katsukissed

[katsukissed]

feining over fantasy au/viking bkg. like ughhh his fantasy au outfit with the cloak and the necklaces. cuddling with him around the fire. ughh i need to write about this.

also i will get to the drabble requests i promise <3

[katsukissed]

ᯓ★ katsuki build-a-drabble

send me a combo of any of the following, and i’ll write a little bkg x reader drabble based on it:

💌 a trope

🎞️ a setting

❤️ a word

examples ౨ৎ

“roommates” + “laundromat” + clingy

“friends with benefits” + “gym locker room” + sore

“bed sharing” + “snowed-in cabin” + warmth

go anon, send as many as you want, go crazy. this is my way of justifying how often i think about this man (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

@katsukissed 💋

[katsukissed]

i ❤️ fem!katsuki

katsuki and her weird kissing habits

(butch boyfriend katsuki my beloved)

divider: @leafsea

❤︎ katsuki just looooooooves kissing you in the most random places

❤︎ your shoulder, your knee, behind your ear

❤︎ sometimes even the top of your feet when you two are on the couch enjoying each other's company after a long day

❤︎ but her favorite place? your palm for some reason

❤︎ yes she can just kiss the back of your hand since it's right there which she definitely does do

❤︎ but your palm is just so soft and it's much more intimate than anything else to her

"katsuki, you're really weird," you look at her with a semi puzzled face after she kisses your palm while you're showing her your new manicure.

"you would think you would be used to my so-called weirdness babe," she smirks up at you as you stand next to her sitting in her desk chair.

you twist your face at the hidden snark in her words, you've been with her for a year and have been knowing each other for longer so you know when it's snark.

"one day you're gonna snark me and you're gonna have a pillow to your stupid ass hair," you mug her with that subconscious pout that she loves.

"yea okay princess, i can't wait to see that happen."

[katsukissed]

s’cute when you scowl • kb x f!reader

⤷ riding, slow burn, praise, angry face, teasing, dom!bakugo, dirty talk, explicit (18+)

an: reader with angry orgasm face LOL (is this relatable or just me?)

you don’t mean to look angry.

you’re not angry.

you’re just - focused. overwhelmed. trying to hold on.

but your brows are furrowed, lips parted in a tight grimace, eyes squeezed shut like you’re trying not to cry or bite him.

and katsuki?

he’s living for it.

you’re on top of him, knees pressed into the mattress, hips rolling slow and deep, and he can’t stop staring.

his hands are gripping your thighs, mouth parted slightly, chest rising and falling fast.

“jesus christ- ” he breathes. “you look like you wanna kill me.”

you whimper - a sound so high and desperate it doesn’t even match the expression on your face - and drop your head for a second, hiding in the crook of his neck.

“shut up,” you mumble, breathless. “feels too good.”

he groans. his fingers flex around your hips.

“yeah?” his voice is low, teasing. “that what the death glare’s for?”

you bite his shoulder. he laughs - moans - fuck, he’s losing it.

because you’re so tight around him. so wet. riding him slow like you’re trying to memorize the shape of his cock, every inch.

but your face is twisted up in this angry little pout like you’re mad about how good he feels inside you. like it’s his fault.

and maybe it is.

“you gonna tell me how good it is?” he pants, one hand trailing up your back, cupping the nape of your neck. “or just keep scowlin’ at me like that?”

“shut up, katsuki- ”

“no.” he bucks up into you hard. grins when your angry little moan punches out of your throat. “look at me when you cum. want that pissed off face burned into my brain.”

and when you finally do - clenching tight, mouth falling open, face twisted in frustration like it’s too much - he holds your hips down and groans like a sinner.

“fuck, you’re unreal.”

after, when you’re breathless and limp on top of him, he strokes your back and murmurs against your shoulder:

“you know you scowl the whole time, right?”

“i do not- ”

“yeah, you do.” he smirks. kisses your temple. “s’cute.”

and you hate how that makes you smile.

but not enough to stop doing it.

