This Is How I Look At My Phone When The Fic Is So Horny It Genuinely Makes Me Worry For The Writers Well

"c'mere."

katsuki was so... normal all evening. so subdued. dinner with your friends was nice in a familiar, comfortably unremarkable way. everyone who gathered around the table at the restaurant had chatted happily, getting each other up to date on any developments in their personal or professional lives. jokes were made about the high school days, and failed romantic endeavours (mainly denki's), and tenya's new haircut that he doesn't quite like.

then the bills were paid, and rides were arranged, and katsuki walked you to the car with a hand on the small of your back.

it was normal. everyone was normal.

but now katsuki's like this.

he has you pinned up against the wall just inside the barely-closed door of your shared apartment before you can even take off your shoes. his mouth is hot on yours, licking messily into your mouth in a way that makes you dizzy.

"katsuki, wait—oh!" your head thumps back against the wall behind you as your boyfriend hitches one of your legs up around his waist and grinds the defined musculature of his upper thigh between yours.

"done waiting," he grunts out quietly against your parted lips, pressing your bodies even closer together.

this isn't like him; the freneticism, the almost stifling haste with which katsuki is trying to devour you. he's usually more reserved than this. more trepidatious. katsuki has always treated you like you were precious. too precious, you sometimes think. like an antique sake set made of porcelain so fine that it could shatter in a too-tight grip—like something he couldn't afford to break.

"what's gotten into you?" you ask as katsuki's mouth trails white-hot down your throat towards your collarbone, the kisses he presses against your skin searing as he moves on to the next.

his only answer is to slip his hands up underneath the skirt of your dress, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your thighs.

"katsuki!" you gasp in surprise as the cool air kisses the slickness of your newly-exposed skin.

the pad of katsuki's thumb brushes your clit, and your knees nearly buckle.

"katsuki, stop."

it's quiet after you push him away from you, the air heavy as you laboriously draw it into your aching lungs.

katsuki stands at arm's length, frozen in surprise. in spite of his strength—overpowering you in every possible physical way—he hadn't resisted you in the slightest when you instinctively pushed against him. if anything, he'd willingly taken the step back to give you the distance you need.

he looks at you though his lashes, his chin tucked down towards his chest, half-hurt and half-guilty.

"sorry," he says quietly, mumbled through pursed lips as he shuffles another half step back.

your hand shoots out towards him, grabbing him by the lapel of his unzipped jacket.

"hey," you say, equally quiet but less sheepish than his own words. "don't do that."

katsuki lets you pull him back into your space as effortlessly as you'd pushed him away. you like it when he's close like this. like when that soft, sweet sort of smell that always clings to him envelops you too.

"i'm happy to let you take off whatever article of my clothes you want, i'd just like to take my shoes off first," you say to him, so close your lips are almost brushing. the tops of katsuki's cheeks are rosy, and his lashes are fluttering as he listens to your words. you smile a little. "if that's not too much to ask."

katsuki helps you out of your heels, and then clings to you all the way down the hallway into your bedroom where the two of you go toppling into bed. your boyfriend is normally militant about not letting 'outside clothes' into the sheets, but he says nothing about either of your outfits on the soft cotton as he pulls your body on top of his.

but nothing about katsuki is normal tonight. you've already figured that much out.

you just can't quite understand why.

"you're raring to go tonight," you say with a laugh as katsuki's hands slip up under your dress again, this time with you ensconced upon his lap. your panties are somewhere in the genkan, so this time there's no barrier between his touch and your skin.

"what's wrong with that?" katsuki bites back, but even in his snark he's still soft with you. deftly, his hands slip around to the back of your dress, sitting up so the two of you are chest to chest in bed, and tugs the zipper of the garment down. the material slips down your arms until the dress is left pooled around your waist, nothing but your bare skin left on display. it's hard to make out the colour of katsuki's eyes in the dark, but it's impossible to miss the desire in his gaze as it traces over your newly exposed chest. "what's so wrong about me wanting you?"

you pause for a moment as you consider his unexpectedly earnest words. "there's nothing wrong with it," you finally reply, reaching up and tracing your fingers through the blonde hair at his temple. "it's just a little weird."

"weird?" katsuki echoes, but his repetition sounds incredulous.

he uses a hand on the small of your back—just like how he'd walked you to your car after dinner, but this time a bit more forceful—to pull your body back against his. you brace your hands on his shoulders as you sit in his lap, staring down at him.

"i've been in love with you since we were fifteen," katsuki says. it's ardent. insistent, even. like he's desperate for you to understand. "i've wanted you since we were fifteen. there's nothin' weird about it."

you blink. a little dumbstruck. a little lovesick.

and suddenly you understand his behaviour a little more. it's all a bit clearer.

you dip down, pressing a featherlight kiss to katsuki's lips. then another; deeper and longer.

"you were feeling nostalgic, huh?" you murmur breathlessly against katsuki's mouth, cupping his face between your palms. his cheeks are burning hot underneath your touch. it makes butterflies lick in the pit of your stomach.

you'd caught katsuki's eyes on you a few times tonight at dinner, but really hadn't thought much of it. at one point you'd moved seats to chat with momo about her upcoming wedding (and to admire the ring on her finger) and more than once you'd met katsuki's gaze from the other end of the table where he was seated with the boys.

katuski kisses the back of his teeth, tilting his face away from you slightly.

