Instruction🦢☁️

Bhna masterlist♡

Not everything is on here! It's stil updating!

Boys

Class 1a

Bakugo

"The disaster talk"

They watched the video

The truth bomb

Family Dinner (aka the acacolypse)

The Janitor’s Closet incident

Explosive Delivery

Explosions of the heart

Thin Walls- no restraint

Red Marks red faces

No Time Like a Bad time

Explosive Love: Part 2 – Babysitter Bakugo

Kirishima

Red Riot meet your Sidekick

Explosive Love (Literally)

Deku

In his arms

Explosive Love: Part 3 – Baby's Day Out (with Deku & Todoroki

Sero

Explosive Love: Part 5 – Sero & Denki: Bros vs Baby Bom

Denki

💛 Static hearts

Explosive Love: Part 5 – Sero & Denki: Bros vs Baby Bom

Shoto

Explosive Love: Part 3 – Baby's Day Out (with Deku & Todoroki

More to come!

Girls

Uraraka

Jirou

Momo

Tsuui

Mina

Explosive Love: Part 4 – Mina’s Turn (And She’s Ready for War)

Hagakure

More to come!

Pro heroes

Boys

Present mic

Aizawa

“Head Trauma? Never Heard of Her”

Hawks

Just a Flesh Wound bro

"First Flight"

“Hero Duty Never Sleeps”

More to come!

Girls

Midnight

“Head Trauma? Never Heard of Her”

Mirko

Mt. Lady

Just a Flesh Wound bro

More to come!

Villains

Boys

Shigaraki

Dabi

Twice

Overhaul

Girls

Toga

Magne

Lady nagant

No Time Like a Bad Time

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

Rating: Mature / Explicit (soft smut, implied sex)

Setting: Bakugo's bedroom, evening

Tags: NSFW, semi-public risk, parental interruption, heavy makeout, implied penetration, humor

---

You never made it to the bed.

Your back was against his bedroom wall, legs around his waist, shirt lost somewhere near the door. Bakugo’s mouth was hot and possessive, hands rough as they slid up your thighs, pushing your underwear aside without a second thought.

“Couldn’t wait,” he growled, voice hoarse as he pressed his hips forward, teasing you with slow, maddening friction. “You come over lookin’ like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

You moaned into his neck, fingers tangled in his hair. “We’re gonna get caught…”

“Don’t care.” His hand slipped between your bodies, and the next thing you knew, he was inside you in one slow, claiming thrust.

Your breath hitched, head falling back against the wall as he rocked into you, steady and deep. “Fuck,” you whispered, digging your nails into his shoulders. “Katsuki…”

“That’s right,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Say my name again.”

You were gasping against his mouth, trying to keep quiet, trying and failing. The heat between you was dizzying, his breath ragged in your ear, the sound of skin on skin filling the room—

And then the door slammed open.

“Hey, Katsuki, have you—”

Mitsuki’s voice froze mid-sentence.

You both froze too. Bakugo still inside you, your legs locked around him, his hand gripping your ass, both of you wide-eyed like deer in headlights.

Masaru’s horrified gasp came from behind her.

Bakugo didn’t even turn around. He just rested his forehead on your shoulder and let out the most exhausted sigh of his life. “…Fucking hell.”

You scrambled to yank the nearest blanket off the bed to cover yourself, but there was no real saving this moment.

Mitsuki’s scream could’ve shattered glass. “ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?! IN MY HOUSE?! WHILE I’M HOME?! WHAT THE FUCK, KATSUKI?!”

Masaru was already halfway down the hall, muttering something about trauma and therapy.

“OUT!” Bakugo barked, voice cracking like an explosion. “GET OUT!”

“YOU BETTER BE USING A CONDOM!” she shrieked before slamming the door shut with enough force to shake the walls.

Silence.

You blinked up at Bakugo, still inside you, still panting, both of you stunned into stillness.

“…So,” you said, barely able to look at him, “do we finish… or cry forever?”

He groaned. “Gimme ten seconds to reset my soul.”

---

You woke up in Bakugo’s bed tangled in sheets and shame.

