TAPE IT | Bakugo Katsuki
TAPE IT | Bakugo Katsuki
synopsis:The night before Bakugo Katsuki ships out on another high-risk overseas mission, he doesn’t waste time with promises—he makes a memory instead. One raw, unforgettable moment laced with lust, love, and the ache of impending absence.
With only hours left together, he takes his time, worshipping you with hands and mouth, making you hold the camera so he can take a piece of you with him.
content: smut.
He’s leaving tomorrow.
Another mission overseas. Long, high-risk, and buried under a pile of top-secret files. He didn’t tell you much—just enough for the silence between you to grow heavier, thicker. Just enough for the air to carry that sharp ache of goodbye.
It’ll be weeks before you feel the weight of him in your bed again. Weeks before you can breathe in the scent of smoke, cedarwood, and sweat clinging to his skin. Weeks before you hear the low rasp of his voice murmuring your name like a prayer as dawn starts to break.
So tonight, katsuki's making a memory. His way.
You should be tangled up in sheets, limbs entwined, whispering lazy nothings in the dark. But instead, he’s on his knees in front of you, kneeling between your thighs on the couch, like you’re something sacred. Like this is a ritual. And maybe it is.
He looks up at you like he’s memorizing the sight—like he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you unravel like this again. His hands are firm on your thighs, thumbs tracing circles into your skin with reverent, almost desperate care.
“You’re gonna hold the camera, baby,” he says, voice thick and slow, like honey warmed over a flame. He presses your phone into your trembling palm, already recording, already flipped to show your own flushed, breathless face.
“I want it clear. I want it steady,” he adds, and there’s a tremor in his voice he’s trying to hide. One that tells you this means more than he’s saying.
You blink down at him, heart thudding in your chest. “Katsuki…”
He cuts you off with a soft smile—lazy, confident, but with eyes that shimmer like they’re drinking you in for the last time. “Don’t go all shy on me now,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against your thigh. “Not when I’m about to ruin you so fuckin’ sweet.”
Your breath catches, thighs twitching around him, and his smile stretches wider. That dangerous grin—the one that says he’s got you exactly where he wants you.
“There she goes,” he whispers.
And then he leans in.
His tongue slides over you, slow and unhurried, a soft tease that makes your entire body tense and melt all at once. He’s not rushing—no, never. He’s savoring. Worshipping. Learning the shape of your pleasure with every stroke of his mouth like he’s afraid he’ll forget it.
“Don’t drop it,” he murmurs against you, the vibration of his voice sending shocks down your spine. “You’re doin’ perfect, baby. Just like that. Let me see you come apart.”
You whimper, hips rolling softly, and the phone jolts slightly. His grip on your thighs tightens, grounding you, commanding you.
“Careful,” he breathes, licking up the slick mess he’s made like it’s his lifeline. “Told you I need this steady. I’m gonna be halfway across the world, starin’ at this screen every damn night. Gonna be strokin’ it slow, listenin’ to those pretty little moans of yours, imaginin’ it’s my mouth on you all over again.”
The confession makes your stomach warm, heat blooming in your face raw and intimate. A tether stretching across oceans.
“Eyes on the screen,” he whispers, lips brushing your most sensitive spot with every word. “Wanna see what I do to you. Wanna see how fuckin’ gorgeous you look when you fall apart for me.”
Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles white, as your thighs tremble slightly. His mouth is relentless now—tongue circling, lips sucking, pressure building like a storm. Every flick, every breath, every hum of pleasure from his throat sends another wave crashing through you.
And he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pause.
Not when your back arches off the couch. Not when your moans spill out like confessions. "Fuck Katsuki" Not when your body begged for mercy, curling in on itself you thigh closing in on him. But you should know better.
His hands hold you wide open, possessive and unyielding.
“God, you’re perfect,” he mutters against you, voice thick with emotion. “How the fuck am I supposed to leave this behind?”
You’re already falling, already lost—when his voice breaks the edge with a breathless, reverent sigh.
“There it is,” he whispers, smiling against your skin like he’s found heaven. “Feeling good baby?”
If anything, he gets hungrier.
His tongue drags through your slick with slow, deliberate reverence—like he’s carving the memory of your taste into the back of his throat. Like if he lingers long enough, if he swallows enough of you, it’ll carry him through the weeks of distance ahead.
And then—sharp.
You gasp, hips jolting when he sinks his teeth into the soft swell of your thigh. Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to make your breath catch and your fingers tighten around the phone.
“Katsuki—!” you hand fly to hair, voice half-shock, half-plea, the sting blooming into something electric.
He chuckles low, tongue soothing over the mark he’s left before he does it again, a little higher this time. Another nip. Another burn of his teeth, followed by the warm balm of his mouth. He paints your skin with purple hues, teeth and tongue and lips all working in tandem like a man crafting a masterpiece.
“Gotta take a piece of you with me,” he mutters against your thigh, voice thick with longing. “Even if it’s just this—these marks. Proof I was here.”
You’re panting now, trembling with every brush of his tongue, the heat between your thighs unbearable.
And then—
Oh god. He zeroes in. Mouth sealing around your clit with devastating precision, tongue flicking with practiced pressure, and your vision blurs.
Your head falls back against the couch, mouth dropping open in a soundless moan—but he groans into you, low and commanding.
“Eyes on me.”
You drag your gaze down, barely coherent—but the moment your eyes lock with his, it’s like the world narrows to nothing but the fire between your legs and the storm in his stare.
His gaze doesn’t waver. Doesn’t falter. It holds you captive—hot and fierce and gone. There’s nothing soft in it now. Just hunger. Worship. Desperation.
He sucks—harder, deeper—tongue curling, lips tightening—and your thighs clamp around his head on instinct. He doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t even flinch.
His fingers dig into your hips like anchors, grounding you while his mouth pulls you under.
And he never breaks eye contact.
You’re unraveling right there in front of him—shaking, gasping, eyes wide and glossy, phone trembling in your grip. Your body bows like it’s offering itself to him, chasing the edge with no hope of slowing down.
“You feel that?” he rasps between strokes, mouth slick and voice dark with need. “How perfect you taste? How fuckin’ lucky I am?”
You whimper—wrecked.
“Fuck, baby. Gimme all of it,” he groans, lips wrapping tight around your clit as he sucks again, harder this time. “I want you dripping down my throat when I go.”
Your stomach coils, everything inside you knotting so tight it feels like your bones might snap—and still, his eyes are locked to yours, dragging you over the edge with nothing but sheer will.
You come undone with a cry—loud and broken—and his mouth doesn’t stop. He carries you through it, tongue easing you down, slow and sweet, while his hands stroke up and down your sides, grounding you as your whole body trembles.
Your phone is barely still in your hand, the screen catching everything—your ruined moans, your soaked thighs, and the way Katsuki Bakugo worships you like you’re something holy.
And through it all, he’s watching you. Just watching.
Like you’re the only thing in the world he never wants to forget.
Your breath is ragged, chest rising and falling like waves crashing against the shore, and your grip on the phone is barely there—shaking, slipping.
He notices.
Of course he does.
Wordlessly, Katsuki reaches up and takes it from your hand, his touch gentle, thumb brushing your knuckles before he sets it aside. Somewhere safe. Somewhere it’ll keep every second of what he just gave you.
Then his eyes return to yours—soft now, but burning still. Like he’s letting you see everything he never says.
Without a word, he leans up, muscles flexing as he shifts your body with ease, guiding you into his lap like you belong there. Because you do.
Straddling him, your legs wrapped around his hips, your skin still flushed and damp, you can feel just how much he’s been holding back—hard and aching beneath you, breath hitching the moment your heat presses against him.
But he doesn’t rush.
His hands settle on your waist, grounding you, worshipping you with the slow glide of his palms up your back. He leans in and kisses your shoulder—soft, barely there, like he’s afraid he’ll break the moment if he moves too fast.
Another kiss, higher now. Then one just under your jaw, lips lingering like he’s pressing pieces of himself into your skin to stay behind.
And then—
He slips inside.
Slow. Deep. Home.
Your breath catches in your throat, and your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging in as he fills you, the stretch so perfect it’s almost overwhelming.
A soft moan spills from your lips—half his name, half a cry—and he groans low in your ear, head dropping to your neck as he holds you there, body trembling with restraint.
“Fuck,” he breathes, voice rough and raw. “I needed this. Needed you.”
You cling to him, burying your face in his hair, your lips against his temple. He moves slowly at first—hips rolling, grinding deeper than thrusting, like he’s savoring the way you mold around him. Like he’s memorizing every squeeze, every twitch, every desperate little sound you make.
Every inch of him is pressed to you—his chest against yours, his arms holding you like he never wants to let go.
“You feel that?” he whispers against your neck. “That’s me, baby. All of me. Gonna fuck you slow, so you remember me every time you close your eyes.”
You whimper his name, nails raking down his back, and he groans like it’s the only sound that matters in the world.
His lips find your shoulder again, kissing you through the burn, through the pleasure, through the ache of what’s coming tomorrow.
And with every breathless roll of his hips, every kiss, every whispered word—you know.
The moment he bottoms out, your body folds—curling into him, muscles seizing up around him with a whimper so soft it barely leaves your lips.
But he feels it.
Feels everything.
You’re clutching at his shoulders like they’re the only thing keeping you tethered to earth, face buried in his neck, mouth open and panting against his skin. He’s so deep you swear you can taste it, and the sigh he lets out against your throat sends a shiver straight through your spine.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, turning his head just enough to press his lips against the curve of your neck. He kisses you there, open-mouthed and reverent, then bites—gently—just to hear the noise you make.
You’re babbling in his ear now, too gone to form full thoughts, too full to think straight.
“So good—Katsuki, fuck, it’s s’good—don’t stop, don’t ever—feels so full, I—”
Your hips twitch without thinking, starting to grind in slow, desperate circles against him. The slide of your slick, the stretch, the obscene sound of it—it all makes his head spin.
But then his palm cracks against your ass, sharp and sudden.
You yelp—a high, breathy noise—and he smooths his hand over the sting, soothing the spot he struck before doing it again, this one heavier, more possessive.
“Easy,” he growls, lips ghosting your ear now, breath hot and ragged. “You tryin’ to make me lose already?”
