Will Bakugou Choose Seoul, Korea Or Your Wedding Anniversary?

will bakugou choose seoul, korea or your wedding anniversary?

Bakugou had turned the damn house upside down three times.

“Where the hell is it?” He hissed under his breath, storming through the hallway closet for the third time in two days. He’d torn apart the shoe rack, the document folders, and even flipped through the cookbooks in the kitchen, just in case he’d used it as a bookmark. No dice. The damn passport was still missing.

His hair was sticking up more than usual—half from stress, half from the static of the hoodie he’d thrown on that morning in frustration. They were supposed to leave for Korea in three days. Three. It was the biggest pro-hero conference he’d ever been invited to—panel talks, interviews, awards. Best Jeanist, Lemillion, and even Halfie had their confirmations sent in already.

And what did he have?

An expired copy of his license (he got a new one; the expired one’s just in his drawer), a half-crushed protein bar, and a very pouty, very pregnant wife in the living room.

You had your feet up on the couch, ankles slightly swollen beneath the oversized hoodie you’d stolen from his wardrobe. You were scrolling on your phone with one hand, the other resting on your baby bump, lazily tracing circles. When Bakugou stomped past, you looked up with the slow blink of a cat.

“Still lost?” you asked, not bothering to hide your amusement. Even laughed under your breath.

The audacity, he thinks, though it wasn’t frustration. He could never be mad at you.

Because he knows you’ll get mad at him, too.

Bakugou didn’t answer. He grunted instead, pulling out another drawer in the cabinet near the TV.

“Maybe it grew legs and walked off,” you teased. “Or maybe your big fat ego swallowed it.”

He shot you a look. “Not helping.”

You hummed. “Not trying to.”

Your pout had gotten more dramatic since hitting six months. Bakugou noticed it more these days, how you’d stare down your food like it personally offended you, or how you’d sigh theatrically every time the topic of even him leaving the house came up. At first, you’d been supportive—even joked that you’d video call him during the conference and heckle him from the screen. But once you found out the biggest day of the event landed on your wedding anniversary, the whole game changed.

Suddenly he feels like he’s on house arrest.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” you murmured, taking a sip of the juice he made you this morning. “Maybe you’re meant to stay home this time.”

Bakugou scoffed. As if.

“Ain’t no damn sign. It’s just misplacin’ shit.”

“You don’t have to go,” you said again. “You could stay. Cuddle me. Eat cake. Listen to me cry about clouds.”

“You said I could go if I find my passport,” he pouts, brows furrowed, and his lips jutted slightly.

“I did, and don’t be mad,” you replied. “I want you to go. Really. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Then why do you look like you wanna punch me in the throat?”

You blinked at him. “Because it’s our anniversary and I’m hormonal. Sue me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So I hope you don’t find it.”

That was the end of that conversation.

The night before their anniversary came sooner than expected.

Bakugou had made a reservation at one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the city. Private booth, soft fairy lights, cityscape twinkling behind them. The host even laid a small bouquet of lavender on the table when he told them it was for a special occasion. He hadn’t told you where you were going, only grunted, “Wear that dress you like—that comfy one. You know the one.”

He hadn’t mentioned anything new about the passport ordeal. You, who figured he’d either given up or accepted fate, were mostly content to enjoy the evening.

You looked like a dream, so his focus was entirely on you. Someone who he somehow managed to have (maybe his bond with his guardian angels came in clutch and even contacted Cupid himself to arrange an arrow for you two).

You waddled into the restaurant, cheeks a little fuller, eyes glowing. He still looked at you like he couldn’t believe he got so lucky. He thinks it makes you shy, how intense his gaze got, even after everything—the morning sickness, the mood swings, the late-night hospital runs due to paranoia.

“You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your lower back as you walked in.

“Mm,” you hummed, leaning into his touch. You could barely hide your smile at this point. “You’re staring.”

He didn’t even deny it. “I am? So what? Can’t a man just appreciate his wife?”

Dinner went well, for the most part.

You had one hand on your belly, the other wrapped around his fingers on the table. You were halfway through your chocolate mousse when Bakugou reached into his jacket pocket and slid something across the table.

“No,” you said slowly, setting your spoon down. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

He didn’t look smug at all, more like... hopeful.

Your brows furrowed. You reached for the passport, flipping it open.

There it was. His damn passport. Found. Intact. Stamped. His most recent picture was taken only a few months ago.

Yoh stared at it. Then at you. Then back at it again.

“…You found it?”

“Yup.”

“Where was it?”

He cleared his throat, gaze shifting to the side.

“…Behind the dresser in the guest room. Stuffed in that red envelope labeled ‘Important Shit,’ which you labeled in your handwriting, by the way.”

