Tumgik
#mha bakugou
yndrgrl · 3 days
Text
your boyfriend, katsuki bakugo, loves you dearly, but you're scared you'll never be deserving of him
cute lil dabble. lowkey songfic. fem! reader. angst to comfort. fluff. established relationship. any au. overthinking! reader.
warnings: there are none :D
a/n: picture a "too sweet" by hozier girl x "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys boy relationship !
-
katsuki is always characterized as hostile yet calculating, a man who knows exactly what he wants. he's destined to be the top of the food chain, everyone knows it. he's powerful man with a deadly gorgeous face, his fangirls would describe.
& in comes you. plain old you.
you honestly have no idea what katsuki sees in you. like, if you're digging deep in yourself, maybe he likes your for your dark, crude sense of humor that always seems to make him belly laugh.
it's said that he's an early bird. he's awake before you every single day, asleep & sound by 8:30-- on the weekends, he'll push it to 10:00. before you've said your first words of the day, he's already made his side of the bed, made & ate breakfast, put away the laundry, & is off to his morning run after his morning workout. his good habits he's developed early in life has benefited him in every way.
he never procrastinated on chores, his paper work is flawless, & you could learn a thing or two from his time management skills. he's always making time for spontaneous dates you wanna go on, festivals you wanna visit, & he makes sure that the pantry is stacked with your favorite snacks. any of your interests are his interests, even if he doesn't fully understand it.
when it comes to katsuki, you ought to wonder if he ever wants to experience something different from his strict, repetitive lifestyle. you sometimes feel stupid for wanting more out; you want to travel somewhere far away, you want to go out clubbing with a bunch of strangers, you want to move to the country side & live in a cottage. katsuki always reels in your dreams, encouraging you but also reminding you that you need to stay consistent to achieve them. you're jealous with how fast he can accept reality.
"babe? you listening?" katsuki questioned, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blinked a couple of times then nodded almost-too enthusiastically. he let out a little chuckle & stroked your cheek with his thumb. "what're you thinking about?"
"nothing, i'm sorry," you sighed with your hands in your lap. you both were on the couch, doing your own thing. he was on his phone, & you were supposed to be doing some work on your laptop, but you found yourself spacing out again.
"don't apologize. i'm just curious about what's going on in that pretty, little head of yours," he told you before he took your hand & pressed his lips against your knuckles. you thought to yourself, i'm not good enough for this man.
you debated whether or not to tell the truth. on one side, he has been your devoted boyfriend for years now, but on the other, he could just be asking out of curtesy. like, what if he actually does not care at all- "(y/n)? talk to me. i know you have something you wanna say," katsuki commented, scooting closer to you. he set the pillow that you placed your laptop on the coffee table so he could get your undivided attention. he caressed your thigh to help ground you.
you stayed silent for a moment, & he waited patiently. you swallowed, your eyes darted from his piercing red ones to the floor to his hands. finally, you said, "you're too sweet for me." he laughed & laughed, & you couldn't help but crack a smile. "what? what's so funny?" you pouted.
"sorry for laughing, princess. it's just no one ever calls me sweet. like, ever," admitted katsuki as he settled down from his fit of laughter. what he said was true though, he didn't have a problem with it. he was not sweet at all, he was rough around the edges & egotistical with the skills to back him up. he only ever thinks about himself & you. "but what makes you say that, hm?"
"well, for one, you always treat me out & take me anywhere i want. we never go where you wanna go," you pointed out, jabbing your finger in his toned chest playfully.
"that doesn't make me sweet. i have the money, & i don't fuckin' care about where we go to eat."
you chose to ignore him, rolling your eyes at him because that was his excuse every time. "two, you're literally in the prime of your life, & you choose to go to sleep at 8:30? how do you sleep so well?"
"(y/n), what is this really about?" he questioned. katsuki brushed your hair away from your face, tucking the silky strands behind your ear. "& don't lie to me, i know you."
"ugh, fineee," you groaned as you threw your head back. maybe it was for comedic effect, or to gather your thoughts & regulate the tears that started to well in your eyes. "do you think i'm like, worthy of you?"
"worthy of me?"
"yeah, do you think i'm good enough for you?" you rephrased, pulling your hands away from him to rub your upper arm. it's embarrassing to admit something, it's scary too. what if, once you point it out, he'll agree & leave you?
"'course i do! i'm the best around & i got the best fuckin' girl, why are you thinking this shit?" katsuki exclaimed, his passion that you wish you had seeping through to his tone. a moment of thick silence followed, you took a deep breath. you suck at emotions.
"you're too good for me, okay! you're so much stronger than everyone, & if that wasn't enough, you're insanely smart! i'm just... here. average at best. people praise you like the morning after an eternity of darkness. you're the rain after a heatwave. everything works out for you, & i'm just the one holding you back from even better things-"
"babe, you're not holding me back or whatever. you've never held me back," he stated like it was a fact, but you felt as though he was just saying that to calm you down. it angered you, & you were ashamed that you were angry because it wasn't even directed at him, it was directed at the fact you felt unworthy.
"no, you don't get it! i aim low because it's realistic for me, i can't afford to aim for anything else because i'm destined to fail. you, on the other hand... you have so much potential. don't you get embarrassed about having a girlfriend like me?"
"no." he answered so quickly, like it was rehearsed, like he knew what you were going to say. "i've never felt embarrassed of you ever. you're so fuckin' dense, you know that?"
you paused just to stare at him. katsuki sure had a way with comforting people. even after years of being a hero, he never learned how to traditionally comfort people. tough love, everyone would call it. but with you, he forced himself to be tender because you deserve treatment no one else gets from him.
there were so many things he wanted to say to you. don't you realize what you do for him? god, katsuki would go mad living without you now that he knows what life is like with you, his missing rib. the two of you are meant to be, you're two sides of the same coin. so what if he's as bright as the morning? you were his darling night, the very universe was visible through your eyes.
"you must be dense if you really thing you're just average. would i go for an average girl?"
"i mean-"
"no, the answer is no. you're deserving of love, my love. everything you've accomplished, everything you've overcome, you're just diminishing it because what? you think you're dumb or something? you- you..." you're the reason my world goes round, you are so talented, he was so desperate to shout these praises at you.
he was never one for romantic gestures through words. if he did, he would've been the best damn poet in the game. "i am yours."
it was such a simple sentence, yet it shook you to the core. you stared into his lively, crimson eyes. the look he gave you in return made your breath hitch; he was so deeply devoted to you, as deep as the pacific ocean.
you leaned in, capturing him in a kiss. tears rolled down your cheeks, your despair melting away. you felt like the two of you were kids again, sharing your first kiss. how could you doubt a man who so clearly, who so desperately, loves every bit of you.
704 notes · View notes
seumyo · 2 days
Text
BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 
“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 
You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 
The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?
Really?
He’s calling bull.
“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”
“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?
“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”
“We had a driver—“
“Fuckin’ course—“
“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”
“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”
You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”
He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.
“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.
“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”
“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”
You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.
“What’s this?” 
Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.
“An IC card,” he simply answers.
It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.
“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”
“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”
“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”
“Forget it.”
“Really, Bak—“
“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.
You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—
“What do I do now?”
You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.
“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.
“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”
You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”
Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 
He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.
Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.
“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 
“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.
He scoffs.
“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”
“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”
Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 
An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.
Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.
The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.
“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.
“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”
Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 
A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”
Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.
“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”
“Shut up, I’m not.”
“Jealous?”
“Hah? Why would I be—”
“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.
“Quiet, remember?”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.
He’ll leave it to you to confess.
Then again, you already knew.
Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
792 notes · View notes
starieq · 3 days
Text
since you guys really liked how I think Kats is a thigh biter, you might like this one…..
18+ hehe
katsuki thinks you look beautiful with and without makeup on. He definitely prefers you without since you have natural beauty. but when you guys are at it and sucking his cock, he’ll make you wear lipstick. He loves how the lipstick stays on his cock when you’re sucking. He likes how your lipstick rings around his cock
”yeah, good fuckin’ girl. Leavin yer lipstick rings ‘round my cock.”
185 notes · View notes
abilouwrites · 2 days
Text
OH MY GOD!
K. Bakugo
Bcz @cashmoneyyysstuff did it again!!
And I didn’t wanna do my history essay
Tumblr media
I’ve never claimed I was a morning person, I hate mornings. I like them more because I don’t have to wake up super early to get to school. I’m very happily situated in the dormitory system. Getting past my boyfriend is a different story. All sleepy eyed and tired as he sets his arm around my hip and scoots me towards him.
“‘G’mornin” he says gruffly as I stir sugar into my coffee, sleepily yawning into the palm of my hand and rubbing the bags under my eyes, “you drink your coffee so sweet”
“Mmh, it’s good that way” I whisper against the quiet of the morning. I’m only a morning person for these domestic moments. When he isn’t shouting at Todoroki, or throwing a book at Denki. I love the moments which his arms are around me and his head is against my shoulder.
“Yeah, but it’s gross. You’re gonna get cavities” he murmurs into the nape of my neck, pressing soft kisses against my skin. Drinking in the smell of my shampoo.
“I’ll get cavities because I eat a diabetic amount of candy” I respond leaning against him, sipping my coffee, “momo enables me”
His hands stop moving around and twisting my shirt, but they steady across my stomach interlocking between eachother, “it’s creepy that you eat the candy she like makes”
“No. It’s absolutely normal. And before you say I’m abusing her power. I’ve already gotten that from Iida” I hear him sigh and feel him straighten up as footsteps and soft noises are heard from the elevators. He drops his grasp on me and we stand next to each other, his arm flushed against mine.
“It’s still weird” he grumbles, rolling his eyes as I sip my now cold coffee, “you want me to heat it up?” He offers, I shake my head and rid my face of my disgusted expression.
“Last time you did that. It didn’t end well” I mumble as he presses his lips against my cheek.
“Gross! It’s so early why are you making out!” I hear Denkis exasperated sigh from the shared table
“You wanna see Makin out?!” Katsuki sharpens his tone, directed at our classmates, his hand grabs into my waist and I push off him.
“I’m not gonna make out with you. It’s so early in the morning” I groan against Katsukis lips, slowly pushing him away.
“It’s bad that this is the like.. tenth time I’ve seen you two kissing” Kirishima groans, rubbing his eyes with his the heel of his palm.
Katsuki groans even louder and I take my coffee he was holding, “oh it’s warm now” I notice sipping on the hot coffee once again.
118 notes · View notes
komy-0o · 18 hours
Text
Tumblr media
“When you accept your feelings”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KACCHAN BAKUGO 💥✨¡¡
119 notes · View notes
queenpiranhadon · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
ᴅᴀʏ ꜱɪx: April 19th
Syn: You make the cake and decorate for the party.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
A/N: I'm actually really happy about how this event turned out- all the fics written in this collaboration can be read separately, but it's recommended you read them all in order :) The master list is here, go check out the other writers because they're so amazing and talented AUGH.
Warning(s): Cursing (it's Katsuki what are you gonna do), bad baking terminology, maybe ooc idk, reader is referred to as female like once- Kiri calls her ma'am, reader compliments Katsuki's ass lmao, just fluffy in general though, class 3-A, reader is in the hero course.
Tumblr media
This was it. Tomorrow, your plan would finally be put in motion.  
It was the 19th of April, and to say the very least, you were stressed.  
Stressed might not be the word for it. More like anxiety, excitement and fear into one overwhelming emotion that you couldn't convey into words. Tomorrow was Katsuki’s 18th birthday. And everything had to be perfect.  
You sat in your dorm room, thumbing the pages of the cookbook you so loving made him, picturing his own rough hands touching the book the same way when you gave it to him. Your heart warmed at the thought- your boyfriend never ceased to give you butterflies, even without intending to.  
Doubt plagued your mind however- what if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too dumb, or too simple- should you have done more?!  
