn’t win without you either,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond at first, just stared ahead, jaw tight. Then—

“You were amazing,” he said, almost grudgingly. “Stupidly amazing.”

Yn smiled. “You’re getting better at compliments.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, but his ears were definitely pink.

Silence followed, settling comfortably between them, soft and familiar.

“But I was a bit scared, you know,” yn admitted after a moment.

Bakugo snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. Could’ve fooled me.”

She bumped his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious, jerk.” Then, more quietly, her expression softened. “I kept looking for you.”

Something flickered in his eyes. The distance between them diminished.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice low.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

This time, when they leaned in, there was no hesitation. Her fingers curled into his hoodie, his fingers hovered near her jaw, and the rooftop felt quieter than it had all night.

Their noses brushed, lips just about to meet—

“Yo! There you guys are!”

Bakugo’s forehead fell to yn’s shoulder with a low, agonized groan.

“Shitty Hair,” he growled, not even turning around. “I swear to god—”

“I just came to tell you there’s cake!” Kirishima grinned from the door, completely unbothered. “But hey, don’t stop on my account—”

“Kirishima.”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving!”

He disappeared back down the stairs, laughing.

Yn pressed a hand to her mouth, giggling into her palm. “Next time then,” she whispered, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah… fuck that,” Bakugo muttered, before tugging her in by the waist. “C’mere.”

MY MANNNNN

Bakugo Katsuki is unreasonable when it comes to you. He is constantly worried something is going to happen to you. He knows you're strong, he knows you're able to care for you. Its not that he believes that you are useless without him.

Its how clumsy you are.

The amount of times you have hurt yourself on basic items. You're constantly getting paper cuts and its to the point that he always has bandaids on him because he knows you're somehow going to get a cut or fall and skin your knee.

He has such a soft spot for you. But god does he get annoyed with how accident prone you seem to be.

But with that he's so protective over you. Not in a weird way but in a "i feel a need to make sure you're okay" kind of way.

You're the only person he will show any physical affection in public. He always has a hand on you. An arm around your waist, hand interlocked with yours, arms wrapped around you in a protective hug. Katsuki will try his best to make sure that you are safe even you some how manage to hurt yourself anyways.

As clumsy as you are. You are katuski bakugos sweet baby.

my man appreciation post cause it's his birthday today 🥳🥳🎂🎂

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATSUKI BAKUGOU !!

I love you baby umahumahumahumah HE'S SO SILLY OMG I WANNA SQUISH HIS CHEEKS SO BADD UGHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😔😔🙏🏻🙏🏻💔💔

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

my boyfriends...? A CAT ?! - K! BAKUGOU

a bakugou birthday special

wc - 4.6k

skipping some classes to help fight villains wasn't something new to bakugou; in fact, it's become a routine. he'd heard the news that there were some villains in the area and would join the pros with a couple of his classmates.

however this time, the only thing different was that the villain was someone new, and their quirk? a mystery. none of the heroes at the scene could figure it out, as the quirk kept changing! it was truly mind-boggling.

"how the hell is that bastard doing this? he must be a quirk stealer," bakugou muttered to the boy beside him.

kirishima could only break out into a smirk at his friend's claim, "yeah? then we better test that out. i say we charge at him; if he's a quirk stealer, he might steal only one. you in, dynamight?"

"tch, you challenging me, red?" that was all the confirmation the redhead needed to set off with an attack.

the pair worked well together, always meeting each other halfway. whether it be with studying, sports or fighting, the duo complemented each other; everyone could see how well their dynamic was.

bakugou on one side and kirishima on the other, the villain was cornered. just as they were about to attack, their nemesis mummbled something under their breath, blasting an attack at the hot-headed hero, causing him to disappear.

kirishima gasped in shock, quickly tackling the villain down. around him, chaos erupted; the pro heroes were jumping around trying to find bakugou.

the villain was taken from kirishima, immediately put in handcuffs and questioned on what happened to bakugou.

"where did dynamight go?" one of the civilian onlookers said in shock.

the red-headed boy glanced around in search of his best friend, his eyes hopping from place to place. just as he was about to turn around, kirishima caught sight of some movement under bakugou's hero suit.

"huh...?" he slowly crept towards the suit, ears catching a strange sound.

'is... is that a cat?'

as kirishima inched closer, the sound got louder. oh yeah, it was definitely a cat.

lifting up the black pieces of clothing, kirishima was greeted with the unexpected sight of a cat hissing at him with a scowl.

"aw, what a cute kitty! what're you doing under bakugou's clothes, hm?" kirishima cooed, grabbing the cat.

unfortunately for him, the second he lifted the cat towards his face, he was attacked by scratches.

"what the hell — ack!" the cat growled, yowling at the boy.

kirishima pulled the cat away from his face and met the icy stare of its vermilion eyes. oh.

bakugou was the cat.

"THE FUCK?"

cat bakugou scratched the boy again, letting out an aggressive 'mrrowr. the heroes and civilians stopped their actions, glancing at the two boys with dropped jaws.

"wait, is that... dynamight?!" a young girl called out from the crowd, invoking havoc.

all might jumps in, quickly saving kirishima from the assault.

"young bakugou... or cat bakugou? I'm not sure, but stop attacking red riot!" now it was all might's turn to receive a beating from the sharp claws.

a sigh escaped your lips as you patiently waited against the wall for your boyfriend, who was late. bakugou was never late, but because he had been roped into a sudden villain attack, you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

your eyes trailed around the area, swinging from the wall to the vending machine that finally had your favourite drink.

"i guess one wouldn't hurt," you mumbled to yourself.

just as you punched in the code for the drink, the phone in your pocket started vibrating intensely. turning your attention away from the machine, you grabbed your phone, opening it to see messages from the class-1a group chat.

'what nonsense are they talking about now?'

the chat loaded, immediately bombarding you with cute pictures of a fluffy, persian cat with what might've been the softest fur you've ever seen. all the pictures came from kirishima and sero, causing everyone to gush over the cute bundle of fur.

letting out a small 'awww' at the kitty, you quickly type back a response.

Y/NNIE awww kiri, where did you find the cat? ROCK HARD um.. you see, that's kind of what i need to talk to everyone about... IZU-KUN go ahead kirishima! CUM SQUIRTER (MINA) can we save whatever u wanna say for later? rn js come back to the dorms with the kitty!! im sure momo could make some cute clothes for her!!! ROCK HARD ykw sure, but its a boy and he scratches so be careful KIRBY (uraraka) im sure we'll be okay we deal with bakugou on a daily basis YNNIE speaking of kats... where is he? he was supposed to spar with me after the villain attack ROCK HARD he's here with me now, but it's a bit confusing. i'll explain better when we reach the dorms. YNNIE okiee, I'll head back up and meet everyone in the common room!

kirishima didn’t reply after that, which only made your curiosity spike. something was off, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. quickly grabbing your drink, you headed towards the common room.

the walk wasn't too long, but the thoughts of the cat and your boyfriend clouded your mind. thinking of the way the two of you could look after it and play with it! just the thought of your big, burly boyfriend playing with such a small animal had you blushing.

you couldn’t help but imagine him as a dad, married to you, holding your kid with that same grumpy face softened just a little.

the train of thoughts ended when you had finally reached the common room door, and it wasn't exactly quiet in there... i mean, when was it ever?

upon entering, you could hear screams coming from denki, accusing the cat of biting him. 'the cat might be dangerous,' you thought, entering the chaos. the couches that once sat in the centre of the room were now standing upright on the walls, the coffee table was tipped over and everyone looked a mess.

"what the fuck happened?" you questioned, appalled by the state of the room and everyone inside of it. your eyes darted to the feline, taking in its appearance. it was a blonde persian cat, with vermilion eyes glaring at every individual. the moment the cat heard your voice, it let out a loud wail, darting towards you, pawing at your clothes.

nervous, you leaned down to pick up the cat, mentally praying that it doesn't attack you. the moment your arms wrapped around the animal, you felt it nestle into you, softly purring, shocking your classmates.

"huh- wha- ... HOW?" denki cried, arms flailing around dramatically.

"we've been trying to calm him down for so long! kirishima, where did you get the cat from?!" momo's question made you turn to the redhead, suddenly noticing your blonde boyfriend was missing.

a frown washed over your face. now you were really worried. what had happened to your boyfriend?

almost as if it could read your thoughts, the cat in your arms meows softly, nipping at your neck. giving the cat a small smile, you moved your hand to caress its soft fur.

"i'd also like to know where katsuki is," you piped in. you stared angrily at kirishima because he wouldn't get to the point.

kirishima let out a sigh. "bakugou got hit by the villain's quirk-"

"what?! is he okay? where is—"

"he's fine." kirishima grumbled, clearly overstimulated from this whole situation. "as i was saying, bakugou got hit by a quirk which ended up turning him into a cat."

'huh?' now you were super confused.

"if bakugou's a cat, then where-" you paused, looking down into your arms and at the cat. "oh?"

suddenly, a crash was heard.

you fainted.

BAKUGOU'S POV

being a cat was so fucking annoying; first off, everyone wanted to touch me, and second off, i wouldn't even speak! all i could let out were aggressive hisses and stupid meows; don't even get me started with those god-embarrassing purrs. i felt like a fucking freak.

it's even worse that i scared my girlfriend so badly that she fainted. god, what if she hates me or, worse, breaks up with me? i'd kill myself.

initially, when she took me down to the floor with her, i was pissed, but when i noticed she wasn't moving and shitty hair was picking her up, i started panicking. which, obviously, the others took as me being jealous.

fucking idiots. in what world would i, bakugou katsuki, future pro hero, be jealous of that red-haired freak?

as i collected my thoughts, i felt y/n start shuffling on the nurse's bed under me. quickly, my hands paws kneaded at the soft, plush skin of her stomach.

she let out a groan at my movements, fingers slowly coming to pat my fur.

fuck, this was so weird.

"katsuki what are you doing?" her mumble slowly turning into a giggle as my teeth nipped her fingers.

"meow." was the best answer i could let out, and it pissed me the fuck off.

her hands cupped either side of my furry frame, pulling me up so i was resting on her breasts. thank god i was a cat; otherwise my 'embarrassment' at the current position would be clearer than day.

my cat nose infiltrated with the sweet aroma of her perfume. it was my favourite, the one that always had me on my knees. the woody fragrance had my tail swishing, tickling her skin, eliciting more giggles from her.

i could listen to her laugh every day. hearing it made me feel like i was a prince, lying in the flower garden on a warm sunny day with the love of my life beside me. it was the epitome of perfect.

this cat shit made me sappy as fuck, holy shit.

"oh you're up! the cause of your sudden fainting is nothing too serious; it's just a result of surprise by bakugou's current situation. would you like me to call in kirishima to help you get back to the common room?" recovery girl blurted out, kind of intimidated by bakugou's glare.

i hissed at the mention of kirishima. like hell id let him help her.

almost as if sensing my unease, y/n picked me up, cradling me in her arms. "i think im okay, thank you!" and with that, we were off.

BACK TO SECOND PERSON POV

finally nestled back into the poster-covered walls of your room, you collapsed on your bed. the sudden action caused the cat in your arms to yelp, flailing about.

"mm, sorry katsu," you said, softly grazing his head. 'woah he was so soft'

katsuki just stared at you, face softened and eyes bleary. "you know, i don't think i'll ever get used to seeing you as a cat. but you gotta admit, it's nice having you like this."

at your confession, he let out a quiet, but mean, meow. nipping at your shoulder blades.

"ouch! c'mon you know what i meant."

the two of you laid in silence for a few minutes, with the occasional sounds of purrs coming from the cat.

katsuki eyes slowly started feeling heavy, body relaxing on the comforter of your bed as he slowly drifted off to sleep. however sleep never came, the sound of a camera flashing jolted him wake.

quickly sitting up, he pounced on you, attempting to grab your phone. fortunately for you, you were faster. moving out the way, you used your quirk and let out pheromones, which made the cats actions slower.

"kats," you whined, feeling his rough tounge lick at your neck. he hissed, pawing at you as if to telling you to delete the photo. "i'm only keeping it for myself... and maybe for your mom- aak!"

the blonde persian cat continued fighting with you for the phone until he eventually gave up, realising he couldn't do anything while he was a cat.

you glanced at your cat/boyfriend/whatever-he-was, watching him pout and sulk. your heart couldn't help but melt as his appearence. he was so cute, even as cat.

as much as you loved being able to talk with your boyfriend, you found youself loving him as a cat even more. the irritated wails, the soft purring as you stroked his fur and the quiet nips of affection he'd randomly give. but it was also weird, you missed him. the real him.

sighing, you got up, placing him in your arms as you left your room to venture into the kitchen. "come on kitty, lets get you some food."

you received another nip at the nickname.

the trip to the kitchen was fairly quick, but what you hadn't expected was the others also being there. at the sight of you and katsuki, mina shot up immediately running towards you.

"y/n, you're okay!" she squealed, embracing you in a quck hug, crushing the blonde cat between the two of you.

"yrowl," bakugou whined at the sudden compression. you quickly moved away from mina, checking to see if katsuki was alright.

mina gave a sheepish smile, "oh... i forgot about him... sorry bakugou!" she chirped, before continuing. "actually, the girls and i were just talking and thought it'd be pretty cool if we could put bakugou in some clothes, momo already made a few." she rambled.

"oh, um... im not sure mina. i mean, i dont think katsuki would like that." the cat backed you up, letting out a quick meow, glaring at the pink girl.

"c'mon please~ it'd be so cute! we have an allmight cat shirt made for him." she pressed.

katsuki was now getting aggitated, maybe it was the cat hormones but he had the urge to run off and hide. he did not want to be here. and so, he did what he did best.

he leaped out of your arms, scratching mina's legs before running off. "ah, katsuki!" you exclaimed, running after the feline. "sorry mina, ill be right back," you yelled as you continued running.

that damn cat really knew how to run. he turned ever corner until he was at the door of his dorm room, scratching at it, desperately wanting to be let in. he heared footsteps behind him, quickly turning around and baring his teeth, only letting up once he saw that it was you.

sighing in relief that you had finally found your boyfriend, you picked him up, leveling his eyes to yours.

"katsuki, what the hell was that! you can't just run off randomly, you scared the hell out of me." you scolded, watching as his ears flopped down. "i get that this is new for you and you're struggling but come on; so am i. i'm trying my best to make sure you're comfortable so please, don't run off like that again."

to your words, katsuki let out a soft whimper, feeling bad that he caused you to feel this way. he slowly lifted up a paw, reaching out to ur face. you smiled at the action, no matter what body he could be in or what animal your boyfriend was; you were always able to read him.

"i know, i know. i'm sorry for dragging you with me to the kitchen, i didn't know the rest would be there, but for now, lets relax and maybe get you some sleep." you smiled, opening the door to his room, settling him on his bed.

for the next hour, the two of you basked in each others presence. you showed him funny tiktoks (to which he just meowed at), took pictures of him and sending them to his mom and of course, petting him.

turning to katsuki to show him another tiktok, you realise he'd fallen asleep beside you. a small smile crept it's way to your face as you looked at the kitty.

"cat or not, i love you so much katsuki." you whispered, placing a kiss onto his face, letting sleep take over you.

the following morning came quick as you shuffled in bed. you let out a small whine at the sun shining over your face. turning onto your side, your hand slapped something hard and hot.

"stop moving so damn much." the body besides you muttered, trapping you into his arms.

the voice made your eyes flutter open, staring at the boy with your mouth agape.

"kats, you're back to normal look!" you squealed, slapping his bare chest to wake him up.

a groan escaped his lips that made you feel things you probably shouldn't be feeling. "what are you talking about woman." he snarled.

giggling, you push yourself on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "kats, you were a cat for the whole day yesterday and now you're finally back to normal." sleepy katsuki was turly a cutie, he could barely even remember his own name.

katsuki finally opened his eyes, glancing down at his body and yours before letting up a huff. "fuckin' finally, i was getting sick and tired of being a dirty cat." he grumbled, but you knew he was just saying that.

"i'm glad you're back, but i'll miss being able to coddle you like a little baby." you whined, playfully pouting.

"damn woman, you already do that enough." he muttered, cheeks flushing at the memory of how you treated him.

you pressed a small kiss to his cheek, smiling up at him. "well i do love you more as a human, so a win is a win." you placed a soft, innocent kiss on his lips, to which he replied with wrapping his arms around your waist.

as the kiss began to get more heated, you felt something hard and wet poke onto your thigh.

"uh kats...?" you questioned, breaking away from his lips.

"what," he whined, chasing after you.

"um... are you naked?" silence filled the air at your question.

"..."

"..."

thats when he felt it too, the hard-on pressing onto both of your thighs.