You paused. Your cheeks puffed again as your lips turned downward in the softest pout he’d ever seen. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, spoon idle.

“You’re really gonna go?”

“I want to,” he admitted. “But I don’t wanna leave you pissed off and lonely, either.”

You didn’t say anything at first. Just poked at your mousse with your spoon. Your lashes were low, and he could tell you were struggling. Not angry, just…sad.

Finally, you said, “It’s just one. It’s just one anniversary. We’ll have dozens more, right?”

“We will. We’ll have centuries more.”

“…And you’ll video call me. Every day.”

“Morning and night.”

“And text me when you land. And when you eat. And when you leave the venue. And—”

Bakugou reached across the table and tugged gently at your hand. His hands are rough against yours, but they’re filled with sincerity and utmost love that a man could give to his wife.

“Hey.”

You looked up.

His voice softened.

“Seriously, d’ya think I’d leave you without a plan?”

You blinked.

“I’m leavin’ you flowers and your cake. I told Kirishima to drop off that spa basket thing you said you wanted last month. And your mom’s stayin’ over the night of. I made sure. I even stocked the fridge.”

Your mouth parted slightly, tilting your head to the side. “You…did all that?”

“Yeah.” He looked almost bashful now, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t want you to think I forgot. Even if I ain’t here physically. I’m still here.”

Your eyes shimmered just a bit. A good sign, Bakugou notes.

Then you smiled—soft and tired and affectionate.

“God, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Tch. Don’t cry. I’ll look like an asshole.”

You laughed then, nose crinkling. “You are an asshole. But a sweet one.”

“Yeah, you love me.”

“I do.”

You two didn’t talk about the passport again that night. Not after that.

Instead, you finished dessert. Slowly. Your hand stayed in his the whole time.

When you walked out of the restaurant, he kept his arm around your shoulders, guiding you carefully down the steps like you were made of glass. You leaned into him, soft and warm, your belly pressing into his side.

And when they got home, you told him, “Let’s open the anniversary cake early.”

He didn’t say no. Not when you looked that happy. It doesn’t matter that he’s already full from the chocolate mousse you two had earlier.

When night finally settled, and Bakugou’s wiping the excess frosting off the corners of your lips with a napkin, he hears you say, “Come home soon, okay?”

He nodded, then softly kissed the crown of your head.

“Always.”

Always come home to you.

The morning of Bakugou’s flight started earlier than usual.

He had been up before the alarm even went off, brushing his teeth with the kind of intensity that only came from years of military-grade discipline… or nerves (also because he wants all bad germs on his mouth to die). Not that he’d ever admit to the latter. He stood in front of the mirror, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling from the hot shower as he stared at his reflection.

This was it. The day he was supposed to fly out to Korea.

Except—he wasn’t going.

Not really.

He’d made his decision last night, somewhere between the weight of your hug and the feel of your heartbeat against his body when you fell asleep on his chest. The moment you started snoring softly, your nose slightly buried in his shirt, he realized there was no way in hell he was getting on that plane.

Not this time.

But you didn’t need to know that just yet.

Because if there was one thing Bakugou knew about his wife, it was that you’d throw a fit if he skipped a life-changing professional opportunity just to spend your anniversary folding baby laundry and rubbing your swollen ankles. Plus, he knew you’d never allow him to stay. And if you knew he was lying about leaving, you’d huff and puff until he actually made him go.

So, he planned ahead. Like a goddamn mastermind.

By the time you woke up—slightly groggy with pillow lines on your cheek—he had already “packed.” His suitcase was zipped shut and positioned neatly by the door. His travel duffle bag sat upright next to it. His travel documents were tucked inside an envelope labeled “Do Not Open Unless Emergency.” (Totally blank inside.)

You blinked at him sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you waddled into the living room in his oversized T-shirt. One of the many shirts he was sure was missing from his closet.

“You already packed?” you murmured, voice small and pouty.

He turned from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. Acting too nonchalant to not give anything away.

“Yeah,” he said. “Didn’t wanna rush.”

You crossed your arms over your bump. “It’s only a three-hour flight, Katsuki. Not an expedition to the Arctic.”

“Still gotta prep,” he said, biting back a grin.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, but the smell of something sweet distracted you. Bingo.

He stepped aside, revealing a neatly arranged dessert box sitting on the counter. Inside: four of your favorites—strawberry shortcake with extra whipped cream, a slice of creamy Basque burnt cheesecake, a generous portion of tiramisu, and your current obsession: mango sticky rice.

“You bought me desserts?” you awed.

“I bought you a stack,” he corrected. “Don’t think I don’t know you get all sad and start craving sugar when I leave.”

You scoffed. “I do not.”