No, you scold yourself. You needed to trust yourself. You knew Katsuki well- he excelled in the extravagant, but he still found joy in the smaller things.  
Still... you couldn’t help but worry. This would be a big day for him-a huge milestone. You didn’t want to mess it up.  
Setting the cookbook down, you finally place it into the bag you had for him, jet black with orange stuffing. The small action put the whole situation into perspective for you.  
This was finally happening. 
But you still had work to do today. Pulling out your phone, you open the messaging app, and click on the contact you needed.  
You: Mission Keep Katsuki Away is a go >:) 
Kiri🥊: Yes ma’am >:)) 
Turning off your phone, you pocket it, and leave your dorm room. All that was left to do was the cake.  
After slaving through the school day, you all return to your dorms, with the exception of Kirishima and Katsuki, the former dragging the latter away for something he called “a bro date”. You chuckled at his excuse, and left them to their own devices as you returned to Heights Alliance, sending a text to Kirishima as you walked.  
You: Hey! What’s your status? 
Kiri 🥊: Just got to the bus! I’ll keep him busy as long as I can 
You: Perfect!! 
You: Thank you so much again 
Kiri 🥊: No problem! He’s going to love it, you put so much work into making this special for him :D 
You: Aww...thanks Kiri! Fingers crossed 😭 
You weren’t terrible at baking per se, but you weren’t no Sato. And you would ask him to make the cake himself, but you didn’t want to ask too much of anyone.  
So it was up to you. You wanted to make a small two-tiered cake, it would be enough to feed all of 3-A and hopefully there would be leftovers.  
Sifting through the pantry you found what you needed one by one. Cocoa powder, dark cocoa powder, eggs, milk, butter, flour, baking soda, the list went on. You were making a chocolate cake, covered in dark chocolate ganache, drizzled with caramel. Katsuki wasn’t a big fan of sweets, and you knew that, but cake was cake. You also knew that he secretly did have a sweet tooth so he wouldn’t be too upset. Hopefully the bitterness of the dark chocolate would make the rest of the cake a little less sweet to align with the explosive blond’s tastes.  
Grabbing three large bowls and the mixer Sato let you borrow, you get to work, mixing wet and dry ingredients separately, cracking eggs, melting chocolate, and whisking like your life depended on it.  
While you baked, you popped in an earbud, sweet music, lifting your mood and dancing around the kitchen, in your own world.  
And hour later, the two tiers of the cake were in the oven, (not before tasting the batter yourself of course) and you look around at the kitchen, the adrenaline rushing out of you. It was a mess. The was flour in your hair, on your face, and you’re pretty sure the cocoa powder on your shirt is going to stain.  
You sigh, taking off your earbuds and pausing the music from your phone. At least the cake was done.  
Grabbing the cleaning supplies from the closet, you get to work, making sure the kitchen was spotless so no one (namely Katsuki, for obviously reasons, and Ochaco and the self-proclaimed Bakusquad because they would beg you to have a taste of their own) would know what you were up to.  
The cakes were done by the time you finished, taking them out of the oven and sealing the two layers together with some ganache.  
You had asked Mr. Aizawa to reserve Gym Gamma for you previously, getting his permission to decorate the space for the party, and so you made your way there now, deciding to decorate the cake in the Gym itself so you wouldn’t have to move it afterwards.  
You got Ochako to float the cake and the toppings for it to the gym itself, so in the meantime, you busied yourself with setting up all the food- something you didn’t want to do yesterday as it would’ve gone stale.
You recruited the help of Kaminari, Sero, Mina and Kyoka to help you carry everything- including the mini fridge you saved up to buy to store the food and drinks overnight. You’d take them out the next morning.
When you got there, you were surprised to see Midoriya, Todoroki, Tsu, Iida, and Momo there alongside Ochako who explained they all wanted to help. 
You feel your smile stretch across your face, happy to see so many people who wanted to give Katsuki the best birthday ever.  
Splitting up the work, Midoriya, Todoroki and Iida went to go find the plates, cups, bowls, and cutlery you bought with Mitsuki - something you thought may have been overkill, but she had planned everything down to a T.
The others flitted around, either helping to put food or drink items into the fridge, or checking to make sure nothing happened to the decorations overnight.
You took to decorating the cake. Pouring the ganache over the first tier, you used it as an adhesive of sorts and you lifted the second layer on top of it. Once you did that, you poured the remaining ganache over the entire cake, evenly, so it created a pretty coat on top that you were sure it would add a nice crunch to the cake itself.
You groaned, stabbing your spatula into the quickly hardening ganache, having to ask Todoroki to heat it up every few minutes so that it wouldn’t harden completely- an annoyingly tedious task, but you knew Katsuki hated the taste of frosting- so hopefully he would appreciate the favor.
You waited for it to harden, then adding drizzles of caramel everywhere, and strategically placing strawberries where you could for a refreshing change in flavor.
And then lastly, adding thin golden candles to the cake, ten on the bottom row, and seven on the top. Momo created a special candle shaped like one of his gauntlets that you put in the center of the circle of seven candles on the top. And finally, you were done.
Momo made another contraption for you, a tall glass dome with temperature settings that you would put on the cake to prevent the strawberry from going bad overnight. After setting the cake on its stand, you put the dome over it, thanking Momo for her help.
It was then when you received two texts.
You open the first one, snorting when you read what it has to say.  
Katsu 💥🧡: Oi, I know you’re up to something- Shitty Hair just dragged me to the damn movie theater to watch some stupid Crimson Riot movie. 
You: Aww it couldn’t have been that bad!! 
You: Can’t the all mighty Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight survive a short movie date? 
You: Plus I told you- I'm not up to anything lmao 
Katsu 💥🧡: I call bullshit 
Katsu 💥🧡: Plus that movie was three damn hours- short my ass 
You: To be fair, you do have a nice ass 
You: I KID I KID  
You: But I promise you’ll get extra cuddles when you get back my big baby 
Katsu 💥🧡: Fuck off 
Katsu 💥🧡: Meet me at my dorm after dinner
Katsu 💥🧡: And don’t think I’m letting at comment about my ass go 
You can’t stop the amused smile from spreading across your face as you check the other text message, one from Kirishima this time.  
Kiri 🥊: Hey! We’re about 15 minutes away- we'll be back around 18:32 PM 
You: Kiri jesus christ- you tell me this now?! 
Kiri: Sorry!! 
You put your phone down, yelling at everyone to finish up and get back to the dorms as soon as possible, people scrambling around to put the finishing touches together before bolting out of the gym, you along with them.  
Thankfully, you all made it back in time, flopping down on the couches just at the door opens to reveal a beaming Kirishima and a grumpy Katsuki.  
The latter raises an eyebrow at all of you, sending a narrow-eyed glare at you. 
“Why’re ya so outta breath?” He grunts suspiciously and you chuckle sheepishly in return.  
“Mina challenged Kaminari and Sero to go a piggyback race against Todoroki and Iida.” You laugh, the lie rolling off your tongue as the others nod in agreement. 
“We totally won.” Sero says smugly, and Todoroki sends him a confused look.  
“But-”  
Kaminari cuts him off, slinging his arm around the heterochromatic eyed boy nonchalantly. “It’s not winning if you use your quirk Todo-bro.” 
Katsuki rolls his eyes, all interest in the conversation out the window, as he starts making dinner for everyone, something he started doing a while ago when he lost faith in 3-A's ability to not burn the kitchen down.  
After you all settled down and ate, you and Katsuki returned to his room, making yourself comfortable in his bed as he joins you, pulling you close and letting his sore muscles melt into your embrace.  
You, however, couldn’t force yourself to relax, your body buzzing with excitement as tomorrow would arrive.  
Tumblr media
Taglist ~
@gina239 @azzo0 @slayfics @zanarkandskylines @cashmoneyyysstuff
@xbabyd0lli3x @lowkeyremi @starieq @angels-fantasy
@ah-mya @food8me @katsuisbaby @meowze4r @bigsimpo343
@seonne @wheezdostuff @berryvioo @icedemon1314 @mystic60
@kit-katsukii @stoned-anime-babe @kukikoooo
@le000xxgrd @tr-mha-fan
131 notes · View notes
piinkmha · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
117 notes · View notes
keitoart · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
It's been a while since I've been here, but that's because I've had a lot of work to do, I can only show you the commissions so far😫🤲
64 notes · View notes
heli-writes · 14 hours
Text
A dragon's heart, part 11.
Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader
Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.
Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of rape and abuse, mentions of breeding, mentions of death
[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]
Note: Things are about to take a turn, can you guess what's next?
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11
Series Masterlist
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
„Well... that sure was... something.“, Mitsuki says while staring after y/n.
„Tsk, I've told you she's got fire.“, Katsuki tells her smugly.
Part of him understands y/n's anger. Hell, he's angry with his mother too. He can't imagine what it must be like for y/n when people talk over your head. Katsuki knows that y/n isn't stupid. He's sure she figured out that this argument was about her. It's not like his mother tries to hide her disgust about y/n.
Suddenly, the entrance to the tent shifts and Katsuki half-expects y/n to enter the tent again. However, it's Kirishima who pokes his head into the tent. The red-haired man seems to shrink a bit when he spots Mitsuki.
„Uhm, hey chief, hate to interrupt but our scouts have returned from the kingdom. You might want to hear what they have to report.“, Kirishima informs Katsuki.
Katsuki gives him a firm nod and follows him outside. His mother is close behind him. Together they walk to the war tent. It's where the maps are and where the tribe plans its raids and strategic maneuvers. On their way there, they come face to face with multiple injured men. They're taken to the healers. Many of them are unconscious or clutching very bloody wounds.
„What happened?“, Katsuki wants to know but Kirishima only shrugs.
„Don't know any specifics only that the mission must've gone wrong.“, the man tells his leader. Katsuki scoffs. While his men often got injured due to their reckless fighting style, the sight is worrying.
Upon entering the tent, the men inside stiffen and give Katsuki and Mitsuki a sign of respect. Nobody dares to say a word.
„So?“, Katsuki barks, „What happened? Why are my men bleeding to death out there?“
A man in dirty armor stands up. He's not looking too good, actually. Katsuki guesses he's been with the scouts.
„We've been scouting out an area East of the mountains. It was a bit more inland, deeper into Todoroki's territory than usual. It's a rural area far off from any havens or big rivers so we didn't expect to run into any trouble. We were looking for small settlements that we could attack in the next few months.“, the man explained.
„And let me guess, you did run into trouble?“, Katsuki follows up and the man nods.
„Yes, we've just scouted out the area and landed to discuss which settlements would be the best to attack during our next flight when we were ambushed by Todoroki's soldiers. In all honesty, we didn't see them coming. They were hidden from the sight above and even upon landing, our dragons weren't alarmed.“, the man continues.
Katsuki furrows his eyebrows. Their dragons usually can smell prey from miles away. It's strange that none of them sensed the enemy. Moreover, it's quite the same as when y/n and him were ambushed by those bandits. Is this a coincidence? Or is there a connection between the two incidents?
„And then what? Don't tell me our mighty dragon warriors lost to a few mere human soldiers?“, his mother interrupts his trail of thoughts. The scout suddenly looks really pale.
„Well, there were just too many of them. We have no idea where they suddenly came from. We tried to fight them, but it got clear pretty quickly that they overpowered us in numbers. That's why we retreated.“, the man explains in a squeaky voice.
„Retreated? Since when do we retreat? We fight till death! We are warriors!“, his mother's voice booms to through the tent. All men looked at their feet not daring to meet their former chief's eyes.
„We've lost enough people the last few years. We can't afford to lose further tribe members by being reckless. You made the right call.“, Katsuki tells the men and indirectly puts his mother into her place. His mother scoffs and mutters something about cowards under her breath.
„So, how did the king know we'd send scouts to this place? Do we have a traitor among us?“, Kirishima changes the topic.
„The question is did he know or is he simply strengthening his forces?“, another man chirps in.
