I’m A Fan Of Panties Being Pulled To The Side.

"i don't comment on ao3 because i don't wanna be annoying or weird" skill issue + you greatly underestimate the power dynamic here, writing multi paragraph comments is like feeding a bunch of deeply insane and possibly starved ducks at the park and watch them go completely mad over having received a piece of bread

Birthday special

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

Head canons

๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯✦

★ During your birthday he’d would go shopping with you,hang out with you,etc

★ Bakugo would probably bake your cake and everything (probably has the ‘kiss the cook’ apron)

★ He make sure your not lifting a finger on your birthday

“It’s your special day idiot your not carrying shit..”

★ He’d make sure your day goes perfectly well and smoothly no doubt

★ While in the morning he’s bring you breakfast in bed and cuddle you from behind as you ate

“Tch…shut up I just…I haven’t talk to you in a while so…”

★ He’d call you out from hero work so you could relax for the rest of the day

★ He would make a candle lit dinner with your favorite food and everything

★ He watch the stars with you before falling asleep with you as you both cuddle

“Happy birthday…idiot…” Bakugo would say as he kisses your temple

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯✦

Thank you for reading :)

↳ ❝ TWITTER PORN LINKS | KATSUKI BAKUGO ! ❞

"you like humping my thigh that much? cute. you gonna cum just from this, yeah? grip my shoulders, there you go. use me however you need, pretty girl."

"shit, you’re so fucking hot while touchin' my dick. god—you feel how wet you get when you see me like this? wanna cum together like this, baby?"

"i can’t stop lookin’ at your tits, sweets. just lookin’ at them makes me wanna fuck you senseless. bet you love it when i nibble on them, huh?"

"goddamn—so fuckin’ sweet. my favorite fuckin' meal. could eat you out like this all fuckin’ day. love you, baby. love makin’ you feel like this."

"you think you can get off without me, huh? fuckin' brat, you didn’t even wait for me. you like it when i spank you, don’t you? fuckin' turns you on, huh? that’s what you get for jerking off without me."

"shit—so tight. so goddamn tight. you gonna squeeze me dry? so fuckin' greedy. you're doin’ so good, baby. so good for me. fuck, can’t believe you’re mine."

"fuckin’ hell, you just squirted all over my hand. tch, and now you’re shy? fuck that. ’m gonna make you do it again. gonna fuck you so good after."

“’m too fucking hard for this shit, just let me fuck you. please, baby? i need you so bad, it hurts. fuck this—just leave it on. i don't care if we make a mess."

"you just gonna let me eat you out like this, huh? makin' such a mess on my face, pretty. can’t handle it? your boyfriend's addicted, so shut up and take it."

"where’d all that attitude go, huh? you were actin’ all tough earlier. fuck, pretty—look at yourself. look how pretty you look, ridin' my dick. fuckin' made for me, aren't ya?"

"you like it when i'm rough, don't ya? little brat. bet you been thinkin’ about this all fuckin' day. shit—gonna fill you up. you want that? want me to fill you up, sweet girl?"

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ hiii im sorry for delaying this lmao, busy with school and shit 🤕 consider this as a late valentines day gift, and also another 2k special!! ohmygod!! i cant believe so many of you like what i write omgomg, lmk if any of the links arent working nymore!! and i hope you guys enjoy more of what i post💜

MEN AINT SHIT!!

Dad!Bakugou w/ his daughter

𖦹*ੈ‧ 𓇼 ₊˚𓆝 Where your daughter gets her hands on your phone and chaos ensues

A/n: Layout kinda got fucked up but this is exactly how it would go down kids make zero sense and jump topics so abruptly its crazy

Do not plagiarise/copy/post on other platforms. All work is my original works. || Masterlist

the pageant (snippets!) — bakugo k.

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

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

cw/tags: fluff, established relationship

“Me?” yn asked, blinking slowly.

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

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

And just like that, the gauntlet was thrown.

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

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

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

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

Bakugo turned to her. “What?”

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

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

Bakugo stiffened.

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

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

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

But the damage was done. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rude!” Kaminari yelped, clearly offended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yn lunged at her. “Hey, Jiro! No!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” Momo yelped as she caught them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Missed you,” he grumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stop scrolling through your damn phone and sleep.