You can’t answer. Not really. You just moan, hips still grinding, needy and uncoordinated, chasing more of him, chasing everything.
He slaps you again, a low groan tearing from his throat at the bounce of your ass against his lap.
“Fuck, listen to that,” he growls, his voice pure gravel and heat now. “Hear how wet you are? That’s my pussy, makin’ all that pretty noise for me.”
You whimper his name, nails dragging down his back, and he doesn’t wait this time—his hands gripping your hips, dragging you back and down as he starts to thrust.
Slow, deep, each one deliberate—like he’s staking a claim he already owns.
“You’re perfect,” he pants, watching your face twist as he hits that spot that makes your toes curl. “Feel so good wrapped around me, baby. So warm, so tight—fuck, I could die right here.”
Your whole body’s trembling now, your moans mixing with the slick slap of your bodies meeting, the room thick with sweat, breath, and the kind of love that’s too big to say out loud.
He buries his face in your neck again, voice lower now, a broken whisper:
“Gotta make it count. Gotta give you everything—leave you aching for me.”
And you are. Already. A mess in his lap, your walls fluttering around him, hips rolling to match his pace, your tears hot on your cheeks even though you're moaning through the haze.
He watches you fall apart on top of him, lips parted, tears clinging to your lashes, your body grinding like you’re chasing something you can’t name. And maybe you are. Maybe you both are.
Because something cracks in him.
Maybe it’s the way your slick clings to him, or the way your ass bounces against his thighs with every roll of your hips, so soft, so perfect. Maybe it’s the broken sound of his name tumbling from your mouth again and again like a prayer.
But suddenly he’s not holding back anymore.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, hips snapping up with a growl. “This ass—fuck. Feels too fuckin’ good. Can’t take it slow no more.”
And then he’s moving—fast, hard, dragging you down as he thrusts up into you with punishing precision, hitting so deep you cry out. The couch shifts beneath you both, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room like a drumbeat.
He wraps his arms around you—a full-body bear hug—one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of your head like you’re something fragile even as he ruins you.
You’re gasping, voice caught in your throat as he drills into you, every thrust stealing the air from your lungs, and all you can do is take it.
“Katsuki—Katsuki, I—fuck, I can’t—”
Your voice is barely there, a soft, shaking whisper right in his ear as you cling to him, shivering in his arms like your body can’t take another second but also never wants to let go.
He holds you tighter, breath ragged, sweat slick between your bodies, and moans low in your ear, voice cracking with it.
“Yes you can, baby. You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good. Just a little more. C’mon, just—fuck—just like that—”
Your hand flutters against his back, trying to grab at something, anything, even as your trembling fingers tap twice—soft, instinctive—against his spine.
Tap out.
And he knows.
His thrusts slow instantly, but his hold never loosens—just rocks you through the aftershocks as you melt in his lap, spent, clinging to him like you’ll drown if you let go.
He presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek. One more to the spot just under your ear where your pulse still flutters fast and wild.
“Got you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse but warm. “I’ve got you, baby.”
You’re trembling in his arms, body spent and sensitive, but he’s still there—still inside you, still moving, his hips rolling deep, desperate for his own high.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants into your neck, voice frayed and trembling. “I’m close—I’m so fuckin’ close.”
Your walls flutter around him again—tight, soaked, aching—and he groans, deep in his chest, like the sound is being pulled from his soul.
“Can feel you,” he gasps. “Still fuckin’ squeezin’ me. Shit—you’re gonna make me—”
You shiver again, your body helpless in his hold, and then—then—your breath catches.
It hits like lightning.
Your climax crashes over you in sharp, rolling waves, your entire body curling tight against him with a cry that’s half his name, half a sob. Your nails dig into his shoulders, legs shaking, your slick gushing around him as your pussy clamps down—tight and rhythmic, like you’re trying to keep him.
“Katsuki—”
He loses it.
His arms lock around you, crushing you to his chest as he thrusts once, twice—then groans, low and broken and so damn full of you—and spills inside you with a shudder.
Thick warmth pulses deep, his whole body tensing as he rides it out, his face buried in your neck, gasping into your skin like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this world.
He doesn’t stop holding you.
Even as the tremors fade, even as his breath starts to slow, he keeps you close—his cock still nestled deep inside, your bodies flush and sticky and shaking, hearts beating hard against each other.
He kisses your neck, soft this time. Reverent.
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Hii! If you don't mind, can you write an bakugou x fem reader where reader likes Katsuki and everyone including Katsuki knows cuz she always gives him gifts (that he throws out), compliments him, and overall just always there annoying him and one day Katsuki had enough and lashed out on her telling her that she's annoying and insulting her. Reader ofc got hurt by this and stopped. You can decide if it's full angst and no happy ending or angst but happy ending!
If you don't like writing something like this it's fine!! I love your works btww!!💕💕
Too Much
You were relentless.
Every morning, you greeted him with that same bright smile. Every training session, you cheered him on, even when he didn’t need it. Every holiday, you left little gifts—protein bars, extra bandages, even stupid handmade keychains with tiny explosions on them.
And every time, Bakugou threw them away.
It wasn’t that he didn’t notice you. No, everyone knew you liked him. Even he knew. How could he not, when you made it so damn obvious? You were always there, always orbiting around him, always pushing and pushing—until one day, he finally snapped.
It happened after class, in the locker room hallway. You had just handed him another stupid little package, a neatly wrapped box with a bow on top. Probably some homemade treat again. His jaw clenched. His patience ran out.
"Tch—just stop it already!"
You blinked, taken aback. "Huh?"
"Just fucking stop, alright? You’re so goddamn annoying!" His voice was sharp, cutting, full of frustration that had been building for months. "Always following me around, always giving me shit I don’t need, always acting like—like if you do enough, I’ll magically like you back!"
Your hands curled around the gift, fingers trembling. The sting in your chest was immediate, like someone had punched all the air out of your lungs. "I-I just…"
"What, huh? You think if you keep this up, I’ll suddenly give a shit? News flash—I don’t!" His ruby eyes burned into you, his scowl deeper than ever. "I never asked for any of this! So just… fucking quit it already!"
Silence.
You swallowed hard, lips parting like you wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, you nodded—once, twice—before clutching the gift to your chest and walking away. No tears. No protests. Just… silence.
And for the first time in a long time, Bakugou felt off.
***
Days passed. You avoided him. You weren’t dumb—you heard people whisper about it. You saw the looks your friends gave you, full of pity. And you hated it. So you threw yourself into training, into your studies, into not thinking about him.
But Bakugou?
He noticed.
At first, he told himself it didn’t matter. But every time he glanced at his desk and saw nothing there, every time he caught himself looking for you in a crowd, every time he found himself missing your voice, something gnawed at him.
And eventually, it ate him alive.
So one day, he found you sitting outside, staring at the sunset, and without thinking, he sat next to you.
You stiffened, eyes flicking to him, but said nothing.
A long silence stretched between you before he finally muttered, "You stopped."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "That’s what you wanted, right?"
His hands curled into fists. "I—…Fuck, I didn’t mean—" He exhaled sharply, frustration mixing with guilt. "Look, I was a dick. I know that. But I didn’t…" He struggled, searching for the right words. "I didn’t want you to go away."
You stared at him for a moment before looking away, voice quiet. "Then why did you tell me to?"
Bakugou had no good answer.
But for the first time, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a small, worn-out keychain. One of the stupid explosion ones you had made. The one he hadn’t thrown away.
And for the first time, you saw the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks as he shoved it toward you.
"Shut up and take it back."
im begging for you to make a drummer bakugou based on that "i hate attention" video on tiktok of the girl on his lap
➻ omg i don't know which tiktok u mean i'll be so real, i think i might've found the right one but if i'm wrong i'll rework it ^-^ just lmk!
notes: nsfw themes, 16+, quirkless!au, band!au
context: katsuki bakugo is a drummer in a band, with jirou (singer), kirishima (basist) and kaminari (lead guitarist). y/n is jirou's best friend. masterlist
╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝
katsuki bakugo was always full of surprises. from the great effort he took into spiking his hair, to the deep black eyeliner he smudged on his waterline, it seemed like every week, you found out something new about him. originally, he was simply a hot-headed classmate who sat two rows in front of you, only interested in body-building and heavy music, while you were seemingly distant and dry.
so you were shocked when you found out your best friend, kyoka jirou, was in a band with him. sure, you should've expected it. while his hair remained naturally blonde, he often liked to semi-dye the tips black, while painting his nails and keeping them short. it also shouldn't have surprised you that he was the drummer. from the flexing of his biceps to the therapeutic anger-relief of hitting the drum skins, it was undoubtedly a talent suited for him. and you couldn't deny he looked hot playing them.
the band contained him, jirou, kaminari & kirishima, yet your eyes would only lay on the spikey blonde. he had such an intense stage presence, his crimson eyes hunting the audience like prey as he showed off his strength and aura. it was embarrassing to admit to jirou that not only were you going to her gigs for her, but also for bakugo.
"y/n," jirou muttered, straightening her hair before a gig. she was sat sprawled in front of a dirty mirror, cigarette hanging from her mouth as she looked towards you. you were lying on her bed, scrolling though social media while you waited for the group to start. you were vip, of course. "could you do something for me for the gig?"
"sure, anything for you," you winked, glancing towards her before back at your phone.
"we're performing a song that's kinda trending at the moment. we're wanting to, you know, get seen on instagram, as cringe as it is," she explained, standing up and rolling up her knee-high socks. "but the trend includes someone sitting on the drummer during the solo."
"right," you answered confidently, roughly knowing what trend she meant. "and what are you wanting me to do? find someone who'll do it?"
she went silent, a small, smug grin on her lips as she took a long, drawn out inhale. "no, i want you to do it."
***
and that's exactly how you ended up on stage. albeit in front of around 450 people, you were still on stage. with lights on you. and a man's LAP to stradle.
you'd only agreed after multiple pleas from jirou. apparently the majority of girls they auditioned just didn't get along with bakugo's rough nature and snotty attitude, and considering he felt awkward himself with these women, they'd had to narrow it down to people he knew. and that just happened to be you.
the music was blaring around you, a cover of type o negative being slammed on guitar and getting the crowd wild. it was becoming your time, and you began to dance towards the drummer, who was so entranced by his own performance that he barely saw you coming. heart in your throat but showing off a false confidence, you sultured over, before enthusiastically throwing yourself on top of bakugo. you heard him grunt under his breath, attempting to get comfortable while thrashing the drumset. by this point, he was topless. the heat of the atmosphere and humidity had all four artists hot and bothered. it didn't bother you, however, as you were in awe by his beauty up close.