"oh what the fuck!" he scrambled up, accidentally throwing your body off of the bed. "shit- sorry!" he yelled, wrapping his sheets against his waist, trying to save face after he'd just popped one out infront of you.

a roar of laughter filled the air at his expression. you just couldn't help it! he looked so ashamed of himself it had you rolling on the floor.

"okay, i get it. now shut the fuck up and get out so i can deal with this," he grumbled, a wave of heat flowing over his body at the situation.

"pfft- katsu, you're so easy." you laughed, getting up and placing another kiss on his sweet lips. "i'll leave you to deal with katsuki jr. if you need me, i'll be making breakfast." you teased.

"oh fuck off." he yelled, throwing a pillow at the door as you left.

katsuki might be back in his human form and you might miss his doting cat-self, but you knew, no matter how rough he was, he really loved you. and that was all that mattered.

© 2025 wonubby— All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

i miss his annoying ass

𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍

pairing: deaf!katsuki x gn!reader

warning: collage au, swearing, softsuki, pure fluff, all words italicized are meant to be spoken in sign language

notes: this might be my fave thing ive written so far

632 | Bakugou’s never needed words to tell you how he feels. The only problem?You never understand what he’s been saying.

Bakugou signs alot.

At first, you thought it was just muscle memory, like how someone might talk to themselves under their breath. He’d move his hands with sharp, purposeful flicks, his fingers quick and angry, like he was arguing with the air.

But he always signed to you.

You noticed it when he’d glance your way mid-conversation, hands spelling out something with too much intention for it to be coincident. You didn’t understand a word, of course, and he never explained himself. He’d roll his eyes or scoff when you asked. Saying something like figure it out if you’re so interested, but even with his dismissal— he kept doing it.

When he was annoyed with you, his fingers moved fast.

On the rare chance you made him chuckle, he’d sign something slow and subtle, hidden behind his dumb smirk and eye roll.

When he looked at you too long, he’d blink, sign, and look away.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when you finally decided to take a crash course in ASL at your campus library that the words finally started to come together.

“Thanks for saving my seat,” you said softly, placing your bag down beside him. He hums, nodding, red eyes never leaving your own and it’s enough to make your face heat. You’d always thought Bakugou was good looking, but for the longest time, you kept your distance. That is, until he showed up to the lecture one day reading one of your favorite books, and something about that felt like an opening. Since then, sitting next to him became a habit you looked forward to more than you’d admit.

Your other friends liked to joke that you’d worn him down. That you annoyed him into a friendship.

But every time you walked in and found his bag already nudged off the chair beside him, saving the seat just for you, it felt like the smallest kind of miracle.

He never said much about it. Never made a show of saving your space, but he did it every time.

Bakugou shrugged, his hands move fast. You look… tired?

You blinked. “Wait, I— did you say I looked tired?”

He froze. His brows furrow, eyes narrowed. A tiny break in the confidence that was so Bakugou it practically had its own gravitational pull.

“What the fuck," you heard him mumble. It makes you laugh.

He’s quick to sign again. You understood that?

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. “A little. I’ve been uh—“ You cut yourself off, your own hands coming forward. Learning.

Bakugou scowled, but his ears were tinged red. He signs again, how? you stalking me now?

“No,” you said, laughing. “I took some classes in the library. Besides you're the one who’s been talking at me this whole time. I finally decided to catch up.”

His hands lifted. It is then that the piece start clicking. If you had learned what he was saying than that means... his eyes narrowed.

What else have you seen?

You pause. Beautiful, he had signed once. You’re beautiful.

Another time: I like your laugh. It sounds like wind chimes. The words 'Wind chimes' was a hard one to figure out for sure.

Once: I wish I could kiss you without making things weird.

You shook your head gently. “Beautiful a couple times... but that's all I remember."

Bakugou exhaled sharply. That's all you remembered!? He's going to fucking explode, dear god. He can feel the heat traveling down his neck. His fingers twitched like he wanted to deny it, like he wanted to scream just to redirect the attention.

Instead, he groaned. Looking away before signing something slowly— hands pausing just enough to make sure you’d catch it.

I can help you remember the rest.

You smiled. Yes. I'd love that

Birthday sex (Bakugo x Fem reader)

Summary: For Katsuki's birthday you decide to give him the best possible start to his day.

____________________________________________ 🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤

Katsuki wakes up slowly and then all at once when he feels what you're doing.

You’re laying on your stomach between his legs taking him deep in your throat.

You pull your mouth away and stroke him while you talk.

“Good morning, Suki. Wanted to start your day out good.”

He looks at the black lingerie you're wearing and sucks in a breath.

Before he can say anything you suck the tip then take him again.

He groans and props up a little to watch you. He grabs your hair gently and lets you work.

“Fuck, baby.”

You take him deep in your throat and lock eyes with him. You pull back and swirl your tongue the way he likes.

Whatever you don't reach with your mouth you stroke with your hands.

His grunts and moans bounce off the walls as you work his cock.

"Fuck. Baby, I'm gonna cum if you keep workin' me like that."

You don't stop or slow down. You hollow your cheeks and take him deeper while he grips your hair.

You run your tongue across the thick vein on his cock and let him go with a pop before taking him as deep as you can without gagging.

"Ah- Fuck!" He grips your hair and bucks up into your mouth.

His release fills your mouth and you taste the salty slightly sweet taste on your tongue. You swallow it, slurping and drinking until he's finished.

“Happy birthday, Suki.” You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

His chest rises and falls while he tries to recoup. "You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

____________________________________________ 🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤

Notes: His birthday being on Easter is so funny to me. And every year it's 4/20 too. Expect some fun content. 🐰🐣 + 😙🍃 Also, please remember to comment if you want to be on the tag list. 🫶

won't you spare me another year ?

synopsis : you want to be the first person to wish your katsuki a happy birthday every year <3

an. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BOYFRIEND!!

cw. nothing, pure fluff!!! also fem reader!

"5..4...3...2...1...aaaand—happy birthday, katsuki !!"

katsuki groans sleepily as your arms tighten around him. "you're fucking insane. it's midnight."

"it's your birthday !" you defend quietly, pouting up at him. he looks down at you and chuckles.

"ya could've just let me sleep and told me that shit in the morning, would've still been m'birthday." he yawns, wiping his eyes. you shoot up to press a kiss to his cheek, leaning into his space more to kiss him all over while he pretends to try and push you off when you roll on top of him. you both ignore how he immediately goes to squeezing your hips when you settle on top.

"i could've, but then there would've been a chance i slept in too long and then i wouldn't have been the first one to wish you happy birthday."

"so my birthday's a competition now ?"

"yup. and i plan to be first every year." you giggle, he rolls his eyes but can't hide the smile growing on his face.

"clingy brat.." he mumbles, he kisses you back anyways when your lips reach his.

"you love me." you counter.

"mm, whatever." he waves off, grabbing the back of your head to bring your lips back to his. you squeal as he tries to deepen the kiss. "you're being greedy." you warn, lips smushed against his.

"s'my birthday, means i get what i wan’, right ? and since you're gonna keep me awake, could at the very least gimme a proper damn kiss." he says between kisses, it makes you laugh against his mouth and he smiles. when you pull away, you lean in to press a long, lasting kiss on the scar right below his eye. you can feel the way the muscles in his face drop and his arms tighten around you in surprise.

"happy birthday, katsuki. i'm glad i can spend another year with you." you whisper earnestly, looking down at him like he'd hung up the moon and the stars for you. unfortunately, it seems that was too much sincerity for your poor boyfriend. he squints, his massive palms enveloping your face to squeeze your cheeks.

"y-yeah, yeah. quit bein' sappy..." he huffs. you feel his thumb run against your bottom lip when he glances up at you, ears tinted pink as he quietly whispers out a "thanks...".

you don't need to say anymore, smiling as you lay on his chest. you hum "what do you wanna do for your birthday ?"

"stay in and fuckin' sleep." is his simple response, you can't help but snort.

"and nothing else ?" you look up at him.

he looks down at you "sounds like you got something you're hiding from me." he asks, suspiciously raising a brow.

you scoff, looking away "pffff, me ? no way..."you lie, your voice going airy.

you’re being grabbed by your cheeks in an instant and katsuki’s not deterred by your whining "you're a shit liar."

"i plead the fifth."

"plead my ass." katsuki scoffs, squishing your cheeks in his palm. "i hate being out of the loop on shit, you know that."

"would it kill you to not be a killjoy ? where's your whimsy ? your child's soul ?" you whine.

"whatever the fuck that means." katsuki snarks. you laugh again, and he rolls his eyes. "as long as whatever you got planned doesn't take up my whole damn day, then do what you want."

now it's your turn to roll your eyes "no need to worry, i won't be interfering with your plans to sleep in."

"our plans. you're not going anywhere." your boyfriend corrects.

"i have no say in it, do i ?" you tease.

he pokes your cheek. "nope. s'my birthday." he responds simply.

you laugh "you're using that as some sort of cheat code now ?"

when your laughter dies down he's still looking down at you. eyes, droopy with sleep sure, but with something soft inside of them. they glow illuminated by the light of the moon outside.

"what ?"

"nuffin." he sighs, still just looking down at you. his fingers run across your face, your cheeks and eyebrows and nose so softly, so unlike him (he of course has to take the opportunity to squeeze your nose, but you decide not to ruin the moment).

"yeah, right. c'mon what is it?" you urge. katsuki scoffs "so damn persistent." he reprimands. he shushes you when you remind him that "that's why you like me so much!"

"m'just..thinkin'."

"about..?" you wiggle higher up until you can kiss his chin. he sighs again , smiling to himself.

"about...this really annoying girl."

you glare up at him, he smirks. "oh yeah ?" you deadpan.

"oh, yeah. a real pain in the ass. always talkin' back to me and bothering me. planning surprises and other stupid things for my birthday every year. " he taunts.

you roll your eyes again "she sounds like a fun time. sounds to me like you just don't know how to have any fun." you grouch. katsuki laughs, of course he does, dickhead.

"yeah, well. as annoying as she is...she is a pretty damn fun time." he admits softly "real damn sweet too...probably too sweet for me.."

you look up at him in surprise. he squeezes your nose to avoid you and you swipe at his hand. he continues talking while you're distracted. "but i'm glad she chose to be with an asshole like me, and..." he leans down to press a peck between your brows.

"..and there's nothing else i'd like more for my birthday then to spend it with her again next year. even if we do lame, boring shit like staying in or doing whatever."

you feel your heart squeeze almost painfully tight. your cheeks pull up so hard you feel your jaw hurt, but you're so unbearably happy.

so unbearably happy you get to spend another year of his life with him.

you lean in to kiss him. "well, i don't know about her surprises, but mine's gonna blow your socks off. s'gonna make you cry like you did last year."

he scoffs, planting another kiss to your lips. "i didn't cry, dickwad. that's your mind making shit up." he denies.

"yeah, okay" you laugh, and with one final kiss you pull back to look at your love, with all the love you had for him. "happy birthday, katsuki."

and he smiles back, softly, and only reserved for moments like this with you.

yeah, it sure was. happy fuckin' birthday to him.

Bakugou works. A lot.

It was, admittedly, something you forced yourself to look past. Bakugou Katsuki warned you from the beginning that his work was first. It always would be, his dreams and goals, that was who he was.

“Take it or leave it,” he’d told you once, many years ago. “This is what I do.”

And back then, a fool completely head over heels for Katsuki, you’d take it. That was your life, too- texts that went unanswered for days, random updates about his day, calling maybe twice a week to see how you were, and you were fine to sacrifice that part of your sanity all those years ago.

But now, Kirishima posts the random flowers he got his partner on any random Wednesday. Midoriya’s hand clasped under the left hand of his fiancée’s on his timeline. Even Kaminari, who posts tangled legs of his person before he gets up to start the day. It makes you feel sick.

All you want, all you crave, all you’d sell for, is for flowers on any day. A wedding ring that would mean something. Tangled legs in the morning that beg and plead to stay in the warmth of the sheets.

But Katsuki has never been good at giving you that; he’s not a Prince Charming and his life is not a fairytale, you are not his number one priority and it fucking destroys you on the inside.

For years, you try to let it go, to no damn avail. It just hurts too much to think about for too long, knowing that nothings to change or give, and as long as your heart will love him, you’ll be right there waiting, and knowing not whether that love and excitement will always be returned.

But tonight, your dinner sits cold. One place setting untouched, unused and unloved, with your head resting on your hand as the rest of dinner is untouched. The steam stopped flowing from the plates hours ago, and you find yourself still sitting at the table. Your elbows grow sore from perching your chin in your palm.

Your lip quivers as you move to hang your head in sadness, hopelessness, until a knock rouses you from your wallowing. You wipe your eyes and make your way to the locked door, and smile at the guest on the otherside.

"Shoto," you sigh. "Here for your key?"

"Yes," he says simply, nodding his head in appreciation. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking care of the cats. It truly means a lot."

You raise your hand in an attempt to show nonchalance, "it's no big deal at all. I know how busy you get, it's the least I can do for such a good neighbor."

He chuckles, and you forgot how good the sound felt falling from someone else's lips. It feels like it's been ages since you've heard it. He nods his head again, "well, thank you again," he turns on his heel to start walking away.

"Shoto," you say. He stops in his tracks and turns to look at you. You fiddle with the door handle, "could I interest you in some cold dinner? I cooked for Katsuki, but he's not here and leftovers never get eaten in this house, and... I... don't mind reheating some for you."

A glimmer of sympathy crosses his eyes, offering a hum, "I would certainly appreciate the warm meal. Thank you."

It's not the guest you'd hoped, but you've had dinner with worse people. Todoroki's been in your life for longer than you care to remember, what's one more dinner shared together?

It's not like Katsuki is here to say otherwise.

Over a lukewarm, slightly-rubberized-from-microwaving dinner, Todoroki listens to you, holding onto every word as he always does when you speak. It feels nice to be heard again, to not be forced to talk to the walls of your home.

You're not sure how long it's been before the front door opens again, and you feel yourself tense up at the heavy boots crossing the threshold, a snarly "I'm home" ringing in the air.

"Hey," you call back. "Shoto and I were wrapping up dinner, I saved-"

"The fuck's he doing here?" He snarls, and Todoroki merely blinks, bored.

"Is it not friendly to drop in for some company?" He asks, and if you knew Todoroki any less, you'd never know it was his way of riling Katsuki up.

And it hasn't failed once.

Katsuki balls his fist, "not when I'm not fucking home, you freak!"

"Katsuki, enough," you snarl back. Two heads whip towards you, one set of eyes filled with fury, the other with surprise. “Maybe you should’ve been here when Shoto stopped by. This weird complex you’re in wouldn’t be a damn issue.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His words are a growl deep behind a wall of teeth, but you’re so tired it doesn’t deter you. You clench your hands and finally curl them into fists. “You got something to say to me?”

You grit your teeth, “Shoto's been here for how long? You haven’t. You wanted him out so bad? You should’ve fucking been here. You weren’t. So bite me.” You quickly spin on your heel as stinging tears burn your waterline, leaving the two heroes alone in the living room.

Katsuki barks your name, “we’re not done here!”

“I am.”

You purposely slam the door, knowing it’s one of his biggest pet peeves. He deserves it, and a lot more. Katsuki yells a bit more, too much of a ferocious tone to fully grasp what he’s saying, and it’s matched with Todoroki’s calm demeanor. He kicks Todoroki out, which you hear, and you brace yourself as he stomps into the bedroom, ready for the explosion that's hurdling straight towards you.

But it never comes.

Instead, you watch the bathroom door open and close, and then a few moments later, you hear the shower turn on. Confusion twists through your mind as you try to piece together just exactly what happened, but ultimately drawing only blanks. You sigh and strip into your pajamas, deciding to call it a night before he comes in and stirs the pot more.

He can do it tomorrow.

Though your heart does break a little when you wake up to find the bed next to you cold and made; he must’ve crashed on the couch last night, too enveloped with his fury to come and make amends.

That's fine. You're patient.

Sunday is tense, a day Katsuki usually reserves off to spend time at home, he's made the executive decision to go into work, leaving you to mourn the love lost in the day, love you usually receive in the melting day. Todoroki comes by again, this time to check in on you after the fight he'd witnessed the day before. And to your disappointment, Katsuki arrives home at the same time, briskly brushing past you and your friend.

Monday comes and goes, once again the bed next to you remains cold in wordless grudge. You're not going to apologize, you have no need to.

Even if this is the end of your relationship.

What's there to work through? After forcing you into a life where affection is miniscule and tokes of appreciation are seen as nothing more than an option, perhaps its for the best to let the embers die, and-

No.

You don't want it to be the end. Not like this. Not now. Not after years of giving Bakugou Katsuki your entire life, promising to stand by him through thick and thin.