The sunlight coming through the window was soft. The room still smelled faintly of sweat and skin and sex. Katsuki was still asleep, one arm draped lazily across your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

You considered pretending you were dead. That seemed easier than walking downstairs and facing the two people who had literally walked in on you mid-thrust less than twelve hours ago.

But then—like a horror movie jump scare—you heard Mitsuki yell from downstairs:

“BREAKFAST’S READY, YOU TWO! AND YOU BETTER COME DOWN FULLY DRESSED!”

Bakugo groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. “Nope. I’m faking my death. Tell my mom I’m gone. Left the country.”

You shoved his shoulder. “We have to go. If we don’t, it’ll somehow get worse.”

“I literally had my dick out when she walked in. It can’t get worse.”

You were wrong.

It got worse.

The moment you stepped into the kitchen, Masaru nearly choked on his coffee and refused to make eye contact with either of you. Bakugo kept his head down like a dog in trouble. You sat across from Mitsuki, who smirked like she’d been waiting her entire life for this moment.

“So…” she began, sipping her tea. “Did we have a good night?”

You choked on your juice.

Bakugo snapped, “MOM.”

“Oh relax. I’m not mad anymore,” she said cheerfully, piling eggs onto your plate. “Traumatized, sure. But it’s not like I didn’t know my son was sexually active. He’s loud enough when you’re not here.”

Masaru made a whimpering noise and physically left the room.

You wanted to melt into the chair and disappear.

“Katsuki, I hope you’re not just going at it raw like some idiot. I didn’t raise a dumbass.”

“I—what the hell kind of conversation is this?” Bakugo snapped, ears red. “Stop talking about my dick at the breakfast table!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t been using it in front of me!” she shot back.

You slowly, silently put down your fork. “I’m… gonna go. Pack my stuff. Change my name. Maybe flee the country.”

Mitsuki smiled sweetly. “Take your time, sweetheart. You were excellent under pressure.”

You didn’t come back for breakfast again for two months.

I pray for you🙏

🆂🆃🅰🆁🆅🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽 ⚰

From the heart of unimaginable suffering, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has supported my family 🙏🏻

Right now, famine is hitting us harder than ever, my heart cries whenever I go to the market to buy any basic necessities! The prices are crazy, and most days my children survive on just bread Hunger and thirst are destroying us, and cooking on fire increases our suffering unbearably! Severe eye and chest sensitivity, in addition to constant stomach pain due to the type of food and the way it is cooked.

All this while we flee from one place to another in fear of bombing, bullets, and imminent danger! I cannot describe what I feel, but it is a feeling beyond exhaustion!

Despite the exhaustion, your support gives us strength and I hope you will not let us down

If you can donate, please do so, or at least help us by sharing, so we can reach those who can

Your kindness truly keeps us going

>> Our campaign is vetted by gazavetters list at Momen & his family

gofundme.com

Donate to Help my family rise from the ashes, organized by Tahir Awad

Hello Everyone, I am Nour Al Madhoun, 30 years old, a computer engineer from gaza, my h… Tahir Awad needs your support for Help my family r

Gaza is full of oppression #The worst is yet to come #Genocide #A resilient people

“The Original Disaster Talk”

Teen!Bakugo x Mitsuki Bakugo (his mom)

Tags: Humor, Embarrassing Parenting, Family Chaos, Origin Story

---

There are a few moments in every man’s life that leave a permanent scar.

For Katsuki Bakugo, age 13, that moment came on a random Tuesday afternoon.

He’d just gotten home from school, stormed upstairs like he always did, and was about to open incognito mode for very educational purposes when he heard the knock.

“Oi, Katsuki,” came the voice of Mitsuki Bakugo, aka his mom, aka a hurricane in heels. “We need to talk.”

Bakugo blinked, suspicious. “About what?”

She opened the door before he could protest.

“You’re gettin’ taller. You’re smellin’ worse. And you’ve been hogging the bathroom like you’re hiding a whole-ass relationship in there,” she said, arms crossed.

Bakugo’s soul left his body. “W-what?! No, I haven’t—what are you talking about?!”

