sucuklu-katsudon476

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

Cherry sicle

Aged up | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘

It was so disgustingly hot outside.

The kind of sweltering, heavy heat that clung to your skin like a second layer, made your clothes feel suffocating, and had your apartment feeling like a damn oven. Japans summer was unforgiving, the kind that laughed in the face of fans and made cold showers feel like temporary band-aids.

And of course—of course—your AC unit decided to die in the middle of it. You’d spent all morning half-naked and half-insane, flipping breakers, poking at the old buttons, and even slapping the side of the unit like that would magically bring it back to life.

Nope. The thing stayed dead, buzzing weakly like it was mocking you.

After fifteen minutes of sweating and swearing, you gave up and flopped on your couch in a tank top with no bra and the thinnest pair of cotton shorts you owned. Then you grabbed a popsicle from the freezer—one of the last few—and pressed it to your neck before bringing it to your lips with a groan.

You sat there melting. Skin damp, thighs sticking to the leather. Tank top clinging to your chest. You looked like a heatstroke waiting to happen.

You were so desperate you even texted him.

—

You [1:42 PM]:

- my ac is broken and i’m literally melting

- can u come yell at it or punch it or something??

Bakugou [1:43 PM]:

- i’m not a fuckin repairman

- go stand in the freezer

You [1:43 PM]:

- katsukiiiii pls i’ll owe you 😩🥵🙏

Bakugou [1:44 PM]:

- …be there in 15

- don’t die

—

You perked up instantly, grabbing another popsicle just in case—something cold to survive until he arrived. You were licking it lazily when you heard the knock, then the door creaked open like he owned the place.

“You better not be dead or passed out half-naked,” he grumbled, kicking off his shoes and stepping inside. But when his eyes landed on you? He stopped. Just—stared.

You were laying on the couch, propped up on one elbow, sweat shining on your skin. Popsicle in your mouth, red juice glistening on your lips. Your tank top clung to your chest like a second skin, the outline of your nipples clearly visible, and your tiny shorts had ridden up just enough to give him a dangerous glimpse of thigh.

“…Seriously?” he muttered, trying to look anywhere but directly at you. “You wearin’ that on purpose?”

You blinked, confused. “What? No—it’s just so hot, I thought I was gonna die. This is literally all I could stand to put on.”

His jaw tightened. “Right.”

You took another slow lick of the cherry popsicle and smirked without realizing it. “You want one?”

He looked like he was in hell. “No.”

You sat up, licking the tip dramatically. “Sure? It’s cold. Kinda saving my life right now.”

“Yeah, I can fuckin’ see that,” he muttered, voice dropping an octave.

He stomped over to the AC unit like it had personally offended him. You watched him crouch down, hands already tugging at the wiring, sweat beginning to bead along his neck and arms. The tank top he was wearing stuck to his back, and his arms flexed every time he pulled at something.

God, he was glowing.

“Is it fixable?” you asked sweetly, swinging your legs a little.

“Dunno yet,” he muttered, not looking at you—trying not to look at you. “But this shitty-ass unit hasn’t been cleaned in fuckin’ years.”

You took a bite of your popsicle, cheeks puffing a little from the cold, and he caught the motion out of the corner of his eye. His jaw ticked again. He stood up, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm, and looked back at you—finally. Big mistake.

You were sucking the melting popsicle slowly, thighs rubbing together as the heat got to you. Your lips were red and shiny. Your skin flushed. You weren’t even trying—but fuck if you weren’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

And he hated how tight his pants were getting.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered under his breath, not even hiding the way his eyes dropped to your chest. “Swear to god.”

You tilted your head, playful. “What?”

“You sittin’ there like that. With that popsicle. Wearin’ that fuckin’ shirt. In this fuckin’ heat. You know what you’re doing.”

You licked a slow stripe up the side, teeth catching the end as you shrugged. “I really don’t. I’m just hot.”

Bakugou groaned, wiping the sweat from his brow again like that might help.

You held the popsicle up toward him. “Want a taste?”

He didn’t answer. Just took it from your hand—and wrapped his lips around it slowly, tongue curling around the end as he sucked the melting juice from it. Then he pulled back, lips wet and stained red.

“I got something sweeter.”

You blinked, heart jumping. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm.” His hands were on you in seconds—gripping your thighs and lifting you off the couch like it was nothing. He walked you to the kitchen, set your ass on the counter, and stood between your legs, his breath hot and heavy.

“Bet your mouth would look even better wrapped around me.”

You gasped, legs squeezing around his waist. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He grinned, cocky but flushed, his pants tented against your inner thigh. “And you called me over like this, actin’ all innocent—like you didn’t know exactly what you were doin’.”