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

The reply came instantly. Because you replied immediately.

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

Bullshit. You're looking at memes.

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

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

A royal cat, she corrected.

Go. To. Bed.

Can't. Too busy manifesting my victory.

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

Meanie, she sent, already dreading the early hour.

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

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

The bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Reappeared. Finally—

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

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

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

GO TO SLEEP.

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

Love you too.

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

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

Then the music began.

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

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

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

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

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

But yn didn’t flinch.

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

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

Bakugo blinked. Then, he saw it.

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

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

And they were eating it up.

Bakugo scoffed, grinning to himself.

He knew better though.

Underneath that calm exterior, yn was competitive as hell.

She just hid it better than most.

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

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

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

And she never backed down.

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

She just hated to lose.

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

The crowd probably saw an angel.

But all he saw was her.

Then, mid-verse, she looked up.

Right at him.

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

The mic hovered close to her lips.

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

But she didn’t sing it.

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

“Thank you.”

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

The crowd melted.

But Bakugo didn’t move. He couldn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his person. His partner.

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

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

But he knew one thing for sure:

He wasn’t letting her go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She paused.

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

The Bakusquad erupted.

“OHHHHHH!!!”

“SHE’S ARCHIVING THE SHAME!!!”

“SEND THAT TO THE CLASS CHAT!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The stars were out. Quiet, for once.

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

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

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

She joined him at the railing, shoulder brushing his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” he asked, voice low.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

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

Their noses brushed, lips just about to meet—

“Yo! There you guys are!”

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

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

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

“Kirishima.”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving!”

He disappeared back down the stairs, laughing.

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

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

“Milk Meltdown”

Bakugo x Fem!Reader + Daughter Chaos + Newborn Baby

Genre: Humor, Family, Fluff

Warning: Embarrassment levels are HIGH

---

You had just settled into the rocking chair, your newborn daughter latched onto your boob like it owed her money.

It was peaceful. Quiet. Almost too quiet.

Cue your four-year-old, stomping into the room like she owned the place, holding a suspiciously empty juice box.

“MOMMY!” she gasped. “IS SHE EATING YOU?!”

You blinked. “What?”

She pointed, eyes wide in betrayal. “THE BABY! SHE’S EATING YOUR BOOB!”

Bakugo, walking past with a burp cloth, froze in place like a dead NPC.

“She’s not eating me, honey,” you tried to say calmly, even though your soul had left your body from secondhand embarrassment. “It’s called breastfeeding.”

Your daughter blinked. “Like...with milk?!”

You nodded. “Yes. Mommies make milk for babies. It’s how they eat before they can have real food.”

She stared. Then stared harder.

“So you're a cow now?”

Bakugo wheezed from behind the couch.

You glared at him. “Do not laugh. I swear to God.”

He coughed into his fist. “Nope. Not laughing. Totally serious.”

Your daughter looked suspicious. “So when I was a baby, I drank from your boobs too?”

You nodded.

She screamed like she was in a horror movie.

“WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THIS?! I THOUGHT I JUST ATE APPLESAUCE!”

Bakugo was crying now. Fully crying.

“I’m never drinking milk again,” your daughter declared. “Ever. Never ever.”

“Good,” Bakugo said. “More for the baby.”

She turned to him, dramatic as ever. “Daddy, are your boobs full of milk too?”

You both stared.

Bakugo went redder than his hero costume. “No. No, they are not. And never will be.”

“But you got big ones,” she said, poking his chest.

You immediately whispered, “Rip, bro.”

Bakugo looked like he needed a support group.

---

Later that night…

Bakugo was laying face-down on the couch. “She called me a milk tank.”

“She’s just confused,” you said, cradling your newborn.

“She moo’d at me.”

“She’s four.”

He sat up. “I’m buying a book. No. A chart. A PowerPoint. I’m explaining everything before she thinks I lay eggs next.”

You snorted. “Go ahead. She still thinks babies come out of bellybuttons.”

He froze. “...I need a beer.”

won't you spare me another year ?