Katsuki isn't sure about that. They already noticed that there is a stronger military presence throughout the kingdom. He's sure that his tribe's attacks play a significant role in that. In the past few years they've raided more paces than they usually would. They've grown bolder, more desperate, and moved further inward. It might be that the king mistakes their raids for attempts to see how far they can get, to see if they can weaken the kingdom and overtake parts of their territory. Maybe the king doesn't see that these riots are due to the weakened state of the tribe, to ensure their survival.
Or maybe the king senses an opportunity to end the Dragonblood tribe once and for all. Strategically speaking, it wouldn't be a bad idea. The tribe lost strength and if there would be a fitting time to get rid of them once and for all, it would be now. Katsuki did his best to keep the plague a secret and make the tribe look strong on the outside. However, somehow some information must slipped through the cracks. It might be due to outside contacts like Deku or Uraraka. Katsuki refuses to believe there might be a traitor among them. The last thing they need is a riot.
Katsuki's quiet while his men start yelling and fighting in front of him. His mother nudges him. Waking out of his trance, he notices how his men are almost about to start a fistfight.
„Silence!“, he yells and his men freeze before letting go of each other and straightening their posture. 
„How many did we lose?“, Katsuki asks calmly.
„About 13 and counting. We don't know how many make it through the night.“, the scout tells him.
An eery silence befalls the tent. It's too many lives lost. Not even four children have been born this year to replace them. Plus, these children were born weakly and maybe won't live until adulthood. If this rate continues, the tribe will be gone before the end of the next decade.
„We need to bring in more women.“, Denki says into the silence. 
„Why that? These women only give us weak children! If any at that!“, another warrior comments. Some murmur in agreement. Kirishima looks conflicted and is very careful when he starts speaking.
„Maybe we should consider hiring men from other tribes. If they and their families settle with us, it will improve our situation from a strategic point of view.“, Krishima carefully proposes.
Immediately, men start speaking over each other.
„Bring in outsiders? No way, we can't trust them!“
„These outsiders can't compete with our strength!“
„They will piss themselves just at the sight of our dragons.“
„Silence!“, Katsuki yells once again. The volume comes down again and everybody looks at their leader expectantly.
„We're of dragon blood.“, Katsuki declares, „It's already humiliating that we have to mix our blood with those of commoners. At least that offspring will have some of our ancestors' strength in them.“
„Then what do we do?“, another man asks. Katsuki staightens his posture and lets his eyes wander through the tent.
„We lay low for a while. Scouts will fly in smaller groups. We stay on the outskirts of the Todoroki kingdom. Also, we should scout other kingdoms as well, such as the Yaoyorozu kingdom.“, he declares.
„What about raids?“, a man asks.
„We only hold small raids. Our focus will be bringing in as many females as we can. Leave gold and treasures behind. We only focus on the resources we really need.“, he tells them.
A murmur goes through his men. They don't like holding back. Katsuki understands them. There's no feeling more empowering than letting fire rain on an enemy and taking their treasures. But for now, they will have to focus on more important things.
„Kirishima, send a small scouting party to the Yaoyorozu kingdom. And get me that damn Deku here, goddamnit!“, he orders and pushes himself off the table he was leaning on.
„Now, get the hell out of here!“, he yells at his men. His men rumble and reluctantly leave the tent. Kirishima gives him a worried glance before leaving his friend and his mother alone. When they're alone, Katsuki turns to his mother.
„Do you understand now, Mother? Why I can't wait until one of our own is of age?“, he tells her.
Mitsuki stays silent in response.
~*~*~*~
Y/n's a shadow. She slips in between the tents trying to stay out of sight. Somehow it feels forbidden to seek out another woman. Luckily for her, the warriors of this tribe seem to hold a conference. It makes it easier for her to find her way back to Nadia and it also means that Nadia's husband won't be looming over her and they might just have a minute to talk.
When y/n found her way to Nadia's tent, she stands in front of it inconclusively. She's not sure how to make herself noticeable. It's not like they have a doorbell. Y/n takes a deep breath and decides to carefully enter the place. She pushes the fabric at the entrance away and pokes her head into the tent.
„Nadia?“, she softly calls out to the other woman when she can't see the other woman in the darkness of the tent.
Suddenly, there's rustling and the shuffling of feet. Nadia's face appears in front of y/n and she immediately grabs y/n's arm pulling her into the tent.
„What are you doing? Are you crazy? You can't just walk around in the middle of the day!“, Nadia whispers. Y/n gives her a bewildered look.
„What do you mean? Are you forbidden to go outside?“, she asks the pale woman.
„Aren't you?“, Nadia asks back carefully. 
Y/n thinks about this for a moment. Actually, she's not sure. It's not like she could understand Katsuki even if he told her about a rule like that. Then again Katsuki didn't seem too pissed when he saw her walking around earlier. He didn't even chase after her when she left his tent. Y/n shrugs.
„I don't know.“, she answers the other woman truthfully.
Nadia shakes her head in disbelief.
„You need to be more careful.“, Nadia tells y/n. Y/n furrows her brows.
„Why? What are you afraid of? Does your husband really forbid you to go outside?“, y/n rambles desperate to get some information out of Nadia.
Nadia looks into y/n's eyes for a few seconds silently before stating: „You really don't know anything, do you?“
It sounds accusing as if it's somehow y/n's fault that nobody tells her anything. At least not in a language she doesn't understand. Also, she doesn't think that Katsuki is the explaining type of guy.
„No.“, she tells Nadia calmly, „That's why I'm here. I don't understand what is happening. Please tell me everything you know.“
Nadia sighs deeply and then waves for y/n to sit down at a chair. She makes some tea before joining y/n. The women stay silent for another moment. Y/n is itching to pressure Nadia further. Before y/n can open her mouth, however, Nadia carefully asks:
„Do you know why they've brought you here?“
Y/n looks into her tea cup. It's a difficult question. She assumes that Katsuki brought her here because he liked her. A dreadful feeling starts to form in her stomach. What if that's not all? What if Katsuki has further plans for her?
Nadia takes y/n's silence as the answer.
„They brought you here for breeding.“, Nadia tells her without any emotions in her voice.
„E-excuse me?“, y/n asks taken aback. It's a word she has heard farmers use for cattle but never in the context of human beings.
„Have you seen any women around here? Probably not. It's because they're all dead. They bring us here so that we bear their children.“, Nadia explains.
Y/n stares at the woman. She puts down her tea cup. That... can't be right. No, Katsuki wouldn't do that. Of course, there was some tension between them and she's sure that if she'd let him, Katsuki would fuck the living daylight out of her but... not because of that. Because of... what actually? Love? Y/n almost has to laugh at that ridiculous thought. They've known each other for a couple of days. She's sure Katsuki is fond of her, but it's not love. Yet, a hopeful little voice says in the back of her head. Y/n shakes her head to get the thought out of her head.
„That's ridiculous.“, she tells Nadia. The woman leans back in her seat.
„A normal person might think like that. But these aren't normal people. They're monsters, barbarians who don't care about anything but themselves.“, Nadia answers. She sounds bitter.
„I'm sure Katsuki doesn't think that way“, y/n thinks out loud. Nadia's head whips upward.
„Katsuki? As in Katsuki Bakugou? Don't tell me you'll be married off to him!“, Nadia says in horror.
„I'm not sure about the marrying off part...“, y/n trails off.
„Did he put you into fancy clothes and paint and showed you off?“, Nadia asks. Y/n nods silently.
„Then he takes you. For himself or for one of his men, I don't know. Not that it would matter anyway. They're all the same.“, Nadia states.
Y/n crooks her head.
„Tell me Nadia, what did these people do to you that you think so lowly of them? So far, Katsuki wasn't cruel to me.“, y/n asks carefully. Nadia swallows hard.
„They attacked our village. When they've slaughtered most of the men, they rounded the women up. Some of us were chosen and taken to their camp. The others... I don't know raped or killed or both.“, Nadia says in a shakey voice. Clearly, the memory is hard for her.
„You've been taken here against your will?“, y/n asks even though she should be able to guess the answer.
„You weren't?“, Nadia asks again in disbelief. Y/n shrinks under her gaze. She feels as if she should feel ashamed for going with Katsuki.
„I didn't have much of a choice.“, she decides to reply. Nadia starts looking at her hands.
„Neither did we.“, she continues, „We've been brought back here. The men who chose us presented us to the chief who... I don't know, gave them his blessing or something like that. And then...“
Nadia doesn't finish the sentence. It sounds as if she's choking. Y/n doesn't see any tears glimmering in the dusk of the tent.
„Then what?“, y/n whispers breathlessly. She wants to know, even if it's horrible
„Then, the man who chose me took me back here. Violated and abused me right there on this bed.“, Nadia whispers back and points to the bed on the other side of the tent.
„Ever since then, I'm forced to live here as his wife or something. He continues to hurt me, to... He's not a kind man. I'm scared of him. Of him, of this place, of everything.“, Nadia whispers. 
Now, y/n sees the shimmer of tears on the other woman's face. She's at a loss for words. What can you say to a woman who is a victim to such terrible crimes? Y/n just bows her head and stares onto her own hands.
She's been blind. Blinded by Katsuki. By his strength that saved her. By the security his presence promises. She's heard the stories of the Dragonblood tribe. Was she really stupid enough to believe that they were all lies? She's seen what Katsuki can do to a few grown-ass men. Murder, abduction, and rape are all she connected to this tribe for years. After a few days with Katsuki and y/n lost all common sense. Mostly, she feels ashamed for not questioning this whole thing further. What kind of person just rides off with a strange man and his firebreathing beast? A stupid one.
„I'm really sorry.“, y/n whispers and takes Nadia's hand. Nadia grips her hand tight.
„Don't be. It's better you're prepared for what happens next.“, Nadia tells her.
Y/n doesn't have the courage to tell her that Katsuki isn't like that. Then again, could she say these words with confidence? She starts to realize that she doesn't know Katsuki at all. Maybe he is that kind of person. He seems to allow his men to commit these acts. So he either approves or doesn't care. Either way, it's bad.
„How many others are there? Women they've brought in?“, y/n asks Nadia. Nadia shrugs.
„I barely leave this tent. I'm too afraid and it's too cold out there anyway. The others probably feel the same, so there is no real way of knowing.“, Nadia tells her.
„You can't just rott here!“, y/n exclaims, „We should contact the other women. It's best if we stick together.“
Nadia looks up at her with tired eyes. Her posture is slumped. Y/n thinks that she looks a hundred years old right now even though she's not much older than y/n herself.
„Y/n...“, Nadia starts, „I can't. I'm too afraid and too tired. You don't know what it's like to do this day in and day out. Never knowing in what kind of mood he comes home.“
Nadia looks exhausted. As if she's already given up on everything and anything.
„Nadia, I'm sure we can do something!“, y/n tries to motivate her. 
The pale woman doesn't answer her. She just stares into her tea cup. Everything about her looks dull, y/n thinks.
Suddenly, there's clamoring outside. Voices of men and clashing of metal can be heard. Nadia bolts up.
„You need to go. You can't be here when he comes back!“, Nadia panics and grips y/n's arm. She pulls y/n onto her feet and starts pushing her out of the tent.
„Wait, there's still so much...!“, y/n starts and is interrupted by a sharp hiss by Nadia.
„You need to leave. Now. Or we're both not safe. Don't come looking me for a while. It's too dangerous. I'll find you soon“, Nadia spits out and pushes y/n completely out of the tent.
Y/n stares at the fabric in front of her. The last part sounded like a lie. She's sure Nadia won't try to find her and start something. She's too much in survival mode.
~*~*~*~
It's already dusk when y/n is pushed out of Nadia's tent. Men light torches next to their tents and along the paths around the settlement. Keeping Nadia's words in mind, she tries to avoid the men. Most of them, however, don't pay attention to her or only give her curious looks. No one yells at her or tries to drag her back to Katsuki's tent. It makes her wonder how seriously Nadia's explanations should be taken.
