The Accuracy Omg 😭

happy birthday, katsuki bakugo.

a/n ll birthday boy bakugo x g/n reader. fluff and not proofread!

“dear katsuki,” the ink of your pen pooled and smudged. whatever. this was the millionth try of the day anyway. you busied yourself, trying to write a happy birthday letter to the katsuki bakugo. pro hero dynamite. no. 15 hero. oh, did i mention he’s your lover?

lover boy! katsuki bakugo who is absolutely whipped for you, and you can’t tell me otherwise. it wasn’t about the grand gestures, but the small acts of love. cliche and overused? yes, but it’s true! he can’t help but poke and prod at you. it’s all light-hearted fun. but when he definitely knows when he’s going too far. you two are inseparable, quite literally soulmates. and of course, today is his birthday. the media flooded his time, but he knew he had to devote it to the one he loves the most. you, his reason to keep going.

lover boy! katsuki bakugo thinking of his last year in ua when you mustered the courage to confess to him. on his birthday of all days! “what?” he’d say.

“i like you, i really do! and uhm, happy birthday!” you blushed furiously, giving him a handmade charm bracelet with a poorly sculpted, disfigured version of him in his hero costume. you also created a poorly made sculpture of yourself to match. katsuki thought about how you looked so beautiful and cute, even as a clay figure. he would be lying through his teeth if he didn’t admit your beet-red face made his heart skip a beat. actually, that would be an understatement. even now, years later, with your long-term relationship, he’s been so accustomed to it. but he knows he has to be more than the “all bark no bite” person people make of him. of course, he’s aware he doesn’t have to prove anything to you, knowing you love him dearly. but. he wants to be the best person he can be. how foolish. you were supposed to be the one giving him a gift, but here he was, trying to something for you on his birthday. damnit, the things he would do for you.

lover boy! katsuki bakugo putting on his hero gear every morning, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear as he kisses you lovingly. to you, it was something he did every morning. to katsuki, it meant life and death. he would walk out the door, out of your loving touch that made him jolt. with no chance of returning home. no chance of life. no chance of seeing his mom and dad again. no chance of seeing you. so everytime he would see your sparkling eyes and pouting lips, he knew he couldn’t resist you, not even for a moment. god, how pathetic. you didn’t know, but he often cried thinking of your relationship. his thoughts would consume him. if he were to die, he would leave you all alone. and he knew it was selfish, but the thought of you being happy with someone else didn’t make him happy. it should’ve, knowing you would die peacefully. but the thought of you with someone else made his heart bitter. not the possessive-jealous type of bitter, but the bitterness that would eat at him daily. and of course, it’s not like he doesn’t voice his opinions. he completely trusts you. he just knows the risks of being a hero and what that meant for your relationship. 

lover boy! katsuki bakugo reluctantly at a “special” event held just for him. he reluctantly forced himself to go, knowing it was best for his career. but no matter the circumstances, he thought of you. his loving partner, his soulmate. he had to make sure you knew how much he loved you. of all times, he thought of you in great detail. the way the setting sun would hit the gentle silhouette of your face, illuminating it perfectly during your time spent together in the living room. your home. the home you two shared. the house you two bought together, knowing you would raise your family in it (if you want to have children, of course.) 

lover boy! katsuki bakugo returning home to find crumpled paper invading the wooden floor. he would’ve fallen flat if you didn’t catch him in time, his weight leaning into you as he stabilized himself, gripping your shoulders. he embraced you carefully. “woah birthday boy, you seem a lil desperate for attention. is everything alright?” you say. “no. jus’ missin’ you. that’s all.” he dug himself into the crook of your neck, his spiky blonde hair felt relaxed under your touch. “so, wassup with all of this?” katsuki asked, his embrace only tightening as he gestured to the paper. “oh, well, i tried writing you a heartfelt letter,” at this the blonde scoffed. “a damn letter? y’know i alreay know how much you love me.” at this you giggled and playfully hit him. “i just wanted to make sure you knew!” katsuki frowned. “then i have something to show you,”  your confused gaze followed his, tracing where he was looking. he reached for something in his pocket. a ring. “don’t need a present. i already have mine,” katsuki bakugo said, slipping a beautifully crafted ring onto your finger, kissing it delicately. “stay with me will you? and we’ll have much more to celebrate than this.” 

like a dog | s.hinata

-> pairing: hinata shoyo x gn!reader | sfw | cw: lovesick shoyo | wc: 1080 | genre: fluff | mlist

-> synopsis: shoyo always thinks about you. 