“You do,” he said, crossing his arms smugly. “You pouted so hard last time I left, I came back to find the fridge empty and you passed out with a half-eaten ice cream tub on the couch.”

“That was one time!”

“And I’m not takin’ chances.”

He bent forward, pressed a kiss to your cheek, then to your rounded belly. “Eat well. Don’t lift anything heavy. Text me when you’re sleepy. I’ll land by lunch. Kirishima’s already on the way, but it’ll take a while because of traffic since the bridge is getting repaired.”

“You’re acting suspicious,” you said, frowning as you clung to his shirt. “You never say goodbye this… nicely.”

“That’s rude,” he muttered. “I’m always nice.”

“No, you’re normally grumpy and say something like, ‘Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.’”

He smirked. You weren’t wrong entirely.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna come back to find out you’ve cried over an empty dessert box.”

Your lip wobbled, and he kissed you again—softly this time, with an extra squeeze to your waist.

“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s just for two nights.”

He left around nine. Or at least, pretended to.

Instead of heading to the airport, he drove straight to his agency, parked in the underground garage, and holed up in his office. There was a bottle of juice in the mini fridge, emergency snacks in the bottom drawer, and an absurd number of congratulatory emails flooding his inbox that he ignored.

The hours ticked by slowly.

He checked his phone a dozen times. No calls. No texts. Just one blurry photo from you of the dessert box with the caption: You’re lucky I’m in a sugar coma right now. Or I’d be mad you left without triple kissing me goodbye.

He snorted.

Around lunchtime, he got restless. Then irritated.

Then, at exactly 1:00 P.M., he got in the car and drove home.

No warning.

No heads-up.

He half-expected you to be lounging in the living room, watching drama reruns and fanning yourself while complaining about heartburn. But when he pulled up the driveway and unlocked the front door—

The house was suspiciously quiet.

His brows pulled together.

“[Name]?” he called out, stepping in.

Nothing.

He frowned and shut the door behind him, stepping out of his boots. He heard a thud from the back hallway. Then a low grunt. A shuffle.

His eyes narrowed.

Then he heard you muttering.

“Come on, come on, I’m not that heavy—”

He rounded the corner—and stopped cold.

There you were.

Standing in the hallway. Sweaty. Red-faced. Holding a large box half your size with both hands, your bump barely giving you enough room to balance it. Your lip was caught between your teeth as you struggled to carry what was definitely one of the boxes he had explicitly labeled: Do Not Touch.

“…What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You screamed.

You literally screamed—jumping nearly out of your skin, eyes wide like you saw a ghost.

Or a burglar.

Or both, at this point.

“—Katsuki! I thought you were in Korea—what the hell—”

“Put the box down.”

“You can’t just walk in like that, I thought—I—”

“Put it down, [Name].”

You dropped it with a loud thunk, wobbling backward and grabbing your shoulders.

“Oh my god, I thought you were a home invader! I was ready to throw a candle at you—why are you back?!”

Bakugou marched toward you, still wide-eyed with a mixture of rage and pure panic. He can’t believe this at all. “More importantly, why the fuck are you lifting boxes?!”

“I was bored!”

“Bored? So you decided to tear a disc and pop a blood vessel?!”

“I didn’t tear anything! And it wasn’t heavy; it’s mostly baby blankets!”

He crouched down instantly to pick it up—still heavy, despite your excuses—and carried it to the nursery, grumbling the entire way. “Goddamn woman’s gonna give me a stroke,” he muttered, though there was never any heat in his words.

You waddled after him, still stunned.

“Wait. Why are you here?!”

“I never left.”

“You… what?”

“I stayed at the agency. Figured I’d come back after you thought I was gone. Catch you red-handed.”

“You liar!”

He turned toward you, his frustration subsiding.

“You’re not even a good liar! You went full fake goodbye mode this morning! You even left me mango sticky rice!”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I knew you’d snoop around and start being reckless the second you thought no one was watching.”

Your cheeks puffed up again. That damn pout.

“I was just nesting,” you mumbled.

“Nesting doesn’t involve deadlifting half a closet,” he shot back. “You promised you’d take it easy.”

“…I thought you were in Korea.”

“Yeah, well, again, surprise.”

You blinked up at him again, eyes soft now, overwhelmed. “…You really stayed just for me?”

When he sets the boxes down, he exhaled and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye. “You really thought I’d leave you alone on our anniversary? Pregnant? Carrying boxes? Eating dessert by yourself? What do you take me for? A shitty husband?”

You hit his chest weakly.

“You’re so unfair,” you muttered.

“I know,” he grinned. “And I love you.”

You melted then. Completely.

Wrapping your arms around him, your bump pressing into his stomach, you buried your face in his chest and whispered: “I love you too, you dramatic maniac.”