Y/n wanders aimlessly around until the sun has set completely and only the torches illuminate the settlement. Men retreat to their tents and the smell of food lingers in the air. Just then, y/n notices how hungry she is. She only had a small breakfast before the presentation. She was too nervous to get much down. Nevertheless, she doesn't want to return to Katsuki. At least not yet.
Her head is pulsing with information she can't really process. She hoped that visiting Nadia could help her navigate this place somehow, to better understand Katsuki and the others. However, Nadia confused her more than it helped. Her own perception of Katsuki and the tribe is so different than Nadia's. 
Y/n considers trying to find other women. There must be others that speak her language. Nadia said that multiple women from her village were taken. But since most men returned to their homes, y/n doesn't dare to just open a random tent and peek into it. She promises herself to look into it tomorrow.
When her hands and feet grow too cold, y/n decides she must go inside soon. Somehow she's not ready to find Katsuki yet. Sleeping a night separate from him would be best. Close proximity to Katsuki makes her mind and emotions unpredictable. She needs to clear her head and find a focus.
Unfortunately, she doesn't know any place to go. She considers looking for the tall red-haired man but then again it's likely he settled down for the night as well. And there's no way of telling what his tent is. 
So, the only place she does know is the great red's den. Y/n shudders at the thought of having to cross paths with all the other dragons in order to get there. Y/n figures that if they didn't attack her earlier, they probably won't attack her now. She's probably just a fly to them.
The path to the dragons' living space is not as lit as the rest of the settlement. Y/n steals one of the last torches at the outskirts of the settlement. The path is uneven and y/n stumbles over her feet a couple of times. The darkness doesn't bother her. Her people often camped in forests or mountainsides. She's used to hearing strange noises at night or walking in the darkness of the night in order to pee. When she's at the gore's entrance, she halts for a moment. In contrast to earlier, the place lies in absolute silence. Maybe all the dragons are asleep?, she thinks before taking a deep breath and entering the dragon-occupied territory. 
Luckily, she remembers the path to the great red's den well so she walks at a fast but quiet pace. She keeps her eyes low, focused on the path. It's best not to make any eye contact with a dragon. Especially not one of the scary black ones. Her eyes flicker up when she's close to the den. Y/n lets out a shaky breath in relief. She made it!
Suddenly, a hot stenchy breath hits her shoulders and face. Y/n freezes in her step. Don't look, don't look, she tells herself. Another hot steam hits her face. It's hotter than before and closer. The dragon must be right beside her. How did she not notice a giant lizard crawling up on her. 
Y/n hears the giant creature shuffle closer. Go away, go away, she prays in her mind. A huge, scaley snout shoves her shoulder. The pressure pushes her over and y/n lets out a loud yelp before dropping to the side and letting go of her torch. Instinctively, she tries to shuffle away from the creature that now completely comes into view. It's a green one. Y/n is sure that the beast must have a bilious green shade in broad daylight. A color as poisonous and deathly as the breath y/n is forced to smell. 
The dragon is smaller than the black ones, maybe even than the blue ones. In contrast to those and the great red, it has no horns at the side of its head but a row of sharp spikes from the middle of its head all the way over its spine to its tail that is crowned with two longer, crescent-shaped spikes. Cunning red eyes watch y/n's every move. If y/n wasn't panicking, she probably would've thought that they looked similar to Katsuki's eyes. The pupils of the dragon are formed into fine slits and y/n is sure it is focusing on its prey right now. The prey being her of course. 
The creature snarls at y/n and snaps at her. It's enough to make y/n yell out in fear. However, it's clear that the dragon did not intend to truly catch her in between those sharp teeth of its mouth. It's playing with me, y/n thinks. But not in the cute way that the small ones did earlier. More like a cat playing with a mouse. Making it dance and bleed before snapping it in two. It's cruel and befitting for a dragon, y/n thinks. 
It kind of makes her angry, too. Clearly, this is an intelligent creature. It makes her sick to the stomach thinking about that this is how she's supposed to die. I can't fight it, y/n figures. And I shouldn't provoke it either. My only chance is to make a break for the red one's den. 
Y/n tries not to advert her gaze. If she looks into the direction of the den now, it'd be a dead giveaway. She tries to collect herself, to even her breathing. She closes her eyes for a second and tries to set her intention. When she opens her eyes again, she's met with the burning red ones of the dragon. She gives it a determined stare. I'm not going to back down, I'm not going to die, she recites in her mind over and over again as she slowly stands up keeping her posture bowed and small. She takes one deep breath before starting a sprint in the den's direction.
She can hear the yelping sound of surprise behind her and the massive stomps of the beast following her. Suddenly, electricity lies in the air. For a moment the air seemed to become cooler. Y/N's heart starts racing. She's felt this before. Right before the great red burned that man into ashes. That's it, y/n thinks while quickly sliding down in a sad attempt to dodge the fire.
However, the flames don't reach her because suddenly the great red is standing right in front of her spewing its own fire. Y/n turns back and sees the fire of the green one meet the red one's in a firestorm. Seeing it side by side, y/n thinks that the green dragon's fire has a hint of blue in it in contrast to the red one's fire which is just a glowing red and orange. The green one cannot keep up with the red one's firepower and retreats. The red one throws an eardrum-busting roar after it. Y/n's hands race up to her ears protecting herself from the sound.
Small fires still smolder on the ground when the red dragon resumes its fighting stance. It turns to y/n and she's sure the look the great red gives her is angry. She's so sure about that since Katsuki has the same wild, untamed look in his eyes when he's angry. The red one snarls at her and retreats into its den. Y/n doesn't wait a single second to follow it inside.
„I'm really sorry for just showing up here, you know“, she rambles, „I don't want to go back to Katsuki and I didn't know where else to go. You see the situation is really complicated and...“
Y/n stops her spewing of words mid-sentence. What even is she doing here? Talking to a dragon? Y/n drops her arms to her sides. Suddenly, she feels exhausted and desperate and just... done. This day has been so frustrating. Y/n stares intensely at the ground.
What am I even doing here?, she thinks. Like literally, what am I doing? Following a total stranger who has a terrifying reputation back to his tribe of brutes and warriors? Walking straight into dragon territory? It's like all my logical thinking has gone out of the window since the moment I met Katsuki.
Y/n feels hot tears pour out of her eyes and down her cheeks. 
This is so stupid. I'm so stupid.
Maybe it's wrong to blame Katsuki for this. Maybe her making bad decisions started when the world started to fall apart. When the sickness took first her mother and then her father. When her brother left. Why didn't she follow him? Maybe she couldn't have joined the military but she would've made a fine nurse. Why on earth did she think she was better off alone?
Her tears hit the ground. She tries not to let out any sobs. Somehow showing weakness in front of the dragon is humiliating. Nonetheless, she can't help but cower to the ground. She remembers the first day with Katsuki. When she was all alone in the woods and the weight of everything that had happened started to crush her down. She feels the same right now. Only like ten times worth. At least back then she could've had the chance to return to the kingdom, find her brother, do something.
Right now, she's stuck. Her actions are so very limited. She can't tell these people what she wants or doesn't want. Also, she's sure that Katsuki and that blonde woman couldn't care less about what y/n wants. Katsuki didn't even ask her if she wanted to come along. He just assumed and put her onto the back of his dragon. He also didn't ask or even attempt to explain to her what happened this morning. When suddenly three strange women stripped her down and dressed her up like a playdoll.
Maybe Nadia's right. These people do not care about her or the other women. Maybe they do only care about producing children. Maybe that's what Katsuki wants. Maybe him liking her is just a plus point. A little extra he gets because he's the big scary leader.
Y/n pulls her hair at the roots. She lets out a choked scream. She's angry and desperate and so, so frustrated. 
Suddenly something nudges her foot. It's one of the little red dragons from earlier. It looks up to her with almost puppy-like eyes and it nestles its head against her leg like a kitten. Y/n lets out a raspy breath she didn't notice she was holding. Furiously, she rubs her eyes.
How silly, she thinks, it's not like crying will help it. She pats the little one's head and suddenly another little one appears on her side. Before she can help it, she's getting tackled again. This time, they're softer than before. Competing for head pats rather than trying to sink their baby teeth into her arms and legs. It's like they are sensing y/n's bad mood and trying to cheer her up.
A giggle rises in y/n's throat and she tries to swallow it down. As she tries to give each of them a head pat, the great red moves over to her and nudges her with its snout as well. Y/n knows better than to touch it without permission. She gives it a small smile however and she believes seeing something like content in its eyes.
Eventually, the little red ones grow tired of tackling y/n and set to rest against the great red. The bigger dragon shifts its wing like it did when y/n and Katsuki looked for shelter under them during the rain. Y/n takes it up on the invitation and slides in between the little ones. She leans against the red's tummy. While the little dragons fall asleep around her and even the great red's breathing starts to slow down, y/n stays wide awake in the darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx @bakugouswh0r3 @xxjesshuxx @helenamaximoff @ssssssws-world @k1tk4tkatsuki @gh0stgirl333 @anon-mouse223 @bexxs @i-am-ms-rebel-heart @wannabeisekai @spragaraga @faemagic88 @kolakoke @faetoraa @cax-per @willy-the-witch @stardream14 @jiyuu-da @mintytalesblog @sparklyoperaroadpie @musicbecky @maria-patricia @mistermemister @katsukismrs @l0kisbitch @bakukiriswife @rebel-loves-anime @drink-water-456
@gold24fish @notsaelty @kolakoke @all-in-the-fandoms @deftonianfr @faemagic88 @l-bozo-l @maria-patricia @alicecil87 @darlink-xoxo @novthewolf @berryvioo @leelee28901 @angie-1306 @miniaturebouquet @skibbiescoober @weebperson2003 @spragaraga @fudo-aki @stillcrazystacey @bakkusimpp @itsiambaby @lynnsqueendom @jinx-nanami @teddyinks @hello0815 @dualinstinct @megapintofmilkshake @potatocatsan @beansofskittles
[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]
81 notes · View notes
ihadlife · 15 hours
Text
Achilles' Heel
Tumblr media
pairing: (aged up) pro hero!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 10.2k
synopsis: You and Bakugo aren't dating, so you can't be really mad when he's toying with you. What you can be, though, is miserable. Especially when you get laid off from work. And to whose else's arms can you run into other than the person's who's hurting you the most. 
tags: 18+, adult content, fem!reader, fem gendered pronouns and pet names, angst, so much fucking angst, baby trapping, unprotected sex, dumbification, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talking, oral sex (male and female receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, impact play, unrequited love, reader and other people smoke, reader has crippling mommy issues and self-isolates, the worst possible decisions ever made at all times, toxicity contest between reader and Bakugo i guess
an: crossposted on ao3. reader makes decisions so bad i wanted to smack her head against concrete all the time. if you're reading this for the smut i suggest you skip this one, it's not centered around it. it was pain in the ass to write bakugo’s direct speech but if it doesn’t make sense from an accent standpoint i’m begging you let me know and i’ll adjust it. and as always, english is my second language so if you spot any mistakes or even typos pls let me know.
Tumblr media
“I get that he was like… busy, and probably exhausted after, but he could’ve sent me a message at least, you know?” 
“Yeah, I’ve been telling you he’s a dick.” 
Your best friend inhaled the cold autumn air through the tobacco and filter in their cigarette, filling their lungs with smoke before exhaling it, letting it mix with the breeze. 
“He’s not a dick… there’s just a lot on his plate.” You tried defending him, but even to your own ears, the words that had left your mouth sounded pathetic and feeble. “God knows how I would’ve acted if I had his job.” 
You were looking down at your own hands, playing with the handle of the mug that was now empty, the coffee in it long gone. You didn’t even have to look up to know that your friend was giving you a dirty look. 
To be fair, they weren't completely wrong. You still couldn’t get behind their words – a dick – but you more or less agreed with their general idea: he wasn’t treating you right and you deserved better. 