You shivered, but not from the cold. His hands slid under your tank top, palms warm against your sticky skin. “You said you were hot, right?” he growled.

You nodded, breathless. “So hot…”

“Good.” His lips grazed your neck. “Let me help you sweat it out.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚ ༘

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

SUPPORT DEPARMENT!READER x KATSUKI BAKUGOU ༄ cw for the story: angst, situationship, enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, bakugo is a bitch and needs a hug, so does reader, fluff, eventual smut, suggestive, cussing. A/N: this chapter is mainly exposition, sorry! i will get into their dynamic in the next part <3 enjoy!

just like everyone else, you grew up fantasizing to be a hero one day. you watched all might all day and night on tv, admired local heroes in front of you, even joined a couple forums online that were all about heroes.

you dreamed of being one, of going to UA, working alongside teens across the country that have the same goals and aspirations as you was intoxicating to think about.

soon enough, your quirk developed, you had your dads quirk, you could take away heat from the air around you and channel it into the tips of your fingers. it wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t big, but you felt like if you trained hard enough, you could make it to the hero course.

your parents had split when you were young, and you were on good terms with both of them so the summer you had developed your quirk, you visited your dad for 2 months.

he was a mechanic, and he lived out in the outskirts of the city, and he was very.. rugged.

you learned quickly that slacking off was not allowed at your dads house. you weren’t allowed to sleep in, you had to wake up before the sun and help him work on cars but soon you got a taste for it. you had grown a love for cars, engineering, welding, etc.

by the end of summer, you were getting up on your own, enjoying seeing the sunrise as you guys went to the junkyard, coming out covered in grime and sweat, grabbing scraps for your new love of inventions.

of course you still were aspiring to be a hero, but you also really loved inventing new things, so you didn’t know what path to choose and your quirk was perfect for welding.

so you talked to the counselor at your middle school, wondering what career paths you could choose that would involve both saving lives and heroes and engineering.

“have you heard of the support department?”

support department?

you searched it up online,

“Students in this department focus on developing support equipment that help heroes out on the battlefield. With a workspace stocked to the brim with all sorts of special tools, the department provides an unmatched creative environment.”

you smiled at what your screen displayed.

it was perfect, so your new dream was to enroll into UA, join the support department, and open your own agency that’d help heroes build the equipment of their dreams that help them fight crime.

so that’s what you studied. you were in your first year of junior school (7th grade) when you realized this, so the next two summers you went back to your dad’s to work on cars and inventions, but during the school year, you trained. you trained really fucking hard. you did not play about getting into UA and chasing your dreams. if you only lived once, you were gonna live it right.

so you changed your schedule, mirroring the one you had during summer. you’d wake up every morning, go to the nearest junk yard which was a mile away from your house. you brought your wagon, and lugged scrap after scrap into it, dragging it back home.

your mom had made your own personal workshop in the basement, knowing how much it was your passion. you’d spend hours on hours down there, and not to toot your own horn but you were insane at engineering. if you could think it, you could build it.

your creativity was through the roof, you started taking commissions and fixing up cars by yourself, earning a bit of money to buy yourself an at home gym to train even more.

before you knew it, it was time for ‘entrance exams’, except for you, for support department students, you had to submit an invention, an original piece that was unique to you, easy to use, but difficult to make.

you spent months on your invention, your admissions essay, and your recommendations. you were overachieving, but you didn’t care.

when you got the letter in the mail, your heart thumped and thumped, your hands started to shake, barely seeing where the letter was sent from, all you could see was the UA stamp.

“mom! mom! it’s the letter!” you called out, setting it on the dining table as you saw your mom excitedly rush out of the bathroom, half her hair in hair rollers. she knew how hard you worked and she was proud of you if you got in or not.

“what are you doing? open it up!” she said, smiling ear to ear. you could swear she was more excited than you.

you picked up the letter, opening up the envelope and taking it out when a little button looking thing dropped out. you furrowed your brows, moving to pick it up before a hologram flickered on. you and your mom were both stunned, taking a step back before getting met with the face of all might, your childhood hero and inspiration, welcoming you to UA, and to their support department.

once the words reached your ears, you and your mom jumped around, hugging each other, beaming from ear to ear. you got in! you were gonna be the best of the best, and you weren’t going to let anyone get in your way.

you then read the letter in the envelope. you got a full ride scholarship off your inventions and recommendations alone. you felt like you could cry, and you did. happy tears streamed down your face. all this hard work? absolutely worth it, and you weren’t gonna slack off just because you got in.