SHOYO’s not ashamed to admit that he’s a little obsessed with you.

He thinks about you all the time. At work, at the gym, in the shower. Your face is so etched into his memory that you appear in perfect clarity, slipping into his mind during the most mundane of moments. He’s always been an appreciative individual, but loving you has increased his gratefulness by tenfold. Thoughts of you make the ordinary feel sacred. 

But as much as he loves to think of you, he appreciates being with you far more. 

He’s just gotten home from a long day of training, and while his muscles ached, it’s his heart that feels the real strain. As much as he loves his job, hours spent away from you are absolute torture. For every second he’s not with you, he finds himself craving your presence more than anything in the world. 

It’s on nights like this one, when his body is sore and mind’s sick from longing, that there’s only one cure for his ailment– you. 

When he tip-toes into the bedroom, his chest lurches with excitement when he sees your figure laying in your shared bed. You’re already tucked under the quilted covers, but he can tell your mind is far from sleep. Your tired eyes are illuminated by the faint glow of a computer screen, and he watches you sigh deeply as your lithe fingers idly type away.

You work too hard. 

He frowns. It’s a bit silly to think about himself chastising you for overdoing it. Shoyo’s always been a proponent of the “you can never work too hard” mindset. He’s a firm believer that there are no shortcuts in life. If you want to succeed, you must pursue your ambition in earnest and push yourself past your limits. 

He’s preached this mindset time and time again. During conversations with friends, interviews with the press, and with his teammates. 

But in spite of it all, he finds himself wishing you’d rest. Even if it was just for a little while. 

Along with subscribing to the idea that there is merit in working hard, he also believes that one should lead by example. So, with a quiet resolve, he decides to display relaxation to you.

If his own selfish desires also happened to be served in the process, then it was just a happy coincidence. 

A smile tugs at his lips as he crawls on the mattress to lay with you. Even without touching you, the radiant warmth of your body embraces his skin and instantly relaxes him. 

When Shoyo was younger, he used to think he’d never be tied down. He was always flighty, always restless, always chasing the next big thing. 

But then he met you. 

You made settling down something worth doing. You taught him– among other things– the beauty of slowing down.

You are his home. 

He inches closer, longing for your affection. You hum in acknowledgement, eyes fixated on the screen, lost in whatever it was you were working on. His heart swells at the way you bite your lip in concentration.

He loves how hard you work, even when you don’t have to.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t fight to steal some of your time for himself. 

“I’m lonely.” Shoyo drawls, pressing his cheek against your blanket-clad thigh and looking up at you in adoration. Sighing dramatically, he sprawls further across you, chasing the high of your attention like a dog begging for a treat. “Come hang out with me before I die of boredom.” 

You laugh softly, and his ears perk up at the sound. 

Hesitantly, you discard yourself of your laptop and spread your arms. Nudging your head, your voice is laced with a fond amusement. 

“C’mere.” 

He obeys your call in an instant and collapses into your embrace. It’s not long before he’s peppering your face with kisses. One kiss to the forehead, another to the eyelids, and one on the lips for good measure. They’re fervent, each filled with more energy than the last in an effort to convey just how much he loves you. 

He’s been waiting for this all day. 

“You missed me that much?” You tease through soft gasps. 

Grinning, he nods. Shoyo knows you. He’s come to recognize that beneath all the layers of sardonic sarcasm, there’s a faint fondness you reserve only for him.

“Even when I’m with you, I’m thinking about how much I’ll miss you when you leave.” He confesses, inhaling your natural scent as he curls into you. 

As sappy as it is, it’s the truth, and Shoyo is always unapologetically himself. 

You tilt your head, amused, “So why don’t you just stay with me all the time?” 

“Really?” His breath catches, and the excitable child in him rears its head. Gripping you tighter, he looks up at you with something hopeful in his chest.

When you nod, he unravels, and his smile widens. It’s bright and boyish and full of love. 

 “Okay.” He beams. “Lets. Let’s be together– always.” 

It’s a foolish declaration. Shoyo is old enough to know that by now. But when you comb your fingers through his hair in the way that you currently are, it makes him want to believe in the impossible. 

“You’re such a dork.” You chuckle.

He grins at the playful jab. He doesn’t mind when you tease him. He loves everything you do. You fill him with such a unique fondness that sometimes, he wishes he could just carve his heart out and give it to you. Maybe then you’d see how stained it’s become with your essence. 

Shoyo doesn’t think you’ll ever be able to fully comprehend how much he loves you, or how much these little moments mean to him, but that’s okay.