"fuckin'... izuku said something earlier that just..." he seems to be struggling to find the words. you give him the time he needs. "said some sappy shit about growin' up. about how we all ended up happy."

you feel a twinge in your chest as katsuki mumbles the admission. he's struggling to meet your gaze, and instead leans his forehead against your chest.

"and i looked at you across the table, 'n i just... i kept thinkin' about being a fifteen year old brat staring at you across a classroom. kept thinkin' about how he'd never believe it if i could tell him how we ended up."

it's quiet for a moment as katsuki holds you. and you hold him. the hot, hot flush of his face against your bare skin.

"fifteen-year-old you probably would've tried to kick thirty-year-old you's ass."

katsuki laughs, a warm wash of breath breaking against your skin.

"yeah, probably." he nods, finally lifting his head. he stares up at you, his hands patting gently up and down your back. he smirks a little. "woulda popped a boner at the thought of seein' you like this, too."

"so the two of you have that in common, huh?" you tease him, wiggling your hips a little in his lap where proof of your accusation presses against you.

katsuki kisses you to hide the smile on his face, twisting both of your bodies to lay you down against the soft sheets of your shared bed that katsuki dutifully launders every sunday. he slips your dress down your hips to leave you bare, and tugs his own t-shirt off to join it on the bedroom floor soon after.

"katsuki?"

the man suckling a bruise into your throat groans a little at your quiet call of his name. "if you push me away again i'm gon—"

"i love you too, y'know."

you feel him swallow hard, his face still tucked into the crook of your neck. his hands are trembling a little—just like the first time he touched you, a few years after graduation when your paths crossed again. you can feel his heart thundering in his chest.

your own beats just as loudly underneath it.

because fifteen year old katsuki wasn't the only one sneaking glances across the room. and katsuki isn't the only one who feels so grateful about how you two ended up happy together.

Bakugou answering a phone call as he’s getting fucked 👉👈

⊹ ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ divine agnes ! luv this one. m!reader ♡

katsuki really needed to get his shit together.

he had been staring at his ringing phone for a solid minute now, his fingers trembling as he reached for it, barely managing to hit the answer button before his body jerked involuntarily. his head is spinning, and all he could think about is—

“fuck—”

“bakugou?! what the hell, man? where have you been?” eijirou’s voice rang through the speaker, sharp with worry. “you haven’t shown up to work all week! we thought you got kidnapped!”

katsuki bit back a whimper, his head pressing into the pillows, jaw clenched so hard it ached. his body was burning, shaking, stretched, and full, and you—you were still moving.

slow.

deep.

deliberate.

you chuckled against his skin, lips brushing over his ear. “c’mon, ‘tsuki,” you murmur, rolling your hips—to the point that katsuki could feel the tip of your cock pressing so deep inside him it feels suffocating, making him shudder.

“talk.”

he sucked in a breath, forcing his voice steady. “the fuck are you guys so worked up for?”

“dude, are you serious?!” denki cut in, his voice high-pitched with panic. “you vanished! no patrols, no reports; your agency said you took a leave without even telling us! what the fuck is going on?!”

katsuki barely heard him—barely processed anything past the slow drag of your cock inside him, the unbearable heat curling in his gut. he tried to stay still, tried to keep his breathing even, but you were fucking impossible, pressing wet kisses to his jaw, hands gripping his hips, holding him down and taking your time, like you had all the patience in the world.

“‘tsuki,” you whispered, your voice dripping with amusement, fucking him just right—the way he wanted you to.

katsuki actually whimpered this time around.

he pressed the mute button on his phone, his whole body jerking, his thighs trembling. “you fucking bastard—“

you laughed, biting down on katsuki’s shoulder, sucking a mark into his skin. “go on, baby,” you told him, voice thick with mock sympathy. “answer your little friends.”

katsuki was gonna kill you.

he took a shaky breath, unmuting the call. “i’ve been busy,” he gritted out, his voice dangerously close to cracking. “what the fuck do you want?”

“busy doing what?! you never take this many days off, man; we were about to file a missing person’s report!” eijirou, bless his heart, sounded genuinely distressed. “are you okay? where are you?”

you thrust your hips forward. katsuki choked. all the words that were left on his tongue died out.

his hand flew to the mute button again, teeth sinking into his lip, his whole body tensing as you continuously abused his sweet spot. “shit—fuck—“

you smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to katsuki’s neck. “careful, ‘tsuki,” you purred. “don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

katsuki shook, his fingers digging into your arms, trying—desperately fucking trying—to hold himself together. “stop moving,” he hissed.

you continued your ministrations, rolling your hips in a slow, deep thrust that had katsuki thanking the gods to have given him a man to provide him such pleasure—even if it meant growing addicted to your cock snug in his ass.

“hm, no.”

“bakugou?!”

his eyes snapped open.

shit. shit.

he still hadn’t answered.

katsuki fumbled to unmute again, barely managing a “i’m fine!” before you snapped your hips again, forcing a broken gasp from his lips.