⤷ @katsukissed

do not repost, translate, or plagiarise. reblogs are appreciated ♡

[katsukissed]

KATSUKI, IM READY FOR U (・ω<)

[katsukissed]

next time i’m takin’ you with me • kb x f!reader

⤷ long-distance, facetime sex, praise, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, soft dom!bakugo, explicit (18+)

he’s only been gone for two days.

but it’s already too long.

you’re curled up in bed, half-scrolling, half-pouting, your shirt stretched off one shoulder and your phone glowing softly in your lap.

you’re thinking about texting him.

you’re not expecting him to text first.

[22:17] katsuki: you up?

your heart jumps.

you snap a picture without thinking - your bare thighs under the sheets, a sliver of lacy underwear peeking out - and hit send.

[22:18] you: missing you

[22:18] you: this is your fault btw

he doesn’t reply right away.

and then you get a photo back.

it’s blurry. hastily taken. his hand is in his hair, his sweats are low on his hips, and his abs look stupid good in the hotel mirror.

[22:20] katsuki: i can’t fuckin sleep. need to see you.

your screen flashes.

incoming facetime call: katsuki 💥

you answer.

he’s in bed, shirtless, the hotel light dim and warm behind him. he’s got that look on his face - tired, frustrated, but soft when he sees you.

“hey,” you whisper, smiling.

“fuck, baby.” his voice is rough. “you look good.”

“i look like a mess.”

“yeah. my mess.” he shifts the phone, angles it so you can see the slope of his stomach. “lemme see you.”

you hesitate. he sees it. his voice drops.

“please.”

so you pull the sheet back. slow. teasing.

you’re in that old t-shirt he loves, no bra, those little panties he always pulls off with his teeth.

his breath hitches. “jesus christ.”

you slide the shirt off, let it fall behind you.

“you touching yourself yet?” he asks.

you shake your head, bite your lip. “waiting for you.”

he groans - low and dangerous - and you see his hand move. just a little. out of frame.

“fuckin’ love you,” he mutters. “open your legs.”

you do. shift back on the pillows, one hand holding the phone, the other trailing down slowly, eyes locked on him.

“look at you,” he breathes. “so pretty for me. all wet already?”

you nod. you don’t have words.

your fingers find your clit and his jaw tightens.

“wish i was there.” his voice is strained now, eyes dark. “wish i could fuckin touch you. bet you feel so warm.”

“katsuki- ” you whimper.

he slips his hand under his waistband and your breath catches when he pulls it out, hard and leaking and flushed red at the tip.

“that what you wanted?”

you nod, eyes wide.

he spits in his hand. starts stroking himself - slow, tight. you match his rhythm, fingers moving in slow circles, hips twitching up with every breath.

“fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“wish you were here,” you pant. “miss you.”

he groans again, head falling back.

“i’d have you on your hands and knees by now,” he growls. “face in the pillow. beggin’ for me.”

you moan - loud and breathy.

“keep goin’, baby. don’t stop.” his voice is shaking now. “wanna see you cum. wanna hear it.”

you’re getting close. your thighs are trembling. the phone slips a little and you don’t even care - you want to see him.

he’s got sweat at his hairline, lips parted, moaning softly now with every stroke.

“you look so fuckin good like this.”

you whimper, back arching.

“cum for me,” he growls. “atta girl. let me see.”

and you do - with a gasp, a cry of his name, thighs clenching around your hand. your whole body shakes.

he finishes seconds later - groaning, hips jerking, spilling over his abs, his breath catching in his throat.

for a moment, it’s quiet.

just breathing.

the sound of you both coming back to earth.

“you okay?” he asks softly.

you nod. “yeah.”

you smile. “you always know how to take care of me.”

he sighs, pulling the phone closer to his face.

“next time,” he says, voice thick and quiet, “i’m takin’ you with me.”

you fall asleep with the call still on.

his breathing in your ear.

his soft little “i love you” the last thing you hear.

⤷ @katsukissed

do not repost, translate, or plagiarise. reblogs are appreciated ♡

asks/requests are welcome!