"sorry," you muttered under your breath, going beat red in the face as you performed a lap dance on him, your hands clasped on his shoulders as you turned your face to the crowd, a sly look on your face as you watched audience members fien jealousy.
"don't be," he answered, his eyes shooting daggers through yours as he stared at you. his hands continued to thrash, fingers brushing against your skin whenever he could. "do i look like i'm complaining, freak?"
you bit your lip as you realised he was into it, a slight hue slithering over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. it bought you an unimaginable confidence and, being recorded by none other than ashido, you put on a show. bouncing, pretending to kiss him, playing with his hair... anything sultry, and you were doing it. he kept his eyes on you, and you noticed his eyes slip down your top occasionally as he checked you out. sure, maybe you were all he could see, but he was being blatant. and you were sure you could feel movement beneath you...
the cue for you to get off the stage was coming up, however; the song was coming to an end, so they could finish up the set and go for drinks. you'd been told by jirou to do something drastic, something memorable as you left, but considering you and bakugo had performed a softcore lapdance, you weren't sure where to go from there. you looked at him desperately, unsure what to do, and he 'tchd'.
"just follow my lead," he muttered, glaring at jirou before leaning forwards. you followed, your back now against the bass drum and the high toms. your eyes widened as he threw the sticks behind him, roughly took your chin in his hands, and kissed you.
your arms draped around his shoulders, melting into the kiss you'd only dreamed of. he smelled like deep caramel and musk, and his hands scaled up your shirt to feel your skin. he'd made out like kissing you was a chore, when he seemed to be enjoying every moment. you heard jirou scream in delight, saying something stupid to the crowd you didn't fully hear. but once you were let go by the blonde, he rolled his eyes and pulled you off the kit.
"now get the fuck out of my sight," he said loudly, keeping the shit-eating persona up for the audience as he gestured you off the stage. completely stunned from the whole experience, you nodded as you tried to stop your legs from turning to jelly.
"mhm!" you answered, completely unable to make eye-contact with the man. but, even so, you felt him grab your arm. turning, he pulled you to his ear, whispering so the audience couldn't hear. and his words made butterflies flutter in your stomach.
"meet me in the back. twenty minutes."
an. i hope this is ok for u :)
fragile hearts.
bakugo katsuki x f!reader
angst, hurt and comfort. toxic rs (?) happy ending.
aftermath of the screaming competition you’ve had with your boyfriend last night.
Synopsis: You and Bakugo were dating for years already but having a romantic relationship with him doesn’t mean that he’s less meaner to you. Yesterday, he was really tired from training and overworked. When you tried to take care of him, he snapped and said hurtful things for the nth time. This has been happening over and over already.
You were laying down on the bed while scrolling on your phone. Him, on the other hand, is busy with his computer, playing a game and acting unbothered. Both of you refusing to talk to each other.
You heard him sigh to himself. His focus shifts ever so often during his match as he sneaks a glance at you from his peripheral vision. He knows he snapped at you yesterday, but at the same time he was frustrated and tired after having practiced the same move over and over for hours on end. That was no excuse to snap at you, of course, but he’d never admit that. But even while feeling a pang of guilt in his chest, Bakugo keeps his mouth shut and continues to watch his match.
The game comes to a pause and he looks over again at you. The guilt starts to eat at him more as he thinks about what he said to you yesterday. He feels the urge to say something, but his ego and pride holds him back from doing so. He sighs to himself again before deciding to talk to you.
“Hey.”
You didn’t, however, said anything and just keeps scrolling on your phone. That made him want to approach you, thus he sits on the bed right where you are and gives you a sidelong glance. Seeing you scrolling on your phone and looking like you don’t want to talk to him, you heard him sigh to himself again.
“Hey, can we talk?”
You just took a quick glance at him, “About what?”
It’s not like you really don’t know what he wants. He didn’t fail to notice how you respond curtly. He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re still mad at him or not, but he chooses his next words carefully. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s being defensive towards you.
“I want to talk about yesterday… because I know I got a little heated and… said some things I shouldn’t have said to you.”
He keeps his eyes on you, trying to read your expression to gauge what you’re thinking. He is honestly pretty worried that you’d give him a negative response… and quite honestly, that you’d just ignore him and not talk to him at all, which he honestly thinks he deserves but still doesn’t want to happen.
“I just… need to get my head focused and I kinda lost my cool,” he says quietly as he struggles with his words. Bakugo isn’t good with verbal emotions but he really wanted to express himself to you without saying the wrong things.
“It’s fine. I apologize for bothering you, too. Sorry, I’ll let you focus now,” you muttered.
“Is that it?”
You didn’t fail to notice the frustration in his face as he said that. He wasn’t sure if it’s because you’re not even remotely forgiving to him and you’re just going to disregard his attempt at trying to talk to you… or if you’re not interested in talking at all. Either of those two things makes him extremely frustrated as his ego is telling him to just ignore it, but his heart is telling him to keep going.
He furrows his eyebrows and grits his teeth while holding back the urge to get snappy with you. He takes a deep breath and clenches his fists… thinking carefully on what to say next.
“No… I don’t… I can’t just…” he pauses and looks at you for a second before he grabs your wrist, “…Don’t just say ‘it’s fine’ and brush it aside.”
He moves closer to you and looks you in the eyes. He is really trying hard to get you to say something more than just ‘it’s fine’ right now. He needs you to say something… anything. He doesn’t like this kind of tension between you two, especially since he is the reason for it.
He tightens his grip on your wrist slightly before continuing to speak. This clearly shows how frustrated, worried, panicked, and guilty he is with the whole situation.
“Please… talk to me. Don’t act like you’re just okay with it because I know you’re not.”
You were looking down, trying to act fine when it really wasn't, “It’s fine, Katsuki. Really,” you said in a low voice so he wouldn't notice your voice shaking.
He scoffs with frustration at you. He hates how you keep just saying the same thing over and over, as if you can’t even be honest with him. This whole situation is really testing his patience.
“No, it’s not fine. You won’t even talk to me!”
He says while gritting his teeth and furrowing his brows. He is trying really hard to not lash out at you, but you’re really pushing his buttons right now.
You scoff and almost rolled your eyes as you heard him. You recalled what exactly he said yesterday when he snapped at you, you were just doing what he wanted and now he’s still gonna snap at you for doing that? Shouldn’t he be happy?
“I’m just not meddling with your business.”
He lets go of your wrist as he leans back and runs his hand through his hair as he tries to rein in his frustration. He is honestly getting to the boiling point at this point because you are not saying what he wants to hear.
“You’re not gonna mess with my business? You’ve always meddled in my business,” he says dryly. He can’t even help but chuckle bitterly at how hypocritical that sounds as he feels the irony of the whole situation.
You didn’t respond. This is what happened last night, too. You know for sure he’s gonna keep going and repeat all the things he already said. Like what always happens.
He scoffs silently to himself as he looks at you, “You’ve always been around me and now all of a sudden you don’t want to meddle with my business?”
You were keeping your head on the ground, trying not to snap because you know it won’t help. And it’s his job, not yours.
“Isn't that what you wanted?”
He furrows his eyebrows as he gives you a perplexed look. He doesn’t know what you’re trying to get at, which is even more infuriating for him.
“What do you mean what I wanted? I never said I wanted you to not meddle with me,” he says in a slightly annoyed tone as he looks at you with a sharp glare.
“Yeah, that’s not what you said last night,“ you replied, getting tired of him acting like it’s not his fault why you’re acting this way.
He scoffs as he looks away, clenching his jaw. He didn’t expect you to bring that up so casually. The memories of what he said last night came rushing into his mind and honestly… he is starting to regret it.
“…That’s not what I meant… you know that.”
“It is pretty much what you meant. There’s no way you didn’t mean it one bit when you brought it up so many times.”
“Can’t you just forget that I said those things?”
Hearing that, you scoff and roll your eyes. Forget it? Just forget everything he said? How can you just forget it when everytime he snaps at you, it was the same thing he says over and over? There’s no way he didn’t mean it, right?
He can hardly reign himself in anymore. The frustration and agitation is getting the better of him. He is clenching his fists so hard now with a murderous glare in his eyes. He looks like he’s about to explode at any second from this whole situation.
“Why are you acting like this? Are you really that petty because I said some shitty things?”
He raises his voice and steps even closer to you, his eyes fixed on your face. At this point, he’s already lost his cool.
He continues, his voice is getting louder and louder as he talks.
“I told you to stop meddling in my business, so what? All of a sudden you’re acting like I told you to piss off and not talk to me anymore?!”
You scoff for the nth time this day, “I’m just minding my own life. Like you told me to.”
His grip on your shoulders tightens as his fingernails dig into your skin, it starts to hurt. The tension in the air is so thick you can cut it with a knife. He’s clenching his jaw so hard it looks like he’s about to gnaw all his teeth at this point from how strained he is because of all this.
“Katsuki.. you’re.. hurting me. Please, let go,” you said weakly, almost whispering. You closed your eyes shut as you felt his grip just tighten even more, you were already feeling his nails digging right on your skin, despite wearing a sleeve.
He just scoffs and lets out a dry, bitter laugh. He tightens his grip on your shoulders even more as he locks you in place. He continues to glare at you as he speaks with a cold and sharp tone.
“Why? You deserve it. If you’re being difficult, you should expect me to be rough back at you,” he said as if he was out of his mind.
“You’re so frustrated you don’t care if you hurt me?” you asked as if you don’t already know the answer, considering how he acts right now and whenever he’s tired and snapping at you.
“Let go, please. You were hurting me verbally.. through words.. just a day ago. And now you're.. doing it.. physically. You don’t even care anymore?” you muttered in a weak tone. You were tired and you can’t take anymore of this anymore.