That night, there was no flight. No press. No conference.

Just takeout on the couch, your feet in his lap, mango sticky rice on your plate, and his hand splayed across your belly like a homecoming gift.

Bakugou may have missed a headline.

But he made the right choice.

And that mattered more.

More Posts from Dynaxplosion and Others

dynaxplosion

2 weeks ago

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki nearing his 40s, his muscles aching more than they did when he was freshly 20, the years of hard labor carved into every tendon and joint. his sandy blonde hair, once bright and wild, starting to show a few stubborn greys. he even grew stubble — coarse and scratchy — that leaves your skin burning when he kisses you.

and you'll complain about it, listing off reasons on your pretty, young, manicured fingers why he needs to shave, tapping each one against his chest. he'll just tilt his head, give you that lazy, lopsided smirk, and grunt a simple, "nah."

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki and the way he met you — this bright, pretty thing tucked away behind rows of blooms — when he ducked into a floral shop for a last-minute birthday gift for the old hag. how he saw you there, sleeves rolled up, soil caked on your delicate hands, loose strands of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, and how you just blew them away without a second thought — left him absolutely weak in the knees.

your laugh was brighter than any flower in that whole damn shop, and your eyes?

god, your eyes put every petal to shame.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who lingered way longer than he should have, asking the dumbest questions known to man about orchids, tulips, lilies, and roses, just so he could hear you talk. how you lit up at every answer, spilling all these little facts with that animated sparkle in your voice.

he didn't even like flowers.

but he liked you.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who kept coming back to that little shop for months after. at first, it was excuses — shitty ones, too. "forgot what kinda flowers she liked," he'd mutter. "need somethin' for a friend."

but pretty soon, there weren't any excuses left. he was just there, like clockwork, hanging on your every word, wrapped around your finger like some lovesick, pathetic mutt.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki whose hands are rough, calloused from decades of labor — decades that stretch back to before you were even born. big, scarred palms that make your soft skin feel like silk in comparison.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who takes a little longer to get out of bed in the mornings, always grumbling about his bad back, how he needs time to "get movin’."

but really, he just wants an excuse to pull you in close — press you flush against him, soak in the heat of you — and watch your pretty eyelashes flutter while you sleep.

and he has to be there when you wake up.

he needs to see those gorgeous eyes make sure they find him first thing in the morning.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who hadn't even thought about dating for years — too busy, too bitter, too tired — until he stumbled into you. all doe-eyed and sweet, so eager and fresh-faced you knocked the damn wind outta him.

made him awkward again, made him red-faced and desperate to impress you.

and all the boys you had before? college kids, jerks who only cared about frat parties and notches on their belts. they didn’t know the first thing about taking care of someone like you.

but katsuki did. he was older. more patient. rough around the edges, sure — but he knew how to make you feel good, how to take his time and worship you like you deserved.

getting there, though?

getting there was tricky.

you were both such messes, two bumbling, nervous idiots, fumbling around each other like awkward teenagers.

but god, it was worth it.

a/n: based on this request lmk if you guys are wanting to see more of this, masterlist link here. and tysm for 1k followers!

taglist: @xoxojisu @candiiee @luvseraphh @cvnt4him @soundtrqck @chlosology @lotusstarr @cupkiki @wokasiv @badslittlemuffin @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @gethexxed @moonstonejpg @pluto-9456 @wonubby @kye1aaazene @izukusfangirl @van9lla @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @bluemailhiot @luckybibucky @sk1ppy-art @d011yyxx @myths-and-ledgends @icanread-icantwrite @changkyunnnie @blue-birdie-bixch @aj1j @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation

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dynaxplosion

2 weeks ago

warm up redraw of top left drawing

circa 2019 ?

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dynaxplosion

2 weeks ago

hello! So far you have made really good post, and it made me think, what if you made one about bakugou x y/n, they JUST started making out and started this thing where after class and even the cafeteria hours they would go to the roof top and make out, and then come back to class and act like nothing ever happened. Also somtimes he would throw a paper and secretly desk her under the desk where they would meet up. 😍

when katsuki wants to make out during class

something soft hit your back, causing some giggles to be heard from around you. you raised your eyebrow, and when mister aizawa faced the chalkboard, you turned around to see nothing. a hand waved in front of your face, kaminari’s hand, to be exact, and his finger then pointed at the ground.

a crumpled-up ball of paper lay on the ground, so you bent over to grab it, opening the paper under your desk. maybe it had something in it. on on page, nothing was there, so you turned it to see the words ‘ask to fill up your water bottle’ with a little explosion drawing at the end, which is how you figured out it was katsuki who wrote the note.

you grinned and raised your hand, throwing the paper into your backpack.

mister aizawa finally turned back to you and asked, “yes?”