[katsukissed]

wanna be moots? i love ur writing sm!

ofc!!! thank you sm!! ❤️❤️❤️

[katsukissed]

drabble | bakugo x reader | fluff

bakugo and kpopfan!reader - two massive nerds in love. he collects all might cards. you collect photocards.

thinking of bakugo and reader both being MASSIVE NERDS.

like obviously everyone knows about bakugos obsession with all might but imagine reader also having an obsession like kpop! (this is self indulgent because this is me LOL)

you’re just as bad as him.

except your weakness is photocards.

and boy groups.

and glittery album inclusions that you nearly cried over once because you pulled your ult on the first try.

god. the way he respects it.

like sure, he talks shit. he’ll cross his arms and say “you spent how much on that little piece of paper?”

you forcing bakugo to pick a bias every time you stan a new group. you’re sat cross-legged on the couch with your ipad open like you’re presenting a TED Talk.

bakugo’s got his arms crossed and his “i don’t care” face on. he absolutely cares. you introduce each member and show your favourite performance video.

“okay so who’s your bias?”

bakugo blinks.

“…that one. the one in the blue. he’s the best.”

he probably just picks a random one to satisfy you but whatever. 😭

doesn’t know the names. doesn’t need to. he’ll just say “i saw your favorite guy’s new hair”. and then lets you ramble for an hour about how this is the most important thing ever.

you drag him to every concert. he shows up in a basic fit, phone 100% charged, battery pack ready, already mapped the route to the venue and back.

“you’ll get lost without me,” he grumbles.

he takes perfect videos. better than the fansites. catches the exact moment your fave makes eye contact with your section and you scream like you’ve been shot.

and he gets the whole thing on video - you, singing along, hands in the air, eyes sparkling. on the way home he’ll send you all the photos so you can post them on instagram.

you caught him singing Likey by TWICE once while he was doing dishes.

and by “singing,” you mean full-on under-the-breath chorus, hips swaying slightly.

you got the first five seconds on video before he turned around and yelled “DELETE THAT SHIT.”

but of course you are there for his interests too.

most nights, it’s quiet.

you’re on the floor surrounded by sleeves and washi tape, trying to reorganize your binder by era again.

he’s at the table, deep in his own world - alphabetizing all might cards by arc and manufacturer like it’s the end of days.

quiet music is playing. there’s a half-finished soda on the table. your knees brush under the desk and neither of you say anything.

“hey,” you say, squinting. “does this sleeve look weird to you?”

“it’s 55x85. that’s the wrong kind. switch it.”

he doesn’t even look up.

he gets just as hyped as you do over limited drops.

“only the first 1,000 got the clear lenticular card with the glitter foil…”

“yeah. that’s like the 2014 all might x jump festa gold variant. shit was brutal.”

you nod solemnly.

you’re both sat on the couch at 11:58PM on a thursday, two laptops open, countdown running.

you’re logged into each other’s accounts.

“you do the weverse drop, i’ll grab from animate. GO.”

you high-five like olympians when you both get your stuff.

and then you spend the rest of the night sleeving new pulls in perfect silence, trading gummy bears between bites.

no one gets it but you two.

and honestly?

you wouldn’t have it any other way.

⤷ @katsukissed

do not repost, translate, or plagiarise. reblogs are appreciated ♡

[katsukissed]

pro hero dynamight who gets hit with a quirk that makes him run his mouth (some kinda truth serum vibe idk it's 2pm don't look to me for smarts ever) and ends up saying "yeah i gotta finish patrol without hurtin' myself 'cause my girl said i could hit it raw if i come home with no blood on me" on live national television

[katsukissed]

i love frat whore bakugo 🙂‍↕️

feining for frat boy katsuki…

it was hot. loud. half the girls were already screaming over shirtless frat boys grinding against windshields. your friend dragged you out with a “come on, it’s for charity!” and now you’re standing in the corner with a lukewarm lemonade and zero expectations.

you didn’t even want to come to this stupid fraternity fundraiser.