He furrows his eyebrows and his grip on your shoulders tightens even more. He clearly doesn’t like you bringing that up, but he keeps his cold glare on you as he continues to respond.
“You still deserve it and should’ve seen it coming for you acting like this. After all, I gave you a way out when I told you to forget about it, but you just kept acting so damn cold.”
Your eyes just widened at his response. He’s.. not thinking clearly. I deserve him hurting me physically because I did what he wanted? Because I chose to stay out of his business like he told me to? Was it my fault?
You couldn’t take it anymore. You keep your eyes shut, preparing yourself to ask the question you never thought will cross your mind.
“Katsuki, at this point.. shouldn’t we just.. end this?”
He stops and freezes as he hears that word come from your mouth. He looks at you with his eyes wide as he feels a wave of shock go through his body.
“End this..?”
He says with a disbelieving tone. He can hardly believe the words that just came out of your mouth. With that, he lets go of your shoulder. You put a hand on it, considering how it hurts so much. He was gripping it like he intended to make you bleed.
As he lets go of your shoulders, he steps back, staring at you with a surprised and disbelieving look.
“What do you mean end this? Do you…”
He stops, the words getting stuck in his throat. It’s almost as if his mind can’t even process it.
“Do you mean end our relationship?”
He says, his voice sounding strained. His eyes are locked on your face, searching for any answers to the hundreds of questions swirling in his head right now.
You didn’t say anything, and your silence was his confirmation. He stops and stares at you. He can’t believe what you just said. It feels like someone had just suddenly ripped his heart out from his chest.
“Why…. Why do you want to end this?”
He asks, his voice hoarse and weak. He feels like he’s about to collapse from the wave of disbelief and shock that just hit him.
He steps closer to you and grabs you by the shoulders, looking at you with a desperate look. He just can’t understand what you’re thinking, and is desperately trying to cling onto anything that can salvage this whole situation.
“Can you just… can you explain why…?”
He says, his voice cracking from trying to hold back the emotions in his chest right now. You shut your eyes again. You chose to ignore the pain in his voice because you know how weak you are when it comes to him.
“I tell you what’s wrong, that you hurt me. You mock me and try to make it my fault. This just keeps happening over and over again. You don’t want to change, that’s why it’s happening again and again. It’s tiring,” you finally said, finally saying what you have been holding back out loud.
He falters as he hears you say that. His grip on you loosens as he stares at you, trying to process the words you just said.
“I…. I hurt you? Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
He can’t help but look at you, his expression now looking like a mixture of guilt, regret, and disbelief in himself. All this time, he thought you were just fine and didn’t know that he was hurting you with how he was acting.
You try not to roll your eyes as he asked that, “I did tell you! All you replied was that I deserve it!”
He stays silent at your reply. That’s right. You did tell him. He remembers now that you did, but he got so caught up in his anger that he brushed you off.
“…I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quietly. He doesn’t know how to make this better anymore, the regret of his actions now weighing heavily on his chest.
He steps even closer to you, his arms now reaching out to wrap around your waist, pulling you tight to his chest. He buries his head against your shoulder, his grip on you tight and desperate as he tries to hold back the flood of emotions in his chest right now.
“I… I’m so sorry,” he finally said.
It’s as if he’s at the verge of sobbing right now. He feels so guilty and remorseful for what he’s done to you, and now it’s all crashing down on him at the thought of losing you.
You didn’t do anything as he hugs you, didn’t hug him back. You just let him.
His voice is weak and shaky as he struggles to keep it together. His body is trembling from the mixture of emotions in his chest right now as he continues to hold you tight against him.
“Please… please tell me I can fix this…” He whispers against your shoulder, his voice raw and strained as he clings onto you, desperate to hold on.
He keeps his head buried against your shoulder, his hands gripping the back of your shirt tightly. It’s clear that he is trying his best to rein in his emotions right now, but he is on the verge of breaking down due to the guilt and regret that is crushing his chest right now.
“Please…. I’ll do anything, just don’t… don’t end this,” he practically pleads with you, his voice cracking slightly from his struggle to keep it together.
That was your last straw. You sighed, knees starting to give up. You were weak. Weak when it comes to him. You can’t handle it when he shows his emotions.. his vulnerable side. You’re weak and so hopelessly in love with him.
You didn’t say anything but wrap your arms around him, hugging him back and burying your face against his chest.
The moment you hug him back, he lets out a shaky exhale of relief. It’s at this point that he lets go of the last of his self control, and just breaks down into your embrace.
His whole body trembles as he clings onto you tightly, his arms wrapping around you as he buries his head against your shoulder. His body feels like it’s collapsing at this point as all the emotions in his chest just come out.
His chest is heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his body and mind overcome with an overwhelming tsunami of emotion.
“Please... I’m sorry... I’m so s-sorry...”
He keeps repeating it apologetically as he hugs you even tighter, his hands clenching the back of your shirt. It’s like he’s scared that if he lets go of you, you’ll just disappear and leave him forever.
“I promise... I’ll change. I’ll do anything to be b-better for you... Please, j-just.. don’t... leave me....”
It was your first time hearing him talk like that, admitting that it was his fault, and that he will change. For you. It was the first time you see him act like this. He was scared to lose you. So scared. And you don’t want to leave him either. Despite all the things that happened and what he did, you can’t help but want to be the one who stays beside him, protect him, take care of him, and love him.
“I’m.. holding you onto that,” you muttered in a soft, weak voice.
He nods vigorously against your shoulder, his arms around you hugging you even tighter. There’s a slight sense of relief in his body now after hearing that you’re not leaving.
“I will... I promise,” he says, his voice shaky and vulnerable as he holds you like he’s holding onto dear life right now. He has no plans of letting you go any time soon.
He takes a deep breath as he continues to hold you tightly in his arms. His body is still trembling slightly as he clings onto you, the whole emotional outburst leaving him feeling weak and vulnerable. He continues to bury his head against your shoulder, not wanting to let go just yet and wanting to stay like this with you for as long as possible.
Ok, i read ur rules! And say in ur master list that you do mha? If you still do mha, (idk if this is ok to ask) but can you do some fluff + angst with bakugo x fem! Reader, where she has a black magic quirk, and from a very early age she’s heard voices in her head. And they stop for a bit but she heard them agian and freaks out! So bakugo notices shes veeery quiet and asks her whats wrong and she spills the truth about her quirk and how if she over uses it she hears voices telling her to do bad things(NOTHING SERIOUS)
Bakugo and reader have a sorta friendship but with something going on between them? (Mutual pinning)
I HOPE THIS IS OK!!! I read ur rules and i hope this isnt violating them 🙏😭
don’t worry it isn’t lmao! but I’d love to do this so tysm for sending this in! so without further ado. . . enjoy ദ്ദി(•̀ ᗜ <) !!
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊
𖤐 synopsis: your quirk makes you different from others..you hear voices that give you malicious thoughts. but, your “friend” bakugou katsuki helps you silence them and explore both of your unspoken feelings for each other.
𖤐 trigger warnings: references to intrusive thoughts, mild psychological distress.
𖤐 pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
𖤐 side note: - - > 2nd part of this story
the voices had been quiet for months. you'd almost forgotten what it was like to have that constant background noise—the whispers that came with your quirk. black magic, they called it. the ability to manipulate shadows and dark energy, bending them to your will. it was powerful, useful even, especially during hero training at u.a.
but the cost was something no one else could see.
use us… we can make you stronger…
the first whisper came during lunch period. you froze mid-bite, your chopsticks hovering over your bento box as the familiar, slithering voice wrapped around your mind.
let us in… just a little more power…
"shut up," you muttered under your breath, closing your eyes tightly.
"the hell did you just say to me?"
your eyes snapped open to find bakugou katsuki standing over your lunch table, his crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion. of course, he'd choose now to approach. the two of you had this… thing. not quite friends, definitely not enemies. training partners who somehow always ended up paired together. late night study sessions that lasted longer than necessary. hands that lingered a second too long when passing notes.
"not you," you said quickly, heat rising to your cheeks. "sorry, i was just—"
he'll think you're crazy if you tell him. everyone always does.
"just what?" bakugou dropped into the seat across from you, his lunch tray clattering against the table. "you've been acting weird all morning. more than usual."
you managed a weak smile. "didn't know you paid such close attention, explosion boy."
he scoffed, but you didn't miss the slight pink tinge on his ears. "hard not to notice when you're spacing out during combat training. you nearly got yourself blasted."
you had almost forgotten about that. earlier in the day, during all might's class, you'd hesitated just a moment too long when the voices first started whispering again. bakugou had pulled his punch at the last second, his explosion detonating harmlessly to your left instead of directly in your face.
he's waiting for an answer. lie. lie.
"i'm fine," you said automatically, the rehearsed response you'd been giving teachers and classmates for years whenever the voices got bad.
bakugou’s eyes narrowed further. "bullshit."
the cafeteria around you buzzed with activity, your classmates laughing and chatting, oblivious to your internal struggle. kirishima and the others had left bakugou alone for once, perhaps sensing he had other plans for lunch period.
he'll leave you too when he knows the truth.
"i said i'm fine," you insisted, pushing your food away. your appetite had vanished the moment the voices returned.
bakugou leaned forward, his voice dropping to a growl that somehow managed to be both threatening and concerned at the same time. "you think i don't notice when something's off with you? we've been training together for months. i know when you're lying."
you stared at him, taken aback by his perceptiveness. it was easy to dismiss bakugo as just an aggressive hothead, but you'd learned there was so much more beneath that explosive exterior. he noticed things. he paid attention.
tell him… see how quickly he runs…
the voice was getting louder, more insistent. you pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to block it out.
"hey." bakugou’s voice softened marginally—as much as bakugou katsuki could soften anything. "let's get out of here."
before you could protest, he had grabbed both your bags and was heading for the exit, clearly expecting you to follow. and despite everything, you did.
he led you to the rooftop, a quiet spot where few students ventured during lunch. the spring air was cool against your skin, helping to clear your head slightly.
"talk," he demanded, dropping his bag and leaning against the railing.
you hesitated, wrapping your arms around yourself. "it's my quirk."
"what about it?"
don't tell him don't tell him don't—
"the voices are back," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. "when i use too much of my quirk, they… they start talking to me."
bakugou’s expression didn't change, but he watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.