For now, he’s fine with just showing you.  

Settling down, he closes his eyes and lets his heart slow, basking in the feeling of your gentle hands tracing him. In your reverent touch, his once weary body is long forgotten. You make him feel warm all over, and he swears that you have the ability to transport him into a metaphysical space that transcends the limits of flesh and bone. 

In the quiet still of the night, with his heart full of love and your hands full of him, Shoyo affirms that he truly does love to think about you.

But nothing compares to the feeling of being here, in your arms.

–a/n: um…hey…haha…im not self inserting…you are…

shoyo tag for @cherrysurf

࿐ ALL I WANT !

𝜗𝜚 bakugou katsuki | smut, mdni.

cw: bakugou possesses the person he truly loves when he fucks them. you.

between the warmth spreading into the room and the quickening breaths, the fire in his eyes becomes more apparent. you are no longer aware of anything. all you think about is that he wants you more. to be felt more… to fall… to be exhausted.

as bakugou tears you apart, he shows you with every move he makes just how much he wants to possess you. he wraps one of his hands tightly around your waist, pulling you closer. the sheets are twisting, every inch of your body is filled with him, but it still doesn’t seem like it’s enough. “don’t move,” he says, his voice hard, but the smile on his lips is compelling you. “stay still… or i’ll lose my damn mind.”

all his muscles are tense, his body is struggling to control itself. no matter how strong he is, there’s something in his eyes, a breaking point. slowly but surely, he’s holding you in such a way that your hairs stand on end.

his lips are moving down your neck, your jawline. he’s kissing and biting everywhere. then everything seems to stop for a moment, you’re breathing in silence. he’s having a hard time taking his eyes off of you. he slows down a little, but even that slowness drives you crazy. no he wants you whole and as you begin to feel him, he pulls you completely to him.

“say it,” he says again, looking into your eyes, but this time not harshly, there is more longing inside. “tell me you need me.”

ans you want it so much, you don’t hesitate. “i need you… now.”

in less than a second, his body is even closer to yours. hi arms wrap around you, and you become one with a warmth that deepens with each movement. each kiss, each touch becomes more ruthless, more passionate. strokes so impressive that all you can think about is him touching you.

as bakugou’s body wraps around you, the passion in his eyes deepens. you realize it at that moment, you want to belong to him, surrender to him completely, feel him in every corner of your body. you are so close, it is as if there is no distance between you. there is a bond that deepens with every breath. the only thing you feel is his heavy breathing and the burning gaze of his eyes.

he grabs you and quickly closes himself on you, first finding your lips in a fragile kiss. but this kiss changes quickly, at that moment, there is only an explosion between you. as every inch of your body fills with his warmth, his hands feel like they are hurting your body, but you endure it. beacuse he should belong to you. he should touch you, he should have you.

slowly but surely, he grabs you from behind and grips your waist even tighter, your skin rubbing together as he moves, the fire inside you growing even more. your eyes are closed, your lips are trembling. the harder he is, the more slowly you surrender to him.

“where do i stop?” katsuki says, his voice thick and slightly tense. “how much more can you take?”

he moves a little closer to you. his lips roam your neck, memorizing every corner of your body with each kiss. “there’s nothing you think i can’t take,” you whisper, and despite his voice being so harsh, the confidence in your words drives him even crazier. his gaze deepens into your eyes.

everything speeds up in that moment. your skin slaps against each other, your body matching his every move, you’re just feeling each other.

from that moment on, time stops. your heart beats faster, your body responds, your feelings deepen. the harder he is, the closer you are to him. the more possessive he is, the more you surrender to him. there is a burning passion in both of your bodies. and at that moment, all you can think of is, to belong to him completely.

© itoshhi 2025 {do not copy, translate, steal, modify without permission.}

calvins or nothing?

[nsfw-ish] ; bakugou katsuki x reader — domestic fluff, slight horniness, bakugou katsuki being a cute little bean (but also a sexy phenomenon), slight humor <3

♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖📸.𖥔 ݁ ˖♡

notes: this is inspired by the bad bunny x calvin klein ad that came out a few weeks ago. i’m ovulating and had this in my drafts. enjoy 😃

Your grumpy Pro Hero boyfriend—the one who hates cameras, hates media circuits, hates anything remotely resembling a brand deal—somehow got talked into doing an ad. That, in itself, is already enough of a shocker. The man rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Instagram. His idea of PR is grunting his way through one-word answers at press conferences.

So, yeah. When Katsuki says he’s doing a shoot, you're caught off guard.