your roommate dragged you out with the promise of half-naked frat boys, but all you’ve seen so far are drenched freshmen trying to flex their way into a hernia.

but then you see him.

he’s got his back turned at first—lean muscle, golden skin, red swim trunks slung way too low on his hips. sunlight catches the water dripping down his back like it’s staged. and when he turns around?

game over. he’s gorgeous.

sharp jaw, wild blonde hair flattened from water, a cocky little smirk on his face as he wrings a sponge out over his head, totally aware of the stares.

and he sees you. right away. ruby eyes locked with yours and gives the most arrogant little up-nod like, yeah. you’re next.

you try to act unaffected. fail immediately.

he saunters over, sudsy bucket in one hand, water dripping down his abs like it’s a fucking calvin klein ad. stops right in front of you, eyeing your car, then you, then your car again. “you the one drivin’ this piece of shit?”

you blink. “excuse me?!”

he shrugs but you can see a little grin tugging on the corner of his mouth, smug and unbothered. “relax. i’ll make it look brand new.”

he puts the bucket down, saunters over, and damn—he’s even hotter up close. tall. muscles for days. and that little scar on his cheek? unfair.

then, leaning closer, voice low: “the name's katsuki bakugo. what’s yours, sweet girl?”

you tell him. maybe a little breathless.

he repeats it once—slow, like he’s trying it out on his tongue. “hm. yeah. i like that.”

and then he goes to work. but not just on the car.

katsuki bakugo washes that car like he’s auditioning for the dirtiest boy band you’ve ever seen. dropping the sponge just to bend over in front of you, ass on full display. making eye contact when he slides his hand over the hood like he’s caressing it. watering himself down with a hose and shaking his hair out like he’s in a shampoo commercial from hell.

by the time he’s done, your car is sparkling. and so are you—flushed, flustered.

he tosses the sponge into the bucket, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and smirks. “lemme know if you need a private wash sometime.”

and then he walks away, with you watching the water dripping down the curve of his spine, no better than a teenage boy ogling the back of a girl's bikini. you swear you black out for a second too.

it’s only a few hours after the car wash before he slides in your dms, smooth but dirty. you’re in your room, still reeling from whatever the hell that was, when your phone buzzes.

king.explosionmurder has sent you a message.

(yeah. that’s his actual handle. because of course it is.) then, you open it.

king.explosionmurder:

can't stop thinking about the girl with the shittiest car and the cutest fuckin’ face.

you stare. then another message pops up.

king.explosionmurder:

u free tonight?

or maybe you're too busy being adorable somewhere else?

your heart does a thing. you type out a reply—something just barely cocky enough to match him:

you:

depends

you always this forward?

king.explosionmurder:

only for girls with shitty taste in cars

so, only you

let me buy you a drink, sweet girl?

you:

fine

you can buy me a drink, frat boy

but for the record?

my taste in cars is not that shitty

king.explosionmurder:

whatever you say beautiful

8 pm, sunset bar down 5th ave

don't be late

katsuki shows up five minutes early, in a black tee that clings to his chest and jeans that should be illegal. hair still messy from his post-car-wash shower. when you walk in, his eyes track you like you’re the only person in the room.

“tch. thought you were gonna flake.”

you roll your eyes. “you’d cry if i did.”

his mouth twitches. “like a damn baby.”

then the date just... hits different. it wasn't what you expected. sure, it’s packed with college students and frat bros, but in the back corner booth? with him?

it’s quiet. comfortable. almost… intimate.

he’s not much of a talker, but with you? he tries. you ask about his major—he’s an aspiring pro-hero, of course—and he asks about yours, grumbling when you light up talking about it, because “fuck, that smile’s gonna kill me.”

and even though he’d die before saying it out loud, the minute you take a sip of your drink and laugh at something dumb he says? he’s gone. head over heels.

he walks you back to your dorm with his hand on the small of your back, even though it’s barely a ten-minute walk. says “text me when you’re in” even though he literally watched you unlock your door. stands there, gruff and gorgeous, waiting.