further down the letter, it said they were going to be enforcing dorms earlier than usual. something about teaching future heroes about responsibility before becoming an adult, blah blah blah.. all you could think about was how you got in all by yourself, you won, and getting into UA will go amazing on your resumes and help you open your own support agency in the future.

this was your first step to your dream.

in the months before moving into the school, you obviously kept up your practice, but allowed yourself to relax a bit, you no longer had the anxiety and weight on your shoulders of trying to enroll, so instead of 5AM, you woke up at 7AM instead. you let yourself hang out with friends more, go out more, and spend some of that cash that had piled up through commissions and a job that you had taken up at a local coffee shop as a barista when you thought you had to pay for UA on your own. doing this, you learned about the world outside of your basement or the junkyard, and grew an appreciation for clothes and shopping.

the day to move in crept closer and closer, you started packing your clothes, using 2 suitcases. i mean you were gonna be there for a year, and obviously you were gonna visit home, but you didn’t wanna travel back and forth for clothes. you packed up everything you could, and used moving trucks to deliver furniture once the day did roll around.

walking up to the dorm building was scary. a chill ran down your spine as you stared at the huge building that was shaped like a U. it was smaller than the school, obviously, but still big. general, hero, support, and management students were all mixed into 2 buildings. the school didn’t want to separate students, it saved money and was under the guise that it’d help you make friends with whoever, despite was class you got into.

what they didn’t state was the hidden hierarchy inside the buildings. after a month, you soon learned that some hero students looked down at the rest, most general students looked down at support department students, and management was a weird mix of egotistical assholes and shy people who knew that they were in the ‘lowest’ class. lowest meaning easiest to get into, which wasn’t really true. you felt like you could’ve easily gotten into the general course, but whatever. you didn’t care about that.

back to the dorms, other people were passing you by when someone bumped into your shoulder. it was a tall guy, muscular, and weird blonde spiky hair.

“watch it, extra.” the stranger growled at you.

you were taken aback, annoyed at the audacity. “you bumped into me, weirdo.” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

you thought this was a well-mannered school, guess not. you brushed it off though, lugging your suitcases into the building. you were met with a big common area, there was even a small kitchen with a cafeteria. you smiled, it was modern, fancy, nothing like anything you’ve seen before.

you rolled into the elevator, going to the second highest level, where your dorm was.

you were nervous. still. you didn’t know who you would meet, if you would make friends, if people would like you.. but all you needed to focus on was unpacking.

ding.

the elevator doors opened, and you walked out, strolling down the long hallway until you got to the end. your room was at the very end, it had more open windows, letting a LOT of natural light in. you knew you had to get curtains though, since the windows were so big. you walked in and gasped. your very own living space. obviously you’d have to decorate and make it home, but all in due time.

you walked in, closing the door behind you, looking at your view. you could see the city from here, which wasn’t a huge drive, 10 minutes, 20 maybe if the traffic is bad, which it usually is.

on your other window was pure forest, you could see beautiful mountains. it was stunning, breath-taking view.

you put on some calm music and unpacked, humming to yourself and you hung your clothes, folded pants, ironed your uniforms, and placed your usual tools and books you brought in the shelves and drawers that the school had provided.

you were exhausted by the end of the day, you watched the sunset dip under the mountains and you closed the curtains you had installed earlier as you changed and got into bed and slept for a couple hours before waking up in the middle of the night.

thump. thump. thump.

were those.. drums? music? who the hell was playing such a loud instrument so late at night?

you needed your sleep. you could not be tired on your first day so you got up and out of your dorm, stepping down the hallway a bit. the noise was coming from your neighbor. seriously? am i gonna have to deal with this for 3 years? you thought as you knocked politely on their door.

no answer.

you knocked louder.

no answer, and you could hear their music getting louder, almost as if they were trying to tune out the knocking.

you started to bang on their door before you heard the music stop and angry stomps to the door before it swung open.

a handsome face met you, but it was tainted with a scowl, a disgusted and annoyed look.

wait a minute.. you recognized that ugly hair. it was the same dude that bumped into you earlier. a flicker of recognition flashed on your face before you furrowed your brows.

“the hell do you want?” he growled down at you.

“mind turning down your music? to 0, maybe?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at his audacity (again.).

“mind getting some earplugs, bitch?”

you gasped, shocked a bit.

“some people are trying to get their beauty sleep.”

“yeah, you look like you really need it.” he chuckled in your face, his eyes roaming your disheveled form.

you groaned, “if anyone needs it, it’s you.”