“Puberty, dumbass,” she snapped. “It’s happening. I’m not letting your sweaty little teenage man-hormones wreck this house without a warning.”

He turned bright red. “I DON’T HAVE MAN-HORMONES!”

“Bullshit,” Mitsuki said, tossing a pamphlet onto his bed titled “So You’re Growing Hair There, Huh?”

Bakugo stared at it in horror. “What the hell is this?!”

“Your dad was too much of a coward to have this talk with you, so now it’s my job,” she said, sitting on the edge of his bed like this was a normal Tuesday. “Let’s start with the basics. Boners happen. Deal with it. You’re gonna get them at the worst possible times. Don’t point ‘em at people.”

“OH MY GOD,” Bakugo howled, grabbing a pillow and screaming into it.

Mitsuki continued unfazed. “If you’re gonna, y’know, touch yourself, do it in private. Wash your hands. Don’t get weird with socks. Don’t break the plumbing. Don’t google anything that ends with ‘hub’. And if I ever catch you lying about what you’re doing in the shower—”

“I’M NEVER SHOWERING AGAIN,” Bakugo yelled from under the pillow.

“—you will be grounded, and I will tell Auntie Inko.”

“PLEASE STOP TALKING!”

She stood, patting his head like she’d just taught him how to tie his shoes. “You’ll survive. Just remember: if something’s leaking or growing and you don’t know why, talk to a damn adult.”

Bakugo peeked out. “You’re the worst.”

She smirked. “You’ll thank me when you’re a dad and your kid starts cryin’ because of a math test and a surprise boner.”

He would not thank her.

Not for a long, long time.

---

End Scene

Thus began the generational trauma of Bakugo men being emotionally damaged by The Talk. And so, the legend lives on…

"They Watched The Video"

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Katsuki Bakugo

Genre: Comedy, Wholesome Aftermath, Secondhand Embarrassment, Uterus-Fueled Respect

Part 12 of the “Knock First, Damn It!” Series

---

It started in health class.

You got the warning note ahead of time. A little permission slip in Hana’s backpack that read:

> “This week, we will be viewing a short educational film on childbirth.”

You signed it.

Bakugo signed it too—then added “Godspeed” in the corner.

---

DAY OF THE VIDEO: 2:43 PM, SCHOOL HEALTH CLASS

Haruki (13) and Hana (12) sat side-by-side, trying to act like this was fine.

A projector flickered on.

A chipper narrator voice began:

> “Today, we’ll be learning about the miracle of life.”

It started out easy. Cute cartoon animations. Uplifting music.

Then it switched.

REAL FOOTAGE.

A woman. Labor. Screaming.

Close-ups. Angles that no one was ready for.

A head emerging where heads should not.

Haruki’s jaw dropped.

Hana gripped her desk like it was a lifeline.

Someone in the back whispered, “Is that LEGAL?!”

The video didn’t stop.

Tears. Blood. One midwife yelling, “ALMOST THERE!”

Hana went pale. “Why is she still screaming?! Why is it still coming out?!”

Haruki looked horrified. “There’s shoulders?!”

Another kid fainted.

By the time it ended, no one clapped. No one spoke.

The lights came on.

Silence.

Existential dread.

The teacher cheerfully asked, “Any questions?”

Haruki slowly raised a hand. “Yeah. Um. Can we take our moms out to dinner or something?”

---

LATER THAT NIGHT

You were cooking when the kids walked into the kitchen, eyes wide, forever changed.

Haruki walked up and hugged you. Full-body. Long. With meaning.

“…You okay?” you asked.

“You did that for me,” he whispered like a cult convert. “You’re a superhero.”

You blinked. “What… did they show you?”

“Everything.” Hana said, voice flat.

Bakugo peeked around the corner. “So. You saw it, huh?”

Haruki nodded slowly. “Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“…Did you WATCH Mom go through that?”

Bakugo took a long sip of tea. “Front row. Got hit in the face with a piece of placenta.”

Hana gagged.

Haruki looked like he was going to cry again. “I can’t believe you survived that.”

You smiled. “It’s part of the job.”

Haruki saluted. “Respectfully? I will never raise my voice at you again. Ever.”