“gonna invite me?” he asks, tone teasing.

you shake your head, grinning. “not on the first date, i'm not.”

he groans dramatically. “damn. fuckin’ killin’ me here.”

you grin. “goodnight, frat boy.”

but he doesn’t move right away.

just stands there under the warm porch light, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to work off the ache of not touching you again. his shirt clings to him in the summer heat, his jaw sharp in the glow, but it’s his eyes that freeze you in place.

not hard. not sharp. not the glare he usually levels at the world.

but soft. heavy. like you’ve stolen the breath from his lungs and he doesn’t even want it back.

he looks at you like you hung the damn moon.

he takes one small step closer, close enough that you can feel the heat coming off his chest, close enough that if either of you moved just an inch, you’d be kissing.

“goodnight, sweet girl,” he says, voice low and rough, like gravel laced with honey.

it hits you somewhere deep. like he’s branding the words into you.

and then—he actually smiles. a real one. lopsided, shy, the kind of smile you’d never expect from someone who threatens to body slam people over couch cushions.

then he turns and walks away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down, like if he looks back even once, he’ll do something stupid like run back and kiss you senseless.

you close the door behind you, heart thudding so hard you swear your roommate can hear it.

you’re screwed. so screwed.

because things after that? they move fast.

to everyone else, he was the guy who'd scream if you left dishes in the sink, throw a beer can at you if you sat on his side of the couch, and threaten to body slam you if you so much as breathe near him.

but the entire frat house knew that their loud, grumpy, terrifyingly efficient frat dad—had a soft spot the size of a planet. and that soft spot? was for you.

you’re the only person allowed in his room during his grumpy post-practice naps. the only one who can touch his hair without him flinching. he’d grumble when you flick his forehead when he was being dramatic but he'd let you.

he might curse under his breath, but when you’d slide onto his lap during movie night, he'd wrap an arm around you like it was instinct. like protecting you came as naturally as breathing.

he had snacks stocked in the mini fridge (not for him, you liked them). he hands you your favorite snack and grumbles, “was on sale. don’t get used to it,” even though it’s never on sale but he bought six of them anyway.

and when finals week hits? he’s a damn soldier for you.

caffeine runs. your favorite takeout. quiet growls at anyone who tries to talk to you in the library. he reads your flashcards like they’re enemy coordinates and quizzing you becomes his personal mission.

but the best part? the tiny, quiet moments in between.

like when he’s losing at mario kart and you’d sit in his lap while he played, steal his fries, kiss his cheek mid-rant just to shut him up.

or when you were too tired to walk back to your place, you just curl up in his bed. not only does he let you, he tucks the blanket around you and kisses your forehead so soft it makes your chest ache.

and somehow, all of that was like magic.

sure, he might’ve acted like the world’s most chaotic, aggressive frat president, but when it came to you? he was all bark, all bite… and all heart.

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

[katsukissed]

clingy bakugo 😩😩

❀ eepy — bnha

warn / none

incl / bkugoo

note /

katsuki literally and i mean literally cannot sleep without you.

it's the middle of the night, around 4 am when your bladder decides enough is enough. your not psyched about having to slowly crawl over and off your boyfriends warm body but it's inevitable if you want too pee.

eventually you make it too the bathroom, sitting in relief, then you hear it.

footsteps

"fuck are you doin'" an adorabley soft bakugou mumbles as he stands in front of you, still on the toilet.

you giggle slightly as his eyes adjust, "peeing, what are you doing?"

bakugou doesn't say anything as you wipe and finished washing your hands. "fuckin left me, got scared."

you almost don't register as the man snuggles you back into bed, head on your chest arms tucked tightly against your waist.

"i had to pee, i didn't leave you, i would never do that."

he grunts before falling back asleep, and you nod off thinking it was a fluke, that he was just woken up by your movements

3 days later, the moment forgotten, it happens again.

"oh shit! you scared me..what is it..? was i to loud, sorry." you're in the kitchen, ravished with hunger and cooking together a small concoction of sugar and batter.

bakugou is barefoot across from you, staring in complete silence, you would laugh if you weren't so concerned for him.