“yeah? well go fuck yourself.” he said before slamming the door in your face. you groaned harder, shuffling back to your room and slamming the door shut as well. you got into bed, trying to cover your ears with pillows to block out the obnoxious drums from next door.

you eventually willed yourself to go to sleep.

maybe tomorrow will be better?

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

“You Coming or What?”

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader Word Count: 815

You were halfway through folding laundry in your living room when three quick, aggressive knocks slammed into your front door like they were trying to pick a fight.

You blinked at it. “...What the hell?”

When you opened the door, Katsuki Bakugou stood there, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a second motorcycle helmet.

His usual scowl was in place, but his eyes—sharp and focused—were locked directly on you. His black riding jacket was already zipped up halfway, his ash-blonde hair slightly windblown.

“Get your shoes,” he said, holding out the spare helmet like it was obvious. “We’re goin’ for a ride.”

You stared at him.

Then down at the helmet.

Then back at him.

“You just show up at my place without a text or a call and demand I jump on a bike with you?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Didn’t think I needed to make a damn appointment.”

You folded your arms across your chest, trying not to let the way he looked in that jacket—or the way your name sounded in his voice—get to you. “What if I was busy?”

“You were folding socks. I saw through the window.”

“Excuse me for trying to have a productive Sunday.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t budge. Just held the helmet out again, this time with a little more emphasis.

“You said you liked bikes. Said you’d never been on one,” he muttered, eyes narrowing slightly. “So I’m fixing that. You coming or not?”

Your heart did a quiet somersault.

Bakugou wasn’t one for soft declarations or planned-out dates. When he did something, it was direct, no room for hesitation. So if he was standing here now, helmet in hand, it meant he’d been thinking about this. About you.

“...You brought a spare helmet,” you said softly, taking it from him.

“‘Course I did,” he grunted. “Ain’t gonna let you ride with me without it.”

You smiled a little. “Aw, you do care.”

He gave you a glare, but it didn’t quite land the way it used to. “Tch. Don’t start.”

Ten minutes later, you were holding onto Bakugou’s back, your arms wrapped tight around his torso as the bike rumbled beneath you.

You could feel the heat of him even through his jacket—solid, warm; the scent of his cologne and smoke lingering as he revved the engine and tore down the road.

City lights streaked past you like fireflies.

You’d never felt safer.

Bakugou didn’t say much during the ride. He didn’t need to. The way his gloved hand reached back once to squeeze your thigh—checking if you were okay, if you were still with him—spoke volumes.

He drove until the city faded behind you, until all that was left was the quiet stretch of coastal road and the sound of waves crashing nearby.

When he finally pulled off into a secluded overlook, the sky above was streaked with deep oranges and purples—sunset in full bloom.

You climbed off, pulling off your helmet with a breathless laugh. “That was—okay, yeah, that was amazing.”

“Told you.” He smirked, hanging his own helmet on the handlebar before turning to lean against the bike. “You gripped me like you were gonna fly off.”

“I thought I was!” you shot back playfully, walking toward him. “That thing moves like hell.”

He snorted. “You’ll get used to it.”

Silence settled between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The ocean breeze was soft, the light turning his hair gold at the edges. He was watching you carefully now—quiet, unreadable.

You nudged his side. “Why today, Bakugou?”

He looked away for a second, then shrugged, jaw tight. “Just felt like it.”

Your brow rose. “Right. And you just happened to bring a spare helmet you’ve probably had sitting around for a while?”

He gave you a dry look. “You gonna keep talkin’ or you gonna thank me properly?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Dumbass,” he muttered, voice dropping to something softer. “I wanted to spend time with you. Thought this was a good way to do it. You said you liked when I let you in on stuff I don't show everyone else.”

Something shifted in his expression then—open vulnerability trying hard to disguise itself as irritation.

Your heart twisted.

You stepped closer, until the toes of your shoes bumped his boots. “You don’t have to pretend you’re not being sweet.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t sweet. Just not a shitty boyfriend.”

You blinked again. “Wait… boyfriend?”

Bakugou froze.

Shit.

But before he could try to backtrack, you leaned in, arms looping around his neck. “Good. Because I didn’t wanna be the only one thinking that’s where we were heading.”

His red eyes widened just slightly, the lines of tension easing in his shoulders as he looked at you.

“...Yeah?” he asked.

You smiled. “Yeah.”

Then you kissed him.

And this time, he didn’t need to say anything at all.

__

thank you @invisiboom12 for the idea 😉

Masterlist

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

─ .✦ ˚˖🌷✧˚Windows Between Us

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader, pure fluff

Bakugo’s room smells like the aftermath of something electric — scorched dust, citrus shampoo, and the lingering tang of his sweat after training. Kirishima once said it smells like wanting to impress someone.