Bakugo smirked. “I been sayin’ she’s a badass.”

Hana bowed. “I’m gonna do your chores for the week. Just because.”

You nodded like a queen.

“…Also,” Haruki added, “I might be abstinent until I’m thirty.”

Bakugo fist-pumped behind you.

hii. hope everything is well with you :)

if you’re not too busy can I request a shigaraki x online gamer friend reader. where he becomes friends with a random girl he met while playing league or something (modern au).

maybe even a meet up or something. tyyy!!

"Lagging Hearts"

Shigaraki Tomura wasn’t supposed to care about anyone online. He liked the distance. The screen, the anonymity, the safety of being just a name on a friend list. But then he queued up for a late-night ranked match in League of Legends, and everything started glitching—emotionally speaking.

He met you by chance. Your username—“Pix3lGrrl”—was the kind of cringe he'd usually block. But you locked in midlane fast, started typing callouts in team chat like a drill sergeant, and your sarcasm matched his beat for beat.

“Garen support? Wow. Peak performance,” you typed.

He smirked. Okay, maybe she’s not awful.

One game became three. Then ten. Then nightly Discord calls. You tilted like a pro, cursed like a sailor, and still somehow made him laugh when his fingers were twitching to decay the world.

“You ever stop touching your face when you’re mad?” you teased during a losing streak.

He choked on his soda. “How the hell do you know that?”

“You always stop talking right before you screw up a teamfight. It’s, like, your rage silence.”

He didn’t reply right away. He was too busy… smiling?

—

Weeks passed. He didn’t tell you who he was—what he was. You didn’t ask. It was kind of perfect. The late-night games, the trash talk, your sleepy voice when it got too late and the ranked queue became ARAMs “just for fun.” He found himself waiting for the little Discord chime that said you were online like it was a drug.

One night, after a particularly nasty loss streak, you groaned, “I need a break. Let’s just talk.”

And he did. For hours.

You made him laugh so hard his screen shook. You called him “crusty king” and he didn’t even hate it. You told him about your cat, your weird neighbor, the way your keyboard was missing the F key but you were too lazy to fix it.

He thought about telling you. About his hands. His past. His real name.

Instead, he just asked, “Wanna queue again tomorrow?”

You replied instantly. “Always.”

—

He didn't know what this was—just a gamer friend or something dangerously close to real—but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like disconnecting.

---

It was your idea to meet.

“Well, technically,” you said, “I’m being bribed with bubble tea. But yeah. Let’s meet.”

Shigaraki stared at the message for a full minute. His thumb hovered over the reply button. He’d never seen your face, and you’d never seen his. It had been months now—countless games, DMs, weird late-night rants about anime betrayals and which champions needed nerfs.

He wasn’t ready.

But he said yes anyway.

—

You picked a little gaming café downtown. Neon lights. LED keyboards. The smell of instant noodles and too many Monster cans. You wore a hoodie, same as him, and your hair was a little messier than your Discord icon implied—but it was you. He knew it immediately.

You were sitting with a boba and a Switch, tapping your foot to some lo-fi remix. You looked up and smiled.

“Crusty King?” you teased.

He almost turned around and left.

Instead, he gave a dry little laugh and slid into the seat across from you. “Pix3lGrrl. Didn’t expect you to look so… normal.”

You arched a brow. “Thanks? Didn’t expect you to look like a villain from a dystopian anime.”

He froze.

Your smile faltered for half a second, and then you recovered. “Kidding. I mean—you’ve got the vibe. Grumpy, gray hair, twitchy fingers. Kind of hot, though.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You both sipped your drinks. Played a couple rounds of Smash on the café’s Switch dock. Laughed a lot. It felt almost like home. Like a weird dream.

But then you leaned in, really looked at him, and asked, “Hey… what do you do, anyway? You’ve never said.”

His hand twitched—just once. He quickly put it in his hoodie pocket. His mouth went dry.

“I… break things.”

You laughed. “Okay, edgy. What does that mean?”

He paused. Then whispered, “My name’s not really Ten.”

“Wait.” Your smile dimmed. “What?”