Knowing and realising all that, you still couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it. 
“You would’ve been honest and communicated.” They took another drag through their cigarette. “And he should be too. If he wants to keep a relationship.” 
The truth was, he had a demanding job. Being a pro hero and saving people’s lives almost every single day was taxing. Not only physically, but also mentally. You understood that. You had let him know that you understood. 
Still, as your friend said, and even as your own head was telling you, wanting him to communicate his needs and intentions beforehand was the bare minimum. Not even letting a problem arise and preventing it. Because he should have cared. 
The thing that hurt you the most was that it hadn’t always been like that. 
At the start, when you two met, he was attentive. Funny. Kind. Charming. You were sure he was still the same person, only not towards you. Not anymore, at least.
You entertained your friend and they tried to distract you from your own thoughts for about another hour before you both got up and went separate ways, counting on seeing each other sometime in the next two weeks again. Not that any of you could make it longer without seeing each other. 
You decided to take the longer walk home, hop to a small market on your way and buy some necessities you needed. Maybe pick up something small to treat yourself. 
Your heels were clapping on the sidewalk loudly, your tempo moderate. Your feet hurt after spending the entire day in your heels and once again you cursed yourself for choosing this type of footwear when you had known you would have to spend an entire day in them. There was a huge blister forming on your right Achilles, you were sure. 
You fished your phone from your purse without even thinking about it, your thumbs moving on the screen as if they’d had a mind of their own. Or maybe it was a muscle memory at this point. 
You opened the messages app on your phone and stared at the screen. Maybe hoping that if you stared long and hard enough, you would somehow manifest his response. Or maybe he would even open and read the message instead of leaving you on delivered. 
I’m sorry to hear that! You really should take a few days off, you deserve it :( 
Pathetic. 
Scoffing at yourself you put your phone back into your purse and entered the small market. After greeting the lady who owned the shop you grabbed a basket and started browsing the isles. 
You liked this market. The owner was aloof, she never asked you personal questions. You had been going here for long enough for the lady to remember you, you were one of the regular customers, yet she treated you like a stranger every time. 
You appreciated that. This kind of curtness. 
You began your usual route around the small store – a route you’d walked so many times you would be able to walk it with a scarf around your eyes without bumping into a single thing. 
You idly strolled through the shop, picking up the stuff you needed. 
Toast bread. 
A premade sandwich with cheese, ham, and cucumber. 
Spam ham. 
Canned fish. 
A few packets of instant ramen. 
Cheap coffee. 
Two single rolls of toilet paper. 
Two bottles of soju. 
Your feet stopped once you were in front of the register. You put the basket on the counter with a tiny smile and waited for the owner to scan the items. 
Your eyes slid from the small woman to the stand next to the register, where the magazines were, all kinds together. The serious ones and the ones that just wrote about celebrity gossip. Living and lifestyle ones. Ones for teenagers. Weekly sudokus and crossword puzzles. 
You weren’t the same scared, shy, uncertain intern as you were a few years ago. You’ve earned your place in the publishing company; you were a proper columnist at that point. So when your boss had assigned you the interview with the pro hero that would be the main feature of the next issue, you had been elated and had readily accepted the task. You had been sure this would help further your career. Maybe help you get a raise. 
As you had soon learned, you might have been a good columnist, but you were still very much naive. You hadn’t gotten a raise. Nor had the feature helped the career. 
What you’ve gotten out of the interview, however, was your phone number in Dynamight’s phone. 
“Thanks for the interview, it was great.” You smiled and closed your laptop right after saving the file. 
“No, ya were great.” 
You laughed a little, bashful, a quiet ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you put your laptop into its case and into your faux leather bag that was resting against the chair you were sitting in. 
“I mean it,” he leaned back in his luxurious office chair, his elbows resting on the arms of the seat. “Most of the interviews I do are real uncomfortable. People love bein’ nosy and invadin’ my  fuckin’ privacy.” 
“You can’t blame them,” you grinned. “Of course, they wanna know everything about one of the most popular heroes.” 
“And ya?” He asked after a slight pause and butted his chin in your direction. 
“Me?” 
“D’ya wanna know everythin’ ‘bout the most popular hero?” 
You didn’t miss the way he changed ‘one of the most popular’ to ‘most popular’. Shameless. 
“Uhm,” you bit your lower lip, not really sure what to answer. 
“Lemme take ya out.”
You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. His cockiness and the roughness around the edges were more alluring than you would like to admit. 
“Okay.” You breathed out and gave him a nervous smile. 
Were you ready to go on a date with a pro hero though? 
“Sorry?” You apologised to the woman when you realised she had said something. 
She repeated the total price to you. 
Oh, right. 
You fumbled with your purse a little and fished out your wallet. 
“Could you please add a bag to that?” 
The woman grabbed one plastic bag from under the counter and put it on top of the things you purchased, not bothering to bag them. 
“Actually… I would also like some cigarettes. And a lighter.” You put your wallet on the counter and started bagging the groceries yourself. 
“What kind?” Was all she said, but you didn’t miss the judgy look she gave you. 
“Gold Marlboro.” 
She turned around to retrieve the cigarette box and basic, plastic lighter in a bright blue colour and handed them to you. 
You finished bagging your stuff quickly, paid for it and with a goodbye exited the market. 
A silent groan left your lips when you felt the rocky cement underneath your feet again, the back of your shoe digging into your Achilles more than before. The blister was going to be a big one. 
The rest of the route to your home was uneventful. Thankfully. Once you opened the front door of the crappy building where you lived, you stood in front of the elevator. 
It was old, unreliable, and just barely held together. This is why you usually took the stairs, but the painful cushion filled with fluid made you reconsider your actions. You looked from the elevator to your feet. It was either the stairs which would abuse your blister even more, or the risky elevator. 
You sighed as you carefully stepped out of the heels. 
“Shit.” 
The blister that formed on your Achilles during the day must have popped and was now bleeding. Your entire heel and the inside of your shoe were stained with red that was slowly turning brown; the edges were crusty and flaking.  
“Great.” 
You bent down to pick up the bloody shoes in your free hand and started walking up the stairs. The stone and occasional tiles of the floor were just a tad too cool on your soles but you didn’t necessarily mind the sensation. It felt nice on your slightly swollen feet after the entire day. 
Once you made it to the seventh floor – your floor – you stopped in front of the door to your apartment, and with a loud bang let the shoes fall from your hand to the floor. The bag with your groceries followed suit and soon you were trying to fish out your keys from your faux leather shoulder bag. 
Your phone started vibrating, set on silent mode. Scrambling to quickly pick it up, you found your phone in record time and checked the caller’s ID, hoping to find a certain hero’s name on the display. 
Your eyebrows furrowed a little when you found out it was your mother calling you. Inhaling deeply and breathing out through your nose, you slid your finger over the screen and put the phone against your ear. 
“Hi, mom!” Your voice was too high-pitched as you greeted her. You leaned your head heavily to the side and squished the phone between your ear and your shoulder to keep your hand empty. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” 
You pulled a face at the pet name. You hated loving it. 
“Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy right now. Is it important?” You slightly fumbled with your bag as you kept trying to find your keys. 
“Oh, no, I just wanted to call and ask how you’re doing,” you could hear the smile in her voice. 
“I’m doing fine! Listen, would it be alright if I call you tomorrow? I’ve got a lot of things I still gotta do today.” You were lying through your teeth. 
It took only a few more seconds of conversation with her, and you both agreed on a call the next day when you ‘have more time’. You tossed the phone in your bag and rummaged through all the things once again before you found your keys in the bottom corner of your bag and unlocked the door. 
 First, you walked into the small and cramped hall of your apartment and put down your purse, then just halfway stepped out of your flat to retrieve your shoes and finally the bag with groceries. 
Eventually, you closed and locked the door behind you, the grocery bag in your arms as you stepped into the apartment that was way too small to even fit a single person. Not even two steps later you were in your living room and bedroom and after three more steps and turning the corner twice you were standing in the ‘kitchen’. ‘Kitchen’ with quotation marks, because the very few cabinets with a sink and without a proper oven could hardly count as a regular kitchen. 
The apartment was horrible. It was in a worse part of town – not necessarily the worst, but bad enough. The prefabricated block of flats was old and in desperate need of renovation; the plaster on the outside of the building was slowly crumbling, the insolation was thinner than the walls between apartments, the pipes were rusty, and you heard that several neighbours of yours from lower levels had complained about mould. 
Most of the people here, except for a few old grandmas and young women around your age, were unfriendly. The neighbours, with whom you shared one of the living room walls, were too loud. 
Oftentimes, there were strange smells, ones you could not identify or describe. Whether they were lingering in the hall of the building or, for some godforsaken reason, in your own flat, they always lasted only a couple of hours. 
During your walks up and down the stairs to get to or from work, you’d meet people who’d make you cross the street if you met them in the city at night. They were mostly younger men with pronounced eyebags and a strut that was either overconfident or not confident enough. 
The only reason you stayed there was because it was cheap and the commute to your work from here was alright. Even with a salary that was too low for the job you did, you were able to afford it and even save a little bit of money on the side for any possible emergencies. 
You set the grocery bag on the counter and went back into the hall to take your probably ruined shoes, bringing them to your minuscule bathroom and setting them on the floor in your shower, deciding on trying to salvage them later. 
On your way back to the living room you took your work bag with you. Opening the window first and letting the cold autumn breeze in, you sat down on the couch and fished around in your bag once again, looking for the cigarettes and lighter that you put separately into your purse. Once you found it, you chucked the bag without any care on the floor and leaned back on the couch, putting your bare feet up on the coffee table. 
You hissed as the raw meat on the back of your heel came into contact with the old glass top of the table that needed some proper cleaning, but ultimately did nothing to alleviate the pain. Instead, you took a single cigarette out of the package and rested it between your lips, inhaling at the same time as your fingers brought the fire from the lighter to life. 
You left the cigarette hung from your mouth, held by your dry lips, and leaned your head back, your hands splayed on the sides of your body. 
The fact was, you were exhausted. 
And you didn’t even have a good reason for it. 
Sure, work sucked. You worked like a dog only to be constantly overlooked and not earn enough. You were lying to your own mother every time you talked, pretending you were much more successful than you actually were, trying to get on her good side and receive any bit of praise. You hated living in your apartment. You were seeing a man who probably didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him. 
The only good thing was your high school friend, always by your side and ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. 
Maybe you should go see a therapist. 
You closed your eyes and deeply breathed in the stale air that refused to move even with the window opened through the tobacco and filter. You wondered what Bakugo was doing right now. Maybe he was working on the paperwork in his office, sitting behind the big, wooden table that you’d once seen. Or maybe he was out, patrolling with one of his sidekicks, walking in the streets. Maybe he was covered with fake sweat, flexing his muscles for a shoot for another men's magazine. 
Your mind lingered on the image of that. 
His healthily tanned skin taut over his herculean muscles, the drops of water rolling down and creating a web of moisture, leaving goosebumps behind. 
You pressed your thighs together, putting a small amount of pressure on the nether part of your body. 
You thought back to all the passionate moments you’d spent with the pro hero. Bakugo might have been getting on your nerves lately due to his behaviour but he was an exceptional lover. He was the best you’d ever had, not that you would admit it out loud. That fiery personality of his projected itself well in the bedroom. 
You brought your hand to the cigarette between your lips, took it away from the dry skin and shook off the stack of ash that was growing bigger and bigger at the end of the tobacco. Even though the hot ash landed on the floor covered by very cheap linoleum that was slowly peeling in some corners, you didn’t care. 
“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, princess,” Bakugo was panting above you, the drops of sweat rolling down his forehead, neck, and chest and occasionally landing on your damp skin. 
Your pussy was drooling on his dick, your juices wet on your inner thighs as well as his entire crotch and lower abdomen. He was bullying your body with his cock, repeatedly slamming it in and out of you at a fast pace. 