He nearly got launched for it.

The BakuSquad is sprawled like fallen warriors across his bedroom floor — half into a video game, half into arguments about snacks. Laughter bounces off the walls, messy and unfiltered, as summer leans in through the open windows like an eavesdropper.

And then —

a thunk.

A sharp, featherlight sound against glass.

Bakugo’s gaze flickers, not startled, just… expecting.

Because he knows that sound.

It’s not the wind. Not a bird. Not a glitch in the universe.

It’s you.

The girl next door. The girl in the window across from his. The girl who throws things when she can’t knock.

A little scrunched ball of notebook paper rolls down his windowsill like it’s shy. There’s another just outside the glass — a second one, crumpled with intent. You’ve clearly missed once already.

Katsuki crosses the room with slow, practiced boredom, but his ears are already warm.

He pushes open the window a little more, and there you are — half-hanging out of yours, elbow propped, face alight with mischief. Summer clings to you like perfume. There’s ink on your fingers. Your braid is unraveling.

“Oi, Bakugo,” you call, a grin curling at your lips, “next time catch it. I’m running outta paper.”

Behind him, a chip hits the floor. Mina stills mid-bite. Kaminari’s eyes widen like he’s watching a soap opera unfold live.

Bakugo doesn’t even glance back at them.

He leans an elbow on the sill, all loose limbs and lazy confidence, but his eyes — gods, his eyes are soft like smoke just before it sparks.

“What, throwing rocks wasn’t an option?”

You scoff. “Didn’t want you thinking it was an attack. I know how you get.”

“You could’ve texted.”

“You could’ve answered.”

There’s a beat — just the buzz of a streetlamp, the rustle of the curtains, and the faint sound of Kaminari whispering oh my god, oh my god behind him like a cursed chant.

You smile wider, resting your chin on your hand. “You ghostin’ me, or are you just playing hard to get?”

Bakugo’s gaze dips to your mouth. “Wouldn’t ghost you. You know that.”

You hum. “Then why’d you disappear after last night, huh? I thought we were bonding.”

He shrugs, but his voice lowers. “Didn’t wanna say something stupid in front of you.”

“Aw,” you coo, voice drenched in teasing affection. “What, like how pretty I looked under the streetlight?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, but the smirk’s already there. His hand tightens slightly around the windowsill. “You fishing for compliments now?”

“I’m fishing for attention,” you say, tilting your head. “And I caught you.”

And then, fate curses you with timing.

You lean forward just enough — and catch a glimpse in his mirror. A blur of crimson. A flash of pink. The unmistakable sound of Sero choking on his drink.

“Oh my god—” your whole body yanks back like the window frame bit you. “You have people over?!”

Bakugo doesn’t move. Just watches you vanish like mist into your curtains.

“You didn’t tell me you weren’t alone!” your voice shouts from somewhere behind your blinds.

“You didn’t ask,” he shoots back, smug.

Bakugo grins — a slow, lopsided, shit-eating thing that does things to your stomach.

“Didn’t think I’d flirt with you in front of witnesses?” he calls after you, still not glancing behind him.

You pop your head out again, mortified. “I—I would’ve worn lip balm or something!” and then you suddenly disappeared out of embarrassment.

He chuckles — low, deep, smug — and finally turns back to the chaos that is now his living room.

Mina has tears in her eyes. Kirishima is frozen in pure secondhand embarrassment. Sero’s already got a draft tweet written in his brain. Kaminari is vibrating.

“She’s adorable,” Mina whispers in awe.

“She’s doomed,” Kirishima mutters.

Bakugo pulls the crumpled paper from the sill and pockets it like it’s valuable.

Then, slowly, like a lion lounging in the ruins of his own chaos, he turns back toward the room. His face is unreadable. Except for that smile — that quiet, victorious, absolutely whipped curve of his mouth.

“She likes you,” Kaminari gasps.

“Damn right she does,” Bakugo replies, and plops back onto the beanbag like the whole world didn’t just catch him soft.

And no one says a word when he glances back at the window one last time, just to see if you'd peek again.

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

─ .✦˚˖🎀⋆The Soft Spot He Pretends He Doesn’t Have (Part 2)

Part 1

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader, pure fluff

The BakuSquad eventually forgets. Or at least, pretends to.

Kaminari starts shouting about the final boss he can’t beat, Mina launches into a story about her cousin’s chaotic wedding, and Kirishima gets Sero into a heated debate about the ethics of pineapple on pizza. The room grows loud again, messy and familiar, like static around the edges of a photograph.