“…dude, are you sick?” denki asked, suspicious. “you sound—like, really weird.”

katsuki clenched his teeth, murder in his eyes as he glared at you. “i said i’m fine,” he growled, but it barely sounded convincing with how breathless he was.

you licked a stripe up his neck, grinning against his skin. “if you mean fine as in fine that you’re still clenching around my cock, then by all means, you’re right, ‘tsuki.”

katsuki hit you.

you just laughed, your thrusts slow and deep, making sure katsuki felt every inch of you.

“listen, man,” eijirou sighed. “just—just let us know if you need anything, okay? we’re here for you. just… don’t disappear on us like that again.”

katsuki barely managed to hum in response before you snapped your hips hard, and katsuki had to slap the mute button again, muffling a wrecked sob into your shoulder.

“you should thank them for worrying about you, baby,” you tease, your voice mocking as you thrust even deeper, making katsuki keen.

“be polite.”

katsuki’s hands shook.

he was going to kill you.

…right after he let you stuff him full again.

if you love me right then who knows? ✧.*

bnha various x pop star! reader

ya! pro-hero characters (teacher! izuku for his section), a little nsfw but mostly cute/fluff headcanons, as always please read responsibly🤍 i love you ms carpenter

song (album, technically): short n’ sweet

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

- katsuki at the height of his career, may possibly be the most famous person in the country. men and women alike adore him, and its rare he can go out without cameras in his face and people asking for autographs. he, of course, doesn’t filter any of his annoyance. his pr team works overtime for him. he’s learned that being famous is fickle and fleeting. he’s made up his mind that if the world only gives him 15 minutes, he’d light it up so bright no one could forget it. its who he is ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

- he’s already very popular. so when the news of pro-hero dynamite and rising star [y/n] [l/n] had allegedly begun seeing each other? they freak out. 

- he doesn’t bother to hide it, anyway. you meet at some fancy gala. you’re both there for publicity, and by the time you run into him, he’s ready to go home. but there’s something about your voice, the way everyone seems to adore you, that reels him in. somehow, he finds himself in your good graces, and now he’s thought of you every night since then.

- before you, he’d only listen to hard rock, and was kind of an asshole about it. that doesn’t change, but now when he hits shuffle one of your glittery girly songs will play. and yes, he listens all the way through. ꕥ

- theres video compilations of him bringing you up during interviews. its second nature to him, being wrapped around your finger. but he’s also quick to bite anyone who even thinks of talking bad about you. he’s yours, and wants the whole world to know it. he’d never admit this, but he’s scared of messing up. he doesn’t want to give you reasons to him, or to be a motherfucker that embarrasses you. if he can help out, he never wants to be the reason for your next breakup album.

- he’s your biggest supporter. he often gets fed up with the paparazzi and their invasiveness, especially when all he wants to do is watch his partner perform. however, he has a soft spot for your fans, the ones who have supported you and gotten you all the love you deserve. he claims friendship bracelets and hats are dumb but doesn’t hesitate to receive bracelets your fans make at concerts. most of the time, its brightly coloured beads with song lyrics or little inside jokes from your fandom. he once got a bracelet that was dynamite-themed and he keeps it on his dresser. he loves being accepted by you and the people that love you.

- he has 100 reasons to be cocky, and the fact that theres songs you’ve written about him is one of them. you’re out here singing about good bed chem and making tongue paintings and everyone knows he’s what inspired it. makes sense when you look at him.

- oh, and speaking of concerts? he can’t be there every time- hero work is demanding- but for you? he’s flexible. watching you perform makes his entire week. he’ll watch from the wings, nodding along with the beat, his heart swelling when he hears you belt and hold the note. the best part is what the audience doesn’t get to see- him catching you as you run to him, kissing your head and spinning you around, telling you how proud he is.

“i’m glad you made it.” you gleam, almost forgetting to turn your mic off so no one else gets to hear. he wipes a little sweat off your head, almost a little envious at how good you can look after a 2 hour show.

“of course, idiot.” he smirks. “wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

- that night, he gives you 8 inches and 3 new song ideas ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

SHOUTO TODOROKI

- fun fact: shouto is voted most handsome pro-hero of the year, right after hawks ᢉ𐭩

- despite his massive popularity, he’s the most private on this list. he knows what its like to have to smile for the cameras, to keep things looking neat and pretty, all for an act. so as much as possible, he tries to keep the good in his life to himself. he’s never seen an ugly truth that couldn’t be bent into something that looks better.

- he worries he’s making it hard for you to love him. you’re always patient, saying you can take it, that you also want something very private. but god, do you make it hard for him. even when the rumours of your relationship swirl, he’s tempted to just come out and confirm it so he doesn’t have to feel the uncertainty.

- all of his worries wash away, however, when he hears lyrics about him. it makes his heart ache, even when it’s something simple, that you want him to miss you or want him to think of you when he holds someone else (not that he’d be holding anyone other than you). people can speculate who you’re writing about, but its little gift to him that he’s privy to it.