You'll bite your tongue until it hurts. Until he decides what he wants to do. You're loyal as a dog to him, after all. The ball remains in his court, always.

By Tuesday, Katsuki comes in, and he doesn’t even look at you. He washes his hands before shambling off to the showers to mimic some form of warmth you’d once provided him. When you hear the shower head turn on, you curl deeper into your corner of the couch, lowering your eyes to try and fight back the tears that sting at your waterline.

Maybe he is done. Maybe this is it. He’s sick of waiting for you, sick of your shit and tired of the exhaust you put on his mentality. Work comes first, and if there was ever a time to enforce it, it would be now.

With a soft whimper to mask your cries, you click off the tv and creep your way up the stairs. It’s dark in your room, the pictures of you and Katsuki invisible until you flick on the light- even then, they’re not as pristine as they had looked just days ago.

The bed is once again cold and feels far too big as you curl up on your side, knowing if you roll onto his, you’ll be met with a hand waking you up and pushing you away.

You’re not in the mood for that tonight.

Not when for months at a time, he’s been shoving you away, be it with mean words or snaps of venom or just actually moving you from his space, you can’t possibly conjure the mood in your little pity party to care for him to disregard you in such brutal ways.

But fuck, god, no matter how much you want to believe it, that you can just as easily fall asleep without him next to you, snores punching through the air and the occasional lull of his head next to yours, you can't, and you hate how bitter and horrible a life without Bakugou Katsuki sounds.

You hate how your life revolves around him, and you wish it didn't, you hate how empty your soul would be without his name coming up on your phone, you hate that you fell so hard for Bakugou Katsuki that a life without him doesn't exist.

You'll never leave him. It makes you feel sick.

What you wouldn't sell, what you wouldn't give, to have Bakugou Katsuki love you just as much as you do, him.

But, as if manifested, no more than an hour later, he does come in. Your name falling from his lips sounds timid, like he's unsure if he should be saying it. "Listen," he snips, lip quivering as he sinks his teeth into the fat, eyes swollen from tears and looking so defeated you're almost convinced it’s not even the Bakugou Katsuki you fell in love with all those years ago.

You slowly sit up, curling up by the pillows as he stands in the doorway, disheveled and frustrated and extremely, clearly, hurt.

“You win,” he whimpers, hands cupped over his mouth to mimic a paper bag, regulating his breathing. They suddenly drop to the side, “you-you-you win. I can’t do this anymore, I won’t, I fucking give, you win-“

“Win what?” You ask, but it’s clear in your demeanor that you know exactly what he’s confessing to, even as you’re dazed from sleep.

You just want him to say it.

Katsuki uses his sleeve to roughly rub the tears out of his eyes, “just fucking stop, okay?” He growls, and it sends a shiver through you as it passes his teeth. “You fucking win, okay? I-I-I was wrong, I never should’ve said shit about you and Todoroki’s friendship, or said shit-fuck about you spending time with him when I should’ve been here.” He lets one, saliva filled sob sneak past his lips, it’s like a dam of words break loose. “But fuck, please just fucking look at me again, I’m sorry, I just hate the idea that you’ll fall for him while trying to get back at me, so please just love me again-“

At that, you jump up to your feet and quickly scurry over to him, brows furrowed in concern but lip pouting out as you toss your arms around him, his knees buckling under your touch and arms limply hanging. “-because I sure wouldn’t blame you if you did leave me for him after how I’ve been treating you.”

“Katsuki,” you soothe, a hand reaching up to scratch at his scalp. “That’s not going to happen. That’s not what this was to show you.” You plant kisses along his jawline, hating the feeling of it quivering under your affection. “This wasn’t to show you that my feelings for Shoto become more romantic when you’re not here; it was to show you what you were missing when you could’ve been here.” He slouches further at your words, and you wonder if they were the correct ones to say.

“Katsuki,” you say again, firmly, gathering his cheeks in your hands. They’re hot, fuck they’re so warm from his distress, and and you feel what little coolness your palms held disappear into the swells. “You’re not going to lose me to Shoto. I would never leave you for Shoto- I’d never leave you for anyone.” He blinks unconvinced at you, and one of his tears roll over your fingers. “But you will miss dinners. You will miss movies. You will miss time with me if you don’t stop only thinking of yourself in this relationship. What you’re doing now clearly isn’t meshing with what I need. What we need from each other. I can only be so flexible before I wonder when we’ll… when I’ll stop bothering.”

“I don’t want to stop,” he mumbles, trying to chase even more coolness in your palms. “I just… I want to be the best-“

“And you are, but you can’t betray yourself by overworking yourself-“

“No,” he bites through his teeth. “The best for you. But… Todoroki can give you the best shit effortlessly, I fucking see it. And…” he winces as he stands up, as if disgusted to even say what dares to slip past his tongue. “And he can give you the life you want, the life you deserve; I just cant fucking watch it anymore.”

“Shhh,” you soothe, pulling his reluctant form into a hug. He tenses, but eventually rests his head in the crook of your neck, trembling hands settling on your waist gently, as if scared you’d break under the touch. Your nails move up to his scalp, scratching lovingly.

“Shoto is a mild-mannered, quiet spoken person who thinks logically about everything he says and does,” You whisper, planting a soft kiss to his pounding temple.

“I love that about him, as a friend- but you, Katsuki, are exciting. And you make loving you just as addictive.”

He does, finally, perk up at that, and you smile against his skin. “Say more stuff like that,” he mumbles, sniffling, but you tighten your arms around him while you giggle softly at the idea of having your old Bakugo back.

“Shoto and I go to the market together, we’re in and out in twenty minutes tops- but if that’s what I wanted, I’d go alone,” he lets out a breathy chuckle, and you grin, “I like bickering with you in the dairy aisle about flavors of milk to get.”

“If I wanted chocolate milk, I’d get the syrup,” he defends, as if you’re standing in the aisle and not picking up the pieces of your relationship in your bedroom.

“And then when the milk is all gone, I have you bitching at me about the syrup getting wasted,” you snort. “It’s just easier if I get-“

“I love you,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning out over your neck. You pause and smile, relishing in the scent of his post-shower aroma.

“I love you,” you say back, kissing whatever your lips can reach against his head. “Once a week, Katsuki. I want to go to bed with you at least once a week, and not be left away absolutely panicked over where the hell you may have gone. I’d like to have dinner with you at some point in the week. I hate missing you, I always have, even when we were teens.” When he finally nods softly, you pull back with your hands cupping his cheeks, the swollen apples looking foreign on your usually solid man. You smirk and use your thumb to wipe his tears, “you’ve always been an ugly crier.”

He chokes softly on a laugh, “why do you think I never do it?” He licks his dry lips before looking you up and down, “leave that shit to you.”

“It is nice seeing you emotional over me for once.”

“Yeah?” He rasps. Then, he tugs you in for a kiss, one that sears and tears at your teeth and tongue, one that feels exhilarating and exhausting all at once, one that encapsulates Katsuki in one swift, dominating move.

It’s jagged and rough, but familiar enough to have you swooning in his bulky, caring arms.

“You got me in love with you, or some shit.”

All Mine｡°✩ Bakugou Katsuki

Masterlist ୨ৎ

is it normal for a tinder hookup to invite you to his birthday party? only one way to find out.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

Glitter 𐔌 𐦯 : happy birthday Katsuki!! you guys voted for this on the poll (Sorry if you were expecting smut... but I cringe at myself attempting to write it so suggestive is all you get), enjoy!

Warnings : VERY SUGGESTIVNESS so minors beware (nothing explict but still), Female!Reader, modernAU, aged-up, drinking, mention of drugs, classic Bakugou warnings

W/C : 3k

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[10:37 PM] B: you got plans tmrw

B is Bakugou Katsuki. The guy you've been enjoying lately. To say the least.

You met in the classic way—late-night Tinder, you feeling lonely and a little reckless. He had only one picture—a sharp jawline, messy blond hair, and not much else to go off. But he looked good. Really good. So, feeling lucky, you swiped right.

Match. Instantly.

He messaged first. You messaged back. Five minutes later, you were making plans to meet at a bar downtown. All you could hope for was that he wasn’t a catfish, and that getting dressed up wouldn’t be for nothing.

It definitely wasn’t.

You barely spent time at the bar. Most of the night was spent tangled up at your place. And that’s kind of how it went from there—he’d text, you’d text back. He’d come over, he’d leave. That was the thing. Sometimes you’d text first—on the nights you were feeling extra needy, craving hot hands and hungry lips.

You didn’t even know much about him. Just his name, his major, and the sounds he makes when he’s close. You didn’t think of him as much else. Didn’t let your mind drift into soft little daydreams about who he might be outside of your bedroom. What he was like with friends, what music he listened to, what kind of kid he was in high school.

Because Bakugou Katsuki didn’t seem like that kinda guy. There was nothing lovey-dovey about him. Just low curses and hard thrusts. 

So this message? Felt different.

For one—you never made plans. That wasn’t how this thing worked.Just heat-of-the-moment, spur-of-the-night kind of energy.

And two—it wasn’t even his usual type of text. He didn’t ask. He told. Normally, it was a blunt little “im comin over”—not a question, but something close to a courtesy. A way of saying: I’m giving you the out, if you want it.

You scroll back at your texts these past few months and see the same pattern over and over, this one sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest. 

[10:40 PM] You : idk. 

[10:40 PM] You : why

Does he notice the difference, too? The pause in your rhythm. The hesitation. Why does it matter if he does?

[10:42 PM] B : im having a party tmrw

[10:42 PM] B : or my flatmate is 

[10:42 PM] B : u should come

You stare at the screen for a second, not sure if you’re more confused or just… surprised. Not that it matters.

The read receipt doesn’t faze him. He doesn’t even wait for a response. Just sends the address, followed by a quick “starts at 7. let me know if ur coming and il order an uber.”

You don’t reply.