"why'd you do that." his voice sounds like putty.

"do what sweetheart?" you patter over to him, cupping his face as he breathes into your palms.

"leave me again, you weren't in that bathroom." he mumbles.

you sigh and ignore the implications of what he said, that bakugou was missing you, and that he went looking.

"m' sorry, i got hungry."

"well, tell me next time then, i'll make you something."

he isn't angry, but he's got a sort of kicked puppy look on his face you know he doesn't think hes wearing. you smile.

"okay, back to bed? i was just finished here anyway."

he nods and you walk hand in hand to the mattress.

it when happens a third time you realize your boyfriend might not be able to sleep without you.

"kats, i'm just finishing up here, you don't have to stay awake with me."

"can't sleep." it's almost 1AM at this point and you aren't nearly as far ahead on your work as you should be.

katsuki would really much rather be asleep, his body feels tired and yet his eyes won't close.

"why not? is the light to bright?" katsuki groans like its the most obvious thing in the world, and really by now, it should be.

"just get in bed, i'm tired [Name]."

and you make no protest, your work was moving just about as slow as katsuki patience, you cling into bed next to him and as expected, he's out like a light.

masterlist

[katsukissed]

drabble | bakugo x reader | crack lowkey

warm summer night + pho w/ bkg

the fan is on low, TV playing quietly, golden late-summer light filtering through the open balcony doors. you’re in pyjamas, hair tied up messily, legs tangled on the sofa - and there’s steam curling from the pho containers on the coffee table. cosy, spicy, home.

on the left, bakugos spicy pho taí (rare beef pho) broth warm, beefy and ridiculously spicy. he even adds a few dashes of chilli oil and some lime. he’s eating with quiet focus, dunking bean sprouts, slurping noodles, but still watching you suffer out the corner of his eye.

bakugo rolls his eyes at you when you order the same damn thing you always do - the spicy beef brisket that wrecks you every time - but he never stops you. just shakes his head and mutters, “you’re gonna cry again.”

on the right side of the coffee table is your order. simple pho bò sate (spicy beef brisket). the broth is deep and rich - spiced to hell, with chili oil shimmering on the surface. it starts warm, savoury… but creeps up the back of your throat with a slow, sneaky burn. you’re wiping your nose with one hand, clutching your chopsticks with the other, refusing to give in.

“it’s fine,” you say, eyes watering. “it’s really good.”

and it is. it is delicious but you can’t hide the fact that the milk katsuki poured for you is the only reason you’re surviving right now. you drink it in tiny, guilty sips between mouthfuls, trying to pretend you’re not relying on it. he’s watching you with a knowing smirk. this happens every time. but you just won’t change your order.

⤷ @katsukissed

do not repost, translate, or plagiarise. reblogs are appreciated ♡

[katsukissed]

oneshot | bakugo x reader | fluff

bakugo figures out that playing with your hair makes you melt - and he never lets you live it down.

an: self indulgent lol - reader is me and i am reader

at first, you don’t say anything. it’s embarrassing but it feels so good.

you’re laying on the couch, head in his lap, while he’s focused on his phone - one hand absently resting on your shoulder, warm and heavy.

and all you do is… nudge your head just a little closer. a tiny shift, just enough that his fingertips brush your scalp when he moves.

it’s casual. innocent. subtle.

totally not a hint.

except you do it again the next night.

and the night after that.

and then you start lying down in ways that conveniently expose the top of your head. leaning into his side with your hair perfectly fluffed up and ready. sighing dramatically when he runs his hand anywhere near your face.

“you good?” he asks one night, squinting at you. “you got a headache or somethin’?”

“no,” you say quickly. “just… tired.”

“tch. then go to sleep.”

you pout, disappointed, but you don’t say what you really want - because how do you explain that you’re desperate for him to just… play with your hair? scratch your scalp a little? gently pet you like a fucking cat?

it’s embarrassing.

you think you’re being subtle.

you are not.