- he will not miss a single award show with you. because you two are so private, the fans go crazy or even small interactions between you two. theres grainy footage of you two talking and holding hands with everyone crashing out in the comment section (😭)

- his siblings loveeeeee your music. them, living more normal, less famous lives, have the privilege of seeing your concerts without being bothered or questioned. fuyumi streams your album’s religiously and drags natsuo and his girlfriend along as well. you tossed her a guitarl pick once and she hasn’t emotionally recovered from it, let alone the fact that her little brother is dating you ৻ꪆ

- he takes it as a blessing everyday that he gets to see your process. he specifically loves creating album covers with you. you asked him if, hypothetically, he wanted to be on the cover for the deluxe version and he blanked out. you have to remind him that he’s literally the entire package, that he fits perfectly, and that you can’t resist that face of his, and that you both arrive at the same time.

- like katsuki, he also enjoys attending your concerts. he happily embraces you, knowing that while the audience got you for an entire show, he gets to have you for as long as you’ll love him. he makes sure to hold you on his right side in case you’re overheating from the performance.

“here, let me grab these for you.” he says, helping you undo your performance outfits, unzipping the chunky glitters and fluorescent fabrics. he thinks that there isn’t a single colour that looks bad on you, but can’t imagine what its like to wear these for hours at a time.

“thanks, shouto.” you hum happily, already looking at the tweets.

[randomfan1]: guys i swear i saw shouto at [y/n]’s show tonight

IZUKU MIDORIYA

- unlike the other two on this list, he’s not famous. he’s spent a few years now teaching, and its a job he’s learned to love. its humble, and quiet, but he can’t help but feel like some part of it is missing. he started to entertain the idea that he’d end this life alone.

- he meets you at a party. you’re a friend of a friend, and he still can’t believe that he has a real, breathing famous singer in front of him. not only that, but you notice him in a room of other celebrities. he was bound to fall for you the moment your eyes made contact.

- much like shouto, he keeps it private. even if he did, he wouldn’t have very many people to tell. his friends were the reason he even met you. his mom adores you. who does that leave, his students? he’s humble, even when he’s dating the most gorgeous and talented person to ever breathe.

- he loves being in the studio with you. it started out with just little sessions, kissing while talking, watching you tune your guitar and play little notes on your piano. then he became the first person to hear your demos and rough drafts. now? he has song writing credits in your newest album ❤︎₊ ⊹

- his ideas give you so much more than just butterflies. he has this way of finishing your sentences, knowing and feeling the exact vision you had for a piece. every now and then, he’ll flick through your notebook and find verses that sound awfully familiar. he wonders if he’s the guy who’s “jacked and kind” and who “talks sweet when you’re doing bad things.” he won’t say anything at first, but he’ll nestle his head between your legs and give you more things to write about.

- he’s an empath. he knows how exhausting it is sometimes, having all your moves watched and studies and scrutinized. he sees you always acting, always trying to be beautiful, and it kills him that its such a natural part of fame. for that reason, he makes sure his apartment is a safe house for you, and that his bed is a secret oasis. he’d do anything for you. ❦.

- he attends when he has the time, standing in the crowd alongside your other fans. he always feels a rush to his cheeks when he hears you belting those lines, knowing their for him. its a secret he loves having, and one that he’d love to talk about when you’re ready. he always puts you first.

“stuck?” he asks, wrapping his arm around you, watching you as you tap your pen against the paper.

“yeah, i keep thinking of you instead of the song.” you groan, laying your head back on his bicep. he just laughs.

“i thought i inspired you?” he kisses your cheek. while normally nervous around others, you bring out the side of that’s comfortable teasing and playing with you.

“you do inspire me.” you smile. “but its not helping right now.”

he cups your face in his calloused, lips ghosting over yours. “maybe i need to give you better ideas, then.” he says, before kissing you deeply.

“yeah, maybe.”

the sudden thought of bakugou katsuki sending an audio to his s/o while at the gym, where he speaks IN BETWEEN GASPS AND GRUNTS AND EVEN GROWLS BECAUSE OF THE AMOUNT OF WEIGHT HE'S LIFTING WHILE ALSO TALKING ABOUT WHAT YOU WOULD LIKE FOR DINNER AND SUGGESTING MEALS OR PLEACES TO GO IF YOU WANT AND THEN HE SAYS, "Ugh... whatever you... mmh... want, baby, it's yours..." AND HE EXHALES FUCKING SEXILY AS THE SOUND OF THE WEIGHT DROPPING IS HEARD.

— I'M DYING HELP.

nothing will ever make me feel crazier than tongue kissing. sorry

Can't stop thinking about Katsuki having a history of failed relationships. It's never difficult for him to attract people. They fall for him easily—drawn to his looks, his unflinching honesty, his blunt approach to everything. "It's refreshing," they always say. "It's so rare to find someone who won't lie to you."

His hero ranking certainly doesn't hurt either. People are naturally attracted to power and success, and Katsuki has both in spades. They love telling their friends they're dating one of the top pro heroes, enjoying the status that comes with the association.

Initially, they appreciate his attentiveness—how he notices details about them, remembers their preferences without being told twice. They admire his passion; the way he gives everything to his hero work extends to his relationships too. Katsuki doesn't know how to be halfway committed. He puts his entire self into whatever he does.