You don’t reply, because this isn’t part of the unspoken deal that you are familiar with. And maybe he just wants a pretty girl to stand near the drinks, someone to make the party pictures look good. Because Bakugou Katsuki is probably nothing more than an asshole. Probably. 

~~~

Maybe curiosity really does kill the cat. Because somehow, you decide to go.

You never reply to him, leave him to conclude that the silence means no, you idiot, I only want you for one thing. But against your better judgement, you pull something skimpy on and brace yourself for what's to come, because you are curious.

You want to see where he lives. Who he likes. What he looks like when he’s out of his element. You want to see if it all matches the version you've been playing in your head. The version you’ve carefully constructed while you’ve kept things simple, kept it just about the physical.

But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking you’re actually going to show up. So, you leave him hanging, go radio silent, and step out at 10 PM. Plus a glass of wine or two before you leave—just enough to make the shyness a little easier to ignore.

The alcohol burns nice in your veins… for a bit, until you’re standing outside the apartment door and the cold air cuts right through you, sobering you up fast.

At least you know it’s the right address, because you can hear the light thumping of bass and loud voices from out here (Not Bakugou’s though, but what would he even sound like loud, all you know is the low rough murmurs as he-). No turning back now. Not because you feel good about this decision, but because it’s freezing and your dress is doing absolutely nothing. So, you knock. Lightly.

And no one answers. Obviously. It’s a party, and half the people inside are probably too drunk or too distracted to notice. And none of them know who the hell you are anyway, so it’s not like anyone’s waiting at the door.

You check the handle. It turns. It’s open.

So, you step inside.

And it hits—hard. Like sensory overload dialed to ten. The place is decked out top to bottom, barely recognizable as a regular apartment. Streamers, lights, drinks in every corner. And before you can even take it all in, your eyes land on the handmade banner slapped across the wall: Happy Birthday Katsuki!

You don’t even need to ask. A quick glance around says it all—loud and clear.

There are old photos strung up along the walls, clipped to fairy lights that flicker unevenly. Most of the pictures are clearly from childhood—blond hair, scowling even as a toddler, surrounded by messy frosting and crooked party hats. One’s shows him mid-scream, cake all over his face. It’s kind of cute. Kind of surreal. Because this is his party.

It’s Bakugou’s birthday.

And he invited you to his birthday party?

You scan the room again, sharper this time. The place is crowded, but not enough to lose someone like him. And he’s not here. That heavy, sinking feeling creeps into your chest.

Maybe he invited someone else.

Maybe when you didn’t text back, he moved on, picked another warm body to fill the space. It wouldn’t be crazy. It wouldn’t be wrong. You don’t owe each other anything, and that’s the whole point of this thing—or at least it was. But still, the thought lands heavy, makes something sour churn low in your gut. Makes your throat go tight in that way you hate.

You swallow it down, hard.

You’re already halfway through turning around, ready to slip back out before you embarrass yourself any further, when a voice cuts through the noise. One you don’t recognize, but it says your name like it knows you.

It’s coming from a big, beefy redhead, cheeks flushed pink from alcohol, smile wide and boyish like he’s genuinely thrilled to see you. There’s this urgent sparkle in his eyes, and for a second you’re stuck wondering how the hell does he know your name.

“You’re here! Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he laughs, loud and booming and way too happy.

Before you can say anything, he’s placing a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder, “Hey, let me take your jacket. I’m Kirishima, by the way! Don’t think we’ve met yet.”

And you just… let him. Because honestly, you can’t think of anything else to do. You shrug your jacket off, hand it over, and he somehow manages to wedge it onto an already overflowing coat rack like it’s no big deal.

“Katsuki is…” he glances around, squinting into the crowd, “—well, I think he already snuck off somewhere. Classic. Gets sick of his own birthday halfway through every year.”

He laughs again, easy and fond, like that’s something everyone should know. Like you’re part of the group that gets Bakugou Katsuki.

And when it’s clear you’re not going to laugh with him—that you’re not in on the joke—he shifts, scratching the back of his neck, the flush on his cheeks deepening.

“Let’s get you a drink, yeah? Before Katsuki finds out you’re here and steals you away.”

Then he’s already turning, guiding you through the tangle of bodies toward the kitchen. You follow, trying not to overthink that last part. Steals you away. Like you’re some prize Bakugou might casually claim.

Does everyone think you’re just a body to him? And would that really be so bad… if it meant he’d picked you?

Fuck you need that drink. You toss the first one back the second it’s in your hand—barely tastes like anything, just cold and sharp. Kirishima lets out a loud laugh, already reaching to pour you another like it’s a challenge. As he talks, he’s all bright chatter—rambling about how annoying the setup was, how they almost didn’t get enough booze. He asks when your birthday is like it’s just part of the conversation, like none of this is weird.

He’s mid-sentence when someone interrupts—a blond, all pretty eyes and glazed-over smile, leaning in over Kirishima’s shoulder like he’s got zero sense of personal space. Drunk, maybe high. Definitely nosy, not that Kirishima seems to mind anyway. 

“Who’s the pretty girl, Ei?” he slurs, trying for a smirk that doesn’t quite land.

Kirishima just laughs, easily wrapping an arm around the guy to steady him. “This is Bakugou’s girl, bro. Back off.”

The blond seems as thrown by that as you are. Bakugou’s girl? Since when?

“Wait… I thought she wasn’t coming,” he frowns, looking a little too disappointed. “That’s why Bakubro was being extra mean to me today…”

You expect Kirishima to jump in with something. But instead, he just gives you this look—his brows raised slightly, an expectant glint in his eyes, like he's silently nudging you to explain yourself too. 

“Oh, um…” You twist uncomfortably under their gazes, feeling the weight of the attention. “I didn’t think I’d be able to, but… I am here now, so…” You shrug, the words feeling clumsy even to you.

Kirishima just watches you, his expression blank, and you get the sense that he’s not exactly thrilled with your answer—or with your whole last-minute appearance. Blondie, on the other hand, pouts deeper, his voice laced with a hint of teasing frustration. “Well, I would’ve preferred if you came before the beer pong… He was so aggressive with it…”. Kirishima gives the guy a playful pat on the head in response, a silent gesture that seems to acknowledge the comment without words.

This whole interaction has you itching to find Bakugou, to see why everyone’s been expecting you, why his flatmate seems annoyed by your absence. And, of course, to catch a glimpse of his handsome face too. “Where’s the birthday boy? I haven’t been here before, so…”

At the mention of Bakugou, Kirishima’s energy shifts, his enthusiasm returning like flipping a switch. “Let me show you,” he says, peeling Denki off his shoulder with a gentle but firm hand. “Denks, drink some water, okay?” Kirishima adds, his tone casual but with a hint of concern, before turning back to you to lead you back through the crowd. 

Eventually, Kirishima stops in front of a hallway door, turning back to give you a quick grin. “He’s probably hiding out in there,” he says, giving the door a casual knock. “Don’t be too shocked, though. He’s a little… cranky tonight.” He flashes you one last smile before turning and walking away, leaving you standing there at the door.

You push the door open, silently wishing you will either find him inside alone, or not at all. 

The room is dimly lit, the faint glow of string lights hanging lazily in the corners, old posters covering the walls. The scent of cigarette smoke lingers in the air, mixing with the faint buzz of the party from down the hall. Your eyes scan the room, searching for him, and that's when you see him: Bakugou, slouched in a chair by the window, arms crossed over his chest.

He doesn’t seem to notice you at first, too caught up in his own world. You can’t help but watch him for a moment, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens slightly as he breathes in. You hesitate for a moment, but before you can second-guess yourself, his voice breaks the silence.

"Didn't think you'd actually show," he mutters, his gaze still locked on the window, his tone rougher than usual.

"You didn’t tell me it was your birthday," you say, unmoving from your place at the door.

He doesn’t respond right away, his silence thick in the air between you. The seconds stretch on, but then, slowly, he turns to face you. His brow furrows, lips curling into something between a frown and a smirk, but it’s his eyes that catch you off guard. They’re wide, not shy, but hungry, tracing your frame with an intensity that makes the space between you feel smaller than it is.

"Come closer," he demands, voice low, almost challenging. "I want a better look at you."

You hate how easily you obey, the words pulling you forward like a magnet. Until finally, you’re close enough that the air between you feels thick, charged. His legs caging your own as you stand between them. 

He doesn't move, not yet, but you feel the weight of his gaze, steady and intense. And when his hands finally find your waist, it’s almost a relief. Almost. They tug you forward, pulling you down onto his lap with a quiet but unmistakable force.

You try to steady yourself, to regain control, but his grip tightens just enough to remind you who’s in charge here. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening at the feel of his body so close to yours.

"Is this how you like it?" His voice is rougher now, darker, a question more than anything else.

“You know how I like it.” 

He lets out a dry chuckle, the sound rough. "Damn right," he mutters, his hands sliding through your hair, fingers pulling roughly at your scalp, forcing your eyes to meet his. You hold in the quiet noise already threatening to come out from the treatment. 

"I was pissed when you didn’t reply," he says, his gaze burning into yours. “Told everyone my girl was coming, even helped Shitty hair with putting the decks up, got the good drinks too. But you didn’t show.”

His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you in just a little closer, the light scent of alcohol on his breath. "Do you always keep people waiting?" he asks, his voice rougher now, low and almost a growl. "Or was this just for me?"

You hate how his words vibrate through you, how you have to resist the temptation to press your legs together while spread out on his lap, refusing to let him feel the impact of his own words. “But what is it you want from me, Katsuki?” You breathe out, close enough now to see his eyes flash at the name change. “I thought this was just sex, and now you’re inviting me to your birthday party and getting pissy when I don’t show... Is meeting your friends part of the deal now, too?”

“You think this is just sex?” he says, voice rougher now, like he’s testing the words himself. “You think I don’t hate walking away every time? That I haven’t thought about just… staying? Not leaving for once. Keeping you.” A beat. “Keeping you as mine?”

Your breath catches.

“Katsuki… then why didn’t you just ask?” you whisper. “Instead of always running off.”

“Never the right fuckin’ time,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the side of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “You were always either sleeping or too fucked out to hold a conversation. And you... you sure know how to make a guy nervous Angel.”

You blink. “I make you nervous?”

His hand moves to the back of your neck, his grip tightening just enough to pull you closer, “You think I do this often?” His laugh is low, a little dry, but there’s a sincerity to it that catches you off guard. “I downloaded Tinder as a fuckin’ joke. But when I saw your face... couldn’t resist. And the second I had you? Casual was never gonna work for me.”

The weight of his words settles in your chest. You can’t look away, not when he’s watching you like that, like he’s been starving for this moment.

“But hey,” he says, voice dipping low, almost a murmur now. “If you don’t want more, that’s fine. I’ll still give you what you need.” His thumb traces your lower lip, a delicate contrast to everything else about him. “But I want all of it, Angel. I want everything you’ll give me.”

You stare at him, your voice steady despite the heat flooding your veins. “You think I’d be here if you hadn’t caught me too?” you say quietly. “I don’t get this pretty for just anyone.”

His expression shifts. The hunger softens into something warmer, heavier. Something like possession. “You better not,” he says, almost reverently. “You’re mine now.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

Your lips crash together, like they have a million times before, and then he’s picking you up and caging you on the bed underneath you. He dives into your neck, his lips trailing fire across your skin, a low, satisfied groan vibrating from his chest as he kisses you like a man starved. You gasp, trying to hold onto the moment, but you can barely keep your thoughts straight.

You laugh, a little tipsy on him more than the alcohol now. “Katsuki, wait—” You reach up to gently tug at his hair, trying to pull him back. “There’s like a million people in your apartment.”

He barely registers the comment, his hands already at your waist, pulling you closer. “Don’t care,” he mutters, ripping off his shirt with frustration, exposing his toned chest as he leans down to kiss you again.

“I care,” you protest weakly, though the excitement burning in you is undeniable. “I just met them… I want to leave a good impression.”

His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stares down at you. “Fuck that,” he growls, his hands tracing the curves of your body possessively. “The only person you need to be good for is me.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back a grin. “Yeah, sure, but I’d prefer not to be that girl at your party—”

“Angel,” he interrupts, voice full of mischief, “I’m the birthday boy.”

His breath ghosts over your ear, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

“Now…” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin, “let me open my present.”

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

general taglist 🏷️ : @cristy-101 @cielito--lindo @waterfal-ling

TWT PORN LINKS // SMUT‼️| Katsuki x f!reader !! Katsuki’s birthday special | ib: @missdynamighttt <3

“Y’like it when I stroke my cock between your ass like this hm? Fucking freak, should’ve known you’d be into this shit huh? Good fuckin’ girl..“

-

“What do you think you’re doing? You wanna make shit in my kitchen lookin’ like that huh? Lemme fuck that perfect ass while you cook babygirl..”

-

“Fuck.. so messy, good fuckin’ girl.. come on, it’s my birthday, right? Give me a good present my little slut hm?”

-

“God, I love these fucking tits so much, so soft. I just wanna leave marks and bite your pretty nipples.. Y’like that shit huh baby? Let me know you do..make those noises babygirl..”

-

“Mmm.. you’re so soft, you did this f’me? How sweet…let me suck on those sweet tits of yours while you ride my cock..baby girl..”

-

You’re thighs are so pretty, f..fuck..Y’like it when I fuck em’ like this hm baby?.. you’re pretty tits fit right in my hand mama.. fuck im about to cum all over you’re thighs baby, y’ready..mmm?

-

“Baby you’re so beautiful, you like it when I eat you out like this..hm? M’gonna eat you like my last fuckin’ meal babygirl, spread those perfect thighs more sweet girl, I need to taste you better. Y’like when I use my tongue like this y’slut? Speak with words not sounds baby.”

Thank you for reading + watching cuties 💕 Please do not steal, plagiarize my works~ ty baby <3 Happy Birthday Katsuki 🧡 

i will fall in love with you over and over again | katsuki bakugo x reader

summary:

Your quirk was meant to save lives, but with every revival, it slowly chipped away at your memories. Ochako smiled brighter, Deku lingered longer, and Katsuki stayed—always stayed.Even when you forgot his name. Even when you forgot him.

warnings: major angst, memory loss, spoilers!

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The first time it happened was when you revived Katsuki’s deceased cat.

You were children then, barely old enough to understand the weight of life and death. But when he found you crouched by the creek, his small hands trembling over the lifeless body of his beloved pet, his voice was already hoarse from calling your name.

“Please,” he choked out, red eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Do it. Just…just bring her back.”

You stared at him, uncertain. The raw desperation in his voice made you second-guess whether this was really the same Katsuki who shoved you off swings and tugged on your pigtails.

But his voice cracked again, and you gave in.

Tiny hands trembling, you knelt beside him, fingers brushing against the cat’s cold fur. You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t know if it would work. You were too young, too inexperienced but the light of your quirk flickered faintly between your palms.

And suddenly, she stirred.

Just for five minutes.

The cat let out a weak meow, nuzzling into Katsuki’s trembling hands. His chest hitched with a choked sob as he cradled her, burying his face in her fur.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay, girl,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He hugged her tightly, arms curled protectively around the frail creature.

And when the light in her eyes slowly dimmed once more—her small body going limp in his arms—he pressed a final, tear-soaked kiss to her head.

Then he turned to you.

Without a word, he threw his arms around you, clinging to you as though you were the only thing anchoring him to the earth. His fingers fisted the back of your shirt, shoulders trembling violently.

But your eyes were dull.

Blank.

Who… was this again?

Your fingers twitched faintly at your sides, your gaze vacant as you stared over his shoulder. There was warmth against you—the faint dampness of his tears soaking into your shirt. But you felt nothing.

When he pulled back, his red, swollen eyes searched yours.

“You okay?” he asked softly, voice cracking slightly.

You blinked slowly. Tilted your head faintly.

“…Huh?”

Confusion flickered briefly across his face, but it was gone in an instant. He forced a shaky grin, nudging your forehead with his.

“Idiot,” he muttered hoarsely, ruffling your hair. “You look wiped out.”

But the faint crease between his brows lingered. And he stared at you a little longer than before.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Over time, Katsuki learned the cruel price of your quirk.

How ironic.

The ability to heal and revive—the very embodiment of hope—was also your slow undoing. A power so heroic, yet its cost so merciless.

In order to save someone, you had to lose pieces of yourself. Slivers of your heart. Fragments of memories you once held dear.

And Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder—once you were pushed to the limit, would you forget everything?

Would you forget him?

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Izuku’s body hit the ground with a sickening thud, sending dust and pebbles scattering across the broken bridge. His fingers scraped along the jagged pavement, knuckles bloodied from the fall.

He groaned softly, clutching at his shoulder as he slowly pushed himself up.

“Dammit…” he hissed through clenched teeth, wincing at the sharp sting pulsing through his arm.

But before he could rise, you were already by his side.

“Don’t move, Izu.”

Your voice was light, a soft, reassuring hum as your hands hovered over his injuries. A faint golden glow flickered between your trembling fingers, spilling warmth over his torn skin. Slowly, the bloodied scrapes faded—the broken bone mending beneath your touch.

Izuku sucked in a sharp breath as the pain dulled, his muscles loosening slightly.

But instead of relief, his chest tightened.

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist before you could continue.

“You shouldn’t use your quirk in times like this.” His voice was low but firm, his green eyes narrowed with concern. “You know how it affects you, (N/N). I can handle myself just fine.”

You forced a sheepish smile, brushing him off with a lighthearted laugh.

“Don’t worry, Izu!” you chirped, your voice too bright—too forced. “This is just me practicing for when I become a hero… I have to get used to it someday, don’t I?”

You meant it as a joke, but the faint quiver in your voice gave you away.

Because even now, you could feel it—the subtle sting behind your eyes, the faint disorientation creeping in at the edges of your mind.

It was happening again.

But you pretended not to notice.

“Idiot.”

The sharp voice came from behind you, laced with unmistakable irritation.

You barely had time to turn before Katsuki’s shadow loomed over you, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His voice was low, cutting, but you caught the faint tremor in it.