———

the night he finally figures it out, it’s because you let out the most pathetic little noise when he accidentally scratches behind your ear.

he freezes. hand still tangled in your hair.

“…what the hell was that.”

you blink up at him, wide-eyed. “what?”

“you just made a fuckin’ noise.”

“no i didn’t- ”

“you moaned, you freak.”

“I didn’t moan- !”

he stares at you for a second. then he slowly slides his fingers back through your hair, nails dragging gently against your scalp.

and when your whole body slumps with a deep, involuntary sigh.

he grins. all teeth. smug as hell.

“holy shit,” he says. “you like this.”

“no- ” you start, weakly.

“nah. nah, you love this.”

his voice drops into something teasing. wicked. delighted.

“could’ve just asked, y’know. i would’ve had you purring like a damn cat days ago.”

you groan and cover your face with both hands, already melting.

———

you don’t even ask anymore.

you just sigh dramatically ‘katsukiiiii’, all whiny and sleepy and he doesn’t even look up from his phone. just pats his thigh or lifts the blanket and goes, “get over here.”

you climb into bed, roll onto your side, and nuzzle into him like it’s instinct - which, at this point, it kind of is. and the second your head hits his chest or his lap or the pillow next to him, his hand’s already in your hair.

fingertips circling your scalp. scratching behind your ears. tugging gently at your roots.

you melt. every time.

and he knows it.

“jesus,” he mutters, not even trying to hide the smirk, “you’re so damn easy.”

but he says it like he’s proud. like he’s won. like i found the cheat code to your brain and now you’re useless in my hands.

and you are. 100%.

sometimes he makes you beg a little, just to be annoying.

“tch, you gonna fall asleep without your lil head rub tonight? poor baby.”

and you glare at him through half-lidded eyes like don’t play with me, but you’re already leaning into his palm.

and he lives for it.

⤷ @katsukissed

do not repost, translate, or plagiarise. reblogs are appreciated ♡

[katsukissed]

i love chronically offline bkg. like he’s so dry but only because he doesn’t text much and isn’t on social media. he texts like a dad LOL like always using 👍 to everything ughhhhh he can’t take selfies. he can’t work out instagram

like he uses his phone like a dad:

[katsukissed]

smau | bakugo x reader | fluff

reader is on a 4 day overseas mission. bkg insists its no big deal but his msgs say otherwise

an: first smau!! this was so fun to write

⤷ @katsukissed

do not repost, translate, or plagiarise. reblogs are appreciated ♡

[katsukissed]

me time. 𝜗𝜚⋆

cw: bakugo fluff, making out, bakugo x chubby reader

its sunday night. your phone vibrates every three seconds with notifications from your best friends, ochako, momo, and mina.

mina: girl, is your date over yet? we miss youuu

and where are you?

the figure underneath your fluffy blanket (the one with the pompompurin patterns on it) lets out an incoherent sound and reaches over, grabbing your phone and clicking do not disturb.

“do they ever stop talking?” he grumbles, shifting underneath the blanket, causing you to squeak.

“kats, quit moving!” you whine. “you’re heavy.” he’d been laying on top of you, covered by the blanket and nose stuffed in your tits without complaint, just harsh, really warm breathing.

your boyfriend frowns, looking up at you. “then tell your friends to be quiet. it’s me time, not girls’ night or whatever they said.”

you can’t help but giggle at his irritated face. “oh, it’s you time?”

he nods, making a noise of agreement and settling his face in your skin again. his own phone has been silenced long ago, stuffed somewhere underneath the fluffy pillows of your bed.

“you’re so adorable,” you coo, running your fingers through his spiky blonde hair. “ ‘you time.’ i like the sound of that.” “i’m not fuckin’ adorable. it’s me time ’cause you’re mine.” he scowls, a tiny crease disrupting the space between his brows as he rises up from the blanket, putting his hands on either side of your head on the wall behind the couch.