That's always how it begins, but it never lasts.

All those traits his partners once praised become what they resent. His honesty? Now it's "too harsh," "too cutting." They ask him to tone it down, to not be so blunt all the time. "You don't have to be so honest about everything. Sometimes small lies are better."

His attention to detail becomes irritating, especially during arguments. "Why do you have to remember everything?" they complain. "You're being petty. Focusing on things that don't matter." They grow to resent how he remembers every word they've said.

His passion, once exhilarating, now "suffocates" them. "I need space," they say. "You're too intense." As if he knows how to be anything else.

"If you're not going to give it your all, what's the fucking point?" he asks. They never have a good answer for that.

The first few breakups, Katsuki fights back. He tries to compromise, catching himself before saying something particularly harsh, attempting to filter his thoughts. But it feels like a betrayal of himself, like he's putting on an act. Inevitably, in moments of stress or fatigue, the filter slips and his full personality comes roaring back. The disappointment in their eyes hurts him more than he'd ever admit.

"This is exactly who you fell for," he reminds them, voice rising with frustration. "You don't get to act surprised now."

After enough repetitions of this cycle, he stops fighting. When they break up with him, he simply nods, jaw tight. "Good riddance," he mutters, though something cracks inside him each time.

Sometimes he wonders if Deku and the others have it easier. Deku with his endless empathy, or Kirishima with his straightforward warmth. People don't seem to tire of them the way they tire of Katsuki. Maybe he's just fundamentally too difficult to love long-term. The thought pisses him off, but he can't dismiss the evidence: a string of relationships, all ending the same way.

So he gives up on relationships entirely. "They're a waste of time," he tells anyone who asks. But deep down, he longs to come home to someone.

And then he meets you.

You're different, though not in any dramatic, obvious way. You're just as straightforward as he is. You commit fully to everything that matters to you. You take his words at face value, never searching for hidden meanings that aren't there.

The first time he snaps at you in public—a sharp, caustic comment that would make others flinch—you just laugh and snap right back with equal force. No hurt feelings, no wounded looks. Just acceptance that this is part of the conversation.

He notices how you don't pull away when he gets worked up about something trivial. Instead, you match his energy. He finds himself waiting for the moment your expression changes, for the familiar look of exhaustion to creep in. But it never comes.

He’s sworn off relationships, but he feels himself falling. And it terrifies him so he fights against it.

Sometimes, when these thoughts overwhelm him, he'll pick a fight or pull away, testing the boundaries of your patience. Waiting for the inevitable moment when you realize he's too much work, too difficult, too Katsuki.

But you handle it without flinching. You don't try to change him or tell him he's too much. You accept that this is just how Katsuki is. Your acceptance only deepens his fear.

And it's because you're different that he can't bring himself to hope for a future with you.

He's dealt with losing people before. He's recovered from those breakups and moved on. But losing you? He's not sure he could survive that.

But so far, you're still here. And each day you stay makes the prospect of you leaving all the more unbearable.

₊˚⊹♡⭒˚.⋆ 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚠 ?

i try to be the chill girl but honestly i’m not knee deep in the passenger seat (and you’re eating me out) two weeks and your mom invites me (to her long beach house) is it casual now?

⤷ katsuki bakugou x reader

⤷ fem-leaning reader (“girl” used twice, no other pronouns), friends w benefits-ish to lovers, reader is bad at feelings, brief mention (1) of underage drinking, heavily implied reader and bakugou are sleeping together but nothing explicit, lyrics and title from chappell roan’s “casual,” this is long (~2k words)

for three months it’s been like this. three months of sneaking around and shared glances and private smiles and near-silent laughter at one in the morning. 

it started one night towards the end of winter, just before the beginnings of spring. 

you had just finished up a big practical exam and the class had come in first. you’d worked your asses off and it had been totally worth it. everyone felt like they were walking on air that night, and you’d all decided to get together for a late dinner in the dorms to celebrate. 

you remember it clearly. the valentines decorations were still up in the lounge. you’d ordered pizza to supplement sato’s delicious noodle arrangement and bakugou’s yakitori, and stayed up well past curfew talking and eating and laughing. it was one of the best nights of your life. 

you’d gone to the bathroom, but when you came back to the lounge everyone had already gone up to bed. 

“guess the party’s over,” you’d mumbled to yourself with a little laugh of disbelief. 

“oi!” had come a voice from the kitchen. “who’s out there?!”

“guess,” you’d called out teasingly, leaning against the doorframe. 

bakugou wore his trademark scowl, same as ever. he was standing over the sink, hands covered in suds amidst a pile of dishes. 

“hmph. the hell you doing up, dumbass? figured you’d gone to bed after you disappeared on us.”

“hm. three years and you think you’d come up with a better nickname,” you laughed. “i told denki i was going to the bathroom. something in those noodles did a number on me.”

he had scoffed, seemingly irritated by your overshare. you didn’t care. you were never one to withhold anything and he knew that. 

“whatever. everyone’s asleep already anyway.”

“what are you doing up, kacchan?”

he’d scowled at that, but said nothing. he had long since given up trying to dissuade you from using the nickname. he nodded to the pile of dishes in the sink before him. 