“I’m Tomura. Shigaraki Tomura.”

You went still.

You knew the name. Everybody did. The guy who vanished after the League crumbled. The one with a death count and a face like a warning sign.

You looked at him, really looked, and then said quietly, “And you… you play Jhin in ranked.”

He blinked. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

You smiled slowly, something tender and a little heartbroken. “You’ve got four kills, and I’m starting to think I’m one of them.”

He opened his mouth—but you held up a hand.

“I'm not running. Just… give me a sec to update my patch notes, alright?”

And then, in the same breath, you asked, “You still down to queue tonight?”

Explosive Love: Part 5 – Sero & Denki: Bros vs Baby Bomb

Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Babysitters Hanta Sero & Denki Kaminari

Genre: Chaotic Comedy, Tag-Team Disaster

Summary: They called themselves the “Ultimate Babysitter Duo.” They wore matching shirts. They brought snacks. They were so sure they’d nail it. But the baby had other plans… and Denki forgot to bring nose plugs.

---

“I don’t see the problem,” Denki said confidently as he adjusted his “BABY DUTY” headband.

“We’ve got this,” Sero agreed, tossing a roll of duct tape into the air and catching it like it was part of his combat gear. “Two pros. One baby. No fear.”

Kirishima opened the door, holding the baby like she was made of nitroglycerin.

“You guys sure you’re ready?” he asked for the tenth time.

“Dude,” Denki grinned, “we’ve babysat a cat before.”

“Yeah,” Sero added, “and that cat only pooped in Denki’s shoe once. So, like. We’re trained.”

You raised an eyebrow. “She’s... different.”

The baby gurgled sweetly.

FORESHADOWING INTENSIFIES

---

T+15 Minutes:

They were vibing. Music playing. Baby bouncing. Denki had given her a sparkly bow headband, and Sero was trying to teach her to high-five.

“This is easy,” Denki said, stretching out on the couch. “I think we’re naturally gifted.”

PFFFT.

The sound was small.

The smell was not.

Sero went still. “Was that… her?”

Denki waved his hand dramatically. “Whoa—why is it spicy?!”

The baby grinned and clapped. Like a tiny villain. A very proud one.

PHBRRRRTTTT.

Denki staggered back like he'd been shot. “THAT ONE HAD VIBRATION!!”

---

T+28 Minutes:

Denki was hiding behind the kitchen island.

“She’s targeting me,” he whispered into a banana, pretending it was a walkie-talkie.

Sero was kneeling on the couch with a blanket over his nose. “We’ve got gas, repeat, full gas zone! Operation Diaper Storm is a go!”

“Negative!” Denki cried. “I am NOT opening that containment zone!”

“YOU fed her the applesauce!”

“I didn’t know applesauce unlocked her final form!”

The baby squealed with laughter.

---

T+40 Minutes:

There was tape on the walls. Baby wipes scattered across the battlefield. Sero was trying to MacGyver a diaper disposal unit out of a trash can and a fan.

Denki was holding a candle like it was holy protection.

“She’s too powerful,” he muttered. “This baby runs on nuclear.”

“Not even All Might trained for this,” Sero whispered.

The baby let out a tiny, victorious toot.

Both men froze.

“Brace for impact.”

---

When you returned, you found Sero with clothespins on his nose and Denki wearing swimming goggles for no reason.

“She’s asleep,” Sero said weakly.

“But at what cost?” Denki added.

You scooped up your peacefully snoozing, deceptively innocent child.

Kirishima chuckled. “So… you guys wanna try again next week?”

They spoke in unison: “HELL. NO.”

---

Next up: Aizawa stops by to “observe.”

“Attack of the Morning Hair: Y/N vs. Gravity”

Or: The Day Her Hair Committed a War Crime

---

It started like any other peaceful morning in the UA dorms. Birds were chirping. Kaminari was already screaming because he shocked himself trying to toast bread. The usual.

Then came her.

The common room door swung open with the force of divine judgment, and in stumbled Y/N — half-asleep, wearing oversized socks, a hoodie that probably wasn’t hers (possibly Aizawa’s??), and…

Her. Hair.