The announcement isn’t even some grand confession—it’s a casual mumble, like he’s commenting on the weather. He says it while washing the dishes, fingers soapy, sleeves of his tee pushed up to his elbows, the evening news humming in the background. You're sitting on the counter, half-listening to the TV, half-watching the muscles in his back flex through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Gonna do a shoot in a couple days,” he mutters like it’s nothing. Like the sky’s blue. Like he’s not about to detonate your entire sense of reality.

You pause mid-sip of your water. “A shoot?” you echo, blinking at him.

He doesn’t even look up. “Yeah.”

You slide off the counter and walk toward him, disbelief coloring your voice. “Wait, seriously? You? Doing a shoot? Like… willingly?”

He finally cuts you a glance, eyes narrowing. “What the fuck would I joke for?”

“I don’t know! Because you hate this stuff?” You raise a brow. “Last week you growled at a guy just for taking a picture of you at the market.”

He scoffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “Agent wouldn’t shut up about it. Said it’s a good deal. Said it’d make my numbers spike.” He grinds his teeth. “S’bullshit.”

You grin, stepping even closer, your hands brushing against the hem of his shirt. “So what is it, huh? Sportswear? A cologne campaign? Let me guess, something with black-and-white aesthetics, all ‘I’m brooding and mysterious and I could kill you but also model for Givenchy.’”

His glare sharpens. “I ain't tellin’ you,” he mutters, and then smears a soapy hand across your face.

You yelp, eyes widening in shock before laughing, pushing him back with a dish towel, and just like that, the kitchen descends into a sudsy, chaotic mess—water splashing, laughter echoing, and your annoyed, grumbly boyfriend cracking the faintest smile as you attack him with bubbles.

You forget about it after that.

He goes to the shoot a few days later, grumbles about how stupid it was, comes home smelling faintly of sweat and photo studio, and promptly takes a nap on the couch with his face buried in your thigh.

End of story—or so you think.

Until the ad airs.

And the entire world explodes.

You’re not even the first person to see it. You wake up to six missed calls from Kaminari, seventeen texts in a group chat with Amanai and Hanari, and three DMs from stylists you’ve only ever worked with once, all saying something along the lines of:

IS THAT BAKUGOU???
Please tell me that’s YOUR man.
why didn’t you warn me???

You groggily pull up the video link with one eye open, barely processing the thumbnail—just muted greys and harsh lighting—and then hit play.

And then the world stops.

The screen fades in, and the first thing you see is concrete—cold and industrial, metal beams and stark shadows. The lighting is sharp and stylized, the kind of aesthetic that screams high-end minimalism, and then—

There he is.

Katsuki.

In nothing but tight black briefs, leaning against a concrete wall, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his thigh. His scars catch the light. His tan skin looks like it's been kissed by some god. His abs—hard and defined, with that perfect cut down his sides—flex slightly as he breathes. There’s sweat glistening faintly on his collarbone.

And his expression?

That look. The one he gives when he’s about to fight someone and knows he’s already won. That heavy-lidded, lazy gaze that screams dominance and confidence. His jaw is tight. His mouth is parted just slightly, teeth catching on the fabric of his own tank top as he lifts it with one hand, revealing the full line of his torso—slow and unbothered, like this means nothing to him.

You gasp. You physically clutch your phone like it might explode in your hands.

Is this a fucking fever dream?

The ad keeps going. Transitions shift—now he’s outside, in some open-air gym setup, hanging from a pull-up bar in white briefs, his body tense and glistening, thighs flexing as he hooks his legs around the metal, inverted and still steady. The camera pans slowly, sinfully, down the line of his waist, his back muscles moving with effortless control.

You are floored.

And then—then—he’s sprawled in a plush lounge chair, still in briefs, arms behind his head, legs spread in that arrogant, casual way that only he could pull off. He’s completely relaxed, like he doesn’t know the entire planet is watching this ad and forgetting how to breathe.

You drop your phone on the bed and bury your face in your hands.

“What the fuck,” you groan into your palms. Your heart is pounding. Your thighs press together on instinct.

Katsuki, your grumpy, camera-hating, blunt-as-hell boyfriend… just dropped the hottest underwear ad of the year. And you had no idea what he was shooting until now.

You scramble to your feet, pacing your bedroom, mouth still open, heart pounding in your chest like war drums.

Your phone still lies face down on the bed, but you’re pacing like the floor might cave in. Your heart is slamming against your ribs, your body thrumming with something between disbelief and desperate, carnal desire. There’s a burn low in your stomach. A buzzing heat behind your eyes.