“damn extras left a mess. said we’d pick up in the morning but i can’t sleep with this fuckin’ mess.”

you had laughed at that. he fixed you with a withering glare. 

“what’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“what a mouth,” you snickered. “you never change, do you, kacchan?”

he’d scoffed, scrubbing agitatedly at a plate. “i change plenty.”

you just laughed again. you guessed he was right, because three years ago he never would’ve been caught dead up this late. 

“you gonna help me with this or what?” he demanded, gesturing to the mess of the kitchen. 

you’d shrugged, figuring it would’ve been cruel to leave him to face this alone. 

“i guess so. you wash, i dry?”

he replied with a soft grunt of affirmation. 

it was peaceful that night, standing shoulder to shoulder with bakugou as he handed off soaked dishes for you to wipe down. you took comfort in the warm brush of his hands against yours. 

and the fateful moment that led to all of this?

he’d fumbled a dish, the mug slipping from his soap-slicked grip. you had gone to catch it, reaching over at the exact same time he did. 

you remember the brief pain of your heads colliding and bakugou’s proceeding shout. 

you had grabbed his shoulders for support, and you remember being surprised by how warm he was. it’s not like you’d never touched him before, but the number of times you’d ever been this close to him was minuscule. 

he might’ve been mad, probably about to open his mouth to berate you about how he’d “had it!” and that you “should’ve left it” or something. but he stopped cold, eyes wide at just how close you were. barely an inch between your noses. you could smell the spices on him from when he’d been cooking earlier. 

you don’t know what led you to say it. maybe it was the late hour or the obscene amount of food you’d eaten or the wine cooler you’d allowed yourself to drink after mina had brought them out. 

“can i kiss you?”

you think bakugou might’ve been more surprised by that than if you’d socked him in the face. 

you don’t know why he did, but he had nodded. he thought about it for a second—just one, not too long—and then given the slightest incline of his head. and you did it. 

you kissed him. 

it wasn’t your first kiss. if it was his, you couldn’t tell. he was soft, responsive to your movements but still sure of himself when he kissed you back. 

he tasted vaguely of spices. 

you don’t know how long you stayed like that. you don’t know at what point his hands moved from the sink to your cheeks or when he’d backed you against the counter. 

you just know that when he’d asked if you wanted to go up to his room, you nodded with flushed cheeks and a breathless smile. 

and that’s how it’s been for three months. you’d never addressed it, never put a name to what you had. you’d never questioned it or taken it for granted. bakugou is the kind of person you can follow blindly into any situation and know you’re going to come out okay. and you’ve never been someone who needed a reason to be around people you like. 

tonight’s not much different. it’s quiet, a cool breeze in the air from the open window. the nights are getting warmer as spring sets in, so the breeze feels good on your skin. 

you lay back on bakugou’s bed, breathing in the smell of his ocean breeze laundry detergent and the faint scent of the almost-blooming cherry blossoms just outside.

he didn’t used to let you stay over. he’d walk you back to your dorm once everyone was asleep, grumble a goodnight and disappear back down the hall. but after a while, he stopped mentioning how late it was getting. he’d just toss over and fall asleep, his arm still resting across your body next to him. 

“what’re ya sighing for?” bakugou huffs, reaching over you to plug his phone into the charging outlet. 

“i’m not sighing,” you reply, frowning up at the ceiling. 

“and now you’re pouting.”

you huff back at him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “i am not pouting. i’m eighteen years old, i don’t pout.”

katsuki raises his eyebrows in challenge. “you want me to get you a mirror?”

you roll your eyes and toss a pillow at him. he catches it just the way you expect him to, right in front of his face. you strike quicker than he can move it, smacking the front with a palm. you laugh at his startled growl, falling back on the bed as he throws the pillow back your way. 

you smile innocently up at him, clutching the pillow to your chest and relish in the scowl he casts at you and the way his hair is tousled from the scuffle. 

“brat,” he scoffs, knocking his leg against yours. “c’mon, it’s late. i wanna sleep.”

he waits until you’ve crawled in beside him to turn out the lights. 

you stare out into the dark for a while, but sleep doesn’t come. 

“katsuki?” 

his responding groan in muffled into the pillow. you prop yourself up to turn and look at him. 

“can i ask you something?” 

you see his scarlet eyes open in the dark and glance up at you with a furrowed brow. 

he huffs as he rolls over to face you. “i guess.”

now you’re nervous. god, why did you have to bring it up?

“i don’t want to sound stupid or anything, but i…” you pause, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “what are we? i mean, like…to each other?”

it’s both a relief and an immense amount of anxiety finally getting the words out. “it’s been eating at me for a while now—and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—but i figured i’d die if i didn’t at least ask.”

katsuki’s looking right at you, but for once you can’t read his eyes or expression. the silence is stretching and your stomach turns with unease. you keep talking, and even though you know you’re rambling, your mouth is like a runaway train. 

“i mean, to my knowledge at least, you don’t sleep around, right? we don’t see other people. and you’re not…you’re not completely detached when we’re together—at least i hope you aren’t. you don’t act like it anyways. so it seems like it’s more than a physical thing?”

god, why can’t you stop talking? it’s more to yourself than katsuki at this point anyway. 