Complete chaos.

Her bangs were standing completely straight up, like they’d seen something horrifying and never recovered. The rest of her long hair was sticking out in every direction, defying physics like it had just fought off a tornado and won.

It wasn’t just messy.

It was sentient.

Sero spat out his cereal. “WHAT IN THE—are you okay?!”

Y/N blinked, bleary-eyed, gripping a mug with nothing in it.

“…No.”

Bakugo actually paused mid-toast-chewing. “The hell happened to you?”

“I slept wrong.”

“That’s not sleep. That’s a spiritual possession,” Jirou muttered, genuinely concerned.

Todoroki tilted his head. “Is it supposed to… be like that?”

Y/N scratched her head, making it worse. A piece of hair slapped her in the face. “I don’t know. It was normal last night. Then I woke up and looked in the mirror and it was like—”

She held up her mug like a Shakespearean actor.

“—I HAVE SEEN THINGS. I HAVE BEEN THROUGH BATTLES.”

Mina was wheezing. “Girl, your bangs are standing straighter than Iida’s moral compass.”

“I thought it was a bird nest at first,” Kaminari whispered to Kirishima. “I almost offered her sunflower seeds.”

Midoriya approached gently, like she might explode. “D-Do you want help detangling it?”

“I think it’s sentient now,” Y/N muttered. “If you touch it, it might bite.”

“I bet Present Mic’s hair bowed in respect when it saw yours,” Sero added.

Y/N slowly turned her head, her bangs refusing to move like a stiff wind couldn’t touch them. “They said if your hair touches the ceiling, it’s good luck.”

Momo was trying not to laugh but failed. “What ceiling? You’ve breached airspace. You’re legally an aircraft.”

Then—Midnight walked in.

She stopped in her tracks. Stared. Then, with the most serious voice she could manage:

“…You look like the final boss of a shampoo commercial gone wrong.”

Y/N raised one eyebrow. “Or the main character of an edgy anime where my quirk is just being really dramatic.”

“Name it,” Kaminari begged. “Name the anime.”

“‘Frizz: The Reckoning.’”

Bakugo started laughing so hard he had to turn around. “I take it back. You’re not a villain. You’re just unholy.”

“Should I put it in a bun?” Y/N asked, attempting to gather the chaos.

“No,” Todoroki said immediately. “You should document this. Scientists need to study it.”

---

One Hour Later…

Her hair was finally tamed with the combined effort of Momo’s entire salon set, six clips, three bobby pins, and a prayer.

But the legend lived on.

A photo of “Morning Y/N” became the new meme in Class 1-A’s group chat, complete with captions like:

“Quirk: Bedhead Beast Mode”

“Power level: Over 9000 follicles of fury”

“Local teen scares away villains with sheer hair volume”

“Bakugo’s explosions fear HER now”

---

The End…?

(Or is the hair still out there… waiting… rising again at the next 7AM wakeup call?)

Requested by anonymous♡

A/n Really sorry if this isn't up to expectations😞 I tried my best also I'm so sorry for the late update!

"No More Games"

It was a typical afternoon at U.A. High School, and you were sitting in the classroom, mindlessly fiddling with a pencil as you waited for the next lesson to start. The usual chatter filled the room, but you were more focused on your own thoughts, distracted by the upcoming training session later that afternoon.

You didn’t notice at first, but someone was staring at you.

Katsuki Bakugo.

He was sitting at his desk across from yours, a scowl on his face, but his eyes were glued to you. You could feel his gaze, sharp and intense, but you didn’t think too much of it. Bakugo always looked like he was glaring at something or someone, so it wasn’t unusual. You were used to it by now.

The seconds stretched into minutes, and you glanced up, finally catching his stare. His eyes quickly darted away, his face flushing red, and he grumbled something under his breath. You just shrugged and went back to your thoughts, too oblivious to pick up on what was happening.

This wasn’t the first time Bakugo had acted strangely around you. Lately, you had noticed little things—like how he always seemed to be standing near you in training, or how he’d shoot sharp glances your way when he thought you weren’t looking. But it wasn’t like he was the easiest person to figure out. He was always so… Bakugo. Intense, fiery, and more than a little hard to read.