“kats, don’t touch the wall. how many times do i tell you?” you scold him. “you leave scuff marks on —”

you’re interrupted by his mouth capturing yours heatedly.his lips are always warm so he feels comforting when he grabs you closer, deepening the kiss with his tongue and sliding his hands up your shirt. “katsuki!.” you mewl out when he moves to your neck, anchoring yourself by grabbing his hair.

he kisses noisily up your neck, grasping gently at your tits before giving your earlobe a tiny bite and going back to your lips. (did he just burn the corner of your shirt? you can’t tell.) all you know is this last kiss is intense.

when you finally break apart, you’re practically gasping for air — you hadn’t been expecting it, but you’re not really complaining.

“what part of me time do you not get?” he complains, his face red, hair mussed.

you blink. “what do you mean?” you say, puzzled.

bakugo frowns slightly, but there’s a twinkle in his eye when he tucks your hair behind your ear and leaves his hand there. “in me time, your friends don’t get to say anything. and also, you don’t get to complain.”

“but you can?” you can’t help but smirk at his hypocrisy, bakugo can’t go a single second without complaining but he’s telling you not to?

“mhmmm,” he sighs, breathing in your scent and leaning into your neck, staying there for a while.

“and you’re telling me, if i break the rules of katsuki’s ‘me time’, what just happened will happen again?” you grin, holding him tight to your body with your hand on the back of his head.

“um — ” he starts, you can practically hear the frown in his voice turn into a smile. “well, maybe.”

and well, maybe you like ‘me time’ after all.

© vanilabaebo 2025.

[katsukissed]

drabble | dad!bakugo x reader | fluff

it’s 4am and your toddler can’t sleep. he finds the hello kitty stamps in the drawer… based on this (pinterest pic)

the sky’s still black when your son starts wriggling out of his crib, warm and restless, and after a few failed attempts to settle him, you give in- scooping him into your arms and tiptoeing out of his nursery and into your bedroom carefully sitting on the bed trying not to wake katsuki.

he doesn’t stir. still flat on his front, mouth slightly open, one arm flung over your pillow like he’s still holding you. his hair’s a mess. the blanket’s half off. he doesn’t even flinch when your son whispers, “daddy’s snoring.”

you snort softly. “shhh.”

eventually, the toddler calms down - curling into your lap and whispering quietly about some dream he had. you pass him one of his picture books and a little drink, kiss the top of his warm, sleepy head. peace, for a while.

until he finds the hello kitty stamps.

you don’t notice at first. he toddles towards your bedside table, suspiciously quiet, and you’re just too tired to investigate right away. you had to prohibit the stamps the day before because he was threatening to use them on the cream sofa. by the time you get up from the comfy place you were resting your head, he’s already climbed back up on the bed - one stamp in each tiny fist - and is carefully pressing them to katsukis bare back.

you freeze. “oh my god - baby - no, don’t wake—”

but katsuki doesn’t move. not a muscle. not when your son giggles. not when a bright pink hello kitty face is pressed right between his shoulder blades. not even when he climbs onto him like a jungle gym.

you give up.

you let him keep going. you end up sitting on the floor beside katsukis side of the bed, head resting on your folded arms, watching through sleep-blurred eyes as your son joyfully decorates his dad’s back like a living colouring book. by the time the stamps run out, katsukis practically glowing in pastel ink.

eventually, your son crawls back into your lap again. his small hand finds yours. he quickly drifts off and you allow yourself to fall back asleep with a playful smile on your face.

⸻

the bathroom light flicks on a couple hours later.

katsuki squints into the mirror, water dripping from his face, grumbling something about his back hurting and the damn early sun. he glances down.

freezes.

spins around to look over his shoulder.

multiple of hello kittys dumb cute face stare back up at him through the mirror.

his eye twitches.

from the bedroom, two soft snores echo in unison.

he sighs and reaches for a towel to mop off the worst of it - which doesn’t help. but when he walks back into the room and sees the two of you curled up together, his hand lingers on the doorframe.

and his chest aches in the best way.

⤷ @katsukissed

do not repost, translate, or plagiarise. reblogs are appreciated ♡