“can i please fill up my water bottle?” you held it up and shook it, and when no sloshing around was heard, he nodded.

you picked it up and walked outside the classroom, katsuki soon followed behind after he asked to go to the bathroom. he stomped after you, placing your water bottle next to the fountain before giving you a sly smile and gripping your hip. he shoved his lips onto yours and softly groaned, kissing you repeatedly, strings of saliva still connecting your lips after parting for a short period.

he lifted up your thigh, pressing it against his hip as he continued to kiss you. words haven’t even been spoken yet, but it was clear what the two of you needed.

even after that, he continued to ask you to leave during class or lunch to spend time with you. he didn’t just love you for your body, he didn’t just want pleasure, he wanted you as a person. katsuki knew he wasn’t good at expressing his emotions or love for people in a healthy way, but this was the only way he felt he could do it. it would always leave the two of you breathless, red, and even more in love.

to him, this was one of the most intimate acts someone could do, and he loved you with his whole soul. he never regretted skipping class to make out with you, besides when you heard a loud yell and chuckle from someone across the hall.

an annoyingly familiar voice rang in your ears, “hey, class 1-a! did you know two of your students, bakugo and l/n skip class just to make out in the halls?” monoma loudly chuckled, “class 1-b would never—“

he would always be smacked in the head by kendo, who would apologize and ‘leave the two of you be.’

that was one of the only times katsuki had felt embarrassed after making out with you.

hope you enjoyed this! i’m so happy you love my writing, your compliments mean the world to me. also, i gained around seven asks in one night so im trying to catch up, i apologize that i am not posting as often

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dynaxplosion

3 weeks ago

pressure to party // katsuki bakugou

when he clearly has a favorite roommate

a/n: so there was indeed supposed to be a written portion with this but it was too srs n i just needed to make something silly <\3 roomie kats in my brain is sssssoooooooooooooo rated r i think i would go crazy

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg @twoplayergaymers @simp-plague @xvilluis @haruhi269 @starliightfiend @k0z3me @straows

katsuki tag: @bitchyfestivalbouquet @kaldurahms-lover

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dynaxplosion

2 weeks ago

YESSSS

Reminder that yall's selfships are all canon

Like they're literally ur canon gf / wife

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dynaxplosion

2 weeks ago

𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

summary: in a land where marriage is set in stone at birth and love is but a myth, a girl tries her best to navigate the life she’s been born into. when her father assigns her own knight, somebody he trusts to look after her in these dangerous times, nobody would have expected the brave young soldier to twist her story with his, taking your life into a spin that was unforeseen by the fates.

pairing: bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: forbidden love, royalty au, strangers to friends to lovers, comfort, mild angst, fluff

warnings: mdni 18+, all characters are aged up, detailed sex, heavy making out, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, a little bit of a hand job, grinding, all the works lmao, mentions of depressive thoughts, nothing too explicit

notes: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

as always, thank you so much @jadeisthirsting for beta reading this and helping me throughout this fic!

mha masterlist

The bazaars of Afrasiab were unlike any other, and they dimmed in comparison to what the mind could imagine. All of the land in Persia held its animosity, a secret that can only be revealed by sight, but the bazaars there were something no tongue could describe and no ear to relay correctly.

They smelled of lamb and beef kabobs, cooked to perfection, began wafting around the carts of fabrics early in the morning. The mountains of spices were perfectly balanced in their own little plates, laying undisrupted until they caught the eye of curious passersby.

Many streets carried deep underground, for when the bazaar needed continuing and couldn’t be held entirely on top, and the hidden passages held wonders unknown to man.

Unfortunately, however, for somebody seeing these bustling markets for the first time, they tended to be confusing to figure out at the least, and nearly impossible to navigate most of the time.

The young woman who traveled closely with his cloak perched over her head tried to wind through the serpentine stalls, keeping his chin close to her chest as she only watched through the corners of her eyes, careful not to bring attention to herself nor the satchel in her hand. It was all so new to her, every sight she was intaking a far cry from what she was accustomed to seeing. The faint cries of the salesman trying to sell his silver tableware or the santur being played somewhere distant was an overload to somebody who was used to the strange serenity the palace offered.

Everything was a sight to behold. She never came to buy something, only to see. She liked the way this place almost had its own separate language, how it awoke at dawn and never seemed to sleep. She loved how the shopkeepers, always respectful of one another in their boundaries, tried their best to outdo one another in favor of better business.

The way someone shouted to gain the attention of somebody, the way they laced their words with enough enthusiasm to keep the shoppers interested was something she never grew tired of. In comparison to the bleak life that was awaiting her when she got back, these little bits of excitement were enough enrichment to keep her going for a little bit longer.