But something had changed in the past few weeks. It wasn’t just the stares or the little moments where you could have sworn his hand brushed against yours accidentally—no, there was something deeper to it. You just couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

And Bakugo? Well, he wasn’t one to express his feelings easily. In fact, he usually kept his distance from most people, especially when it came to emotions. But when it came to you... it was like he couldn’t help himself.

He’d gotten a little more... aggressive lately, in a way that wasn’t just his usual fiery attitude. He’d challenge you in training more, or mock you a little more than usual, but the way his eyes lingered on you made something deep in your chest tighten. Still, you pushed the thought away, thinking maybe you were imagining things.

It wasn’t until after class that things finally reached a boiling point.

You were walking down the hall, heading toward the dorms when you heard a voice calling your name.

“Oi! Y/N!”

You turned around and saw Bakugo striding toward you, his hands shoved in his pockets, his posture tense as usual.

“Yeah?” you said, giving him a curious look.

He came to a halt in front of you, his eyes narrowing. “Quit being an idiot.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to make this damn obvious, and you’re still not getting it,” he snapped, his voice growing a little louder as his frustration began to show.

You raised an eyebrow, completely clueless. “Make what obvious?”

Bakugo growled, his fists tightening as if he was struggling to contain himself. “God, you’re so damn dumb!” His face was flushed with frustration, his usual scowl deepening. “I like you, okay?”

You stared at him, your mind stuttering. "What?"

He groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I’ve been trying to tell you, but you’re so damn oblivious. I like you, alright? I’ve liked you for a while now. Why do you think I’m always around you?"

For a moment, there was complete silence. You blinked, unsure if you had heard him right. Did Bakugo—Bakugo—just say that he liked you?

“No way…” you whispered to yourself, still processing.

“Are you seriously that thick?” he grumbled, his voice losing its usual intensity, but you could still hear the embarrassment underneath. “What do I have to do, huh? Set off a damn explosion just to get your attention?!”

You felt your heart race, suddenly realizing all the little signs you had missed—his presence always lingering near you, his stares, his teasing. And now, the confession you had never expected to come from him.

“I... I didn’t realize,” you admitted, your voice quiet as you took in the new information. “You never really said anything, and you’re always... well, Bakugo.”

“Yeah, I get it, alright?” he said, his hands coming up to tug at his hair in frustration. “I’m not good at this crap. I don’t do feelings or whatever, but you’ve been pissing me off because you don’t get it.”

You blinked a couple of times, still feeling the weight of his words hanging in the air. “So, you like me?” you repeated, just to make sure you understood.

“Yeah, I said it already, didn’t I?” Bakugo muttered, his face turning even redder, his hands crossing over his chest. “Damn, I’m not some idiot who can’t make himself clear. I like you. Are you happy now?”

You took a step closer, suddenly feeling bolder now that you knew what was going on. “Well, it’s about time you said something,” you teased, smiling at him.

Bakugo, clearly trying to hide his own embarrassment, scoffed. “I don’t need your damn pity smile,” he said gruffly, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—hope, maybe?

You tilted your head, considering for a moment. “I guess I don’t mind you being around. I think I like you too.”

Bakugo froze, staring at you as if he hadn’t expected you to actually say it. His eyes widened slightly, and for the first time in forever, he seemed lost for words.

“Wait... what?” he asked, clearly caught off guard.

You chuckled at his reaction. “I think I like you too, Bakugo. But next time, try not to be so dramatic about it, okay?”

He grunted, his face turning red again. “Tch, whatever. Don’t make a big deal out of it, alright?”

But despite his words, he couldn’t help but smile just a little as he turned away, his steps a little lighter.