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

an. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BOYFRIEND!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

"so my birthday's a competition now ?"

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

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

"you love me." you counter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i plead the fifth."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what ?"

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

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

"m'just..thinkin'."

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

"about...this really annoying girl."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

flicking katsuki’s forehead when he’s being rude

when you and katsuki decided to learn from the same pro-hero for your repeated work-study, you never would’ve guessed that you would go on patrols just the two of you. no sidekick, no actual pro-hero, just you and the blonde.

the two of you came across a villain and were legally allowed to fight him because of your licenses. after you defeated him with ease, katsuki complained about how it wasn’t a challenge at all, you came across three children.

they all looked related, most likely siblings, and they ran up to you so excitedly. katsuki backed away with a gasp as they jumped and yelled.

a short girl with brown hair, about shoulder length, exclaimed, “the two of you were great out there—“

the two other children agreed, but katsuki yelled, “hey, beat it, kids! you could’ve gotten incredibly hurt just by watching us from afar!” he pointed at a boy with a bright red hat, “you! i saw your neon hat from a short distance! you were way too close for—“

you rolled your eyes and brought your hand up, flicking his forehead. he paused his yelling and slowly turned to you before huffing and looking away. he crossed his arms, and you rubbed his back in a teasing manner as you talked to the children.

a sheepish smile appeared on your face, and you apologized to the children, “sorry about him, he gets a little rude sometimes and doesn’t think about his words. he was just worried for you, that’s all.” you paused, “you forgive him, don’t you?”

one of the children whispered to another, giggling and putting their hand over their mouth to stifle their laughter. they kept glancing at you and katsuki, and the other child wanted in on the secret.

you teased, “aw, come on, what are you guys talking about?”

the kids looked at each other with smiles on their faces before one stated, “he looks at you like how my daddy looks at my mommy!”

you and katsuki’s eyes both widened, your cheeks tinted red as the tips of his ears were also tinted red. he gasped and stared at the children in shock, surprised they would out him like that.

a small hum left your lips, and you pulled the blonde closer, as he was nearly stiff, but you said goodbye to the children, claiming you needed to leave and go back to your mentor’s agency. once they said goodbye, you dragged katsuki back to the agency in silence.

you interrupted the loudness in his head when you asked, “do you think we can get married after we graduate or should we focus on our hero work?”

gosh, you never failed to make his mind blank. he replied with another question, “can’t we do both?”

a giggle escaped your mouth, “i guess we can!”

he argued, “there’s one thing you need to know though. there’s no way in hell i’m having kids.”

you stared at him for a second, seeing the slight turn of his lips, and shook your head, “you’re such a liar, katsuki!”

a chuckle escaped his mouth, knowing you were right.

yuh

All Mine｡°✩ Bakugou Katsuki

Masterlist ୨ৎ

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

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

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

W/C : 3k

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

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

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

Match. Instantly.

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

It definitely wasn’t.

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

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

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

So this message? Felt different.

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

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

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

[10:40 PM] You : idk. 

[10:40 PM] You : why

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

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

[10:42 PM] B : or my flatmate is 

[10:42 PM] B : u should come

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

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

You don’t reply.

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you step inside.

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

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

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

It’s Bakugou’s birthday.

And he invited you to his birthday party?

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

Maybe he invited someone else.

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

You swallow it down, hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know how I like it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath catches.

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

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

You blink. “I make you nervous?”

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

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

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

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

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

And then his mouth is on yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🧨 ★ Katsuki...

Imagining virgin Katsuki who can't stop thinking about you.

It's always you, you, you.

Watching porn is boring to him and he just wants to slide his cute pre-cum stained cock across your pussy :(( poor boys pent, legs jittering under his desk as he desperately scrolls through a porn site on his laptop, trying to find someone that looks or acts like you.

And when he finally does? His hand drags down, up, down, slowly but just good enough. It's not you, but he imagines his hand as your pretty cunt, ringing his fingers on his dick desperately — imagining his pre as your frothy liquids.

And the next day when he sees you? Katsuki turns away and scoffs, and you never know why he's always so grumpy at you sometimes. and when he gets home, it's the same cycle again