“The dumbass is right,” he muttered, jerking his head toward Izuku. His crimson eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t waste your efforts on shit that can be fixed easily.”

You blinked at him.

And before you could say anything, Izuku let out a low, incredulous scoff.

“Wait—did you just agree with me?” he asked, staring at Bakugo with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Bakugo’s scowl deepened instantly. His glare snapped toward Izuku, eyes blazing with irritation.

“Shut up, dumbass!” he barked, fists clenching slightly at his sides.

Izuku’s lips parted slightly, brows knitting faintly in surprise. But then—just barely—he smirked.

“You agreed with me,” he taunted softly, his voice deliberately teasing.

Bakugo shot him a withering glare, his jaw clenching sharply. His hands twitched, sparks crackling faintly at his palms.

“Say it again and I’ll throw your nerd ass off this bridge.”

But Izuku only grinned wider, his eyes glimmering with barely concealed amusement.

And even as the two bickered—hurling threats at each other with all the ferocity of childhood rivals—you knew.

You could see it in the way they lingered close. The way they subtly kept their bodies angled toward you. The way their eyes kept flickering back—searching, wary, worried.

Because they both cared.

And you smiled softly, even as the edges of your mind blurred slightly. Even as you knew you were losing another sliver of yourself.

But you didn’t say a word.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The use of your quirk became more frequent as the three of you entered U.A. The missions grew harsher. The battles bloodier. And with them, so did the people who worried for you.

You were stronger now. Sharper. Your control over Reverie was improving—you could heal faster, revive longer. You were starting to master it, refining the edges of your power with each mission.

But the cost remained the same.

The memory loss never left—it simply grew quieter, more patient. Lurking beneath the surface, gnawing at you slowly.

It would take everything eventually.

You knew it.

And so did they.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Your hands shook faintly as you pressed your palms over the woman’s bloodied chest. Her breath was shallow, fading fast, but you didn’t stop.

Golden light flickered from your fingertips, mending the torn skin, sealing the wound. You poured every ounce of strength you had left into her frail body, coaxing her pulse back to life.

You felt your quirk pulling at you—taking from you. You could feel it in the sharp sting behind your eyes, in the dull ache spreading behind your temples.

When you pulled back, the woman’s chest rose steadily, color returning to her face. She clung to your hand, her fingers trembling as she murmured a tear-soaked, broken “thank you.”

You smiled faintly.

And then you staggered, vision tilting slightly. Your knees threatened to buckle, the weight of exhaustion making your limbs heavy and sluggish.

A faint warmth trickled down from your nose.

Blood.

You stared at the crimson droplets falling onto your trembling hands. It took you a moment to register what was happening.

“Hey—hey!”

Ochako was by your side in an instant, her hands gripping your arms tightly, steadying you. Her brown eyes were wide, round with worry as she stared at the blood smeared across your upper lip.

“(N/N), you’re bleeding!” Her voice was tight, barely above a whisper. “You need to stop—”

But you shook your head, a weak, lopsided smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m okay,” you rasped softly, forcing a breathless laugh. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you still smiled. You lied.

Ochako’s brows furrowed deeply. You could see the tremor in her hands as she cupped your face, wiping the blood from your lip with the edge of her glove. Her hands were shaking.

“Please, just rest,” she begged softly, her voice breaking slightly.

But you didn’t.

You carried on with the mission.

Despite the dizziness threatening to pull you under, despite the way your hands trembled faintly, you didn’t stop.

You pressed your bloodied hands against another fallen civilian’s chest, reviving them for five fleeting minutes.

Enough time to let their loved ones say goodbye.

You moved onto the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Because they deserved their goodbyes.

And if it meant sacrificing another sliver of yourself, you would do it without hesitation.

The man’s sobs echoed through the broken city street, his knees hitting the cracked asphalt with a hollow thud. His arms trembled as they clung to the small, lifeless body in his lap, the delicate frame of his child. Her limbs hung limp, eyes half-lidded, robbed of their light far too soon.

You had brought the child back with your quirk, just for five minutes. Enough time for the father to say goodbye.

But when she awoke, she screamed.

And the father, through tears, held her anyway.

“It’s okay… I’ve got you,” he whispered, rocking her as if he could shield her from the agony she was reliving. “Daddy’s here. I’ve got you, baby.”

The girl’s cries faded into broken gasps. She stilled in his arms before slipping away once more. Cold and lifeless.

You staggered backward, legs trembling beneath you. Something sharp cracked behind your eyes, a splintering sensation as if a fault line had split in your skull.

The world turned blurry.

When you blinked again, the sobbing man was a stranger. The charred street, unfamiliar. You stood there, lost in the very place you were supposed to save.

Katsuki’s voice cut through the fog.

“Hey! Hey, look at me!”

His voice was rough, sharp with urgency, but his hands were steady as he grabbed your face, thumbs pressed to your cheeks, grounding you.

Your eyes were unfocused, glassy with confusion. You didn’t know where you were. Who you were. But his voice was loud. Familiar. Real.

“Focus, dammit.” His forehead pressed against yours, sweat-damp hair clinging to his skin. His breath was uneven, but his voice was steady. Low. Rough. “It’s me. Come on, (N/N). Stay with me.”

And just like that, you were back.

Your chest heaved sharply, a gasp catching in your throat as your mind slowly pieced itself together. Your name. Your quirk. Your mission. His voice.

Bakugo held you in place for a moment longer, his grip firm but careful. His breathing was shaky against your temple. And when you looked into his eyes, wide with something raw and fragile— he was scared.

He almost lost you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Then it started becoming more evident as you became the intern of a hero that owned a hospital. As her intern, you were tasked to heal patients, and if you were given the permission to, revive a patient for five minutes so their loved ones could say farewell. The heroine you were interning for, Lady Sakuko, knew the limitations and didn’t want to risk you and so you stuck with healing.

But some families begged you.. And you couldn’t say no.. It was cruel to do so.

And so you paid the price.

It started with training exercises. Lost memories slipping through your fingers. Sometimes it was minor, a name you couldn’t place, a route you couldn’t recall. Sometimes it was bigger.. Fading details of your past, faces you swore you knew but couldn’t recognize.

Your childhood best friend, Izuku, noticed first.

You were in the common room when he passed you a glass of water, his green eyes soft with concern.

“Hey, you okay? You kinda zoned out earlier.”

You stared at him blankly. “Huh? When?”

He hesitated.

“During training,” he murmured gently. “You didn’t dodge when I called your name.”

You blinked slowly at him, confused.

You didn’t remember.

His eyes softened with worry, but he forced a bright smile, brushing it off with a chuckle.

“Maybe you were just tired,” he said lightly. But the concern in his eyes lingered, even when he turned away.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You didn’t remember your favorite cafe

Ochako suggested stopping by after classl. Her voice was bright, casual, trying not to sound worried.

“Hey, wanna grab those cream puffs you like? You always get that matcha latte too.”

You blinked at her, confused.

“What café?”

Her smile faltered slightly.

“You know… the one by the park? You love that place.”

But you didn’t remember.

You stared at the tiny shop across the street, its warm glow spilling out onto the pavement, but it meant nothing to you. No familiar scent. No sense of nostalgia.

Ochako covered it quickly, her voice bright and casual.

“Oh! Maybe I’m mixing it up with someone else’s fave,” she laughed lightly. “Wanna check it out, though?”

You nodded absently, but you could feel her gaze lingering on you the entire time.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You can’t sleep.

The rooftop is cold, the wind nipping at your skin, but you don’t move. You stare out at the city, its flickering lights blurring faintly at the edges of your vision.

You hear footsteps behind you, heavy and familiar. When you glance over your shoulder, you expect to feel a flash of recognition.

But you don’t.

The blond boy strides over with his hands in his pockets, his eyes sharp beneath furrowed brows. His presence is strong—almost too much. He carries himself like he owns the entire sky.

He stops beside you, eyes narrowing slightly. “You didn’t go to your café today.”

You stare at him blankly. You don’t answer.

He turns toward you fully. His voice lowers. “What café?”

His crimson eyes falter ever so slightly. His knuckles go white in his pockets.

For a moment, neither of you speak. Then, he scoffs faintly.

“Tch. It’s a shitty place anyway,” he mutters. “Too sweet.”

You don’t know why, but your chest aches.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The hospital wing is too small.

Cots are pressed against every wall, medical supplies scattered haphazardly across tables. Blood stains the once-white sheets. The air reeks of antiseptic and scorched flesh.

You sit by the cot of a fallen soldier, his blood pooling onto the sheets, soaking through the thin fabric. His eyes are glassy—vacant. His fingers twitch once, and then still.

“Please…” his wife whispers from the other side of the cot. Her voice is thin, trembling. “Please, save him…”

You don’t hesitate.

Your hands, slick with blood, press down on his chest, trembling as the familiar warmth of your quirk pulses through your fingertips. Light spills from your hands, golden and dim, sinking into his ruined flesh.

He gasps sharply. His eyes snap open, and he screams.

You don’t flinch.

You hold his hand as he thrashes violently, as his body relives every wound he has ever suffered. As he sobs and clings to his wife’s trembling arms. As she cries and holds him, even as he begs for it to stop.

Five minutes.

You stay with him until he goes still again. His wife kisses his cooling lips, her sobs raw and broken. She holds him close, even though he is cold.

You slowly stand, legs trembling. Your head throbs violently, and your vision briefly tilts sideways. Your hands shake so violently you barely manage to wipe the blood from your cheek.

“(N/N)!”

You don’t register the voice at first. The words are muffled, distant, until a pair of arms suddenly wrap around you.

Ochako.

You blink slowly, trying to focus on her face, but her features swim and blur. For a brief, disorienting moment, she is a stranger.

Her hands grip your arms tightly, her voice trembling. “You’ve been overworking yourself at the hospital… (N/N), you should remember to pick who you revive. You can’t save all of them.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “But I can.”

Her eyes burn with tears. She shakes her head weakly. “And it’s taking a toll on you!” Her voice cracks as she tightens her grip. “You’re my best friend, (N/N)… I know that it’s selfish… but sometimes… people go.”

Her voice breaks on the last word.

You just stare at her, your breath shallow. You want to hold her. To promise her you’re fine.

But you don’t.

Because you can’t remember if you are.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You’re slipping.

You can’t remember your name. You can’t remember the mission. You can’t remember why you’re here.

But you know you need to keep moving.

Your legs shake as you stumble forward, your body screaming in protest. Each step feels heavier, each breath shallower, but you don’t stop.

You press your trembling hands to the bodies littered across the battlefield, summoning every ounce of power left in you.

You revive them.

Again. And again. And again.

You don’t think. You don’t breathe. You just do.

And then you find him.

His body is crumpled against the ground, blood pooling beneath him. His gauntlet is cracked, sparking faintly with remnants of his quirk. His hand lies slack around the grip. His eyes are closed.

You don’t know who he is.

But your heart shatters.

You fall to your knees beside him. Your fingers tremble violently as you press them against his chest. His blood seeps into your skin, warm and sticky, but you don’t care.

You don’t understand why you’re crying. You don’t know why it hurts so much.

But it does.

Your hands shake so violently you can barely summon the light. It flickers faintly at your fingertips, sputtering weakly. You’re too far gone. You barely have anything left.

And still, you pour everything into him. Every drop of strength, every broken piece of yourself, every memory you don’t even have anymore.

“Please,” you choke softly, voice cracked and trembling. “Please, just… come back.”

You’re not sure if you’re speaking to him, or to yourself.

You press harder, ignoring the searing pain in your arms, the tremor in your shoulders. Your vision blurs with tears you don’t understand, spilling hot and fast down your cheeks.

And then he gasps sharply, his eyes flying open with a sudden, broken breath.

You let out a strangled sob.

His chest heaves with shallow, ragged breaths. His eyes—crimson and glassy—flicker hazily to you, unfocused and wide with confusion. Blood clings to his lips, his skin pale from blood loss.

But he is alive.

And then you smile.

Tears slip down your cheeks, your eyes blurry, but you smile anyway. You let out a shaky, broken laugh, soft and breathless—because he’s breathing.

Your trembling fingers brush over his blood-matted hair, pushing the damp strands from his face. Your hands linger, trembling faintly against his skin.

You stare at the face you don’t recognize.

But somehow, somehow, it still feels familiar.

Your voice is barely above a whisper, soft and fragile, breaking faintly over the words.

“I think I loved you before.”

Bakugo Katsuki allows himself to cry.

Because you still do.

Even if you don’t remember.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The war was over.

The scars it left behind were not.

U.A. slowly stitched itself back together. The halls were quieter now. The seats emptier. The classrooms once filled with voices and laughter now carried a somber stillness.

But you were alive.

And so were they.

You sat by the window in the classroom, the sunlight spilling weakly across your desk, warming your hands. The soft murmur of your classmates lingered faintly around you, their voices dull and distant. You watched them quietly. The way they moved, the way they smiled, the way their hands trembled slightly when they thought no one was looking.

They were familiar strangers.

You knew their names because they told you. You knew their faces because they showed you old photos. You knew their stories because they sat beside you and spoke softly, laughing through their tears, hoping you would remember.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

No matter how hard you tried, it was all blank.

You stared down at your notebook, the lines empty. The words wouldn’t come. Your fingers trembled slightly against the pen, your chest tightening with something sharp and suffocating.

You clutched the pen harder.

And then you heard someone sniffle.

You glanced up, eyes widening slightly.

Ochako sat beside you, her hand pressed to her mouth, trying to stifle the small, broken sound. Her eyes were red, tears clinging to her lashes, falling despite her best efforts to hold them back.

You blinked slowly, confused.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly, your voice cracking faintly. Your eyes flickered around the room. Izuku, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, trying to smile for you. Kirishima, clenching his jaw as his hands fisted faintly on his desk, his knuckles white. Mina, her face buried in her arms, shoulders trembling softly.

And then you looked at Katsuki.

You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t look away.

There was no pain on his face. No tears. No trace of sadness.

Just tenderness. Raw and steady.

You stared at him with so much love, like your heart remembered what your mind had forgotten. Like somewhere, in the hollow of your chest, you still knew him.

And you tried so hard.

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to remember—to claw through the blank spaces, to tear through the fog—desperate to find even the smallest flicker of a memory.

But nothing came.

Just empty, aching silence.

You pressed your palms against your eyes, your shoulders trembling slightly. A broken sob caught in your throat, and you shook your head sharply, voice small and broken.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out softly. “I’m so sorry. I—I can’t remember. I—”

You covered your face with your hands, hot tears slipping between your trembling fingers. You tried to stop them, tried to breathe through the suffocating weight in your chest.

“I’m trying so hard,” you whispered shakily. “I want to remember, I do. But I—I can’t. I can’t remember any of you.”

Your voice cracked painfully as you lowered your hands, your eyes desperate and glassy. You clutched the fabric of your shirt over your chest, knuckles pale from how hard you squeezed.

“And I’m so sorry…” your voice broke completely, trembling and raw, “for forgetting you.”

And then you felt warmth.

Arms wrapping around you.

Steady. Strong. Familiar.

You felt Katsuki’s hands cradle the back of your head, his fingers slipping into your hair, holding you gently against his chest.

Your trembling hands fisted weakly into his shirt, clinging to him, your tears soaking into the fabric. You shook faintly in his arms, and he just held you tighter.

He pressed his lips softly against the crown of your head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice rough and low, but gentle. “You don’t have to remember.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face deeper into his chest, tears falling freely.

He stroked your hair softly, his voice breaking faintly as he held you closer.

“We’ll just make new memories together.”

You hiccupped softly against him, and his arms tightened faintly around you.

“We have time,” he murmured against your temple. “We have forever.”

And so you broke completely in his arms.

Because even if you didn’t remember who he was, you still knew him.

THE END.

-Happy B'day Katsuki Bakugou !!!!! 🧨💣-

°• 20/04 •°

Happy Birthday Katsuki!!! 💥🎉

Dry humping with Bakugo for the first time but reader is shy

You and katsuki have been dating for about four months now, but you guys haven’t really gotten intimate with each, the furthest being a steamy make out sesh.

But you didn’t want to just make out.

…

You were at Bakugo’s dorm watching a movie all cuddled up, you glance up at him but he seems to be too engrossed in the movie playing to notice.

You were bored and wanted some attention from your boyfriend but didn’t know how to ask.

You sigh Unintentionally, causing Bakugo to look down before him saying “Tch what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing”

He knew you were lying Bakugo wasn’t stupid, he knew you wanted some attention it was written all over your face. He noticed how many times you looked up at him, your eyes full in hopes he’d notice you.

He lets out a breath before pulling you into his lap

“Is this what you wanted hm? Some attention?”

He mumbles kissing down you neck, before coming back up and attacking your lips.

You lean into the kiss before opening your mouth slightly hoping Bakugo would take the invite- which he did.

But you needed more.

Both your hands met up and tangled their way into Bakugo’s hair earning a groan from him. God it turned him on when you did that.

Still needing more you grind your hips down onto Bakugo, him bucking his hips slightly at the contact, causing you to whimper.

God it felt good. You grind down on his again before slightly pulling away from the kiss

“I-is this ok?”

“Obviously dumbass” he says kissing you again mumbling into your lips “wouldn’t let you if it wasn’t”

His hands roam over your body before meeting at your waist guiding your hips along his, creating a steady rhythm.

You apply more pressure which causes you and Bakugo to moan in sync.

“Feels good” you manage to let out, Bakugo moving down to kiss your neck leaving little marks all over.

“Tch obviously” he says into your neck his hot breath sending shivers down your spine

The friction was driving both you and Bakugo crazy.

“Think I might cum like this pretty girl” Bakugo says pulling away from your neck and staring directly into your eyes, watching as you get nervous never really being able to hold eye contact with him.

You turn red hot, embarrassed, you look down at where your hips met with his watching as you grind yourself down, Bakugo’s hips bucking up at yours.

His hardness is prominent. He grabs your face forcing you to look at him-

“Getting shy on me hm?”

He says a smirk plastered across his face.

You start to grind your hips faster and harder against his, whimpering slightly, that feeling building up in your stomach.