"they've been quiet for a while," you explained, pacing now. "i thought maybe i'd gotten better at controlling it. but this morning, during training when i used that shadow field technique… they came back."
he thinks you're weak. broken. useless.
you shuddered, and bakugou took a step closer.
"what do they say?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically careful.
you laughed bitterly. "oh, you know. the usual. use more power. do bad things. helpful stuff like that."
bakugou’s face darkened. "have you told anyone? recovery girl? aizawa?"
you shook your head. "my parents know. it's been happening since i was little. the doctors said it's a… side effect. the darkness my quirk controls, it's like it has a consciousness of its own. the more i tap into it, the more it tries to influence me."
he'll report you. they'll expel you. you'll never be a hero now.
"they're talking right now, aren't they?" bakugo asked suddenly.
you froze, surprised again by his insight. "how did you know?"
"your eyes do this thing," he said, gesturing vaguely toward your face. "they get all unfocused, like you're listening to something far away."
you'd never realized you had a tell. the fact that bakugo had noticed made something warm flutter in your chest, momentarily drowning out the malicious whispers.
"yeah," you admitted. "they're telling me you'll think i'm crazy. that i should have kept my mouth shut."
bakugou snorted. "if i thought you were crazy, i wouldn't waste my time training with you."
he's lying to make you feel better. he pities you.
"they're saying you're lying," you said softly.
without warning, bakugou closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders. the touch was firm but not painful—grounding.
"look at me," he demanded.
you raised your eyes to meet his fierce crimson gaze.
"do i ever say shit i don't mean? do i ever fucking lie to make people feel better?"
you couldn't help but smile slightly. "no. that's… actually one of the things i like about you."
something flashed across his face—surprise, maybe even pleasure—before he schooled his expression back to determination.
"then believe me when i say this. i don't give a damn about the voices. we all have shit to deal with. my quirk could blow my arms off if i'm not careful. half-and-half has his daddy issues. deku has… well, everything about him. your thing is voices. so what?"
he doesn't understand. no one can understand.
"it's not that simple," you argued. "they get worse when i use more power. and sometimes…" you hesitated, never having admitted this part to anyone before. "sometimes i want to listen."
instead of recoiling in horror as you expected, bakugou’s grip on your shoulders tightened reassuringly.
"of course you do," he said gruffly. "power is tempting. i know that better than anyone. remember the sports festival?"
you did. his rage, his refusal to accept a victory he didn't earn. the way he'd been chained to the podium, wild-eyed and furious.
"but you didn't give in," you pointed out.
"neither will you," he said with absolute certainty. "you're too stubborn."
despite everything, you laughed. "was that a compliment, bakugou?"
he released your shoulders, a hint of that familiar scowl returning. "don't get used to it."
he'll never understand you like we do.
the whisper was softer now, less convincing. you took a deep breath, focusing on bakugo's presence—solid and real in front of you.
"they're quieter when you're around," you admitted. "i don't know why."
a flash of something like pride crossed his face. "good. then i'll just have to stick around more."
your heart skipped a beat. "what are you saying?"
bakugou crossed his arms, looking somewhat uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. "i'm saying next time they start talking, come find me. i'll make enough noise to drown them out."
the offer was so perfectly, uniquely bakugo that it made you smile despite everything. this gruff, explosive boy who showed his care through actions rather than words.
"are you sure?" you asked. "it could happen anytime. middle of the night. during class."
he shrugged. "so? not like i sleep much anyway."
he'll get tired of you. they all do.
"the voices say you'll get tired of helping me," you said quietly.
bakugou stepped forward again, and this time when his hand reached for you, it was to brush a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness.
"let me make something clear," he said, voice low and intense. "i don't do shit i don't want to do. and i don't walk away from challenges."
"is that what i am? a challenge?" you weren't sure if you should be offended or flattered.
the corner of his mouth quirked up in that half-smile that always made your heart race. "you're a pain in my ass. but…" he hesitated, clearly wrestling with what to say next. "you're my pain in the ass."
coming from bakugou, it was practically a declaration of love.
he'll never—
the voice was cut off as bakugou’s hand cupped your cheek, his calloused palm warm against your skin. for once, his perpetual scowl was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.
"tell the voices to shut the hell up," he murmured, "because i'm about to kiss you."
your breath caught in your throat. "bakugou…"
"katsuki," he corrected. "if we're doing this, you use my name."
"katsuki," you whispered, testing the feel of it on your tongue.
and then his lips were on yours, firm and warm and insistent. the voices that had plagued you all morning fell completely silent, drowned out by the thundering of your heart and the sensation of bakugou—no, katsuki—pulling you closer.
when you finally broke apart, the silence in your mind was blissful. whether it would last, you couldn't know. the voices would return eventually. but for now, with bakugou’s arms around you and his forehead pressed against yours, they couldn't reach you.
"they're gone," you breathed in wonder.
he smirked, that cocky confidence returning. "told you i could drown them out."
the bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of lunch period.
"we should get back," you said reluctantly.
bakugou didn't loosen his hold. "skip with me."
your eyes widened. "skip class? you never skip class."
"first time for everything," he shrugged. "besides, we need to figure out how to deal with those voices. might take all afternoon."
"and how exactly are we going to do that?" you asked, unable to keep the smile from your face.
his answering grin was both wicked and tender. "i have some ideas. but first—" he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours softly, "let's make sure they stay quiet a little longer."
as you melted into his kiss, you couldn't hear a single whisper—just the beating of two hearts and the promise that whatever darkness came, you wouldn't face it alone.
taglist: [open]
mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @gh0st-g1rll @luvseraphh
© property of kenzdolls
Hey darling! Lovely to see you back, your writings were a part of my daily routine as it serves me some comfort for the day! 😌💞
Was wondering if I may request a katsuki bakugou x reader (long term relationship) where the relationship kinda hit a plateau and everything irritated him a lot, however, reader takes in all the (uncalled and unnecessary) mean words said by katsuki whilst trying not to get mean with him either until one day, reader just silently cried and he noticed it, just pause and reflected on his actions and how he has been treating reader lately (ending with some comfort if possible, thank you!)
I noticed you do titles for your writings, if I may suggest; “Haven’t I given enough?” Of course, if you have an alternate title better suited for this, by all means do use it! ☺️
Haven’t I Given Enough?
The days had blurred into routine. Wake up, train, eat, work, sleep—repeat. Somewhere along the way, your relationship with Katsuki had settled into a monotonous rhythm, neither moving forward nor back. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy. You loved him, and you knew he loved you. But lately… lately, everything seemed to set him off.
“The hell are you staring at?” he snapped one evening as you looked at him across the dinner table.
You blinked, startled. “Nothing, I was just—”
“Tch. Then quit lookin’ at me like I did somethin’ wrong.” He shoved a bite of food into his mouth aggressively, shoulders tense.
You exhaled softly, looking down at your own plate. He had been like this for weeks—short-tempered, irritable, lashing out over the smallest things. You had chalked it up to stress. He had always been intense, but this was different.
At first, you tried to brush it off, meet his frustration with patience. You told yourself he wasn’t truly mad at you, just taking his exhaustion out on the person closest to him. But no matter how much understanding you offered, his words still cut.
“Can you stop hovering? I can do my own shit.”
“Damn it, Y/N, do you ever stop talking?”
“Fuck’s sake, do you have to be so damn sensitive about everything?”
Each one was a tiny wound, adding up until they felt like bruises beneath your skin. You swallowed the hurt each time, refusing to snap back, even when his words stung. But tonight, as you sat across from him in silence, something inside you cracked.
You didn’t even realize the tears had started falling until you saw his gaze shift, his chewing slowing as his eyes locked onto your face.
You weren’t sobbing, weren’t making a sound—just sitting there, staring at your untouched plate, tears slipping down your cheeks no matter how much you willed them to stop.
For the first time in weeks, the air between you stilled.
“…The fuck,” Katsuki muttered, his voice quiet, almost bewildered. His brows furrowed, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “Are you… cryin’?”
You pressed your lips together, hating how weak you must have looked. You shook your head slightly, but another tear slipped free, betraying you.
Katsuki put his fork down with a sharp clatter. You didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
And that was when it hit him.
The way you just sat there, silent, shoulders slightly hunched—not arguing back, not calling him out, not pushing him away—just… taking it. The weight of every harsh word, every frustrated sigh, every unfair remark.
His stomach twisted.
“…Shit.”
He ran a rough hand through his hair, guilt crawling up his throat. When the hell had he become this person? The kind who made you cry? The kind who took his bad days out on the one person who never deserved it?
His chair scraped against the floor as he pushed back from the table. You stiffened slightly when he moved, but before you could say anything, Katsuki was kneeling beside your seat, one of his calloused hands reaching up to cup your cheek.
“…Baby.” His voice was softer now, strained with something raw. “I’m sorry.”
You closed your eyes at the warmth of his palm, inhaling shakily. He had said a lot of mean things lately, but this—this felt genuine.
“I didn’t mean to…” Katsuki swallowed hard, his thumb brushing a stray tear away. “Didn’t mean to be a fuckin’ asshole. I just—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me lately. Work’s been… I dunno, shit. But that’s no excuse. You—” His grip on your cheek tightened, just slightly, like he needed you to hear him. “You don’t deserve that. Any of it.”
Your lip trembled. You wanted to say it was okay, that you understood, but the truth was… it hurt.
“…I know you don’t mean to,” you whispered, finally speaking, voice fragile. “But it still hurts, Katsuki.”
The way his whole body tensed at your words was almost heartbreaking. Like he hadn’t fully realized just how much he had been hurting you.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I—” He hesitated, frustration flickering in his eyes—not at you, but at himself. “I love you,” he said, voice firm but filled with something vulnerable. “I don’t say it enough, but I do. And I swear, I’ll do better.”
A shaky breath left your lips, the tension in your chest easing slightly. Slowly, you reached up, covering his hand with yours.
“…I love you too,” you murmured, voice thick. “Just… don’t push me away like that again.”
His throat bobbed as he nodded. “Yeah. I won’t.”
And for the first time in weeks, Katsuki didn’t just hear you—he listened.