“and we’re friends. we’ve been friends for such a long time now. it’s not like i’m some random girl you picked up off the street.”

he scoffs quietly and you glance over at him. his expression is pinched, but otherwise unreadable. “tch. i wouldn’t do that.”

“exactly,” you agree, trying to keep your voice even as you fidget with your hands. your voice is quiet and you hang your head a little, unable to face his deep eyes. “i…know you care about me. so i guess that’s why i’m asking what this is to you.” you start rambling again before the silence gets too long. “are we just friends who mess around sometimes? is it that you’re not ready for a relationship…or maybe you do want a relationship but just not with me?”

“do you want a relationship?” he asks. 

“i…i don’t know. maybe, if that’s what you wanted.”

“what do you want?”

“i mean, we don’t have to put a label on anything if you don’t want to. unless you do want to, then i guess we could do that too.” the options are flooding your brain, mouth going off without filter. 

“what do you want?” katsuki asks again, red eyes boring into yours in the dark. 

you shrink back, feeling small under his unwavering gaze. “i…i don’t know.”

he scoffs. “liar.”

your heart sinks a little. 

“what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean,” he replies, and you can hear the frustration in his voice. “you’re not the ‘whatever you want’ girl. you never have been.”

you know he’s right, but that doesn’t make it less painful to hear. normally that kind of tenacity is what people strive for, what people admire. but the way katsuki says it…he makes it sound like a bad thing. like you’re selfish. 

“so tell me,” he insists, face mere inches from yours. “why don’t you care what we are?”

“because i care about you,” you whisper, almost against your will. “and i want you to be happy, so i’ll take you in whatever capacity i can get you.”

he looks almost surprised at that, then slightly exasperated like you’ve missed his entire point. he exhales sharply, sitting back against the headboard. 

“before i answer you, lemme ask you something myself first.”

“okay,” you breathe. 

“why the sudden need to know?”

“huh?”

“you said this shit’s been eating at you for a while now. how come? what’s got you feeling all contemplative all of a sudden?”

it takes a minute to gather your thoughts, much less the courage to speak. you hadn’t been expecting him to turn this on you. 

“well…we’re graduating in a few weeks, and i guess i just…i don’t want to never see you again. i don’t want this to end. and i…” you pause, taking a shaky breath, then shrug. “i don’t want to lose you, kacchan.”

he’s staring now in what you can only describe as disbelief. your stomach stirs uneasily as you sit in silence for a moment. 

“you don’t want to lose me,” he repeats, like its the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “that’s it?”

“yes, that’s it,” you reply, suddenly defensive. you cross your arms, feeling incredibly self-conscious now. 

“and you think i’m what, just gonna up and leave you? don’t you give a fuck about us?” he demands. 

“i didn’t know there was an ‘us’!” you cry. “i didn’t know it meant anything to you.”

“of course it fuckin’ meant something!” katsuki shoots back, on the verge of a shout. 

“i stayed with you the entire time you had the flu in second year. i let you come with me to the gym. we did our work studies together. i make you food when you’re stupid and don’t eat, i let you come in my room whenever you want and sleep in my fuckin’ bed when you have a bad dream.”

you sit there for a moment, absorbing it all. it’s true, all of it. 

“i don’t do that shit for just anyone,” he adds, grumbling. and he’s right. he doesn’t. “so don’t you for one minute think that you don’t mean anything to me. why else would i be spending all this damn time with you?”

“i don’t know,” you hum, crawling over to him. “maybe you did it cause all our other friends were getting together and you felt left out.”

“when have i ever done something just because some other fuckin’ extra did too?”

“never,” you giggle, leaning against him until you’ve fallen into his lap.

“exactly. so what does that tell you?”

“that…you’re very brave and independent?”

he groans loudly, rolling his eyes. “you’re fuckin’ impossible.”

“you love it,” you beam up at him. your stomach flutters with something warmer now as he reaches down and brings you up to meet his lips. it’s a deep kiss, leaving no room for anything but him and you and saying everything that you never said up until now. 

“yeah, so what if i do?” he murmurs when he pulls away, still close enough that his lips brush yours when he speaks. 

“tell me,” you say, smile and voice soft as you push his spiky bangs away from his face. his cheeks are warm under your hands. “tell me for real this time.”

his ruby eyes are deep and sincere when he says it. 

“i love you.”

it’s all you ever needed to hear.

nothing like the pressure of finals to get you locked in on a fic. i’ve been sitting on this for a while and i finally got inspired to finish it. i really enjoyed the reader/bakugou dynamic here. hope you like!

𐙚 ⋮ᴀᴄᴛ ɪ ꒱ ‧₊˚

⋮ ♯; ⤷ KATSUKI BAKUGO headcanons .ᐟ

⋆˚࿔ what would he be like as your boyfriend?