She took it all in, enjoying the opportunity as she doubted it’d be trusted upon her again, and smiled to herself at the mosaics that lined the curved walls, the dim light the candles offered helped her navigate through the underground bazaar. She looked through all the silverware, the plates painted with utmost care.

She looked through and let her fingers graze above the satin fabrics all dyed a different color. The smells of turmeric and saffron flooded her nose, mixing with the occasional whiff of rose, and she felt as though all these things at once were too compelling alone for a human mind.

No stories nor descriptions could have prepared her for what she was going to experience. It was magical, something surely out of a book. Despite that, however, every minute she spent trying to enjoy the sights was another minute that clicked in her mind mentally.

“Oi,” A gruff voice snapped, jolting her rudely out of her ongoing daydream, “Watch it.”

Keep reading

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dynaxplosion

3 weeks ago

yapper reader x listener katsuki

notes: grumpy x sunshine also. basically just yap yap yap reader and bro stfu katsuki. based on some prompt i remember seeing forever ago. deviating from my usual 'reader and katsuki childhood friends go to ua tg' bc this is such a cute idea

the field is buzzing, students from different hero schools gathering in small groups and instructors calling out over the noise generating quite the racket. there’s tension, excitement, and a bit of rivalry in the air. class 1-a stands off to the side, eyes scanning the new arrivals. bakugo stands isolated from the group with his arms crossed, mouth already in a deep scowl.

he hates group exercises. hates surprise training simulations. hates-

“katsuki!!”

and then it happens.

a blur comes flying in from the other side of the field. he hears it before he sees it, and by the time he turns his head, it’s too late. you launch yourself at him from behind, tackling him in a full-body hug that actually makes him take a step forward. his body tenses immediately, hands twitching instinctively like he might throw you off-

but he doesn’t. he would never.

“kats! kats!” you giggle, climbing halfway up his back like he’s your personal jungle gym. you hook your chin over his shoulder, big goofy grin stretching across your face as you hug him tight. “hi!!”

there’s a long pause. bakugo doesn’t move. doesn’t shout. doesn’t blow anything up. the whole world stills in suspense.

eventually, he sighs, a hint of a not-angry expression present on his face. "hi."

“uh… are we… seeing this?” kirishima says under his breath, eyes wide.

“kats, i swear, it feels like it’s been forever since i’ve seen you! i mean, seriously, how is it that we’re both doing this hero thing and still barely getting any time to hang out? it’s like the universe just hates us or something. i’ve been stuck in this crazy hellfire intensity training like all week, and it’s not even the fun kind, it’s just endless drills and lectures and like ugh ohmygod, i’m so over it. anyway, i missed you kats!! how are you? healthy? well? making friends? wait, who am i kidding. youre definitely healthy because youre like a health-conscious old man, and definitely no friends."

you’re talking so fast he doesn’t have time to respond to anything. he just stares down at you, not saying a word or moving an inch.

eventually, he reaches out, drops a heavy hand onto your head, and mutters, “shut up.”

you beam like he just handed you flowers. “there he is,” you giggle, grabbing his arm and hugging it to your chest. “so grumpy. so cute. i miiiissed you!”

he grumbles something pissy under his breath, but makes no move to pull away.

aizawa’s voice cuts through the air. “pair off.”

despite you already hanging on him, bakugo grabs you immediately. “we’re teaming up.”

“wait, what?” mina says from behind him. “you’re not gonna work with us?”

“we’re teaming up,” he snaps again, louder this time, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“but you always-”

“shut up. all of you. shut. the fuck. up.”

you’re already bouncing beside him, eyes bright. “oh my god, kats, i have so many ideas. okay, okay—what if you blow a hole in the wall and you know how i texted you last week about that new feature on my costume? i could use that to- wait! or we could climb over the roof and-”

“you talk too much,” he mutters, dragging you along gently despite his annoyed expression.

“you love it,” you sing, completely unbothered.

he doesn’t answer.

but the tiniest corner of his mouth tugs up.

masterlist

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dynaxplosion

2 weeks ago

𝑻𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒌 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒅

— 𝒀/𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊. 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒚.

⋆☆　 katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆　warning : swearing , sexual talk , mention of pounding , fluff , drabble

•❣•୨୧　wc : 990

-ˋˏ authors note : 2 stories in 1 day!!! This idea popped up when I got home from college. anyways! let me know if I missed anything !!! Enjoy !!!

It was a regular day, and Katsuki was at home, seated at the dining table, as he worked through reports from yesterday's mission. Focused and serious, he barely looked up from the papers in front of him. Upstairs in their shared bedroom, Y/n lay sprawled on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok out of boredom.