Because the ad isn’t done. It gets worse—so much worse.

The music shifts, something darker now, heavier—bass rolling like thunder. And then the screen cuts to him again. Katsuki. In jeans this time.

Low-rise. Washed-out. Loose around the thighs but slung criminally low on his hips.

And those goddamn white briefs are peeking out above the waistband like it was staged in a dream. His hand glides lazily over his stomach, fingers tracing the defined V of his hips, brushing right past the thick trail of hair under his navel. He stops there—lingers there—just barely grazing the hem of the briefs before his thumb tucks in, teasing the edge. His gaze flicks to the camera.

And he smirks.

Not his usual cocky grin, no. This one’s lazy. Lopsided. Something slow and dangerous that makes your knees buckle. Like he knows what he’s doing. Like he planned this moment for you and you alone.

You gasp. You clutch your chest. "Oh my God."

And then—as if that wasn’t enough—the music picks up and the scenes start layering: cuts of him against the concrete, muscles flexing under the strain of his pose; transitions to the gym, his thighs clenching, his expression loose with exertion; cuts to that plush chair, where he’s lounging like sin incarnate, and finally, back to the jeans, with his hand still teasing that waistband.

It’s not an ad anymore. It’s a weapon. A visual threat. A public sex dream.

You stand there, completely dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth parted, blinking like you’ve been smacked upside the head with a wet towel.

And the comments?

Oh. The comments.

@takxmi291_: raw. next question.
@abersiw.3: Good lord what a great day to be alive.
@BIGPAPA.EJI: FLASH US ‼️‼️‼️
@numbber1.lemilionnn: giggling at 3am
@angelzkiss: GOOD GOD IM GIDJDJFNNFHDNDNDJDNCN🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦
@hyurhio008: YEP IM GETTING HIM PREGNANT
@Cello_Zumazz: damn now my screen's all sticky :/
@bpxrndeku: I FEEL LIKE A MAN IN THE 1800S SEEING AN ANKLE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
@lennysqqie: don’t be scared. take em off.
@dynazaddy98: i wanna GAGGGG on that huge COCK—
@stareandfanfic: look at em TITS AWOOGAAAA

You can’t even think. You’re vibrating. Your brain is gone. You’re standing there, still in pajamas, while your very private, very grouchy, very hot boyfriend just broke the Internet in his underwear.

You can’t let this slide.

So you bide your time. You wait until he’s home from patrol—freshly showered, hair damp and messy, wearing his black hoodie and sweatpants that clings to him a little too well. He’s sitting at the kitchen table now, chopsticks in one hand, steam rising from the shabu shabu you made. His brow is furrowed as he eats, and he's grumbling about how some new sidekick forgot to file a report properly.

You sit across from him with your phone in hand, not saying anything.

And then, casually, you clear your throat and say in a bright voice:

“Explosively warm, and snug. Dynamight wears the new Iconic Cotton Stretch. Now in stores.”

Katsuki freezes mid-bite.

His chopsticks pause, a slice of beef and mushroom still dangling, and you see it happen—the moment it registers. His shoulders stiffen. His jaw tightens. And then slowly, as if the food can save him, he stuffs it into his mouth.

You try not to laugh. You fail.

“What the hell, Katsuki?” you grin, voice breathless with amusement. “Why didn’t you tell me?! That ad launched three hours ago and I’ve seen your dick print more times than I’ve seen my own reflection today.”

He grunts. Doesn’t look at you.

“Honey, you looked insanely good. Like… I’m not even sure it was legal.” You lean forward over the table, voice dropping slightly. “You were so hot. And that grin?” You tap your phone. “That was cute, baby.”

His ears go bright red. A slow, creeping crimson that crawls up his neck to his cheeks.

He finally glances at you, scowling faintly. “S’just a stupid ad. Ain’t that important.”

“Oh, it’s important to me,” you murmur with a knowing smirk.

He huffs and looks away again, stuffing another bite in his mouth. But his jaw’s twitching. He’s so clearly flustered, you can barely take it. A tiny, pleased smile tugs at his lips even though he’s fighting it with everything he has.

And you realize—this is why he didn’t tell you. Because deep down, Katsuki knew. He knew how hot he looked, how big the reaction would be, how much people would thirst over it.

But more than anything, he knew you would look at him like this—like he hung the goddamn moon. And he wouldn’t know what to do with that.

“Sh’ddup,” he mutters under his breath, cheeks now fully flushed.

You grin like a wolf, biting your lip as you lean over the table, eyes glinting.