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

⌗ he won’t admit it, but he always keeps an eye on you. if he thinks someone is bothering you, his first instinct is to throw hands, but he reins it in (most of the time) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ this man is ride or die for you. the second he’s in a relationship, you’re his and he’s yours—no one else exists in his mind ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he’s not the biggest fan of PDA, but in private? he’s all over you. loves holding you in a way that makes you feel his warmth, whether it’s spooning you from behind or resting a hand on your waist absentmindedly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he’s a doer. if you’re feeling down, he’ll yell at you to take care of yourself, but when you’re genuinely sick and he can’t just fix it? he gets frustrated and sulky, pacing around the room while forcing you to drink water like it’s a life-or-death situation. he’ll even let you rest your head on his lap while pretending he totally doesn’t enjoy it ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ before dating, he never thought much about sleep. but after? if you’re not in bed with him, he tosses and turns all night. if he’s away on missions, he hates it because no matter how exhausted he is, sleep just doesn’t hit the same. if you ever find out, he will deny it to his grave ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he doesn’t go for the usual “words of affirmation” or “acts of service.” instead, his love language is teaching you things. whether it’s self-defense, cooking, or fixing something, if he’s taking the time to teach you his skills, it means he trusts you enough to know what he knows ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ you could be doing the most mundane thing—reading, scrolling on your phone, folding laundry—and he’ll just watch you without realizing it. if you catch him, he’ll grumble and look away, but he was totally zoning out admiring you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ you wouldn’t expect it, but one day, you’re struggling with a messy ponytail, and he just sighs and fixes it perfectly. turns out, he used to help his mom tie up her hair when he was a kid. he still acts like it’s no big deal, but if you ask him to do it again, he secretly loves it ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ his hands are constantly moving—tapping on the table, against his leg, drumming on random surfaces. but if he’s thinking about you specifically, his fingers will start mimicking the rhythm of your heartbeat (which he totally memorized without realizing) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he notices the tiny things. the way you always stretch before standing up, how you hum before you fall asleep, the specific way you take your coffee. if you ever forget something in your routine, he’ll absentmindedly remind you before realizing damn, I really memorized that, huh? ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ that dumb doodle you left on his notes? tucked in his wallet. the random trinket you gave him from a vending machine? sitting on his nightstand. he acts like he doesn’t care, but he never throws away anything that reminds him of you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ it doesn’t matter if you can lift a building, he is carrying the groceries, the luggage, and anything remotely heavy. you could be a pro hero, and he’d still be like, “shut up and let me do it.” ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ mitsuki loves you, but she also loves embarrassing her son. she’ll tease him about how whipped he is, telling you embarrassing childhood stories while bakugo fumes in the background. secretly, he’s glad she likes you, but he’ll never say it out loud ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ everyone knows bakugo laughs in that aggressive, cocky way. but when he’s with you? sometimes, he lets out a real, genuine, soft laugh that no one else gets to hear. if you ever mention it, he’ll turn bright red and tell you to shut up ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ who can fold laundry faster? who can chop vegetables better? who can get into bed first? he turns everything into a competition, and if you beat him? he’ll sulk for five minutes before demanding a rematch ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he won’t gush about you outright, but if you do something impressive? his friends will hear about it. “yeah, so what if they did that? they’re badass. of course they pulled it off.” he plays it cool, but everyone knows he’s beyond proud of you. if anyone even slightly doubts your abilities, he’ll shut them down instantly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

thinking about virgin!shoto…

virgin!shoto that whines when kissing you, grabbing your face with teary eyes when you’re on top of him, mumbling out that he needs more.

virgin!shoto that watches your every move when your hands go to unbutton his white dress shirt, discarding it onto the floor. his hands moving to your hips and slightly moving the bottom of your shirt up.

virgin!shoto that goans and makes a makeshift ponytail with his hands when you leave kisses along the underside of his cock. his thighs trembling and begs leaving his pretty lips.

virgin!shoto that stops breathing when you moan against his cock, the vibration ringing through him, making him throw his head back.

virgin!shoto who lets out a choked moan when you deepthroat his cock, panting and screwing his eyes shut as you move your head up and down on him, gagging and drool rolling down your chin.

virgin!shoto who has tears streaming down his face and cries leaving his lips as he cums down your throat. biting his lip as hard as he can as he tries to stay quiet. his hands covering his face as he gasps.

virgin!shoto who swears he could cum again just seeing your swollen lips covered in his semen, eyes teary, and lips twisting into a smile at his fucked out face.

Bakugo would say the most out of pocket things just to get a reaction out of you, followed by that shit eating grin and hollow ‘heh’ every damn time.

You’re out buying new shoes, trying on sneakers when he makes a comment about selling your feet pictures online if his hero rankings take a dip to bring in extra cash.

At his parent’s house for dinner, he takes you into his old bedroom to show you around for the first time. He starts snickering about how loud you are at his place and that he would have never been able to get away with sneaking you into his room.

While getting ready for a hero gala, he tells you to wear “that bra that makes your tits look like planets” so people are too distracted by you to notice his snide remarks, rewarding him with a good word in the press that week.

It’s all in good fun, Bakugo loves teasing you and appreciates that you take his jokes without a fuss. What he doesn’t expect is the first time you retaliate to one of his quips, leaving him wide eyed and shell shocked before he hunches over with laughter.

“Ha, ya finally got the guts to give my shit back’ta me. Game on, loser!”