As she swiped through videos, one in particular caught her attention—a girl asking her boyfriend to take off her bra, and the way he smoothly unhooked it made her giggle. An idea sparked. Why not try it on Katsuki? With a mischievous smile, Y/n sat up, taking off her shirt, only wearing her bra. She headed downstairs, calling out, "Katsuki?" He didn’t look up. “Hmm?” he hummed distractedly, still buried in paperwork. “I wanna see how fast you can take off my bra,” Y/n said, tilting her head with a teasing smile. Katsuki finally looked up, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?” “Uh… I saw this trend on TikTok,” she explained, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “A girl asked her boyfriend to take off her bra to see how fast he could do it…” She trailed off, embarrassed. Katsuki stared at her for a moment, stress etched all over his face. “No,” he said flatly, turning back to his paperwork. “Katsukiiiiii!” Y/n whined, grabbing his shoulders and giving them a playful shake. “ ’m not doing ya dumb TikTok trends,” he grumbled. “You don’t love me,” she pouted dramatically. “Never said that, woman,” he muttered, glancing back at her. “Please, Katsu—just this once? I swear I’ll stop after!” He sighed sharply. “No.” “But—” Without another word, Katsuki stood up in front of her, his arms went behind and with one swift motion, unhooked the bra like a pro. It slipped off and fell to the floor, leaving Y/n stunned—and topless. “Katsuki!” she shrieked, covering her chest. “What now?” he asked, deadpan. “That was too fast!” she said, eyes wide.

“What? Ya told me to do it. So why’re ya complaining, woman?” Katsuki asked, his tone flat and unbothered. Y/n, still in shock, stared at him. “How did you unhook it so fast?!” Katsuki glanced at her briefly before plopping back down in his chair and returning to his reports, completely ignoring her flustered reaction. “Katsuki!” she called out again, pouting. “Seriously, how did you do it that fast? Be honest—have you done this before? With other girls?” She crossed her arms, sulking now, suspicion creeping into her voice. Katsuki froze and whipped his head around. “Huh?! Are ya serious right now?” Irritation written all over his face. “Ya already know ya were my first, so don’t start spouting shit like that, woman.” Y/n stayed quiet, still pouting as she looked away, clearly not over the shock of his move. "My boyfriend of four years is out here having sexual encounters with other women..." Y/n muttered dramatically before flopping onto the couch in defeat. Katsuki let out a deep sigh, setting his reports aside and walking into the living room. He crouched in front of her, bringing his face close to hers. “Princess, stop,” he said softly.

“Ya already know I’m yers. So why the hell are ya sayin’ stupid shit like that?” His voice was gentle, even if he wasn’t the best with words. “I love ya. Only ya.” Y/n turned her head away, still pouting. “No, you don’t.” Katsuki groaned quietly before gently turning her face back toward him and placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love every part of ya,” he said, voice low and sincere. “The way ya body fits perfectly against mine… the way ya hand slips right into mine like it was made for it. I don’t want anyone else. Just ya.” He kissed her again, firmer this time, and Y/n squirmed slightly, trying to hide the blush blooming across her cheeks. "Stop making excuses," Y/n muttered, pulling away from the kiss. Katsuki smirked. “Then maybe I should find someone new, huh?” Y/n immediately sat up, eyes narrowed. “No, you are not.” He laughed at her reaction. “What? Didn’t ya just say I don’t love ya?” “Katsuki!” she huffed, smacking his shoulder. He just kept laughing. “Go put ya bra back on before I lose the last bit of restraint I’ve got,” he growled, eyes flicking down to her bare chest. “Then do it—if you love me,” she challenged, arms crossed. Before she could react, a firm smack landed on her butt, making her yelp. “Ow! Katsuki, that hurt,” she winced, rubbing the spot. “Ya say that, but ya like it more when we’re in bed, don’t ya?” he shot back with a raised brow. “Ugh, you’re such a pain,” she grumbled, turning to head upstairs. “Hurry up, I’ll be up there in a sec,” he called after her, pointing toward the stairs. “You’re disgusting,” she said, tossing him a fake-disgusted look as she paused in front of him. Katsuki leaned in, grinning.

“Ya won’t be sayin’ that when my cock is pounding the fuck out of ya, takin’ my time devouring every inch.” Y/n gave him an exaggerated look of horror. “I feel violated.” “Shut up and get upstairs,” he laughed, swatting her butt again as she squealed and ran off giggling. “Damn woman’s a whole headache,” he muttered fondly, picking up her bra from the floor. With a chuckle, he switched off the lights and followed her upstairs into their shared bedroom.