But Bakugo stays where he is.

Pressed against your side, thigh to thigh, warm and still. His arm stretches along the back of the couch—not quite around you, not quite not. His fingers tap once against the cushion behind your shoulders. Just once.

You could lean back if you wanted. You could fall into that space he’s silently offering, and he wouldn’t stop you.

So you do.

And he exhales, soft through his nose. His arm drops—light, secure—and for a second, he forgets to act like he’s not content.

Eventually, the squad disperses. Off to raid the kitchen or head to the training room or argue over movie picks. No one says anything about how he follows you when you get up. No one says anything about how you don’t ask him to.

You end up outside.

The dorm rooftop is cool and empty, dusted in stars. The city hums below, distant and sleepy.

He doesn’t speak right away.

Just leans against the railing beside you, pinkie grazing yours. The silence between you isn’t heavy. It’s… peaceful. Like even the quiet feels safer when it’s him.

“I heard what they said,” he mutters eventually, eyes on the skyline.

You glance at him, lips twitching. “Which part?”

“The jacket. The orange.” A pause. “All of it.”

“And?”

He shrugs. “They’re not wrong.”

That stuns you into silence.

He finally turns toward you—shoulders squared, eyes sharp but soft in the way only you ever see. “I’m not good with words. But I’m not fuckin’ stupid either. I know I treat you different.”

“Katsuki—”

He takes your hand then. Not just a brush. A full hold. Fingers laced. Warm and steady.

“I don’t wanna yell at you,” he says. “Not ‘cause you can’t take it. But ‘cause you’re the only thing in my life that doesn’t feel like a fight.”

Your chest pulls tight.

He exhales, gaze dropping to your joined hands. “You’re the one thing I don’t wanna burn.”

You step closer. Close enough that his shoulder brushes your cheek. “You won’t.”

“You say that now,” he murmurs.

“And I’ll say it again tomorrow,” you whisper. “And the next day. However long it takes for you to believe it.”

His jaw works like he wants to argue—but then your fingers tighten around his, and whatever resistance he had crumbles.

He leans in. Not to kiss you. Not yet.

Just to rest his forehead against yours.

The wind moves gently between you. A breeze that smells like coming rain. His thumb brushes yours, slow. Careful.

“I like the quiet with you,” he says.

You smile.

“I like everything with you.”

And there, under a sky that never asks him to be softer, he lets himself be.

For you.

Always for you.

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

one night, battered and bruised and completely delirious. bakugou decides to skip caring for his wounds and crash on the couch, after slipping through his balcony door. unbeknownst to him, he had accidentally stumbled into your house.

walking into your apartment after a happy hour with your company to see a man passed out on the couch definitely warrants a scream from your throat. but you end up freezing in the entry way, hand hovering over the light switch as you try and make out who the hell was in your house right now.

you notice that the balcony door is open, so that must've been the intruders way in. was he awake and didn't hear you come in? you lived on the second to highest floor, so there's no way he was homeless. and from the shadow itself this man is huge, and the more you squint the more it seems like he's completely passed out. his entire body encompassed the couch, except for the one leg hanging off. you guess you can't even be mad about boot on your couch right now, you had bigger problems.

as your eyes trace down his body, trying to piece together who was sleeping on your couch, you see his gauntlets laying on the floor. that's when it clicks that this is no stranger, but none other than pro-hero dynamight. and he was soundly sleeping on your couch.

when that realisation comes into play, your body decides to relax. you don't hesitate to prod over to the couch and straight past him, to the balcony door. shutting it and locking it before spinning around. you don't know what compels you to leave him be, but disturbing him is the last thing you want to do. he looks peaceful, definitely deep in sleep because he hasn't even twitched from you moving around.

as you're about to throw a blanket over him, you pause at the cuts on his face, the dried and matted blood around his neck and the dark gash on his chest. scrunching your nose, you head to the kitchen to grab a warm wash cloth and the first aid kit. as you kneel on the floor by the couch, you pray silently that he doesn't wake up, freak out and blast you to kingdom come.

you hesitate as you go to wipe his face, but he doesn't even flinch. you wipe the mud, dirt and what you're assuming is ash off his face and neck, before wiping it over with alcohol so that the cuts don't get infected.

as you gently wipe over the cut on his chest, thanking all of divinity that it wasn't too deep and wouldn't require stitches. you place antiseptic wherever you could see, and placing the only type of bandaids you have -- strawberry shortcake ones -- over the cuts that were smaller. you then drape the blanket over his body, lifting the one leg that was hanging off the side and gently shoving a pillow under his head.