Bakugo noticed. Of course. How could he not?

“You close baby? You gonna cum for me?”

He words send you over the edge, you throw your head back moaning as you come undone.

Bakugo thrusts up, chasing his high, your pretty moans and whimpers sending him over the edge.

Once you come down from your high you glance down at Bakugo who is already staring at you with his casual smirk.

“Enjoy yourself? Is that what you wanted hm?”

You nod looking away shyly earring a chuckle from Bakugo.

“Look at the mess you made me make baby”

You look down and sure enough, you see the wet patch from his orgasm. You turn a bright red shade which Bakugo finds adorable.

“We are gonna do that more often baby.”



Explosions in the Rain - K. Bakugo

When you were four years old, you were physically Katsuki Bakugo’s greatest pain in the ass.

Your Quirk was Precipitation, which allowed you to control and manipulate water, but specifically water from the atmosphere or the air around you, such as the rain. For as long as you could remember, whenever Bakugo created those annoyingly loud and intrusive explosions of his, you would also gather the water particles in the air around you and drop water at his hands to stop the explosion. You effortlessly pissed him off to no end, especially when you would always stop him from bullying Izuku.

He hated it; how you got so used to stopping him from creating his explosions to the point where you could even predict when, where, and how he was going to use them. You read him like a book, and he despised it. He despised how well you knew him, despised how perceptive you were despite only being four and the same age as him, and despised how you made him feel weak.

When you were twelve years old, you were mentally Bakugo’s greatest pain in the ass.

It’s already been established for the past eight years that you had grown completely and utterly familiar with Bakugo and his Quirk. But twelve was a difficult age for everyone; most people were entering puberty, it was the time of inexperienced preteens doing things that they will regret later in life, and most people began to understand their crushes.

Bakugo wasn’t most people. When his heart raced whenever you spoke or bickered with him, he assumed that he was just getting adrenaline from “winning” the argument (he usually always lost in the end). Whenever his face reddened when you accidentally brushed his hand or touched him, he just assumed that he was angry. Whenever you defended Izuku from Bakugo, he always assumed that he was pissed because of the sole fact that you were defending Deku of all people.

When you were sixteen years old, you were supposedly Bakugo’s greatest pain in the ass.

You were both first years at UA, and despite your constant arguing, name calling, and childlike behavior with each other, everyone always assumed at first meeting that you were both dating but just had particularly strange ways of showing affection. They had even spread rumors that you were both dating--although you were both used to it, as the same thing used to happen in middle school.

You both denied those rumors, although deep inside of Bakugo’s heart, he did want those rumors to be true. However, even with the knowledge from the both of you that the rumors were false, most people still assumed that you were both in love. After all, you both always looked for each other during a villain attack and stuck to each other’s side. No one will ever forget just how fragmented your mental state was when Bakugo was kidnapped by the League of Villains, and how you cried when you and a few others managed to get him back.

When you were seventeen, Bakugo realized that you were never his greatest pain in the ass, but his greatest soft spot and weakness.

How absolutely heartwrenching your scream was when he basically died. How he felt his soul leave his body when you saw you bloody and unconscious. How he held you close when the war ended and you both narrowly survived.

And finally, finally, he realized that all this time, he never despised the feelings you gave him. He adored it, and he began to relish in it. The red on his cheeks and how you held his heart in your hands and never once dropped it. How he loved you.

When you were twenty-two years old, you truly became Bakugo’s greatest weakness.

Or perhaps we should change how we address him to Katsuki, as Bakugo is now also your last name.

The cold golden ring against your finger was a small yet impactful sensation, enough to make you tear up. You’ve always dreamed of this day, of getting married to the one you loved most. And standing right in front of you at the altar was your dearest Katsuki, who you refused to allow to wear makeup to cover up his scars. “Today, we are here to celebrate the knot of two wonderful young souls…” the priest began.

As the priest finished his long speech, Katsuki leaned in, and right before he kissed you, he muttered something. “You know, growing up, you were my biggest pain in the ass.”

“Same with you.” You murmured, chuckling breathily. His eyes softened before cupping your cheek with a calloused hand.

“I’ll love growing old with you just as much as I did growing up with you. I love you.”

He kissed you after those words, and finally, you eternally became Katsuki’s greatest weakness.

This was made on a whim, and this is also my first time ever writing for MHA…do tell me what you think of this lmao

yapper reader x listener katsuki

notes: grumpy x sunshine also. basically just yap yap yap reader and bro stfu katsuki. based on some prompt i remember seeing forever ago. deviating from my usual 'reader and katsuki childhood friends go to ua tg' bc this is such a cute idea

the field is buzzing, students from different hero schools gathering in small groups and instructors calling out over the noise generating quite the racket. there’s tension, excitement, and a bit of rivalry in the air. class 1-a stands off to the side, eyes scanning the new arrivals. bakugo stands isolated from the group with his arms crossed, mouth already in a deep scowl.

he hates group exercises. hates surprise training simulations. hates-

“katsuki!!”

and then it happens.

a blur comes flying in from the other side of the field. he hears it before he sees it, and by the time he turns his head, it’s too late. you launch yourself at him from behind, tackling him in a full-body hug that actually makes him take a step forward. his body tenses immediately, hands twitching instinctively like he might throw you off-

but he doesn’t. he would never.

“kats! kats!” you giggle, climbing halfway up his back like he’s your personal jungle gym. you hook your chin over his shoulder, big goofy grin stretching across your face as you hug him tight. “hi!!”

there’s a long pause. bakugo doesn’t move. doesn’t shout. doesn’t blow anything up. the whole world stills in suspense.

eventually, he sighs, a hint of a not-angry expression present on his face. "hi."

“uh… are we… seeing this?” kirishima says under his breath, eyes wide.

“kats, i swear, it feels like it’s been forever since i’ve seen you! i mean, seriously, how is it that we’re both doing this hero thing and still barely getting any time to hang out? it’s like the universe just hates us or something. i’ve been stuck in this crazy hellfire intensity training like all week, and it’s not even the fun kind, it’s just endless drills and lectures and like ugh ohmygod, i’m so over it. anyway, i missed you kats!! how are you? healthy? well? making friends? wait, who am i kidding. youre definitely healthy because youre like a health-conscious old man, and definitely no friends."

you’re talking so fast he doesn’t have time to respond to anything. he just stares down at you, not saying a word or moving an inch.

eventually, he reaches out, drops a heavy hand onto your head, and mutters, “shut up.”

you beam like he just handed you flowers. “there he is,” you giggle, grabbing his arm and hugging it to your chest. “so grumpy. so cute. i miiiissed you!”

he grumbles something pissy under his breath, but makes no move to pull away.

aizawa’s voice cuts through the air. “pair off.”

despite you already hanging on him, bakugo grabs you immediately. “we’re teaming up.”

“wait, what?” mina says from behind him. “you’re not gonna work with us?”

“we’re teaming up,” he snaps again, louder this time, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“but you always-”

“shut up. all of you. shut. the fuck. up.”

you’re already bouncing beside him, eyes bright. “oh my god, kats, i have so many ideas. okay, okay—what if you blow a hole in the wall and you know how i texted you last week about that new feature on my costume? i could use that to- wait! or we could climb over the roof and-”

“you talk too much,” he mutters, dragging you along gently despite his annoyed expression.

“you love it,” you sing, completely unbothered.

he doesn’t answer.

but the tiniest corner of his mouth tugs up.

masterlist

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

BIRTHDAY SUIT | Bakugo Katsuki

synopsis: Bakugo never made a big deal about birthdays—just another day in his book. But you're not letting this one slide. As his partner, you know better than anyone that under that explosive exterior lies a man who deserves to be worshipped. And tonight, that’s exactly what you plan to do. Dressed in nothing but a gift-wrapped surprise, you give him a present no one else ever could—you.

content: smut, shameless smut, established relationship, lingerie sex, birthday sex, reader takes the reins, blowjob, sloppy, cowgirl , orgasm,

Bakugo never cared about birthdays. For once, he'd let you celebrate him.

No grumbles, no sarcastic muttering under his breath about “dumb-ass traditions” or “waste of time.” No disappearing off to train. No flinching when his friends shouted “Happy Birthday, Katsuki!”

He actually stayed. Enjoyed it.

The apartment had been buzzing earlier with close friends, laughter, drinks, and too many snacks. But now, it was just you and him. The glow of warm lights filled the room, soft music playing low from the speaker. The scent of buttercream and spiced candles lingered in the air.

“Sit,” you said, nudging him down onto the couch.

He dropped onto it with a tired, satisfied huff, one arm slung over the backrest as he watched you crouch beside the small stack of gifts left on the coffee table.

“Ya didn’t have to do all this, y’know,” he muttered. “Just havin’ you around is—”

“Shut up,” you smirked, passing him the first box. “You can get sappy after we’re done with presents.”

He rolled his eyes, but the blush on his ears gave him away.

One by one, he opened them. A couple of gag gifts from Kaminari, a surprisingly thoughtful book from Todoroki, custom gloves from Kirishima. A shirt from you he’d side-eyed in a store window a few weeks ago but pretended not to like. He’d mumbled, “Not bad,” when he saw it then—but the way he smiled when he saw it again tonight? That soft, flickering look in his eyes?

Yeah. He remembered.

But the last gift made him still.

He turned the box in his hand like he didn’t quite recognize it, even though you knew he did. You watched his fingers move slower—more careful. He lifted the lid and saw it:

A first edition, limited-run All Might training journal.

Something he’d mentioned in passing once during a midnight walk months ago. Something he said he always wanted but could never find.

He stared at it in silence, thumb brushing over the embossed edges.

“…You remembered that?” he asked, voice suddenly quieter. His eyes lifted to yours.

You smiled gently. “Of course I did.”

Bakugo swallowed hard, cheeks pinking up in a way that had your heart blooming in your chest. “You’re insane,” he muttered. “You know that?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “A little.”

He blinked hard, then cleared his throat.

“Alright, alright—cake. Let’s get this over with before I start feelin’ like a damn Hallmark card.”

You brought over the cake, candles already lit, your face glowing in the soft flicker as you sang the most off-key, dramatic “Happy Birthday” you could manage. He groaned, but he didn’t stop you.

He blew out the candles.

You sliced two pieces, handed him a fork… then stole it right back.

“Say ah.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You really gonna hand feed me right now?”

“wedding reenact,” you said, lifting a bite to his mouth.

He opened it, still scowling—but barely—as you fed him a chunk of cake. He chewed, crimson eyes on you the whole time.

“Good?” you asked.

He gave a slow, appreciative nod. “Yeah. sweet.”

"that so..."

You leaned in, swiped a little frosting from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips looked so soft, gilding your frosted coated thumb onto them, then kissed it off his lips, pressing your own into the softness of his. It started soft.

But when your lips brushed his again—slow, warm, and just a little longer—his hands naturally found your waist, pulling you closer until you were nearly in his lap. He kissed back, gentle but hungry, lips parting to taste more of you.

You murmured between kisses, breath hot against his mouth: “Birthday kiss.”

He blinked slowly, his lips still parted from the kiss, eyes dazed and focused only on you. His hands stayed warm on your waist, thumbs stroking slow, thoughtless circles into your skin through the thin fabric. His gaze trailed over your face—your lips, your flushed cheeks, your eyes so full of mischief and adoration.

“You’re everything,” he murmured, almost like it slipped out without permission.

You kissed the tip of his nose, giggling softly. “Thank you.”

And then?

His grip tightened. Just slightly. And he pulled you into his lap.'

“You keep lookin’ at me like that,” he muttered, voice thick and low, “I’m gonna forget we were takin’ things slow tonight.”

You leaned in, straddling him without hesitation, your thighs hugging his hips as you settled against him. His body welcomed you instantly, his hands sliding up your sides, fingertips dragging the fabric of your top slightly—like he wanted less of it between you.

“I was never planning to go slow,” you whispered, brushing your lips just barely against his jaw. “Not tonight.”

His breath caught—sharp, audible. You felt it in his chest, the way it stuttered under your palms. His reaction was subtle, but every part of him twitched with anticipation: his hands, his legs beneath you, the slight lift of his hips like he was already imagining how this night would end.

“Got one more present for you,” you murmured into his ear. “The real one.”

Bakugo’s brows lifted, suspicious. “Thought that damn journal was the real one.”

You grinned, climbing off his lap for just a moment—enough to walk toward the bedroom with that sway you knew drove him wild.

He watched, chin propped on his hand, eyes darkening the second your fingers dipped beneath the hem of your top as you disappeared down the hall.

“Oi,” he called. “What kinda present needs you to change for it?”

You didn’t answer.

But when you reappeared in the doorway—lingerie clinging to your curves like a second skin, chosen with him in mind—Bakugo sat up so fast he nearly knocked the fork off the coffee table.

Your name left his mouth like a groan.

“Holy shit…”

You were wrapped in delicate black lace, the kind of thing he never thought he’d see outside a magazine, and even then—never on you. Never just for him.

His mind blanked.

No words, no witty comeback. Just the shape of you silhouetted in the soft golden light. The way the sheer material clung to your curves, catching every dip and swell like it had been tailored with him in mind. The way your thighs moved when you walked, slow and sure, like you knew what that sight alone was doing to him.

His mouth had gone dry.

And still, he sat there—frozen on the couch, like his body had been rooted to the spot. Only his eyes moved, dragging over you with almost painful reverence.

Your presence wasn't just seen. It was felt. In the sudden hush of the room. In the way the air itself seemed to shift as you crossed it. There was a softness to it—like watching a flame flicker behind glass. Dangerous, but so goddamn beautiful.

Something in his chest ached.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw you like this—wanting him like this. That wide-eyed, breath-stolen reaction always snuck up on him.

His gaze caught on your collarbones, then drifted lower—hesitating on the swell of your breasts barely veiled by lace, down the soft line of your stomach, until it settled between your legs, where the thin strip of fabric left far too little to the imagination.

The sight knocked the wind out of him.

One of his hands, resting uselessly on his thigh, curled into a fist. The other—he didn’t even realize—had wiped itself discreetly on his jeans, sweat clinging to his palm.

Not from nerves. No. Never that.

Except maybe this time, it was.

Because you were walking toward him now, hips rolling, eyes locked onto his, and he could feel his body respond before his brain had even caught up. His mouth parted. Breath shallowed.

God, the way you moved. Like you were pouring yourself into every step. Like you weren’t just walking to him—you were offering yourself.

It made his pulse stutter.

And when you climbed back into his lap, warm skin settling over the growing heat in his jeans, he couldn’t think. All he could do was feel. Your nails dragging against the nape of his neck in ghost trails feather-light, his body withered under the touch. Your perfume mingling with his senses what scent was that? and why cant he stop sniffing you.

"You smell really good baby...really good" his nose ghosted your neck, hips pulling you closer. Your thighs oh so soft to him, bracket him so warmly.

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

He just looked.

Admiration wasn’t something Bakugo handed out easily—not to friends, not to strangers, and definitely not out loud.

But he was looking at you now like you were everything. Like you were a dream made real. Like he didn’t know whether to kiss you, worship you, or fall to his knees for you.

He couldn’t stop drinking you in.

How had he gotten this lucky?

You kissed him again. Slowly, reverently. The kind of kiss that curled toes and short-circuited nerves. You would use a hand to pull him by the shirt, and when you pulled back just enough to murmur, “Happy birthday, Katsuki,” his lashes fluttered low, heat gathering in his face as he let the words sink in.

His breath hitched when your hands found his chest.

Just fingertips at first, dragging over the fabric of his shirt like you were memorizing him all over again. You didn’t rush—just let your palms glide across solid muscle, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath as your thumbs brushed the edge of his ribs.

He was already warm under your touch. And you hadn’t even done anything yet.

Leaning in, you pressed a kiss just beneath his jaw.

Then another—lower, slower. Your lips parted against his throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses in a trail that dipped down the curve of his neck. His skin twitched under each one, the breath in his lungs turning shallow, rough.

“Knew you’d do something like this,” he murmured, but the strain in his voice made it sound more like a confession than a tease.

You didn’t answer. Just smiled against his skin, your teeth grazing lightly before you sucked. Gently—just enough to make him feel it. And then again, lower. His hands tensed at your waist.

You tilted your head to kiss along the other side of his neck, scattering another series of soft hickies—like you were branding him in lace and affection.

A groan vibrated in his chest.

Your fingers slipped to the hem of his shirt. He didn’t resist. Didn’t even move.

He just watched you. Quiet. Obedient in a way only you got to see.

You peeled his shirt up, inch by inch, revealing the planes of his stomach—warm, lightly flushed, his abs tightening beneath your gaze. You kissed his chest slowly as you exposed it, lips brushing across firm muscle, leaving kisses that lingered just a little too long.

You didn’t break eye contact.

Not once.

Even as you sank further down, mouth worshipping the path beneath his sternum. Even as your nails lightly scratched up his sides, drawing out a low hiss from between his clenched teeth.

His body was buzzing now—caught between restraint and surrender.

And it was beautiful to watch him come undone like this. Strong and scarred and still, somehow, soft for you.

His head tipped back slightly, jaw clenched, one hand gripping your hip while the other fisted into the couch cushion. His thighs flexed beneath you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the word half breath, half plea.

You hummed softly, letting your lips hover just above his waistband.

“You’re warm,” you whispered, voice sultry and low, like you were letting him in on a secret. “All over.”

And he was.

Buzzing. Flushed. Waiting.

With his chest bare, his breathing ragged, and his eyes glassy with anticipation—he looked up at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Your lips hovered just above the waistband of his sweats, breath brushing against the faint trail of hair disappearing beneath the fabric.

The muscles in his abdomen tensed again.

And still—you didn’t touch him where he wanted you to. Not yet.

Instead, you lifted your gaze, locking eyes with him as your mouth curved in the faintest, knowing smirk. There was power in the way he was watching you. Tension in the way his thighs shifted restlessly beneath yours.

Every inch of him buzzed.

For you.

“Can I take these off?” you asked, voice honey-slow.

Bakugo grunted, half-dazed. “… yeah.”

He sounded so obedient watching every moment like a patient puppy. His beautiful crimson eyes shimmering under the soft glow of the room.