You stood there, watching him go, a smile tugging at your lips. You had no idea how things were going to go from here, but for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—Bakugo wasn’t as hard to read as you thought.

hi ash can i pls make another request? if you dont mind uh katsuki bakugo x reader where they are dating and they had a argument in the morning and he just switched off his phone for his work reader is on her way from home and feels like someone is following her-texts him but it doesnt go to him and he likes attacks reader? maybe a sad ending? you dont have to do this if you are busy :) and this is the same anon who requested the weak pregnant reader one thank you so much for doing it loved it :)

Thank you so much omg♡

And no problem with making many requests I love doing them♡ anyways I hope you enjoy♡

"Shattered silence"

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader:

The morning had been rough, filled with sharp words and silence. You and Bakugo had been arguing before he left for work. He didn’t say much, only muttered that he was turning off his phone to focus, as he often did when he was deep in his work. You, frustrated and upset, had let him go without a word, but the silence between you both was deafening. You didn’t understand why he always chose his work over talking things out.

Now, walking down the street, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following you. Your heart raced as you kept your pace steady, glancing over your shoulder every now and then, but you never saw anyone directly. The feeling lingered, though — like a shadow always just behind you, out of sight but never truly gone.

You reached for your phone, hands trembling slightly, and quickly typed out a message to Bakugo. You just wanted to hear his voice, to feel like he cared and was still there, even if it was only through a text.

“Hey, I feel like someone’s following me. I’m really scared, Bakugo… please, talk to me.”

Your thumb hovered over the screen as you hit send, but the message never went through. The phone showed that it had failed to send, the signal having been lost in the middle of nowhere. You tried again, but nothing happened.

Where are you? you thought. He always kept his phone off when he was working, but this felt different. You tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. Your anxiety started to build up, your breaths shallow as you felt eyes on you, as though someone was inching closer.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the alleyway behind you, growing louder. Your eyes darted around for anyone that could help, but there was no one in sight. The street was eerily quiet. Your heart hammered in your chest as the footsteps quickened. You started to run.

Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed your arm, pulling you back with force. You yelped in surprise, your body instantly jerking away, but the grip was too strong.

“Where do you think you’re going, bitch?” a voice sneered. Your stomach dropped as you looked up, only to see a pair of cruel, cold eyes staring down at you.

The world seemed to blur around you as panic set in. You struggled to break free, but the man’s grip was unrelenting, dragging you further into the shadows. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized that there was no escape.

Before you could react, the man’s grip tightened, and you could feel yourself being lifted off the ground. A scream bubbled up in your chest, but it was cut off as a sudden explosion rang out nearby. The force of the blast sent the man flying back, his hold loosening as he was thrown against the wall. The ground shook, and the distant sound of someone shouting your name reached your ears.

“Y/N!” Bakugo’s voice, raw with anger and concern, tore through the air, snapping you out of the daze.

You looked up, your breath shaky, only to see Bakugo standing there, his fists clenched, his body tense with fury. His usual scowl was replaced with a deep, unsettling worry, his eyes scanning over your trembling figure.

“Y/N… what the hell were you thinking?” His voice was harsh, but his concern was clear as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, as if to reassure himself that you were real.

“I— I was scared,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I… I thought someone was following me. I couldn’t reach you. Your phone was off.”

Bakugo's face softened, though a flicker of guilt crossed his features. He had been so absorbed in his work that he had failed to check on you, to make sure you were okay. He never imagined that something like this could happen.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, tightening his hold on you. “I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have… left you like that.”

But as you stood there, his warmth surrounding you, a deep sadness lingered within you. The argument this morning, the silence, the distance — it all hit you harder than it should have. The terror of almost losing him, of being so alone in that moment, gnawed at you.

“I don’t want to feel alone anymore, Bakugo,” you whispered, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. “I don’t want this distance between us. I can’t handle it.”

Bakugo’s heart twisted in his chest. He had always been so focused on his goals, on being the best, but he hadn’t realized how his distance from you — emotionally and physically — had affected you. The harshness of the morning argument and his neglect for your feelings had almost cost him everything.

“I promise, I won’t ever let you feel alone again,” he whispered, pulling you closer. But the damage was already done. The crack in your heart that had been growing for a while couldn’t be repaired with a few words.

As the minutes passed, a heavy silence settled over the two of you. You stayed in his arms, but the weight of everything hung between you, unspoken and unaddressed. Despite the closeness, the rift between you both was still there, and for now, neither of you knew how to fix it.