I JUST GOT A CRUSH! ᯓ★ katsuki bakugou x f ! reader. 1.02k words / fluff / not proofread
bakugou is bad at social media. not exactly terrible, yet not so great either.
he really doesn’t care too much for it nor does he use it that often but he’s not that unfamiliar with it. he finds himself being on tiktok from time to time though he never really bothered to make it known that he had an account in the first place, just enjoying whatever he comes across and liberally blocks accounts that come up on his fyp that pissed him off. he never posts anything either so it didn’t matter. it’s a typical account with a generated username and a blank profile, 57 following, 0 followers.
recently he found a video that he wanted to share (an edit made by a fan) and posts the link on twitter, alongside saying how ‘it’s real sick’ of them to make that for him. he didn’t even know videos like that were famous. the effort and skill it took made him think it were cool.
what he also didn’t know, was that his profile would be revealed when you press on the link.
he got so confused when his account suddenly gained so many followers in just two days since he ‘never mentioned it.’ that was until he sees the replies on his tweet that the linked he used to share got him exposed.
he checks it out for himself which proved that he did actually share his account without knowing, but it’s ‘whatever.’ even after everyone found out he just used it like normal. it’s only a pain when they kept asking him to post something.
he truly is without care, yet he underestimates the fans who immediately stalk his ‘almost’ empty profile. you see, he doesn’t know that his reposts are public because he doesn’t actually look at his own profile. it’s usually a like, like, repost, favorite, like, then close app routine that he does before he goes to bed.
there's a few funny videos here and there, cooking videos and recipes too, things he'd like to try out soon for himself, or techniques that were really helpful for him. some are also videos of fan edits that he recently discovered, where the same video he shared was at the top of the page.
yet, there was one reoccurring face that kept popping up. a pretty girl who likes to lip sync some songs or show off their trinket hauls. sometimes mini vlogs from their day to day or makeup vids. and the topic trends everywhere: DYNAMIGHT TIKTOK CRUSH
when you saw it you really couldn’t believe it yourself that the one anonymous commenter on your videos was a pro-hero, your favorite nonetheless. though, it makes you a little nervous since your face is plastered all over different social platforms because you’re only active on that app. you don’t know where to go from there except squeal into your pillows. definitely flattered when you recall the many times he called you pretty on your vlogs.
as the rest dive deeper into his little ‘crush’ they even saw him comment on a few of your videos with compliments that sounded extra flirty. they teased him so hard saying how he looks like a creep especially with that profile. he’s never gonna hear the end of it. soon a new topic blows up that reads: GO FOR IT DYNAMIGHT
in his defense, if he were to give anyone an explanation, he thinks you have a really nice smile and a really soothing voice. also that you’re real cute and charming, that’s why he could watch and even rewatch all your content in one sitting. he couldn’t get enough of you, absolutely smitten. even had to ask kirishima how to turn on notifications for an account in the guise of turning it on for his agency's tiktok.
you’re also the only account he’s following that’s not a cooking channel or a pro-hero. and yeah it’s basically all that, a crush. not that he expects you to actually give him a chance, he’s happy just seeing your content.
however, the poor (not really) bakugou is actually unaware of the whole situation of his ‘tiktok crush’ trending since he was finishing a mission. only finding out when he got a call from kirishima asking if he found a girlfriend already. “what the fuck are you on about?”
“your fans are talking about how you keep reposting videos of this one girl on tiktok. i mean, it’s kinda obvious if you’re dating.” and it hits him, quick. your username (the one he could only remember, really) flashes in his head, but he laughs it off. “nah nothin’ like that. think i could shoot my shot though?” he asks him and kirishima says, “haha! i think she already beat you to it.”
not knowing what he meant, he swiftly gets home, showers, and lays on his couch whipping his phone out of his pocket to search up your username. and there he was, staring at his phone, unable to stop the smile on his face when he sees the thumbnail of your new video. he opens it immediately and there you were, holding a dynamight figurine (a very limited one too!) close to your cheek that you’ve never shown before until now. you never thought to show it thinking he might see it and think of you as weirdo. it gave the opposite effect actually, even made him more confident because who would've thought your pretty collection had a 'random guy' in there (definitely not random for you at least).
bakugou immediately likes, reposts and adds it to his favorites. even screen recording the whole thing cause you never gave access to download your videos—it was a very special moment for him okay!
he then comments, ‘you can have the real thing too.’
a few minutes later it’s got your icon with a heart beside it. he chuckles, happy that you finally noticed him. beams when he gets a notification that you followed him back.
he’s definitely going to dm you after he calms down. just hopes this time you don't beat him to it again.
do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
note : i love a katsuki with a crush i think it's so cute. but i love it even more that he's still confident about it!!! i like to think that reader probably has like 20k followers or something so pretty big but not as big as the others. the first time he met you he stumbles upon a video of you talking about the ice cream u just got and then he got hooked cause u were so cute when u were picking the flavor. PLEASE DO NOT SHARE THIS ON TIKTOK BTW >< also minors & ageless blogs please do not follow me!
Can you pls do an “asking my gf awkward questions” with Bakugo abt periods or any girls’ struggles? Ofc everything is jst pure innocence & genuine curiosity 🤍
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Wait….. that happens?! .𖥔 ݁ ˖
☘︎ . . . genre. fluff
☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader
☘︎ . . . requested? yes by anon
⤿ bakugou asking yn awkward questions.
It started with a TikTok trend.
Mina had dared Bakugou to try the “asking my girlfriend awkward questions” challenge. Of course, he scoffed and said, “That’s stupid.” But then he saw the look in your eyes, teasing, expectant, daring him back and well… maybe it wasn’t such a dumb idea.
So here you were, cuddled on the couch, phone recording as Bakugou awkwardly cleared his throat.
“Alright, I got questions,” he muttered, glaring at the phone like it personally offended him.
You giggled. “Fire away, Katsuki.”
“…So, uh. Period cramps. They actually hurt like that?”
You blinked. “Yeah. Imagine your insides trying to kill you once a month.”
His eyes widened. “What the f—seriously?!”
You laughed, watching him furrow his brows like he was preparing for battle.
“That’s not even the worst part,” you added casually. “There’s bloating, mood swings, cravings…”
“Cravings I get,” he mumbled. “You ate two whole pints of ice cream last week and cried watching a cat video.”
You swatted his arm. “Don’t expose me!”
He smirked, then hesitated before asking the next one. “…Is it true you just, like, randomly bleed? Even in your sleep?”
You nodded. “Yeah. It’s like a horror movie, but less fun.”
Bakugou looked genuinely horrified. “And y’all just… deal with it?”
You shrugged. “Yeah. We kinda have to.”
There was a pause. Then he muttered under his breath, “You’re all tough as hell.”
You blinked. “What was that?”
“I said you’re badass, alright?” he snapped, cheeks just a little red. “Having to go through all that every month? Shit’s brutal.”
You grinned and leaned into him. “Aww, is that sympathy from the great Bakugou Katsuki?”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, wrapping an arm around you. “…But yeah. I didn’t know it was that bad. You ever need anything, just tell me, alright?”
You smiled, heart full. “Thanks, Katsuki. You’re the sweetest.”
He scoffed. “Don’t tell the others.”
© jxwl4k 2025
BkDk | Getting Together | Miscommunication | Not Actually Unrequited Love | Light Angst | Love Confession | Pinning!Bakugou Katsuki
How To Fall Out Of Love With Your Best Friend: A Ten-Step Guide by delightfulduplicity
Katsuki couldn’t love Izuku. He didn’t deserve to.
So he did what he did best, and he made a plan.
A ten-step plan to fall out of love with his best friend, to be exact.
will bakugou choose seoul, korea or your wedding anniversary?
Bakugou had turned the damn house upside down three times.
“Where the hell is it?” He hissed under his breath, storming through the hallway closet for the third time in two days. He’d torn apart the shoe rack, the document folders, and even flipped through the cookbooks in the kitchen, just in case he’d used it as a bookmark. No dice. The damn passport was still missing.
His hair was sticking up more than usual—half from stress, half from the static of the hoodie he’d thrown on that morning in frustration. They were supposed to leave for Korea in three days. Three. It was the biggest pro-hero conference he’d ever been invited to—panel talks, interviews, awards. Best Jeanist, Lemillion, and even Halfie had their confirmations sent in already.
And what did he have?
An expired copy of his license (he got a new one; the expired one’s just in his drawer), a half-crushed protein bar, and a very pouty, very pregnant wife in the living room.
You had your feet up on the couch, ankles slightly swollen beneath the oversized hoodie you’d stolen from his wardrobe. You were scrolling on your phone with one hand, the other resting on your baby bump, lazily tracing circles. When Bakugou stomped past, you looked up with the slow blink of a cat.
“Still lost?” you asked, not bothering to hide your amusement. Even laughed under your breath.
The audacity, he thinks, though it wasn’t frustration. He could never be mad at you.
Because he knows you’ll get mad at him, too.
Bakugou didn’t answer. He grunted instead, pulling out another drawer in the cabinet near the TV.
“Maybe it grew legs and walked off,” you teased. “Or maybe your big fat ego swallowed it.”
He shot you a look. “Not helping.”
You hummed. “Not trying to.”
Your pout had gotten more dramatic since hitting six months. Bakugou noticed it more these days, how you’d stare down your food like it personally offended you, or how you’d sigh theatrically every time the topic of even him leaving the house came up. At first, you’d been supportive—even joked that you’d video call him during the conference and heckle him from the screen. But once you found out the biggest day of the event landed on your wedding anniversary, the whole game changed.
Suddenly he feels like he’s on house arrest.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” you murmured, taking a sip of the juice he made you this morning. “Maybe you’re meant to stay home this time.”
Bakugou scoffed. As if.
“Ain’t no damn sign. It’s just misplacin’ shit.”
“You don’t have to go,” you said again. “You could stay. Cuddle me. Eat cake. Listen to me cry about clouds.”
“You said I could go if I find my passport,” he pouts, brows furrowed, and his lips jutted slightly.
“I did, and don’t be mad,” you replied. “I want you to go. Really. You’ve worked so hard.”
“Then why do you look like you wanna punch me in the throat?”
You blinked at him. “Because it’s our anniversary and I’m hormonal. Sue me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So I hope you don’t find it.”