you ease his boots off, before you stare at the gauntlets on the floor, they were like gigantic bombs. and they were just casually laying on your living room floor. cool.

so you carefully, and i mean really fucking carefully lift them so that they were off to the side and he wouldn't trip over himself if he woke up in the middle of the night. and jesus christ what were those things made out of? they were heavy as fuck, you were impressed he carried them around all day.

but judging by the way he dwarfed your couch, not only in height but in width he had the strength and build to carry it.

the next morning you come down stairs and the man was in the same position as the night before, you snort before you write a note saying

hey big guy, think you stumbled into the wrong flat last night. there's coffee and food in the fridge, feel free to indulge. hope hotel y/n was to your liking, please leave a five star review at your convenience.

before heading out to work. you're a little sad that you won't get to interact with the big and burly man that found his way into your humble abode. but you snort at the fact that he managed to make that big of a mistake anyways. he’s definitely gonna be beating himself up for it.

little did you know that when you got back from work a small note with a certain pro-hero’s number was gonna be waiting for you.

food ain’t half bad, thanks for letting me crash and for cleaning up my shit. sorry for the mess, let me make it up to you? ## #### #### talk about what happened here and i’ll deny it till my last breath.

reblogs and likes are much appreciated!

© 2025 @charbakugou.

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

I've been an silent reader for a while and i love your writing btw, could i request a childhood female reader x bakugo where he has some weird obsession with her boobs but like in a non perverted way? Of course, only if you're comfortable!!!

10/10 request > ᵕ <

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

With you and Katsuki being friends for so long it was no surprise that he has seen more than he should. Or felt around (sounds so bad omg.) and it’s not even in a perverted way it’s just because you’re comfortable enough.

In middle school when you hit puberty it was like the reality of you being a girl hit him and he wasn’t sure how to feel. His best friend was a girl and she was getting boobs, they no longer could throw their shirts off and run around in the sprinklers or even chill out shirtless. It weirdly fascinated him how you had to wear bras and the fascination only grew with age.

The bigger your cup size got the bigger the the urge he had to look at them. he had to hold himself back numerous time from reaching a hand out to feel them, well until one day—

You both were home alone (risky) but his parents were fine with it from you guys being friends since preschool and they trusted the both of you enough not to do anything crazy while they were out. 

You had caught Bakugou staring more then once but it was different now that you both were in high school and both your hormones were on an all time high.

“You wanna feel them?” You turned your body towards his side of the couch after catching his frustrated eyes staring at your breasts as if he had a personal grudge against them.

“Huh?” He physically jumped at your offer, trying to make eye contact with you but the way you looked for his response made a deep blush paint across his cheeks. “I always see you staring, if you want to touch them just ask?” The way you slid it so casually by him made it feel like it wasn’t such a bad thing, like it was something normal.

He didn’t want to admit his interest in them, he didn’t want to scare you off by being a pervert either but most of all he didn’t want to say ‘yes’ for you to just laugh in his face.

“why would i want to do that.” He scoffed looking away, the blush still very present on his dusted cheeks.

Though you had other plans.

Creeping your way across the couch you grab his hand and guide it to your chest, it wasn’t a tight grip and it wasn’t forceful he could pull away if he wanted to; but he didn’t. You put his hand on your chest and almost on instinct he squeezed. It wasn’t hard or demanding, it was soft and cautious. unexperienced.

The blush that was once taking up rent on his face faded, his normally frustrated eyes dropped into more of a intrigued expression. The years of buildup and anticipation finally settled within him and he felt content.

“see, just had to ask—” You said returning his hands back to his sides, casually plopping yourself back in the spot you sat prior to the event. “next time don’t wait 3 years.” You jokingly scoffed at his dumbfounded look.

“Huh- WAIT YOU SAW?”

(sorry i did this so lazily ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡)



[sucuklu-katsudon476]

“Think fast I’m a random girl”

Summary: You try the “Think fast! I’m a random girl!” trend on your boyfriend Bakugo. When you kiss him, he kisses you back so well that he completely forgets what you said. Offended, you call him out, and he sheepishly admits the kiss was too good for him to hear anything. When you give him a second chance to redeem himself, he panics, throws pillows at you, and runs out of the room yelling “I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!!” — making it the most chaotic and adorable fail ever.

You had your camera rolling. You had the line memorized.

And you had one explosive, grumpy, beautiful boyfriend sitting on your bed, completely unaware of the chaos you were about to bring.