“No. I’m not gonna shut up. In fact, I’m gonna print out a poster. Hang it in the hallway. Right across from the bathroom.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls—but it’s soft. There’s no heat behind it. Just embarrassment and affection and that little smirk he only wears when he’s happy in spite of himself.

And you?

You’re head over heels in love with this absolute menace of a man. Horny and obsessed and ready to make him flustered for the rest of the night.

Later, the apartment is warm, and quiet, the soft hum of the city alive behind the windows—but in here, it’s just you and him.

The scent of the shabu shabu still lingers faintly in the air, and the clinking of dishes is rhythmic, almost soothing. Katsuki stands at the sink, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, forearms slick and glistening. His hands are buried in a sink full of suds, scrubbing out the plates he insisted on washing since you cooked.

You’re perched on the counter next to him, legs swinging slightly, phone in hand, face lit up with mischief and fondness. The grin on your face is damn near criminal. You can’t help it—you’ve been giggling all night. Ever since the ad dropped, you’ve been glued to the internet, reading every unhinged, thirsty, downright feral comment about your boyfriend. And oh, they are so good.

Katsuki grumbles under his breath every time you so much as snort at your screen, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. Not really. Because he secretly loves the sound of your laugh—especially when it’s because of him, even if it makes him wanna throw himself into the damn sink.

You scroll through your phone, eyes twinkling, then grin wider. “Should I read you the comments next?”

He groans. “No.”

But you’re already doing it. “@yoqnoak24 says: i’m wet, ready, and stretched out to g—”

Before you can finish, a wet, soapy hand slaps gently but firmly against your face.

“Katsuki!” you squeal, laughing in full as the bubbles smear across your cheek and jaw, eyes crinkling with delight.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he growls through a grin of his own, already tugging you off the counter with one hand on your waist.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders instinctively as he leans in, pressing a messy, grinning kiss against your lips. It’s hot, breathless, teeth clicking together for a second before he pulls back just enough to murmur against your mouth, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

You’re smiling so wide you can barely kiss him back properly, giggling like a teenager. “Probably fuck me stupid, since you’ve already got half the world begging for it.”

“Jesus fuck,” he groans, burying his face in your neck. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the way his ears are burning where they brush your jaw. But he’s smiling. You can feel that too. It’s hidden, buried in the press of his mouth against your collarbone, but it’s there. That secret softness only you get.

“You’re the worst,” he mumbles.

“No,” you say, tugging gently at his hair as you press a kiss behind his ear. “I’m the best. I’m your number one fan.”

“Damn right you are.”

You laugh again, and he chuckles too—quiet, low, warm in your chest.

This. This is your life with him. This ridiculous, heart-melting mix of domesticity and chaos. You and him in your kitchen, covered in soap and laughter, still buzzing with the aftershocks of an ad he didn’t even want to do. You and him trading kisses like secrets, teasing and tugging, wrapped around each other like you’ve always belonged this way.

God, you love this man. More than anything.

And the best part?

He loves you back just as hard.

chicken scratches ☆

synopsis : katsuki tries to surprise you...but he's taking too damn long !!

an. merry christmas(if you celebrate) n happy holidays yall !! i love my boyfriend as usual,,btw have yall seen that new hori art ??? dreamy sigh my man so stupid..

cw. itty bitty manga spoilers, but otherwise nun !!

when katsuki manages to hold a pencil again and write with his right hand, it looks absolutely horrendous.

switching from writing with their left hand then back to the right one would've been disorienting for most, and it probably was for him, but he didn't show it much aside from the occasional grumble and scoff at his trembling grip. nothing ever holds him back after all.

you sigh "can i—"

"no. don't look yet." katsuki has his back turned to you, sending you a sharp glare. hunched over his little piece of paper like how he'd hide his page from kaminari's peeking eyes during an exam, always so dramatic. he turns around with a huff and you snort with a roll of your eyes.

you had come over to his room after he’d told you to, mumbling out a quick “come over.” over the phone and hanging up before you could say a word.

and so here you were. waiting.

“katsukiiiiiiii—”

“shut up,” your boyfriend grunts, his scribbling sounds harsher, in a bit more of a rush. “so damn impatient..”