That was the end of that conversation.
-
The night before their anniversary came sooner than expected.
Bakugou had made a reservation at one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the city. Private booth, soft fairy lights, cityscape twinkling behind them. The host even laid a small bouquet of lavender on the table when he told them it was for a special occasion. He hadn’t told you where you were going, only grunted, “Wear that dress you like—that comfy one. You know the one.”
He hadn’t mentioned anything new about the passport ordeal. You, who figured he’d either given up or accepted fate, were mostly content to enjoy the evening.
You looked like a dream, so his focus was entirely on you. Someone who he somehow managed to have (maybe his bond with his guardian angels came in clutch and even contacted Cupid himself to arrange an arrow for you two).
You waddled into the restaurant, cheeks a little fuller, eyes glowing. He still looked at you like he couldn’t believe he got so lucky. He thinks it makes you shy, how intense his gaze got, even after everything—the morning sickness, the mood swings, the late-night hospital runs due to paranoia.
“You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your lower back as you walked in.
“Mm,” you hummed, leaning into his touch. You could barely hide your smile at this point. “You’re staring.”
He didn’t even deny it. “I am? So what? Can’t a man just appreciate his wife?”
Dinner went well, for the most part.
You had one hand on your belly, the other wrapped around his fingers on the table. You were halfway through your chocolate mousse when Bakugou reached into his jacket pocket and slid something across the table.
“No,” you said slowly, setting your spoon down. “You didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.”
He didn’t look smug at all, more like... hopeful.
Your brows furrowed. You reached for the passport, flipping it open.
There it was. His damn passport. Found. Intact. Stamped. His most recent picture was taken only a few months ago.
Yoh stared at it. Then at you. Then back at it again.
“…You found it?”
“Yup.”
“Where was it?”
He cleared his throat, gaze shifting to the side.
“…Behind the dresser in the guest room. Stuffed in that red envelope labeled ‘Important Shit,’ which you labeled in your handwriting, by the way.”
You paused. Your cheeks puffed again as your lips turned downward in the softest pout he’d ever seen. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, spoon idle.
“You’re really gonna go?”
“I want to,” he admitted. “But I don’t wanna leave you pissed off and lonely, either.”
You didn’t say anything at first. Just poked at your mousse with your spoon. Your lashes were low, and he could tell you were struggling. Not angry, just…sad.
Finally, you said, “It’s just one. It’s just one anniversary. We’ll have dozens more, right?”
“We will. We’ll have centuries more.”
“…And you’ll video call me. Every day.”
“Morning and night.”
“And text me when you land. And when you eat. And when you leave the venue. And—”
Bakugou reached across the table and tugged gently at your hand. His hands are rough against yours, but they’re filled with sincerity and utmost love that a man could give to his wife.
“Hey.”
You looked up.
His voice softened.
“Seriously, d’ya think I’d leave you without a plan?”
You blinked.
“I’m leavin’ you flowers and your cake. I told Kirishima to drop off that spa basket thing you said you wanted last month. And your mom’s stayin’ over the night of. I made sure. I even stocked the fridge.”
Your mouth parted slightly, tilting your head to the side. “You…did all that?”
“Yeah.” He looked almost bashful now, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t want you to think I forgot. Even if I ain’t here physically. I’m still here.”
Your eyes shimmered just a bit. A good sign, Bakugou notes.
Then you smiled—soft and tired and affectionate.
“God, you’re gonna make me cry.”
“Tch. Don’t cry. I’ll look like an asshole.”
You laughed then, nose crinkling. “You are an asshole. But a sweet one.”
“Yeah, you love me.”
“I do.”
You two didn’t talk about the passport again that night. Not after that.
Instead, you finished dessert. Slowly. Your hand stayed in his the whole time.
When you walked out of the restaurant, he kept his arm around your shoulders, guiding you carefully down the steps like you were made of glass. You leaned into him, soft and warm, your belly pressing into his side.
And when they got home, you told him, “Let’s open the anniversary cake early.”
He didn’t say no. Not when you looked that happy. It doesn’t matter that he’s already full from the chocolate mousse you two had earlier.
When night finally settled, and Bakugou’s wiping the excess frosting off the corners of your lips with a napkin, he hears you say, “Come home soon, okay?”
He nodded, then softly kissed the crown of your head.
“Always.”
Always come home to you.
-
The morning of Bakugou’s flight started earlier than usual.
He had been up before the alarm even went off, brushing his teeth with the kind of intensity that only came from years of military-grade discipline… or nerves (also because he wants all bad germs on his mouth to die). Not that he’d ever admit to the latter. He stood in front of the mirror, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling from the hot shower as he stared at his reflection.
This was it. The day he was supposed to fly out to Korea.
Except—he wasn’t going.
Not really.
He’d made his decision last night, somewhere between the weight of your hug and the feel of your heartbeat against his body when you fell asleep on his chest. The moment you started snoring softly, your nose slightly buried in his shirt, he realized there was no way in hell he was getting on that plane.
Not this time.
But you didn’t need to know that just yet.
Because if there was one thing Bakugou knew about his wife, it was that you’d throw a fit if he skipped a life-changing professional opportunity just to spend your anniversary folding baby laundry and rubbing your swollen ankles. Plus, he knew you’d never allow him to stay. And if you knew he was lying about leaving, you’d huff and puff until he actually made him go.
So, he planned ahead. Like a goddamn mastermind.
By the time you woke up—slightly groggy with pillow lines on your cheek—he had already “packed.” His suitcase was zipped shut and positioned neatly by the door. His travel duffle bag sat upright next to it. His travel documents were tucked inside an envelope labeled “Do Not Open Unless Emergency.” (Totally blank inside.)
You blinked at him sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you waddled into the living room in his oversized T-shirt. One of the many shirts he was sure was missing from his closet.
“You already packed?” you murmured, voice small and pouty.
He turned from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. Acting too nonchalant to not give anything away.
“Yeah,” he said. “Didn’t wanna rush.”
You crossed your arms over your bump. “It’s only a three-hour flight, Katsuki. Not an expedition to the Arctic.”
“Still gotta prep,” he said, biting back a grin.
Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, but the smell of something sweet distracted you. Bingo.
He stepped aside, revealing a neatly arranged dessert box sitting on the counter. Inside: four of your favorites—strawberry shortcake with extra whipped cream, a slice of creamy Basque burnt cheesecake, a generous portion of tiramisu, and your current obsession: mango sticky rice.
“You bought me desserts?” you awed.
“I bought you a stack,” he corrected. “Don’t think I don’t know you get all sad and start craving sugar when I leave.”
You scoffed. “I do not.”
“You do,” he said, crossing his arms smugly. “You pouted so hard last time I left, I came back to find the fridge empty and you passed out with a half-eaten ice cream tub on the couch.”
“That was one time!”
“And I’m not takin’ chances.”
He bent forward, pressed a kiss to your cheek, then to your rounded belly. “Eat well. Don’t lift anything heavy. Text me when you’re sleepy. I’ll land by lunch. Kirishima’s already on the way, but it’ll take a while because of traffic since the bridge is getting repaired.”
“You’re acting suspicious,” you said, frowning as you clung to his shirt. “You never say goodbye this… nicely.”
“That’s rude,” he muttered. “I’m always nice.”
“No, you’re normally grumpy and say something like, ‘Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.’”
He smirked. You weren’t wrong entirely.
“Well, maybe I don’t wanna come back to find out you’ve cried over an empty dessert box.”
Your lip wobbled, and he kissed you again—softly this time, with an extra squeeze to your waist.
“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s just for two nights.”
-
He left around nine. Or at least, pretended to.
Instead of heading to the airport, he drove straight to his agency, parked in the underground garage, and holed up in his office. There was a bottle of juice in the mini fridge, emergency snacks in the bottom drawer, and an absurd number of congratulatory emails flooding his inbox that he ignored.
The hours ticked by slowly.
He checked his phone a dozen times. No calls. No texts. Just one blurry photo from you of the dessert box with the caption: You’re lucky I’m in a sugar coma right now. Or I’d be mad you left without triple kissing me goodbye.
He snorted.
Around lunchtime, he got restless. Then irritated.
Then, at exactly 1:00 P.M., he got in the car and drove home.
No warning.
No heads-up.
He half-expected you to be lounging in the living room, watching drama reruns and fanning yourself while complaining about heartburn. But when he pulled up the driveway and unlocked the front door—
The house was suspiciously quiet.
His brows pulled together.
“[Name]?” he called out, stepping in.
Nothing.
He frowned and shut the door behind him, stepping out of his boots. He heard a thud from the back hallway. Then a low grunt. A shuffle.
His eyes narrowed.
Then he heard you muttering.
“Come on, come on, I’m not that heavy—”
He rounded the corner—and stopped cold.
There you were.
Standing in the hallway. Sweaty. Red-faced. Holding a large box half your size with both hands, your bump barely giving you enough room to balance it. Your lip was caught between your teeth as you struggled to carry what was definitely one of the boxes he had explicitly labeled: Do Not Touch.
“…What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
You screamed.
You literally screamed—jumping nearly out of your skin, eyes wide like you saw a ghost.
Or a burglar.
Or both, at this point.
“—Katsuki! I thought you were in Korea—what the hell—”
“Put the box down.”
“You can’t just walk in like that, I thought—I—”
“Put it down, [Name].”
You dropped it with a loud thunk, wobbling backward and grabbing your shoulders.
“Oh my god, I thought you were a home invader! I was ready to throw a candle at you—why are you back?!”
Bakugou marched toward you, still wide-eyed with a mixture of rage and pure panic. He can’t believe this at all. “More importantly, why the fuck are you lifting boxes?!”
“I was bored!”
“Bored? So you decided to tear a disc and pop a blood vessel?!”
“I didn’t tear anything! And it wasn’t heavy; it’s mostly baby blankets!”
He crouched down instantly to pick it up—still heavy, despite your excuses—and carried it to the nursery, grumbling the entire way. “Goddamn woman’s gonna give me a stroke,” he muttered, though there was never any heat in his words.
You waddled after him, still stunned.
“Wait. Why are you here?!”
“I never left.”
“You… what?”
“I stayed at the agency. Figured I’d come back after you thought I was gone. Catch you red-handed.”