Your fingers dipped under the waistband and dragged it down slow. The fabric caught on the hardened outline of him, and he hissed through his teeth as you freed him from the restraint.

His cock sprang up, flushed and heavy, already leaking at the tip. His hips twitched upward involuntarily, like his body was pleading before his mouth could catch up.

You made a sound of appreciation in the back of your throat—soft, reverent—before leaning in to press another kiss, just above the base. Your tongue flicked out, tasting the warm skin there.

His whole body shuddered.

“Y-you're really gonna take your time with this, huh?” he muttered, voice rough, but low with awe.

You didn’t answer.

You just looked up again, lips parted, pupils blown, hands pressing to his thighs to steady him—before licking a slow, flat stripe from the base to the tip.

Bakugo cursed under his breath, his hand flying to the back of your head on instinct—but it never pushed, never forced. Just tangled in your hair, holding on for dear life.

Your mouth closed around him, warm and wet and unforgiving.

And he melted.

His head tipped back, jaw slack, a ragged moan slipping past his lips. You sucked him down slow—sloppy and deep—letting your tongue trace every sensitive vein, letting your spit drip down over your hand as you worked the base.

He was a mess.

Every time you hollowed your cheeks and sank lower, his thighs tensed. His breath hitched. His hips jerked upward before he caught himself, groaning through clenched teeth.

"Fuck... baby… you—goddamn."

You pulled back just enough to swirl your tongue around the head, then sank down again, deeper this time.

And he twitched in your mouth, body locking up as you moaned around him.

The sound went straight to his spine—he was pulsing now, barely holding on.

When you pulled off with a wet pop, spit connecting your lips to him in a string, you wiped your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, lips swollen, eyes hooded.

“Wanna ride you,” you whispered, climbing back up into his lap. “Can I?”

Bakugo was panting. Eyes glassy. Completely undone.

He swallowed hard, leaning into your chest to whisper "Please.”

You hovered over him, your hair framing your face so bewitchingly.

You lined him up with your entrance, already soaked and pulsing for him. And as you sank down, inch by inch, his eyes rolled back and his hands grabbed your hips like he needed something to anchor him to this earth.

You moaned low as he stretched you open.

“Shit—so full,” you breathed, resting your palms on his chest.

“Look at me,” he rasped, voice trembling. “Wanna see your face.”

You did. And when your eyes met his—when he saw the way you looked at him, like he was the only one you ever wanted—his whole expression softened.

His hands caressed up your waist, slow, reverent.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he whispered, voice shaking.

You didn’t move right away.

Not really.

Instead, you hovered just above him, your entrance brushing the slick, sensitive head of his cock—barely letting him in, just enough to tease. Just enough to let him feel the heat of you. Your thighs flexed slightly, hips rolling in slow, agonizing circles that dragged your soaked folds over the tip again and again.

A soft, wet sound filled the space between you. Your juices clung to him, thick and sticky, smearing across his shaft with every grind.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head thunking back against the couch. “You’re—fuckin’ killin’ me.”

You smirked, gaze flicking up to watch him.

And god… the way he looked right now? His chest rising with every ragged breath, his lip bitten raw, his knuckles white where he clutched your hips. Every muscle in his thighs was trembling beneath you. Twitching with the restraint it took not to thrust up and bury himself in you.

You leaned forward, your chest brushing his while your hips stayed in motion—rocking slowly, teasing him with slick, hot friction.

“I thought this was your birthday,” you purred into his ear. “Shouldn’t I be giving you what you want?”

Bakugo grit his teeth, his jaw tight with tension.

“I do want this,” he growled. “You drivin’ me fuckin’ insane like this—teasin’ me—makin’ me feel like I’m gonna explode just from the tip—shit…”

You giggled, soft and wicked, and sat back just enough for him to watch.

One of your hands reached between you, guiding him so the head rested right at your entrance again. You gave a few slow bounces—just the tip sliding in and out, each time making him curse louder.

“S-shit! Baby—fuck—fuck, just let me in—” His voice cracked, his fingers digging into your skin like he was about to lose it.

You finally pressed your hips down a little more, letting him sink in halfway.

His mouth fell open, a deep, guttural moan ripping out of him. His head snapped forward to look at where you were taking him in, flushed and wide-eyed.

And you just smiled at the desperation in his gaze.

“are you feeling good baby,” you whispered, dragging your nails lightly down his chest.

“God—yes—fuck yes,” he hissed, eyes fluttering as you dropped down another inch. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby. You always do. Always…”

You leaned in again, letting your breasts press to his chest as you kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Then you better hold on,” you whispered, breath hot, “because I’m not gonna stop until you’re a mess for me.”

And with that, you finally sank down fully. All the way. His entire body jerked like he’d been electrocuted.

He let out a strangled sound—somewhere between a moan and a gasp—his head rolling back, hands gripping your ass like he was holding onto sanity itself.

You didn’t move for a moment.

Just stayed there, so full of him, clenching around him until he twitched helplessly inside you. And then—slowly, sinfully—you started to ride.

Your hips began to move again—slow, like honey melting in warm sun, like a wave building over time until it crashes. You circled them, let your walls flutter around him just to feel the way he shuddered beneath you. His eyes opened halfway, heavy-lidded and glazed, following every sensual sway of your body like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And to him—it was.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, your palms gliding up his abdomen. “You’re so deep.”

A sharp breath hissed between his teeth. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, but his hips bucked once—shallow, needy. You kept your pace measured, deliberate, grinding down into him with that same velvet friction that made his head roll back again.

“Shit,” he groaned, the sound low and desperate. His hands were clutching at your waist now, not to guide, but to ground himself. “You’re squeezin’ me so good—I can’t—baby, fuck—please.”

You leaned down slowly, dragging your lips across his collarbone. Then lower—pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest, his stomach. As you moved, your body rolled into his, your rhythm never faltering, hips undulating in a steady, torturous rhythm.

Every time you sank down, he twitched inside you, groaning louder.

“I love the way you sound,” you whispered, licking the salt from his skin. “All desperate and sweet. My perfect birthday boy.”

He looked at you like he’d melt.

One of his hands slipped up your back, tangled into your hair, tugging lightly as you nuzzled his neck. You licked a stripe just beneath his ear, then suckled gently at his skin, your teeth dragging slightly—leaving soft, loving hickeys along his neck and collar.

And every one had him groaning, his cock jerking inside you.

“Gonna mark you up tonight,” you murmured. “So everyone knows who you belong to.”

“I already do,” he rasped, voice nearly broken, “fuckin’ been yours.”

You smiled into his skin and sat back again, palms braced against his chest as you began to bounce now—slow, deep, full bounces that had him clenching his jaw and moaning through his teeth. His abs flexed beneath your hands. His hands gripped your hips tighter.

Your name left his lips like a prayer.

Your hips found a rhythm—delicious, sticky, sinful—and the way he filled you, the way he responded to every little grind, made your legs start to tremble.

He felt it. His hands slid down to cup your ass again, helping support your movements as he watched you from beneath heavy lashes.

“Baby,” he breathed. “You’re—fuck—you’re gonna make me come—just like this?”

You leaned forward again, kissed him deep, then pulled back just enough to whisper:

“Yes. Inside. Don’t hold back. I want you to come just like this.”

He let out a wrecked moan, his hips finally thrusting up to meet yours, matching your rhythm.

Faster now.

Deeper.

You clung to his shoulders, your mouth falling open as the coil inside you tightened and tightened—

And then he gasped—head thrown back, mouth open, cock twitching violently inside you as he spilled, deep and thick and hot, fingers bruising your hips while he cursed your name like a confession.

You didn’t stop.

Not even then.

Still slow. Still steady. Still riding out every aftershock as he moaned beneath you, overstimulated and undone.

His eyes fluttered open, glassy and soft as they met yours. His hair stuck to his forehead. His chest heaved. His hands slid up your spine, arms curling around you as he held you close.

Your chest heaved against his, his heart pounding against your ribcage like a war drum. He was still buried deep, twitching, oversensitive—but you didn’t move. You just cradled his face, tilted it up so he had no choice but to look at you.

“Listen to you,” you whispered, voice sultry and sweet as sin. “Mouth full of curses… all because I couldn’t help creamin’ all over that fat cock.”

Bakugo groaned through clenched teeth, face flushed and jaw tight like he was holding onto the last thread of sanity.

“You heard it, didn’t you?” you murmured, grinding just enough to make him jolt, to let another wet, obscene squelch fill the space between you. “God, the noise we made—bet our neighbors think I was drowning in it.”

He groaned louder, head falling back against the couch.

You leaned down, kissed the corner of his mouth, slow and lingering, then whispered, “Soaked you, Katsuki. You feel how messy I made you? Look at your lap—look at what you did to me.”

He peeked down—eyes glassy—and let out another hoarse, broken curse when he saw the slick still glistening between your thighs, dripping slowly down both of you.

You rocked your hips again, so delicately, and he twitched inside you, helpless. His whole body shivered with a groan, his head collapsing on your shoulder "fuck enough"

You grinned. “You liked it when I sat there and shook my ass on it, didn’t you? Teasin’ you right on the tip ‘til you were cussin’ like you were about to lose your damn mind, yeah?” you grind.

“You’re—fuckin’ evil,” he gasped, fingers twitching against your waist.

You kissed his jawline this time, biting lightly just below his ear. His hands gripped you tighter again, like he was about to flip the script—but he was still spent, still weak from how you dropped your ass on him, He just held you there instead, breathing ragged, letting you purr filth against his skin.

pressure to party // katsuki bakugou

when he clearly has a favorite roommate

a/n: so there was indeed supposed to be a written portion with this but it was too srs n i just needed to make something silly <\3 roomie kats in my brain is sssssoooooooooooooo rated r i think i would go crazy

-

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg @twoplayergaymers @simp-plague @xvilluis @haruhi269 @starliightfiend @k0z3me @straows

katsuki tag: @bitchyfestivalbouquet @kaldurahms-lover

Kacchan doodles

Happy birthday king 🧡🧡🧡

HAPPY BDAY AAAHHHH

‼️💥HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATSSSSS💥‼️

— katsuki bakugou ⋮ 03 / 16 / 25. ❝ 𝓗𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝓑𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑫𝑨𝒀 ❞

content warnings ⨾ soft!pro-hero!katsuki bakugou. happy (early) birthday katsuki !! profanity. bad days. kirishima mentioned. gn!reader - no pronouns, but reader is wearing a dress. not proof-read. word count ⨾ .6K ❪ 619 ❫

“you look pretty. gettin’ all dressed up for something?”

you meet katsuki’s eyes in the mirror. he stands in the doorway, leaned against the door frame with a smile on his face. your eyes drift and you realize he’s still wearing his costume. with furrowed brows, you turn to him and tilt your head. “katsuki,” you whine, throwing your hands into your lap. “you’re still in your gross hero stuff. we’re supposed to leave in twenty minutes! how are you meant to shower and do your hair and find an outfit and-“

he makes it to where you’re sitting in two and a half strides, his boots leaving mud tracks as he walks through the bedroom. he cuts you off with a chaste kiss, his gloves rough against your otherwise soft face. he leans back and smiles softly. “i’ll be quick, don’t worry. we’ll make it on time, baby.” when you pout, he laughs. “just wanted to see you for a sec. had a shitty day.”

your brows unfurl and you frown. “poor baby,” you coo, cupping his cheek, disregarding the ash smudged on his face. “do you want to talk about it? i can reschedule the dinner for a later reservation.”

“nah.” he shakes his head, but sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed. you bite your tongue, reminding yourself that you can just wash the sheets later rather than berate him about it now. “just a lot of running around. shittyhair got thrown into a fucking building.” he laughs and drags a hand down his face. “so much for a happy birthday right?”

“i told you you should’ve taken the day off,” you sigh out, raising your brows and turning back to the mirror.

“criminals don’t take days off.” it’s quiet, a stark contrast to his usual intensity. you look at him through the mirror and bite the inside of your cheek. he looks so . . . defeated.

“katsuki,” you mumble, turning back around with another frown. you stand and walk over to him, standing in between his legs. “we don’t have to go tonight. we can stay in and watch a movie. it’s your birthday, y’know. we can go out some other time.”

he looks up at you and sighs. you take this time to look at him—really look at him. his boyish features from high school are long gone; chubby cheeks replaced by a sharp jawline, eyebags replaced by crows feet, the same freckles scattered across his cheeks.

he wraps his arms around you in a hug and presses his face into your stomach. you don’t mention how he bought you this dress and how the ash is most definitely going to stain it.

“you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he mumbles into the fabric, pressing into you harder. you feel your expression soften and you put your arms around his shoulders, squeezing three times—a special way to say i love you. “i don’t know what i would be without you.”

“you’d still be an amazing pro,” you say softly. “maybe a little lost—a little skinny, too.” he laughs and you smile. “but still an amazing, hardworking, kind, determined, helpful, loving pro-hero.”

he hums and for a long moment—maybe five minutes—you two stay like that, silent. the only noise is the AC running through the vents, and the washing machine. eventually, he leans back, keeping his hands on your hips.

“i love you.” he doesn’t say it often, choosing to express it in other ways, but when he does, it’s the best part of your day.

you lean down to press your lips against his, soft and full of meaning. “i love you too, kats. more than you will ever know.”

Tipsy Touches and Tangled Vines

aged!up! Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (Fluff)

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

You barely got the door shut before Bakugou’s hands were on you. His fingers hooked into your waist, pulling you back against his chest, his mouth grazing your ear.

“You really tryin’ to put me to bed already?” he murmured, voice thick with heat and leftover whiskey.

You grinned, ducking out of his grip and tugging him down the hallway by the hand. “Yes. Because you cannot handle your liquor, Katsuki. You started leaning on the wall like it was your lifeline.”

“I was lettin’ it hold me so I could look at your ass in that dress.” His words were a growl against your neck, hot and teasing, as he crowded you into the bedroom.

You squeaked as he caught you mid-step, lifting you just enough to toss you on the bed. “Katsuki—”

He was on you in a second, straddling your hips with that cocky smirk that made your stomach twist. “What, princess?” he rasped, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt slowly, knowing full well you were watching.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you warned, cheeks warm. “You’re two seconds away from a blackout.”

“I’ve got at least ten good minutes in me,” he murmured as he leaned down, mouth dragging along your throat. “That’s all I need to make you forget your own name.”

You let out a breathy laugh, fingers finding the hem of his shirt. “You talk a big game, baby,” you teased as his lips found the soft spot below your ear. “But I know how this ends.”

“Yeah?” he said, voice dropping, hands running down your sides to squeeze your thighs. “How’s that?”

“With you—” You gasped as he nipped at your skin, “—trying to dirty talk me, then falling asleep halfway through.”

He chuckled, deep and warm, before biting your shoulder lightly. “I’m offended you think I’d tap out like that.”

“I don’t think, I know. Last time, you passed out with your hand still in my panties.”

A groan left his throat, half embarrassment, half pride. “Still made you come first, didn’t I?”

You slapped his shoulder with a laugh. “You’re impossible.”

He just kissed down your neck again, slower now, more languid, less hungry and more lazy. The way he moved softened, his hands wandering but without urgency. His weight shifted, slumping into you, and you felt the exact moment his body stilled.

You sighed, already smiling. “Katsuki?”

No response—just the soft rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Katsuki,” you whispered, brushing his hair back.

A little breath, then: “M’not asleep.”

“You’re drooling.”

He muttered something incoherent, pressing a final, lazy kiss against your shoulder before going limp again, completely out.

You bit your lip to hold back the laugh, arms wrapping around him.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “My menace of a man.”

He didn’t hear it—but you said it anyway.

unamused

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: saying suspicious things infront of your boyfriend.

After being inspired by a tiktok you watched a couple days ago, you decided to try it out for yourself to see how your boyfriend would react and what better time than when you’re on break from him helping you study in his dorm room.

Inconspicuously letting out a soft sigh you switched to your camera and began recording. Talking about random and mundane things for whatever reason, something you always did randomly so Bakugou didn’t really notice anything out of the ordinary until you got to a certain topic.

“In relationships it’s totally normal to lose feelings—“

From your peripheral vision on the video you could see his frown deepen, brows scrunching in displeasure.

“What’d you say?”

You stilled in your spot pretending to be confused and trying not to blow your cover already.

“Huh?”

“What in the hell are you doing now?” he asked firmly, cocking his head to the right.

“Oh I’m just giving love advice in general, now don’t interrupt me.” you answered.

He didn’t say anything else but you could hear him step closer to where you were, getting up from his spot on the bed where he was fixing something in his drawer.

“Anyways its normal to build resentment and hate your partner.”

Before he could reach your phone you grabbed it and continued on.

“And sometimes you might wanna strangle them—“

Then he grabs you quick but gentle enough as to not hurt you from the cushioned floor, body completely towering over yours.

“DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO ME OR WHAT WOMAN?”

You laugh as he shakes you in the process, papers flying off from the edge of the short legged table.

“I don’t!” you exclaimed giggling.

“LIKE HELL! WHAT’D I DO WRONG!!?”

“It’s not about you I swear!!!! as I was saying if their blonde and name starts with the letter b—“ you continued, turning away from him.

“I’m gonna strangle you.”

“NO WAIT LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING! LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING—“

©windyremedy

POUND TOWN | Bakugo Katsuki

synopsis: You keep talking crazy all night and risking your ability to walk so he took your craziness back to your room to see what's up.

content: smut. shameless smut, missionary, bondage, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, vibrator, messy sex, husband! bakugo, bakugo's a fucking freak.

Without his cock, he remains a sadistic bastard, feeding on your futile attempts to hide from him. But what happens when he suddenly takes an interest in using toys? He becomes a fucking monster.

Your hands are bound above you, wrists secured to the headboard. He got tired of you pushing his hand away—tired of your disobedience. Would you ever listen when he told you to stay still? No. You’d whine about it being ‘too much,’ drowning in your usual dramatics, claiming you were dying.

He only smirks at your theatrics, the curve of his lips a cruel promise. “Dying?” he mocks, fingers tracing the slick mess between your thighs. “You always say that, and yet—you’re still here.”

A breathy and broken moan falls off your lungs as he presses the toy against your overstimulated clit, a fresh wave of stimulation making your body jolt. You try to twist away, pawing at his hands, but the restraints hold you firm. He clicks his tongue.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is velvet over steel, laced with amusement. “I haven’t even started.”