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dynaxplosion

3 weeks ago

kiaaa so I have a question I just saw this in tiktok https://www.tiktok.com/@lita5201314/video/7479405030550899975?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc and..how would katsuki react if this happened? not a request but i couldnt stop imagining katsuki just panicking and reader just dumfounded by what happpened :)

you’re in the kitchen, bent over to grab a fallen spoon, completely unaware of the menace behind you.

katsuki has that look in his eye—the one he always gets when you're in leggings and he's feeling handsy. you’d been teasing him all morning, walking around in one of his old shirts, humming to yourself like you didn’t know what you were doing.

so he stalks up behind you, raises a hand, aims to give you a firm smack on the ass—

smack!

but you move. and instead of ass, he clocks the back of your head.

you yelp, stumbling forward a little, hand flying up to cradle your skull. “ow?!”

katsuki freezes, eyes going wide with horror like he just accidentally took out a toddler with a dodgeball.

“shit—baby—fuck.”

he drops his hand like it betrayed him and rushes up to you immediately, hands already hovering around your face like he’s checking for trauma.

“you good? you dizzy? need water?? i didn’t mean to hit your damn head, i swear—”

you’re laughing so hard you’re almost crying, which only deepens his panic.

“don’t laugh—fuck, you’re concussed, aren’t you?” he mutters, tucking your hair behind your ear, squinting at your pupils like he’s a damn emt. “you feelin’ lightheaded? babe? say your name. what year is it? who’s the fuckin’ president—”

“katsuki,” you manage between giggles. “i’m fine.”

“you sure?” he’s still frowning, hands bracing your cheeks now, eyes scanning your expression for any sign of damage. “fuck, i was just tryin’ to smack that perfect ass and i—dammit."

he cups your face gently, inspecting you like a worried dad. “you’re not bleedin’, right? fucking hell, woman. thought i scrambled your brain.”

you’re still giggling when he wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing soft, apologetic kisses to your temple.

“i was just tryna smack your ass,” he mumbles, nose buried in your hair.

“you missed.”

“yeah, thanks, i noticed,” he clutches you like you’re made of glass, one hand gently rubbing where he hit you. “i’m gonna sue myself. this is abuse. i’m the problem.”

you wheeze. “i think i saw stars.”

“don’t joke right now,” he deadpans, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, still cradling it like you’re his fragile little egg.

“i’m never touchin’ your ass again.”

you snort. “don’t lie to me.”

“…yeah, okay. maybe in like ten minutes.”

he mutters something about “next time i’m aiming lower.”

but he still pulls you into his lap on the kitchen floor and kisses the crown of your head, like he’s trying to make it better.

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

585 notes View Post

dynaxplosion

2 weeks ago

Competitive bakugo over a nonchalant y/n😏😏😏😏

competitive katsuki trying to win over nonchalant reader

everyone knew bakugo was competitive, always trying his best and fighting the hardest, no matter who he was against or what situation he was in. he always gave it his all. however, he thought he could do nearly everything on his own, he was incredibly independent, even hating it when people tried to help him with something, not wanting others to see him as weak.

but he did what he had done since middle school; put other people down to make himself feel better. unfortunately, you and midoriya were victims of it, but the two of you had very different reactions.

midoriya was always nervous to stand up for himself until a few months ago, when he became more confident in his abilities, which you applauded him for. bakugo, on the other hand, also made fun of you for god knows what. it was never for a specific reason, just picking on you because he didn’t know how to deal with his feelings for you.

but he was always frustrated with how you’d react. normally, after he would laugh and point a finger at you, you would just shrug and walk over to your friend, talking to them with an emotionless tone. he’d follow you, yell at you, just for you to do it all over again. he hated how you didn’t react in any sort of way.

so when the two of you sparred, and he won a match, he would yell and brag about it, calling you a sore loser and smirking in your face. you responded, looking at a nearby wall for a second, “good job, i guess.”

he frowned, “you guess? what the hell do you mean ‘i guess?’ you lost fair and square, y/n!”

you hummed and shrugged, causing him to march up to you with a scowl. he asked, “why do you always act so damn calm? cry or smile or feel emotions for once! you’re acting like icy hot!”

“i do feel emotions, bakugo, i just don’t show them that well. you should learn from me and be calmer, it especially helps in fights.” you almost smirked at the end, teasing him.

he grumbled, “teach me then.”

you raised your eyebrow and hesitantly asked, “really?” you didn’t believe him, assuming it was a trick.

“yes, dumbass. and call me katsuki or whatever, i don’t care.”

“seems like you do care if you’re correcting me.” you retorted, tilting your head and looking up at him.

the tips of his ears pinkened, and his face felt warmer than usual. he grumbled, “shut the hell up,” and used a small explosion near your feet, causing the ground to rumble underneath you.

of course, katsuki didn’t realize his reactions were very readable, and how dark his cheeks became once you teased him.

hope you liked this, it was fun to write!

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