“but i wanna see what you wrote !” you kick your legs up in the air, pouting at his back sitting in his office chair. “i’ve been waiting for decades to see you write with that arm again.”

katsuki scoffs out a snarky laugh “yeah, well how do you think i feel ?” you groan, whining at his dark joke, he laughs again. “just stay put. ‘m..almost done.” he trails off, focusing back on his surprisingly long task.

you do know that despite being able to use his arm again, it had gone slow—surely, but really slowly. then again, he originally wouldn’t have been able to use that arm at all, so you’ll honestly take anything.

but the excitement is getting to you, and you really wanna see what he wrote ! so slowly, surely, you quietly try to sneak the short distance to his desk to peek behind his shoulder. however, your boyfriend has some crazy spider senses.

he sighs “if i turn around and you’re not sittin’ your ass on the bed i’ll—HEY !”

busted. katsuki catches you mid creep, so close to seeing his paper until he swiftly turns in his chair. he reaches out with his left hand, reflexively, and grabs a hold of your arm.

“you can’t ever just—do what you’re fuckin’ told ! knew you were being too damn quiet ! ” he complains between gritted teeth, trying to wrestle you away from him.

“i just—wanna see !” you shriek. when he suddenly remembers he can use his right hand again, and it almost feels nostalgic the way he jams it in your side to tickle you, dropping his pencil in the process. you think you hear it rolling on the floor, but your own noises of surprise overpowered the sound. he’d really gotten better at using that arm again, you could cry if your boyfriend wasn’t actively trying to shove his entire hand inside your ribs and push you away.

during the light scuffle, his hurried movements magically make the paper fly away with a harsh whip of his arm and a gust of wind, you thank every god when you notice it, just a second before he does. you’re half sure the world slowed down as you slide down to the floor and clutch the piece of paper in your grasp like the fate of the world depended on it.

the little piece of paper makes your heart jump, with its crumpled up edges and wonky writing and all.

I love you

both the o’s are too long, his u trails off towards the end and the e looks like he'd written it with the pencil in his mouth. it looks nothing like his usual handwriting.

but it was him, unmistakably, undeniably him and all of him and all of his efforts. all his efforts coming down to this. being able to write i love you and to show you.

your heart does more than jump, it restarts in your chest.

harshly, your flipped over by katsuki. he’s red all the way down to his neck and his eyebrows twitch angrily. but his hands, both his hands are gripping your cheeks hard and pulling at them and you can’t help but laugh.

“little shit. can never jus’ lemme be romantic..” he pouts, pouts like the adorable tryharding asshat he is, and you’re so so happy. your cheeks hurt cus he's tugging at them but his right thumb is digging into your cheek. you can feel the little callous on his middle finger because he holds his pencil with too much pressure on it.

“you’re so adorable.” it tumbles out between a watery laugh before you can stop it, katsuki’s jaw ticks and he gets even redder if that was even possible—he uses his right hand to squish your nose shut mid breath so your ears pop.

“shut it, shut up. ya ruined everything.” ducking down, his teeth make contact with your cheek and your chin knocks against his when you jump with a little scream. "i literally just finished. was just about to hand it to you, but noooo—everythin' has to go your way.." he angrily mumbles into your neck.

you press a kiss to his nape and he stiffens "i'm sorry for ruining your perfect surprise." he scoffs, biting at your shoulder. "i'm really happy though, it was unfortunately very worth it."

"you're a fuckin' fiend." he spits out, and you really can't help but laugh "love you too." you snort out, and his hands, both of them squeeze your sides hard, your cheeks hurt and you can't help but laugh.

despite being allergic to pollen, BAKUGO KATSUKI spends most of valentine’s day at the flower shop downtown. despite the itch in his throat and despite the sting in his eyes, he refuses to leave.

his fingers twitch as he reaches for a bouquet. would you like roses? too cliche. sunflowers? too tacky. what the hell are peonies, and why do there have to be so many options to choose from?

he exhales sharply through his nose (bad idea, now he’s sneezing too) as he stomps over to the counter.

he grumbles at the florist, rubbing aggressively at the bridge of his nose. “what do you recommend for..” his voice dips, almost like he’s embarrassed, “..someone you like?”

the old woman behind the counter smiles knowingly. “that depends,” she hums, closing the register. “what do you like about her?”

his mouth opens — then snaps shut. his face heats up. he hates this. but he hates the idea of letting you down even more.