“Katsuki,” you pleaded. You didn’t even know what you were asking him — to slow down? To change the angle? To fuck you harder? Your brain was a mush at that point and all you could think about was him, him, him. 
“Not my name, sweetheart,” he grinned and slapped the top of your cunt with his hand, successfully hitting your clit. 
You winced and tried to comprehend what he just said to you. Once the words registered, you corrected your mistake. 
“Dyna- Dynamight!” His hero name on your lips was cut in half by your gasp. 
“There we go.” He praised you. He didn’t move his hands from your hips when he angled them more, making your back arch and your pussy more open for him. “Your pussy fits me like a fuckin’ glove.” 
Your head was swimming from all the sensations. Bakugo’s dirty talking, his hot breath hitting your calves while your legs were propped up on his shoulders, the blunt nails on his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, the tip of his dick dragging along your warm walls while he made sure you could feel him for several days to come. 
“Look at ya,” he continued. “My dick feels so good’ya can’t even think, huh? Did I fuck ya dumb, princess?” There was a mocking tone to his voice while he talked. 
In a normal situation, if you were having sex with anybody else, you would’ve been embarrassed. Both about the mocking and also about the fact that he was right. To be fair, none of your exes were able to fuck you good enough to get you into this state. But with Bakugo you couldn’t even manage to form thoughts coherent enough to feel the embarrassment at the moment. 
“Dynamight,” was all you managed to let slip from your lips. 
With the cigarette still between your lips, you unbuttoned your trousers and pushed your dominant hand under the fabric of your panties, the tight cotton sandwiching your fingers between the textile and your cunt. 
You circled your entrance to gather some moisture, your pussy just starting to get wet. With the now slick pad of your finger, you moved it upward, tucking it a little underneath the hood to touch your clit directly. 
Breathing out cigarette smoke from your nostrils, you leaned your head back, resting it against the headrest of your couch. With your eyes closed and a gentle sigh leaving your lips, you started moving the finger in circular motions. 
“That’s right, princess.” 
Your eyes were watering as you tried to swallow around the thickness of his cock in your throat. 
“Fuck yeah, just like that.” His grip on your hair tightened. You were running out of air and fighting your gag reflex when you put your palms on his strong thighs, ready to tap out at the last second in case you needed to. “Choke on my dick.” 
Your nose scrunched up against the neatly trimmed pubes as you gagged hard and you quickly tapped his thigh. Bakugo didn’t release your hair, instead, he tugged your head backwards so you would get him out of your mouth quickly. Your lips were red and swollen, covered in your own spit and as well as his precum, parted as you panted for air. Two tears rolled down both of your cheeks as you looked up at the man standing in front of you. 
“Good girl,” he sadistically grunted through his gritted teeth. “You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t ya?” 
You closed your eyes as he gently, almost affectionately, slapped your cheek a few times. 
“Open,” was all he said as he pushed two fingers into your mouth, reaching so far into your throat it made you gag again. 
You grabbed the butt of the cigarette with your hand that wasn’t down your pants and leaned over to your coffee table to put it out against the glass. Leaving the butt there, you reclined against the couch once again, moving your finger from your clit back to your entrance, adding a second one to cover them both in your wetness and pushing them inside of you, immediately targeting your g-spot. 
“Don’t stop.” 
Bakugo’s hand on your hip helped with guiding your movements, effectively pushing you up and down on his cock as you rode him. You were so close to him your nipples were rubbing against his chest with every motion and you were practically breathing each other’s air. The tip of him was deep inside of you and rubbed against your g-spot each time you moved. Your arms were resting on his shoulders. One hand was leaning your weight against his trapezius and the other one against the god-awfully expensive leather sofa of his which you were probably staining now. 
“Fuck,” he groaned so quietly you were only able to hear him thanks to the proximity. “You’re mine, do you understand?” His other hand, which wasn’t holding your hip but was snaked around your waist and pushing in between your shoulder blades so that you would be close to him, moved upwards and firmly, but not forcefully, squeezed the back of your neck. The gesture only made you feel that much closer to him. You nodded your head as fast as you could, but that was not enough of an answer for him. 
“Say it. Say you’re mine.” 
There was a certain desperation in his voice. Desperation that you heard for the first time with him. 
“I’m yours.” 
The words silently left your lips with a puff of air following suit. Bakugo wasted no time and kissed your lips passionately, seemingly putting all his feelings into it. 
But you knew better. 
“Say it again.” 
“I’m yours.” 
The buzz of your phone vibrating in your bag next to the sofa disrupted you. 
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You let out an angry grunt. 
You debated not picking it up and calling whoever it was that interrupted you later, but decided against it when you felt a considerable amount of guilt in your throat. What if it was important? 
You quickly pulled your hand out of your trousers and wiped your wet fingers on your blouse, leaving shiny, sticky splotches behind. Fumbling with the bag a little, you managed to find your phone just in time, not even looking at the caller ID as you swiped your finger against the screen and put it against your ear. 
“Hey.” 
Your body froze a little at the sound of the unusually cheery voice on the other end. He must have had a pretty good day, judging by his tone. 
“Uh, hi.” 
“Ya busy?” 
You straightened on the sofa and tried to clear your throat as discreetly as possible. 
“No, I was just cooking, sorry.” Lie. 
“Cool. Listen, we haven’t seen each other for a while so I wanted to call ya.” 
“That’s nice of you.” Bare. Fucking. Minimum. 
“Yeah. I can’t really talk now, I’m ‘bout to go grab a few beers with my mates. I’ll call ya later, so we can talk properly, yeah?” 
“Oh, sure.” You turned your head to look at the clock on the wall in your kitchen. It was already nearing eight o’clock, just how late did he mean to call? 
“Alright. I’ll talk to ya later.” 
He ended the call sooner than you could say goodbye. 
Your hand that was holding the phone to your ear fell limply against the couch with the device still between your fingers. You didn’t know if his call made you feel happy or even more pathetic. 
It was good that he called you, right? He obviously wanted to check up on you. And also promised to call you again later. 
So why were you feeling like this? Where did this feeling come from? 
You gulped the saliva that gathered between your teeth and the flesh of your cheek, accidentally swallowing a bit of air as well. 
No, you thought to yourself. He was trying. That was good enough for you. For now. 
You raised your hand with your phone again and unlocked it, opening a food delivery app. You debated between classic pizza and maybe something healthier, but your finger ultimately landed on the pizza picture on your screen, successfully tapping it into the cart. You chose the address for delivery and type of payment and locked your phone.  
Releasing a deep breath, you stood up and with your phone still in your hand walked the few steps to your bed. The pizza was supposed to be delivered in 30-60 minutes. Might as well masturbate properly with your vibrator in the meantime. 
»»————-  ————-«« 
After giving yourself two orgasms, eating the entire pizza and drinking several shots of soju, you fell asleep on your sofa just a few minutes after midnight. Bakugo didn’t call. 
»»————-  ————-««
It was several days later that you heard from him again. This time, he didn’t even bother with calling you; he decided that two texts would suffice. 
hey, sorry for not calling you the other day, i got wasted 
you wanna see each other sometime again? ;) 
‘That’s not a proper apology. Send him to hell.’ your friend replied when you sent them a screenshot of said messages. 
You were sitting behind the desk you were assigned at work, your hands idly resting on the keyboard of your computer, but your eyes were glued to your phone that lay locked next to your cup of coffee. You should send him a reply. 
“Do you have a minute?” 
You jerked in your seat involuntarily, the sudden proximity of the voice effectively scaring you. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face, when you realised you were caught slacking off. 
“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied to your boss, not exactly enthusiastically. 
“Great.” He gave you a fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes and quickly left his lips and tapped the side of your cubicle a few times before he turned around and started walking towards his office, obviously expecting you to follow. 
You cleared your throat and got up from your seat, tugged your pencil skirt down a little and followed him as quickly as you could in the garment that was sexy and elegant, but also restrictive. 
You closed the door once you stepped into the personal office that was separated by glass walls from the rest of the cubicles where you and your colleagues worked. 
“Sit down.” Your boss moved his hand in the general direction of the seat that was positioned in front of his desk. 
The table was made of a grey and white particle board, as well as all the desks you and others worked on. The carpet in his office was originally the same shade of dark blue as the rest of the entire floor, but was less walked on and therefore managed to retain its colour better than the carpet in the rest of the space. 
The window behind his back that you were facing and that he liked to stare out of so often was as bleak as it always is this time of the year. The strange shift between autumn and winter when the weather gets even colder and the days even shorter, when you usually reach for your second-hand wool coat before leaving your apartment. 
“We need to talk.” 
You were fucked. 
»»————-  ————-««
Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you held the phone in your hand. 
When are you free? We need to talk. 
A small part of you wished Bakugo cared about you enough to actually get stressed after reading your message. But the more rational part of you knew that that wasn’t the case. The pro-hero with a super-inflated ego wouldn’t get anxious due to a mildly threatening message from an average journalist who had had his balls in her mouth not so long ago. 
Unemployed journalist. 
You debated calling your mother but ultimately decided against it. You weren’t in the headspace to deal with that kind of phone call. 
You also considered calling your friend. 
You didn’t, though. 
You knew they would pity you. You didn’t want people to pity you. You just needed somebody to listen. And maybe a hug. But none of the people you were in contact with or that were in your life would ever just listen. 
So you were left all alone with all these feelings that felt just too heavy on your chest. A lead that made it hard to breathe, a lead that your muscles had to actively fight against to fill your lungs with much-needed air. A lead that made you drag your feet against the pavement. 
Your phone buzzed in your hand. 
this thursday at 5pm, come to my apartment
You didn’t even open the message to properly read it, your eyes just skimmed over the message in the notification on your lock screen before you stuffed the electronic device in your bag once again. 
Good, you thought for yourself. You had three days to somewhat get your shit together before visiting him. As much as you had feelings for a certain pro-hero, you were not about to let him see you like this. 
Especially not since you were determined to end whatever the weird situationship between the two of you was. 
»»————-  ————-«« 
You rested the back of your head against the cool mirror behind you. The extra thick layer of concealer underneath your eyes to hide the dark circles was slowly creasing even though you’d used enough powder to set it… you could almost feel it. 
The Visine in your eyes to make them appear whiter and not like you cried just this morning felt unnatural – too watery and a tiny bit stingy when you closed your eyes for long enough. 
Your thought process? Don’t let him see your weakness. Don’t look like you actually care about this ‘relationship’. Could you even call it that? Could you call this situationship a relationship when he kept you secret from the public and his friends as well? When all he ever wanted to do with you lately was to fuck you? 
The odd smell of the hairspray that you had used deliberately to keep your hair bouncy was almost palpable in the air, even though you used quite a lot of perfume. Those two smells as well as the lingering stench of a cigarette you smoked earlier combined were almost suffocating you, pressing down on your person, making you feel smaller and smaller. 
The supposedly calming music that was playing in the elevator was paradoxically making you even more nervous. 
The trousers you decided to wear that day made your ass look extra good, but cut into your stomach every time you sat down – a decision you, again, made on purpose. To get it over with quicker. You can’t even really sit down with these on. Plus, obviously, it wouldn’t be bad to remind him what he was going to lose, right? One last look at your ass was all you were going to grant him. 
Saying that you were uncomfortable was an understatement. 
You lost your job just a few days ago. It was clear to you you’d have to consider moving soon; the shitty apartment you lived in was cheap, but not cheap enough to keep while unemployed. And now, on top of your job and an apartment, you were about to lose him. 
Maybe it was a good thing, though. Even though he made you feel like you were on cloud nine in the beginning, showering you with affection and spending most of his free time with you, lately all you’d been getting from whatever was happening between you two was stress and anxiety. Self-doubt. More insecurities. 
Besides, were you really going to lose him? Could a person lose something they’ve never had in the first place? 