Bakugo Katsuki was leaning back against your pillows, hoodie sleeves pushed up, scrolling on his phone like he didn’t just kiss you breathless two hours ago and threaten to burn down the common room because Denki called him “soft.”

Perfect target.

You tiptoed up, phone in one hand, your best innocent girlfriend smile ready.

“Think fast! I’m a random girl!” you chirped—

And without waiting, you leaned down and kissed him.

Not a peck. A kiss. The kind that makes you forget where you are for a second.

His phone hit the blanket.

His hand caught your waist.

And he kissed you back without a second of hesitation, even tilting his head like this wasn’t some prank—it was the best part of his day.

You pulled away first, trying so hard not to laugh. You gasped dramatically, camera still rolling.

“Excuse me?! I said I was a random girl!”

Bakugo blinked at you, dazed. “…What?”

You crossed your arms. “I said ‘think fast, I’m a random girl.’ You were supposed to freak out or push me away! You kissed me like it was our wedding night.”

He stared at you, totally serious.

“…I didn’t hear what you said.”

You snorted. “What?!”

“I didn’t hear a damn word,” he repeated. “The kiss was too good. My brain shut off.”

You bit back a smile. “So you’re telling me you kissed a ‘random girl’ back just because it was good?!”

He gave you a half-smirk, totally unashamed. “Didn’t feel random. Felt like you.”

You shoved his shoulder playfully. “You failed the trend, babe.”

He sat up, already pleading with his eyes. “Wait—give me another shot. I swear I’ll get it right.”

You gave him a dramatic sigh and adjusted the camera. “Fine. Last chance. Ready?”

He nodded, serious as if this was a mission.

You raised your phone again, cleared your throat—

“Think fast! I’m a random gir—”

“NOPE—ABSOLUTELY NOT—GET AWAY FROM ME!!” Bakugo shrieked.

He yeeted three pillows at your face, grabbed another, tossed it behind him as a decoy, and sprinted across the room like the floor was lava.

“I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND—HER NAME IS Y/N—SHE’S GORGEOUS—GET OUTTA MY ROOM YOU DEMON!!”

You were wheezing. On the floor.

Camera shaking with laughter.

Your pillows everywhere.

“BAKUGO, IT’S ME—”

“I DON’T TRUST YOU,” he shouted from behind your door. “YOU TRICKED ME ONCE.”

You gasped, still laughing. “But the kiss—!”

“…Don’t bring that up,” he muttered. “I’m still recovering.”

And yeah—you definitely posted the video.

Caption: “He was NOT ready, the second time 😭😭😭 #thinkfasttrend #bakugo #caughtin4k”

Comments? Filled with people screaming over how hard he kissed you back… and how fast he ran.

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

katsuki gets hard when you take care of him 🗣️

he hates being sick; he hates being out of commission because he feels useless and therefore weirded out that you want to feed him soup when he's not even actively contributing to society.

(the first time he told you that, you gave him a look he's pretty sure was pity.)

when you sweep sweaty bangs off his forehead, he bites down on the inside of his cheek to bury the groan in his throat.

he doesn't know how to love like you do, with the kind of gentle affection apparent in every spoonful of soup you bring to his lips.

"you okay there, dynamight?" you glance pointedly at his lap, a playful glint in your eyes. "what's got you so distracted?"

well, fuck. he's so out of it he didn't even notice his dick swelling.

his ears burn. he has no idea how to voice that you mothering him is turning him on to the point of near insanity.

"it's nice," he says defensively, gesturing at you vaguely, but you don't miss a beat.

"i like taking care of you, kats." your hand settles on his chest, and you lean in close, a smile on your mouth that he wants to lick off. "i like that you let me."

your thumb sweeps back and forth on his sternum, a burning caress he feels at the base of his dick. he's a second away from grabbing your hand and thrusting it down his pants like a fumbling teenager, but you pull away, the smile on your mouth going coy.

"pretty sure my patient needs to rest up before he undergoes any rigorous activity."

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

Nami: Hey Sanji-kun..

Sanji: Hayyy Nami-swann😍

Nami: Did u see Zoro anywhere??

Sanji: Marimo? Nope, probably sleeping somewhere.

Meanwhile Zoro

Got lost in My Little Pony universe 😁

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

Katsuki Bakugo in My Little Pony universe? Why not😁

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

Trying a new style with a pop-up oc

i am so satisfied with hand😁💯

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

Argument

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

I tried a random My Little Pony oc challange first time in my life🥳 and i think i did a good job😁

Whatchu think??

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

can I still be a hero?

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

Lunch time visit 😌

[sucuklu-katsudon476]

i know theres several of these but wanted to make my own version lol. (this is so dumb)