“she’s, uh..” he looks away, jaw tightening as he tries not to sneeze again. “she’s a pain in the ass.”

the florist blinks.

katsuki scoffs, gaze drifting while he’s deep in thought. “she’s loud, annoying, never shuts up.” his voice softens slightly. “but she’s.. nice. laughs like a fuckin’ idiot. and-” he clenches his fists. looks up. “-she likes flowers. a lot.”

the woman chuckles, already putting together a bouquet. “sounds like you’ve got it bad, kid.” katsuki scowls, but doesn’t argue.

by the time he leaves, gift in hand, his allergies are destroying him. his eyes are puffy, nose red, and he feels like absolute shit. but when he sees the look on your face later that day, the way you light up as he stands on your doorstep — none of that seems to matter.

i am NOT done yapping about how in love husband! katsuki is with his dear wife.

you were curled up on the couch later that night, katsuki’s arm draped around your shoulders while you scrolled through twitter again. he was half-asleep, head tilted back against the cushions, soft breaths leaving his lips.

just as you were about to close the app, another tweet popped up on your feed— one that made you freeze.

original tweet: "yeah babe gimme a minute, js fighting crime rn"

underneath was a blurry, mid-action shot of katsuki during a recent mission. in one hand, his phone was visible, screen lit up, while his other hand was mid-explosion, sending a villain flying backward.

the kicker? he was grinning at his phone. not his usual battle-hungry, determined smirk. no, this was softer. goofy. a full-blown, lovesick idiot smile.

the kind of smile he only ever gave you.

"oh my god. katsuki," you whispered, shaking his arm. "wake up."

he groaned, cracking one eye open. "what now?"

you shoved the phone in his face. "explain."

he squinted at the screen, brow furrowing. his jaw immediately clenched when he recognized himself in the picture.

meanwhile, twitter had already decided:

- "hero of the year goes to dynamight for texting his wife while fighting crime."

- "bro’s out here fighting for his life and still prioritizing his girl. goals."

- "im jealous. getting a text back while he's FIGHTING VILLAINS IS CRAZYYY"

his mouth opened. closed. then he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. "shit. didn't think they got that on camera."

"you didn’t think holding your phone in the middle of a fight would get caught on camera?"

"i was multitaskin'!" his ears were bright red.

"oh, for fuck's sake," you huffed, half-frustrated, half-melting into a puddle of affection. "is this why you said 'one sec babe, busy' that one time like you were busy with, oh, i don't know, paperwork instead of fighting a damn villain?"

"i had it under control," he grumbled, running a hand over his face. "was just checkin’ in on you."

"checking in?" you echoed, laughing. "you were literally detonating someone with your other hand!"

he groaned. "s’not my fault. needed to text my girl. s'not a crime."

your heart stuttered. "while fighting villains?"

"yeah, well...ya texted first."

you blinked. "so this is my fault?"

"yeah," he crossed his arms, cheeks turning pink. "maybe if ya didn’t make me smile like a fuckin’ idiot, i wouldn’t get caught slackin’. you seemed excited over something... figured you'd wanna talk."

your heart stopped for a second, warmth flooding through you.

"you’re such a dumbass," you said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. you leaned up, wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling into him. "missed me that much, huh?"

he huffed but didn’t stop you, his arms tightened around you, his embarrassment giving way to quiet satisfaction. "yeah, yeah. always miss you."

and the next time you texted him during work, you made damn sure to add:

"don't text back. fight the damn villains first."

he didn’t listen, obviously.

"they can wait. they know how important my wife is."

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

Whipped Cream ۶ৎBNHA UNI.AU

—>

‘do not touch.’ -k.b

You scoff at the ridiculous sticky note left on the bottle of whipped cream. Who does he think he is claiming an entire bottle and what the hell could he be using it for ?

It was dark and the kitchen dorms appeared empty, it was also 1am so it figures that everyone would be asleep if not on patrol for the night.

You had a smug look before taking the sticky note off the bottle and popping the cap, your finger gently pressing the top as the whipped cream fell into your mouth.

Once you were done you licked your lips, satisfied with yourself but nearly dropped the bottle when you were met with the bastard himself.

“Tsk, fucking greedy ass.” and it would’ve been more insulting if he wasn’t smiling.

“Says the one with the note on a bottle of whipped cream that’s almost a gallons worth ??”

“Oh yeah, who do you think the note was intended for ?”

And your mouth fell open. YOU ?! He was implying..no.. he KNEW you’d take it, what an ass.

“You know wha-“ and before you could protest his hand came up to your cheek, resting for a moment before he wiped the bottom of your lip and licked his finger with the nastiest grin you’ve ever seen him give.

“Missed a spot.”

—

Needless to say it wasn’t the last time you ate his stuff and he had no intention of getting rid of those sticky notes.

'Revenge is bad' to YOU. i love when a character destroys everyone who wronged them. i love when they get to bite and maim and tear and rip and scratch and kill. Sorry ur catholic about it but i'm different

giddy up!!

ac: aransmind