Your mind wandered on its own to your favourite memory with him. It was still quite fresh, you could remember it as if it had happened a few days ago, even though in reality it had been weeks. 
Your head resting on Bakugo’s thigh, the sound of the television and the feeling of his fingers playing with your hair inevitably lulling you to sleep. Your belly was comfortably full thanks to the amazing dinner Bakugo had cooked for you. 
“You’re sleepin’.” 
“Am not.” You replied, but you could hear it in your own voice, the tiredness and how you slightly slurred your words, your eyes still closed. His smell and proximity was just making you feel so, so safe.
A sigh left your lips as your hand moved on its own and started rummaging in the small purse that you’d brought with you. The fluorescent light in the elevator did nothing to flatter your appearance, quite the opposite, actually. You found the lip gloss you were wearing that day in the depths of your bag and reapplied it generously. You gave yourself another look in the mirror as you stuffed the small thing back into the bag. 
God, it looked like you’d tried too hard. 
Quickly, with only a few stories left, you tried to card your fingers through your hair to make them messier and ruin your appearance a little. Your hand flew to your lips to wipe off all the gloss you’d just put on as the door of the elevator opened to Bakugo’s floor. 
You hesitantly stepped inside of the apartment and took off your shoes, the elevator door closing behind you. Leaving your coat and scarf on the hanger that was situated in the dead end of the hallway, you then stepped in the other direction to actually get further into the flat. 
Your feet were quiet on the overpriced Persian runner rug, so you called his name to announce your arrival. 
“Hey.” 
You were looking directly at his back as you walked into the more open space and the centre of the floor. With his back to you and broad shoulders covered by a simple oversized black hoodie, he was standing right in front of a kitchen counter, probably mixing something judging by the sound of it. 
“Hi.” You replied, your voice lacking the usual enthusiasm that laced it whenever you were with him. You put your purse on the couch in the living area and walked closer to where Bakugo was standing. 
“Hope you’re hungry.” He said without raising his head or really looking at you. 
When you came close enough, you were actually able to see what he was cooking – tamagoyaki. 
“Not really.” You’d kill for some tamagoyaki at that moment, to be honest. “I'm not planning on staying long, actually.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your weight against the kitchen counter, resting your hip against it. 
“Hm.” Was all he said. 
You watched as he poured another part of the egg mixture into the pan, helping it spread by tilting the metal and sort of pushing the liquid with chopsticks. 
Bakugo was an amazing chef. You’d asked him about it when you were eating curry rice during one of the occasions that you’d visited his flat and his response was a grunt and cookin’s not that hard. 
“You know why I’m here, right?” You asked. 
You hoped that he would say it first. Yer leavin’ me. You had prayed that he would say it, make it easier for you. Spare you from having to force air over your vocal cords and formulate the sounds with your tongue and lips. 
He didn’t. 
The silence stretched on as he seemingly minded his business, rolling the tamagoyaki into a perfect little roll and adding more egg mixture. 
“I can’t…” You started but cut yourself off. You gave it another thought before you started again. “This has to end.” 
Bakugo didn’t move a single muscle to indicate any sort of reaction he might’ve had. You watched him finally move as he took two bowls out of his kitchen cabinet and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen aisle. 
“Siddown, food’s almost ready.” 
He started filling the bowls with steaming rice straight from the rice cooker while the egg was frying on the pan. 
“I said I’m not hungry. I’m not here to eat.” 
“And I didn’ ask.” 
“Stop treating me like a child.” Anger was gathering in the pit of your stomach, twisting it more than it already was. 
“Then stop actin’ like one.” 
A moment of silence. 
You were speechless. 
A lump formed in your throat, successfully gagging you and preventing you from defending yourself. You could feel them, the tears forming in your eyes, threatening to fall over your lower lash line and roll down your cheeks. 
“Please, siddown so ya can eat your food.” 
You swallowed around the tightness in your throat and just nodded your head, not trusting your voice to keep steady. Without another word, you walked around the kitchen aisle and sat down on one of the tall bar stools, resting your forearms on the cold granite countertop. The stone was cold enough to sting your already cold skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. 
After not even two minutes the meal appeared in front of you – a bowl of rice, another bowl of miso soup with tofu, a plate filled with cut tamagoyaki and a small bowl of steamed spinach with garlic. 
“Eat up,” Bakugo said as he put his own bowls and plate on the countertop, sitting next to you. 
The food was warm, filling your tummy with a nice feeling. 
“It’s delicious.” You complimented after a few careful bites. You meant it. 
“It’s alright.” 
Ever the critic. Even when it comes to himself. 
The two of you were eating in silence, only the sounds of chewing and slurping filling the air. 
Bakugo raised his eyes from his meal when he noticed your reluctance to continue eating about halfway through the meal. 
“Why aren’ ya eatin’?” 
You could hear the disapproval in his voice. Not worry, not even concern. Just disapproval. 
“Uhm,” you started, but couldn’t finish your sentence. 
The godforsaken jeans you’d decided to wear were digging into your stomach painfully, to a point where a sharp pain was shooting up your chest. And you filling your belly more wasn’t helping it. 
“D’ya not like it?” 
“No! No, that’s not it.” You moved a piece of the omelette with your chopsticks around on the plate. “It really is delicious.” 
Hmph. 
You chewed on your lower lip. Bakugo was obviously unhappy with your answer. He was still staring you down. 
“I’m wearing my standing jeans.” You admitted after a few seconds. 
“Standin’ jeans.” He repeated, obviously not understanding the term. 
“Yeah. Standing jeans. Jeans that look great when you stand up, but you can't really sit down in them because they’re too tight.” 
Your laughable reason was met with silence, he was obviously letting you stew in the ridiculousness of it all. 
“They’re too tight when I sit down, they dig into my stomach.” 
Bakugo blinked at you once before he rolled his eyes and without a word got up and left the kitchen, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. 
You heard some sounds coming from the other side of the flat before he reappeared with grey sweatpants in his hand, handing them to you. 
“Change.” 
“I’m not going to change into your sweatpants.” You protested, looking at the fabric in his extended hand. “I didn’t even want to stay here. Nor eat your food. Can we just get this over with?” 
You were this close to begging him. This close. Begging him to say the final words, those ones you had no guts to really say. Even though they were long overdue. 
“Ya look like shit.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“Ya heard me. Ya look like a’mess. Change'nto those damn sweatpants and finish your food.” 
You looked from his face to the sweatpants he was still holding out for you. Reluctantly, you took them and stood up, immediately feeling the relief in your midsection. You walked back into the hallway where you came from and disappeared in the door on the left – Bakugo’s bathroom. 
You peeked a look at yourself in the mirror immediately after closing the door behind you. He was right. You looked like shit. The concealer was cakey under your eyes; the foundation was sitting on your skin almost unnaturally, making you look like you were wearing some sort of a mask. The mascara formed spider legs on your lower lash line – where some stray tears had gathered. The Visine you had used obviously wasn’t working.
You could just leave the apartment. Just leave and not look back. Obviously, he would get the hint, right? 
Leave and not say a word. Save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation, the uncomfortable feelings that would inevitably bubble up your chest and settle in your throat. 
You sighed and put some liquid hand soap in your palm, turning on the water with your other hand. Smearing the soap across your face, you rubbed hard enough to get the mask off your face, so you could feel the inevitable tears on your skin without any barrier between the two. The soap was slightly stinging as it got into your eyes, but it didn’t stop you from rubbing your face with your nails until your skin was all red and the makeup was now underneath your fingernails. 
It didn’t matter if you wore your mask or not. Not anymore. He had seen right through it. Might as well bare yourself to him. 
Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you saw the black streaks of mascara all over your face, which made you dunk your face into the watery, soapy concoction for longer, until it was running down your forearms and to your elbows, dripping down onto the grey rug on the floor. It didn’t bother you at this point. 
You only opened your eyes again when you ran out of breath, now looking at beet-red skin with two bloodshot eyes that were staring back at you in the mirror. 
That would do for now. 
Opening the drawer underneath the bathroom sink, you knew exactly where to look to find the hair accessories Bakugo kept for all his hookups. Grabbing the ones you needed, you pinned your slightly damp hair out of your face. Stripping off your standing jeans, you folded them neatly into a nice square before you put on the grey sweatpants that were ill-fitting on you. 
It didn’t matter now. 
Didn’t matter what you looked like. 
You sniffled a little and opened the door, emerging into the hallway and letting only the slight taps of your feet announce your entry to the kitchen. 
Bakugo looked up from his meal, unphased, and nodded his head to himself. 
“Thanks for the sweats.” You put your jeans on the counter to your right, where there was empty space. 
“No problem.” 
That was actually kind of nice of him. 
Your brain whined in your head. 
He wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Not now. Not when you needed a final push to end this. Like a coward. 
“Is al’this just ‘cause of me, or did somethin’ else happen?” 
You stayed silent for a while, instead putting in your mouth a spoonful of miso soup with a piece of tofu. 
Should you be honest with him, or lie? 
…It didn’t matter anymore, did it? 
“I got fired.” 
You stuffed your face with the fried egg. 
It was really nice to eat a warm meal after some time. Only now that you were wearing his sweatpants and your entire stomach wasn’t hurting from those damn jeans did you realise how much you actually relished the feeling of warmth filling you up. 
“Sorry t’hear that.” 
All you replied was a low hum from the back of your throat, continuing to fill the dark, empty space inside of you with the home-cooked meal. 
“Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” He asked after a minute. 
You could see in your peripheral that he was looking at you now, pausing his eating. 
“Not really.” 
After that, the two of you finished eating in silence. Once you accepted that Bakugo knew you weren’t alright, the silence actually turned comfortable. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking things over while the two of you were eating. Was this really the last time you’d ever see him? He deserved to get dumped for how badly he had treated you, right? 
Maybe he had his reasons. Maybe something in his life happened the same way you got fired just recently? 
You shook your head from side to side discreetly as you swallowed down another mouthful. It was too late. You came here for a reason, and that reason was exactly what you were mulling over now. 
Don’t be a fucking coward. 
It was the right thing to do. 
Bakugo treated you as disposable. If that was what you were to him, there was no reason for you to stay. 
Were you ready to prove to yourself that you truly were disposable to him, though? 
You realised you had been staring at now empty plates and bowls in front of you only when Bakugo’s hand appeared in the picture to collect the dishes. 
“Thank you for the food, it was really nice.” 
“Hm.” 
You stayed seated at the kitchen island as you watched him neatly put the bowls and plates into the dishwasher. It was obvious that he followed a certain system. You didn’t even consider getting up and offering any help. You knew him well enough to know that he would scold you and tell you to sit down again. 
Your eyes drifted over his body while he was bending down to put the porcelain away. The way his back muscles moved underneath the fabric, the way the dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck brushed against the skin. 
You could almost feel it. Feel his muscles move under your fingers, taste his skin on the tip of your tongue. 
Your eyes followed his movement as he finally turned around once he was done, resting his backside against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes met and your look didn’t falter. It didn’t. 
“So ya wanna break up?” 
You let him win and looked down at your lap. All you saw was the grey fabric that belonged to him. 
“Is it really a break-up if we haven’t even properly dated?” You dared to raise your eyes again. 
“Fair enough.” 
It was him now that looked down. You won this round. 
You were sitting on the bar stool in silence while he was just standing there, in the kitchen, the kitchen island creating sort of a safe barrier between you two. Your fingers were fidgeting in your lap, trying to make your mind focus on anything else than what was really going on in your head. 
Don’t say it. 
Don’t. 
“What happened?” 
You winced. You said it. 
“Whaddya mean?” 
This was a mistake. 
You abruptly got up and grabbed your jeans from the countertop. You were leaving in his sweatpants. You’ll send them back to him sometime later. 
“Wait.” 
You could hear his hurried footsteps following you to the living room area where you collected your purse from the couch. 
“Wait, god dammit,” he grabbed your arm and spun you around so you could face him. “What didya mean by that?” 