“You liar!”
He turned toward you, his frustration subsiding.
“You’re not even a good liar! You went full fake goodbye mode this morning! You even left me mango sticky rice!”
“Yeah. ‘Cause I knew you’d snoop around and start being reckless the second you thought no one was watching.”
Your cheeks puffed up again. That damn pout.
“I was just nesting,” you mumbled.
“Nesting doesn’t involve deadlifting half a closet,” he shot back. “You promised you’d take it easy.”
“…I thought you were in Korea.”
“Yeah, well, again, surprise.”
You blinked up at him again, eyes soft now, overwhelmed. “…You really stayed just for me?”
When he sets the boxes down, he exhaled and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye. “You really thought I’d leave you alone on our anniversary? Pregnant? Carrying boxes? Eating dessert by yourself? What do you take me for? A shitty husband?”
You hit his chest weakly.
“You’re so unfair,” you muttered.
“I know,” he grinned. “And I love you.”
You melted then. Completely.
Wrapping your arms around him, your bump pressing into his stomach, you buried your face in his chest and whispered: “I love you too, you dramatic maniac.”
That night, there was no flight. No press. No conference.
Just takeout on the couch, your feet in his lap, mango sticky rice on your plate, and his hand splayed across your belly like a homecoming gift.
Bakugou may have missed a headline.
But he made the right choice.
And that mattered more.
SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
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Characters: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: A mission goes wrong, and you’re severely injured. Bakugo’s reaction exposes feelings he’s kept hidden. Content Warnings: Injury, blood, mild language, emotional distress WC: 1008 words // 5.6k chars
- ✧ Fevered Affection (Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)
Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: Dabi isn’t one to show weakness, but a nasty fever leaves him vulnerable and in desperate need of comfort. You’re there to care for him, and as his defenses drop, he reveals a softer side that he rarely lets anyone see. Content/Tags: Sickness, Vulnerability, Light Teasing, Soft Dabi, Sick!Dabi WC: 805 words // 4.5k chars
- ✧ Gentle Comfort (Genre: Slight Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: You’re on your period and feeling like absolute crap, but Dabi always knows how to help. With a heating pad, plushies, chocolates- and cuddles, your boyfriend always knows how to make your pain a bit more bearable. Content/Tags: Period Pain, Comfort, Fluff, Thoughtful Dabi, Soft!Dabi, we LOVE a caring king, Established Relationship, Physical Pain (CRAMPS), Emotional Vulnerability WC: 895 words // 4.9k chars
- ✧ Home is With You (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst - Fluff)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: In the darkness of the night, Dabi battles the ghosts of his past while you offer him the comfort he struggles to accept. Content Warnings: Nightmares, Emotional Distress, Mentions of a Toxic/Abusive Household, Vulnerability, Tears WC: 1594 words // 8.6k chars
- ✧ Haunted Mansion Shenanigans (Genre: Halloween, Fluff, Humor)
Characters: Shigaraki, Dabi, Kurogiri, Toga, Reader (Gender Neutral), theres also a bit of Dabi x Reader loll i got carried away w my fav villain udwoq Rating: T Summary: It's Halloween season, and your family's old mansion becomes the perfect backdrop for a gathering of the League of Villains. Content Warnings: None really, ig Horror elements?? LMAO. Language WC: 3007 words // 17k chars
- ✧ Here With Me (Genre: Angst, Romance)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: As Dabi prepares to leave for the final battle, time slips away, leaving him with so many things left unsaid. He won't have the chance to tell you how much he loves you or how badly he wishes things were different. The engagement ring hidden in his pocket feels heavier than ever. Content Warnings/Tags: Themes of violence, emotional turmoil, intense conversations about past trauma, and the potential for character death, angst and more angst, SPOILERS. Dabi has an engagement ring for reader (im balling my eyes out) WC: 2057 words // 11k chars
- ✧ Hidden Flames (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff)
Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: After a mission leaves Dabi battered and exhausted, he retreats to his room to nurse his wounds alone. When you show up, intent on caring for him, he’s reluctant at first. But as you treat his injuries, kissing his scars and reminding him that he doesn’t have to face everything alone, Dabi realizes just how much he values your presence. Content/Tags: Injuries, Vulnerability, Comfort, Mutual Pining, Scar Kisses, Established Crush, Soft Dabi, Hurt/Comfort WC: 1365 words // 7.4k
- ✧ Mornings With You (Genre: Fluff, Romance)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: A rare lazy morning with Dabi, where the world outside doesn't exist, and it's just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. Content/Tags: Fluff, Domestic Comfort, Lazy Morning, Clingy Dabi, Soft Moments, Possessive Dabi, Soft!Dabi WC: 892 words // 4.9k chars
- ✧ Morning Bliss (Genre: Fluff, Romance)
Characters: Spinner (Shuichi Iguchi) x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Wrapped in the warmth of a cozy morning, you’re hesitant to leave the comfort of your bed—especially with Spinner holding you close, his arms wrapping around you like a personal blanket. As you snuggle in, the two of you agree: the outside world can wait. Content/Tags: Cuddling :3, Spinner being a teddy bear, cozy shizzle n being lazy together<3 WC: 838 words // 4.7k chars
- ✧ Midnight Comfort (Genre: Fluff, Family, Comfort)
Characters: Aizawa Shota x Present Mic (Hizashi Yamada), Eri Rating: G Summary: The night is quiet as Aizawa drifts into a deep sleep, but a small hand tugging on his sleeve pulls him awake. Eri, flushed with fever and feeling unwell, has come to him for comfort. Joined by Present Mic, the two heroes do all they can to soothe her fears and ease her discomfort. Content/Tags: Sick!Eri, gentle comfort, established family dynamics, Aizawa and Present Mic caring for Eri. WC: 554 words // 3.1k chars
- ✧ Mrs. Todoroki in the Making (Genre: Fluff, Humor, Romance)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a mission, you, being drunk, call Dabi to take you home, only to spill some wild confessions about him being a Todoroki and claiming you'll be "Mrs. Todoroki" one day. Content/Tags: Fluff, Humor, Confessions, Drunk Confession, Dabi Teasing, Light Angst, Embarrassment, Established Relationship WC: 1200 words // 6.7k chars
- ✧ Ponytails of Comfort (Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Slight Angst)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a draining mission, you come home feeling defeated. Dabi notices your mood and offers a lighthearted way to help you unwind by letting you style his hair- again. Content/Tags: Soft!Dabi, Emotional Support, Fluff, Hair Styling, HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPSS WC: 1094 words // 6.2k chars
- ✧ Pain Killers (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: You’re curled up in bed with a splitting headache, the pain nearly unbearable—until Dabi slips into the room and wraps you in his arms. His gentle touch and quiet humming help you find peace, and as you drift off, you realize there’s no place safer than here with him. Content/Tags: Soft!Dabi, Dabi humming a lullaby LMAO, comfort, cuddling, fluff, soft mementoossss, kissy kissing WC: 1144 words // 6.3k chars
- ✧ Stardust & Dynamite (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slightly Suggestive)
Characters: Pro Hero Bakugo Katsuki x Popstar Reader (Fem!Reader) Rating: T Summary: On the final night of your Short N’ Sweet tour, you dedicate your most famous song, “Juno,” to the person who holds your heart—Pro Hero Bakugo, your fiancé. As the lyrics hint at a future together, Bakugo’s reaction is... heated. Content Warnings: Public performance, slight suggestiveness, mention of starting a family, fame/spotlight, spicy lyrics WC: 1128 words // 6.3k chars
- ✧ Shattered Glass (Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Dabi's need to provoke you backfires when you leave in anger, leading to a kidnapping that leaves you fighting for survival. But sometimes, in the darkest moments, the light can find its way back. Content Warnings: Kidnapping, Serious Injuries, Panic Attacks, Emotional Vulnerability, Dabi making the reader jealous on purpose. WC: 4989 words // 28k chars
- ✧ Silent Embrace (Genre: Romance, Comfort, Slight Angst, Fluff)
Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: Dabi isn’t one for words, but when he finds himself wrapped around you in the quiet, there’s no need for them. He lets his guard down, revealing the warmth he usually hides. Content/Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Cuddling, Established Relationship WC: 1002 words // 5.6k characters
- ✧ The Place Where I Belong (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)
Characters: Todoroki Shoto x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Todoroki’s nightmares haunt him in the middle of the night, and only you can help him find peace. Content Warnings: Panic attack, mentions of childhood trauma, brief mention of Endeavor (father/abuse-related trauma). WC: 923 // 5.1k chars
- ✧ Tiny Flames (Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy)
Characters: Chibi!Dabi x Fem!Reader) Rating: T Summary: You’ve made a name for yourself as a feared solo villain. As your eighteenth birthday arrives, you eagerly await the appearance of your soulmate's chibi form. But when midnight strikes without any sign, you resign yourself to the belief that perhaps soulmates are just a myth. However, after a particularly exhausting mission, a sudden flash of light brings Chibi Dabi into your life. Content Warnings: Minor language?, themes of villainy WC: 1612 words // 9.4k chars
- ✧ Todoroki Shoto's Perfect Date (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Headcanons)
Character: Todoroki Shoto Rating: G Summary: Todoroki Shoto's idea of a perfect date is something simple yet meaningful, filled with quiet moments and subtle affection that show just how much he values being with you. Content Warnings: None
- ✧ The Luckiest (Genre: Fluff, Romance)
Characters: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Shigaraki doesn't understand how you ended up with him, not like he's complaining. He's the luckiest man alive. Content/Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Emotional Vulnerability, Domestic Moments, Soft!Shigaraki WC: 1245 words // 6.9k chars
- ✧ Unspoken Affection (Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy, Slight Angst)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Dabi has never understood love, but when you’re around, something deep inside him stirs, and he can't figure it out-- Until you watch a movie together. Content/Tags: Fluff, League of Villains, Movie Marathon, Cuddling, Sleepy!Dabi, Shy!Dabi, Confused!Dabi WC: 725 words // 4.1k chars
- ✧ Worn Down (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)
Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a grueling mission, Dabi returns exhausted, and you offer him the comfort and care he rarely accepts. Content Warnings: Mild mentions of exhaustion, caretaking WC: 784 words // 4307 chars
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