The toy buzzes to life, the vibration sending a violent shudder through your body. Your legs twitch, but he’s already got you pinned. A low chuckle rumbles from him, dark and pleased.

“Yeah… you’re not going anywhere.”

It all came to life last week.

"Would you ever use toys on me bakugo?" the question came to him, and he scoffed with a obnoxious grin turning to you, "what, my cock not good enough for you anymore"

your eyes widened and you smacked him on the shoulder, "Don't be such a pervert" refusing to answer up-straight, he'd continue, flipping your questions of curiosity into nasty statements, and you would just roll your eyes in with a laugh as he laughed "god never mind"

But who would've known, that later in the same week, Katsuki Bakugo, would have been hyper fixated on the exact topic. Do extensive research, and went ahead to make the purchase of an Hitachi Magic Wand.

Your once bright eyes, rolling back in bliss. "oh my god" you whispered. Your body convulsing under his screened attention on your swollen clit as he fucks into you as if the vibration of the wand wasn't enough to send you mind fucked.

Your not sure how much time has passed, he sure as hell didn't make it seem as if any time had passed, continuing to empty his cum in your already full womb, dripping out onto the white sheets as he used his dick to push it in, ensuring none went to waste.

And when your body sunk lifeless into the sheets, he'd disrupt that out of pure curiosity, pressing the wand back to your pussy on the highest setting. You'd try to weakly push his hand off, not really sure your brain melting, drool leaking from from the corners of your mouth as you your legs trembled violently and he'd find the audacity to beg. "One more pretty girl, please"

happy birthday to the love of my life, katsuki bakugo. hope he enjoys his gift for his easter birthday: his favorite little bunny.

it had started with a birthday plan. well—technically a birthday easter plan. the odds of katsuki bakugo’s birthday landing on easter sunday weren’t high, but fate had a sense of humor. and you? you had a sense of drama.

you’d already given him gifts for his birthday. his letter—handwritten, sealed with a kiss, full of sharp sarcasm wrapped around soft, sappy sentiment you’d never admit out loud.

he read it quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed, thumb brushing over your kiss mark at the bottom. his brows furrowed in that way they always did when he was feeling too much but didn’t want to show it.

“you’re such a damn brat,” he muttered, voice thick, eyes refusing to meet yours. “but… you write good shit.”

“don’t cry, tough guy.”

he didn’t look up, just folded the letter carefully—too carefully—and tucked it into his nightstand drawer like it was something fragile. precious.

“shut up,” he said, voice rough. “you’re lucky i like your dumb handwriting. even if it looks like a drunk squirrel tried to learn cursive and gave up halfway.”

“aww. that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“don’t push it.”

he reached out, grabbed the front of your shirt, and yanked you into a rough, lingering kiss that left no room for misinterpretation. when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“best fuckin’ letter i’ve ever gotten,” he murmured, low and soft like a secret.

a few small gifts were scattered on the dresser: limited edition all might merch, a new hoodie he’d been eyeing for a while (that he absolutely knew you were going to steal), and that spicy snack mix he always hoarded like a dragon with gold.

he stood there, arms crossed, doing his best to look unimpressed, but the way his ears turned a little red gave him away.

he eyed the merch first, holding the figure up with a raised brow. “…you been stalkin’ my browser history or somethin’?”

you grinned. “nah. just love you enough to pay attention.”

he shot you a look—equal parts flustered and fond. “tch. hoodie’s mine. you’re just gonna steal this in two days.”

“i give it one,” you said sweetly.

he looked at you, eyes soft but unreadable. “still wearin’ it anyway.” then he found the snack mix. “you didn’t eat any, right?”

you gasped, mock offended. “i would never.”

still, he leaned down and kissed your cheek before grabbing the snack mix and tearing it open immediately.

the cake? well, it was slightly lopsided, the frosting uneven, but it was made with love—and caramel with cinnamon. he didn’t say much when he ate it, just grunted, grabbed a fork, and took a second slice without a word.

you hovered awkwardly nearby. “so… good?”

he chewed slowly, gave you a deadpan look. “tastes like love and poor frosting skills.”

“rude.”

he grinned, leaned over, and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. “still the best fuckin’ cake i’ve had in years.”

“you say that every time.”

“yeah,” he said, mouth full. “and i fuckin’ mean it every time.”

now, though, it was time for the real present.

so when he walked into your shared bedroom after a long morning of birthday messages and half-assed hero paperwork, the last thing he expected was you, perched pretty on the bed.

pink bunny ears twitching with every little movement you made. a tight, pastel one-piece hugging your every curve. sheer stockings accentuating your thighs, and a fluffy little tail pinned to your lower back like a gift-wrapped tease.

katsuki stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed, expression unreadable as he took you in.

you sat perched on the bed, legs crossed, every bit the picture of flirty confidence. your gaze was locked on his, unapologetic.

“happy birthday, katsuki,” you purred, lips curling into a sly smile.

his crimson eyes dragged over you slowly, deliberately, his tongue running over his teeth before he finally spoke. “the fuck is this?”

“what’s it look like, hm?” you stretched out, back arching just enough to show off your curves. “figured i’d... hop into something special for you.”

his jaw ticked. “you think you’re funny, huh?”

“a little,” you admitted, shifting onto your hands and knees, crawling toward him at the edge of the bed.

his eyes darkened as you closed the distance, your hands sliding up his chest when you reached for him, kneeling in front of him. “thought you’d like a cute little bunny to play with, birthday boy."

katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, grabbing your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up so you were forced to meet his gaze.

“you know what happens to dumb little bunnies who tease too much?”

you swallowed, trying to keep your confidence, even as the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine. “they get spoiled rotten?”

“wrong. they get fucked.”

a thrill shot through you, heat pooling in your stomach as he crowded closer, his other hand slipping down to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“bet you thought you were bein’ cute, puttin’ this on. bet you thought i’d let you bounce around and tease me all night.”

you let out a breathless giggle. “bunnies do like to bounce…

his fingers trailed down your back, playing with the delicate ribbon lacing up your tail before giving it a sharp tug. you gasped, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself.

“that so?” his lips brushed against your ear. “then let’s see how long you last when i really make you bounce.”

he took you in—your ridiculously boner-inducing ensemble, the way your chest rose and fell a little faster, the anticipation in your eyes. then, with slow precision, he sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh.

"come here," he ordered, voice thick with authority.

you swallowed, your body already thrumming with heat as you climbed onto his lap. his hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking your skin through the sheer fabric of your stockings. he let you hover there, deliberately drawing out the moment, making you feel the power shift between you.

"go on," katsuki murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he guided your hips to settle against him. the heat of him pressed against you, even through the layers between you.

your breath hitched as he held you there, letting you feel just how hard he was, how much he wanted you. his grip was firm, unwavering, making it clear that he was in control even as he let you take the lead.

he shifted, leaning back to watch you straddling his lap. his hands slid down, gripping your hips, guiding you to grind against him—slow, deliberate, teasing. the heat between you was undeniable, the layers of fabric doing little to hide just how affected you both were.

you whimpered, trying to tug your bodysuit aside, reaching for the bulge pressing up against your core. but his hands stopped you, fingers curling around your wrist.

“uh-uh,” he hummed. “not yet. little bunnies gotta hump first.”

you whined softly, frustration bubbling to the surface as you squirmed in his lap. “katsuki, please—”

“please, what?” he cut you off, voice sharp, mocking. “please fuck you already?”

you nodded desperately, biting your lip.

he scoffed, his expression darkening as his hand shot up to tangle in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat.

“i said hump,” he growled. “that needy little cunt doesn’t get filled until you earn it.”

you tried to slow, to catch your breath, but his hands were relentless, grinding your hips against the hard line of his cock beneath you.

his fingers dig in as he helped you move. every time you tried to slow down, his hands tightened, forcing you to keep up, forcing you to take it.

you barely had time to catch your breath before katsuki pulled you forward, burying his face between your tits.

“fuck, you’re soft,” he groaned, tugging the fabric away before his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking hard.

you gasped, back arching as heat shot straight between your legs. his teeth grazed your sensitive skin before his tongue soothed over it, his other hand coming up to knead your other breast.

you tried to keep moving, to keep bouncing, but between his hands gripping you and his mouth marking you up, your body was giving out, shaking from the overwhelming pleasure.

“k-katsuki—” you gasped, hands tangling in his hair, tugging.

he growled against your skin, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips glistening. his smirk was feral, eyes burning with satisfaction.

“hm? thought you liked to bounce?” his fingers dug deeper into your thighs, a warning. “or do i gotta fuck you like the greedy little thing you are?”

you whimpered, hips bucking desperately along with a nod. he laughed, licking a stripe up your chest before capturing your nipple between his teeth again.

“that’s it,” he praised, voice strained. “knew you’d look so fuckin’ good like this.”

you sobbed, rolling your hips, desperate for more, and he grinned like he’d won. you weren’t sure how long he made you keep going, but by the time he finally took the reins, you knew you were fucked.

“aww, poor thing,” he cooed mockingly, pressing a hot kiss to your throat before nipping at your skin. “tired already? guess i better take over before my little bunny gets too worn out, huh?"

before you could respond, he shifted, one arm wrapping tight around your waist as the other yanked your bodysuit to the side, finally giving you what you’d been aching for.

the thick head of his cock pressed against your dripping entrance, teasing, pushing just enough to make your breath catch.

nails digging into his shoulders, your legs trembling as he eased inside—slow and torturous, filling you inch by inch until your walls clenched around him.

katsuki groaned through gritted teeth, holding you still for a second, letting the stretch overwhelm you. then his eyes flicked up to your face, and that familiar, dark grin curved his lips.

“you wanted to be a cute little bunny, huh?” katsuki grunted, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you as you bounced on his cock. “bunnies fuck like crazy, y’know that? they go at it all night long.”

you could barely respond, your moans breaking into gasps as he thrust up to meet you, driving deeper, harder, forcing you to take him to the hilt every time.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he taunted, voice thick with amusement. his fingers dug in as he guided you, making sure you didn’t slow down. “thought bunnies were supposed to be full of energy.”

you whined, gripping onto his shoulders for support, trying to keep up with the brutal pace he was setting.

each bounce forced his cock deeper, the obscene sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. you whimpered, legs shaking as he controlled your pace, refusing to let you fall back into lazy movements.

he leaned forward, breath hot against your ear. “put on the ears, shake your ass, act like a toy—and now you’re surprised i’m treatin’ you like one?”

you sobbed, clutching at him, body trembling from the overwhelming mix of pain, pleasure, and the pure, filthy thrill of being used exactly how you wanted.

“good fuckin’ girl,” he rasped, slamming up into you harder.

your moans were broken, breathless, every movement sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. your hands clutched at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as he thrust up to meet you, filling you so deep it made your head spin.

your head fell against his shoulder, body shuddering as pleasure built higher, hotter. his arms wrapped around you, keeping you flush against him as he took control, lifting you just to slam you back down, hitting that spot that made your vision blur.

every time your pace faltered, he’d lift his hips, thrusting up into you so deep it stole the breath from your lungs. a whimper slipped from your lips, fingers digging into his chest as you tried to keep up, but he wasn’t making it easy.

“what if i fill you up, huh? make sure this bunny knows her fuckin’ place?”

he suddenly slammed you down onto him, making you cry out, and he groaned low in his throat. your nails raked down his back as another wave of pleasure crashed over you, but he wasn’t letting up—not when you looked so fucked-out and desperate.

“gotta train you better,” he muttered against your skin, his smirk widening when you clenched around him. “bunnies are supposed to breed, aren’t they?”

you let out a broken moan, body shuddering, and he laughed breathlessly, one hand slipping down between your bodies to rub tight circles against your clit.

he was gripping your waist before flipping you in one fluid motion, pressing you down into the sheets. his breath was hot against your ear as he settled behind you, caging you in.

“aww, don’t tell me you’re tappin’ out already?” he cooed, tilting his head. “and here i was thinkin’ i’d finally get to see you breed like a proper bunny.”

heat shot through you at his words, making you clench around him, and katsuki groaned, his grip on you tightening.

“oh? you like that?” his grin widened. “shit, maybe you are just a dumb little bunny in heat.”

you gasped, nails dragging down his back, and his hips suddenly snapping up to meet yours, driving deeper, harder—sending sparks of pleasure up your spine.

katsuki didn’t give you a second to breathe. toes curling against the sheets, your vision blurring as he fucked into you harder. the slap of skin echoed through the room, punctuated by your gasps and his low, hungry groans.

“that needy little pussy’s fuckin’ leaking,” he growled, dragging his fingers through your slick before pressing them against your clit in tight, punishing circles. “soaked through that slutty little costume, too.”

you choked on another moan, face buried in his chest as your body shuddered, everything building—tight, unbearable, right on the edge.

“gonna cum like a dumb bunny while i fuck you full? huh?” he taunted, pulling your head closer by the ears on your head and forcing your back to arch deeper.

“yes, yes, katsuki, please—” you sobbed.

“beg for it. tell me what you fuckin’ want.”

“i want you to—want you to cum inside, need it, need it so bad, katsu—”

“yeah?” his thrusts faltered for only a second, a low, wicked groan slipping from his throat. “wanna be bred, huh? wanna be my filthy little bunny full of cum?”

you cried out, so close it hurt. “yes! please—please, fill me up—”

his grip tightened on your hips as he slammed into you one final time, deep, brutal, until you screamed his name. your body convulsed, pleasure crashing through you as you clenched around him, falling apart.

“take it. every fuckin’ drop.”

katsuki growled low, and then he was spilling inside you, hot and thick, hips jerking with each pulse. he buried his cock twitching deep inside you as he spilled hot, thick spurts into your clenching walls.

you whimpered as you felt it, the heat of him flooding you, dripping out before he’d even pulled out.

katsuki didn’t let go right away. he held you there, impaled and filled, his breath ragged against your shoulder. he stayed pressed against your chest, panting, one hand stroking slowly down your side as the other cradled your hip with surprising gentleness.

“shit,” he muttered against your skin, lips brushing your shoulder as his breath slowed. “fuckin’ hell..”

you snorted, too tired to do more than flop your face into the sheets. “that what you wished for when you blew out the candles?”

he chuckled—an honest-to-god laugh rumbling from his chest as he finally eased out of you, warm stickiness following in the wake.

“didn’t know i could wish for somethin’ i already had.”

“wow. look at you. getting soft in your old age.”

“twenty-six is not old,” he grumbled, but the faint blush on his ears betrayed him.

you hummed teasingly. “sure, grandpa.”

katsuki shot you a warning look, but instead of snapping back, his hand came up to card through your hair, bunny ears askew and all, his fingers surprisingly gentle.

“so... did the costume make the top ten birthday presents list, or…?”

katsuki huffed out something between a laugh and a groan, finally pulling out of you slowly, both of you flinching a little at the oversensitivity.

you felt the mess between your thighs instantly—sticky and warm, dripping down your skin—and you shivered at the loss of him.

his hands never left your body as he shifted you gently onto your back, reaching for the nearby towel he’d tossed on the nightstand earlier—because of course he was prepared, even if he pretended not to be.

“top three,” he muttered, wiping you down carefully. “right after the cake and that dumbass letter that made me feel shit.”

you flopped onto your back with a dramatic sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. “didn’t think birthday boys had to do cleanup.”

he shot you a look as he gently dabbed between your thighs, taking his time, making sure you were comfortable. “birthday boy’s the one who ruined you, so yeah—he fuckin’ does.”

you smiled, soft and real this time. “you’re getting sappy in your old age.”

he tossed the towel aside and climbed back onto the bed, settling beside you, pulling you into his chest like it was instinct. “yeah, well, turns out its not too bad when i’ve got a stubborn, sexy weirdo wearin’ bunny ears for me.”

you laughed against his collarbone. “you’re lucky i love you.”

katsuki kissed the top of your head, nose brushing against your ear. “nah. i’m lucky you’re mine.”

“and i’m lucky you’re easy to distract with cake and tits. y’know, i was actually gonna jump out of a giant egg and yell ‘surprise!’ but i figured you’d actually murder me.”

“you’re not wrong,” he said, arm tightening around you. “and you look better in that stupid bunny suit anyway.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“say that again and you’re spendin’ next year’s birthday with a vibrator and a guilt trip.”

“worth it.”

he glared at you before he stripped you, hands moving with familiar precision as he pulled off the bunny ears, the one-piece, and the stockings that had barely survived his earlier onslaught.

without a word, he grabbed one of his old t-shirts and slid it over your head, the fabric swallowing you up, before he joined you under the blankets.

you felt his gaze on you, warm and intense, and you looked up at him, brow arched. “what?”

he stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening as he took in every detail of you—maybe still a little in awe, maybe still a little surprised at the way you fit against him. his fingers lightly brushed your hair away from your face.

"god, i love you. so fuckin’ much, baby.”

your heart did somersaults. but you nuzzled in closer to him.

“i love you too, old man.”

“tch. shut up and go to sleep,” he grumbled, brushing a kiss over your cheek.

but as you started to drift, wrapped in his warmth and the lingering high of everything, he murmured, barely audible:

“best fuckin’ birthday ever.”

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAN 💗💗 omgomg i apologize for the blogs i couldnt tag, blog name wouldnt come up for some reason😭😭 I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THO 😝😝 please consider this my 4k special lmao (its only fitting sinces it 4/20 and shi), instead breeding kink with katsuki is 5k special!! would like to thank this request (one of the few first requests i had when i started this account), hope this fulfilled your request somehow!! 💗💗

⋆˚࿔ tags ˚⋆ @kodzubaby @akiii143 @mindless-existence1 @dollyfetti @st4ntwic3 @skylermiller1 @sugarcubepop @jazzywazzy859 @jealousmartini @kksmush @2elusional @ch3rryjampi3 @happinessisabutterflie @thirstygorl @zennypiee @kiansss @dullcets @kirishimasboobs @jo8920 @vrtualghoulz @inlovewjay @grim-reapers-wife @just0jordyn @ettesxythia @quixtic @whorecityyy @izayanara @valeriannnnnn @hanako-0kun @lmaolmaolmao @raining4food