You were staring at the neckline of his hoodie, tears smudging your vision. There was not enough of them to roll over the notional barrier, but enough of them for you to fear that they would. 
“What didya mean by that?” He repeated the question. Now that he was so close to you, his voice got much softer. Much quieter. 
That along with the smell of his cologne and deodorant made you realise just how much you’d missed him. The emotion filled your body with a strange feeling of sorrow and grief. 
His hand left your arm and you craved for his touch to return. 
“What happened?” Your voice sounded broken. It felt like it was another person talking rather than you, you couldn’t recognise it. “It was so nice at the start.” 
You dared to look up at him, which turned out to be a mistake. The movement sent the drops of salty water over the edge of your waterline. You felt them rolling down your cheeks to your chin where they connected into one and dripped down. 
Bakugo’s vermillion eyes followed the movement of the liquid on your face. He almost looked guilty. 
“I don’ know whaddya want me t’say.” 
“The truth.” 
He looked away from you for a few seconds while he put his hands in his pockets. It was clear he was debating it. Whether or not he should really be honest with you. 
“You owe me that much.” You encouraged him to talk even though you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to be anywhere else with anybody else than in his apartment with him. Maybe you were a masochist. 
“I used ya.” 
Fresh tears started streaming down your face as soon as his words registered in your brain. His saying it out loud made it all too real. If he hadn’t admitted it, you could still pretend it was something else. You could pretend and make yourself feel better about it. When he admitted it you lost the possibility and comfort of gaslighting yourself into thinking he had a good reason. 
He had enough sense to look at the floor almost shamefully when he carried on. 
“I had a lottov things goin’ on ada time. Ya distracted me from it.” 
You blinked harshly to force the water from your eyes out. The gentle gasp for air left your lips even though you tried to fight it, to conceal it from him. 
“’M sorry. I thought I could give ya more, ‘cause you’re really nice.” 
“Yeah, well… really nice doesn’t seem to cut it, does it?”  
You both stood there in silence for a few more beats before you felt his hand on your cheek, his thumb smearing the tear away from underneath your eye. 
“Don’t.” 
It was a quiet plea, a quiet plea that sounded too much like a whimper, leaving your lips parted after rolling off them. 
“I meant what I said.” He pulled his hand away from your cheek, moving it to the other and wiping your tears there as well with the upper side of his index finger. “Ya are nice.” 
“Whatever.” You removed your face from his touch, eyes glued to the floor. 
“Spend the night.” 
Was it an order, or a request? You didn’t know, but the sentence froze your feet to the floor before you could turn and make your exit. 
“What?” 
“Listen, listen. No funny business. Just, spend the night. Ya can sleep inda guest room.” He added the last sentence almost as an afterthought. 
Your eyebrows were furrowed above your eyes that were moving from right to left, going from one red eye to the other, trying to gauge the sincerity of his statement. 
“Spend the night.” He repeated once more, his voice just barely above a whisper. 
Your mind was screaming at you to get the hell out of that apartment, but you felt yourself nod. 
A masochist. 
“Yeah?” He was making sure. 
“Yeah,” you whispered, not even looking him in the eye. The lump in your throat was making you feel like you could choke on it and you already felt bad for betraying yourself like this and agreeing to his outrageous request. You couldn’t bear the way he was definitely looking at you on top of all of that. 
Bakugo gently put his hand on your shoulder and guided you back into the heart of his apartment. 
“D’ya wanna watch some movie?” He led you to the couch so you sat down on it without any protest. 
“Sure.” 
He sat down next to you, not really close, but not far away from you either, turning the TV on and switching to the streaming service on it immediately. 
You kept biting the inside of your cheek and looking everywhere else than at the TV or him. Hearing the opening of a movie, you raised your eyes to the big screen mounted on the wall. Your throat went dry as soon as you realised what was playing. 
“No, something else.” You demanded quickly. “I wanna watch something new.” 
Bakugo looked at you for a few seconds and then nodded his head, taking the TV remote in his hand once again and switching the movie to a different one. 
The movie that he initially pressed play on was a movie you talked about with him. You could still remember how you gushed about it, mentioning how it was your favourite movie growing up and saying the words we should watch it together sometime. Of course, that 'sometime' never really came. So, now you wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him taint your movie. This was yours. He had no right to claim this thing as well. 
You wouldn’t let him have this because that would mean that at some point he actually listened to you. It would mean that at some point he might’ve tried if he cared enough.  
The sound of a different movie playing commanded your attention then and so you tried to tune in as much as possible. Just from the music, you could tell that it was an action movie. 
“Real’ like this one.” 
You wished he didn’t say those words. 
»»————-  ————-««
You were probably in the middle of the movie and lucky for you, you were already able to say that you hated it. Loud explosions, ridiculous situations, plot with holes. Surprisingly, Bakugo liked a Hollywood action movie with too big of a budget. 
Your eyes drifted from the TV screen to the window. Living this high up definitely had its perks. The view being one of the main ones. You remembered how naïve you had been when this situationship started. How you had thought maybe if this goes well, I’ll be looking at the same view every morning. 
“Ya don’t like it?” 
Ever the observant. 
You turned your head to the other side, looking at Bakugo who was looking right back at you. You bit your lip and shrugged your shoulders. 
“It’s fine.” 
You didn’t want to be mean but you also didn’t want to lie about liking it. 
“Fine?” 
Wrong answer, apparently. 
“I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for an action movie.” You tried to calm him down a little. Lying it was then. 
“Shoulda told me that hour and a'half ago. Dammit.” 
You watched him as he grabbed the remote and exited the movie. 
“What are ya inda mood for, then?” 
You watched his profile illuminated by the light from the TV screen for a few seconds. He was so beautiful it almost pained you. The constantly furrowed brows you almost couldn’t see because of his hair covering his entire forehead, his perfect nose, the shape of his lips. His skin without blemishes, apart from a few small scars, even though he didn’t really have a skincare routine. 
You remembered how you imagined what your possible babies would look like. They’d be perfect. 
“So?” He asked impatiently when you hadn’t answered immediately. 
His eyes met yours when you decided what to do. 
Moving closer to him, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as you remembered. He still tasted the same. It was Bakugo who leaned back, looking at you. Making sure you knew what you were doing. You leaned in more, kissing him again. Gently, almost tenderly. What if this was the last time you ever got to taste him? You relished the feeling, trying to commit to your memory as much as you could. His taste, his smell, the way his lips felt against you. The kiss got interrupted when he pressed his forehead against yours. 
“Are ya sure ya can handle it?”
You knew what he meant. Are you sure you can handle that, emotionally? Are you sure it won’t ruin you even more?  You couldn't help yourself. Bakugo was like a scab you couldn't stop picking at. An open wound that just wouldn't heal. He was your weak spot.
“No.” You said with your voice all breathy, kissing him once again, this time more passionately. Bakugo reciprocated without missing a beat, one of his hands grabbing the side of your face and the other one going straight to your waist. Not even a few seconds in, you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling him without breaking the kiss. 
You were eager. 
And Bakugo was just as eager as you. 
Part of your brain hated this. Hated how good his touch felt, hated how familiar all of this was. How safe you felt right in that moment and just how vulnerable and exposed it was all at the same time. You felt weak. 
Bakugo’s hand that was on your waist moved to your hip and gripped it tightly, pushing you back and forth, guiding your movements so you would grind against him. There was impatience in the movements from both of you. You knew where it was coming from on your end but the implications of it coming from him made your heart drop in your chest. 
“Need you.” You half whined against his lips before you quickly stood up and took off the sweatpants he had lent you. Bakugo followed suit – he took off his trousers hastily and welcomed you back in his lap with open arms, immediately grabbing at your flesh and squeezing what he could. 
“Couldn’t leave ‘thout one last fuck, could ya?” He growled against your skin when he moved his lips to your neck and started kissing and nibbling it. 
You let out a quiet moan and grabbed his growing bulge through his boxers, the thin fabric the only thing separating you from him. He was almost fully hard already, huffing against your neck as you stroked him. 
“Fuck, okay, lemme go grab a condom.” The hero parted from your neck momentarily and was about to get you off of him and get up when you stopped him. 
“No!” 
You surprised yourself with how quickly you objected to that. Bakugo stopped himself and gave you a look. 
“No,” you said calmer this time. “I wanna feel you.” 
You deserved it. You deserved this. You deserved at least one good thing in your life. And he would be the one to give it to you. You didn't need his love or affection. All you needed was a piece of him.
You pushed his underwear down just enough so his balls and dick, now fully hard, were free and stroked it, eliciting an almost painfully sounding groan from the man. 
“I wanna feel you tonight.” You repeated, pushing your own panties to the side and lining him up with your entrance. 
You definitely needed more prep than this, you knew that it would be an uncomfortable stretch and that you weren’t wet nearly enough to help with it, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 
You groaned from the slight sting, it was a bit worse than you expected it to be. 
“Shit, easy.” Bakugo put his hand on your hip to slow you down a bit. “No need’da hurry. We got all night, princess.” 
»»————-  ————-«« 
You sat on the bathroom floor in your mother’s flat, having to temporarily move in with her due to your unemployment. The phone you kept pressed against your ear kept ringing and ringing. To be honest, you were expecting it to go straight to a voicemail right away. 
“Yeah?” He picked it up probably at the last possible ring. 
“Hey.” You greeted him. “Listen, could we talk?” You bit your lip as you looked at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. 
Tumblr media
62 notes · View notes
bakugousflower · 15 hours
Text
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃Married but not?
Bakugou X Reader
Synopsis; UA staff has decided that on top of pushing hero skills, they must push domestic skills. You are put with a partner and must move and settle into your own dorm room, the problem is if you don’t get along and balance like a true married couple you fail the semester. Now what happens if you are put with a hot head who has different goals than you do?
Part one:
Based on the anime: More than a married couple, but not lovers
45 notes · View notes
purple-ravaged · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
veryvery sketchy recreation of That One pg from jjk during the perfect preparation arc (i just call it maki arc)
43 notes · View notes
livelyrockboi · 2 days
Text
Kirishima: “i love you”
Bakugo: “What?”
The blonde adjusts his hearing aid
Kirishima: “Nothing”
Little did Kirishima know Bakugo can lip read
43 notes · View notes
Text
Messy Bakugo sketch in my style 🙏🏼
don’t flame me for the costume I’m so behind on everything I’m not sure what this mf got on anymore 💀
Tumblr media
26 notes · View notes
honehonn3honey · 3 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Birthday boy 🎂
Tumblr media
30 notes · View notes
ua-news · 15 hours
Text
Tumblr media
💖✨️Bakugo headcannons✨️💖
When you first started dating bakugo you were questioning the whole thing because he's always so grumpy until one day you gave cooking a try you were cutting onions and bakugo stared at you the entire time while his friends talked till he slowly walking over looming over you " what the hell are you doing to that onion "
You laughed and replied" cutting it for a sauce I'm making " he looking around awkwardly "c...can you get me one of those special waters from your rooms minifridge i..I'm dehydrated " he lied and as you left he immediately started correcting your cutting and tasted your sauce making a face with his nose scrunched up then looks around adding spices and herbs tasting it again " okay better "
You couldn't believe your eyes when you came back bakugo lured you out of the kitchen to correct your food I mean yeah he was always the muscle but now he's a chef too? " b...bakugo did you just take over my own recipe..? " you stared in shock as he looked at you and gave you a" oh I guess yeah just sit with kirishma "
You sat down in disbelief turning red in the face as krishima poked your shoulder " woah your his significant other? Man he never shuts up about you and he always takes us to these girly shops with cutesy stuff because he wanted to get this big stuffed bunny with matching pj's" he went on about bakugo hiding his caring side as a can of sauce hits him in the head of course Mr rock is unphased and just yells " Hey not cool throwing things is mean sharing is caring and they deserve to know! "
39 notes · View notes