Stranger Things
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
if i look back, i am lost
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Product Placement
Janaina Medeiros
Misplaced Lens Cap
cherry valley forever
styofa doing anything
⁂
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
hello vonnie
dirt enthusiast
h
NASA
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature
Kaledo Art
will byers stan first human second
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@ang3ldvst
Of Blood and Fire - Barbarian!Bakugou Series
“There’s nothing beyond these trees but freezing mountains and tribes that would eat a pretty thing like you for breakfast. You’re lost. And you’re weak.”
full series will be posted on my AO3: angel2hven | chapter 1 has been published.
Of Blood and Fire
Bakugou’s first time headcanon
Katsuki would never admit it out loud, but the second he knew it was going to be your and his first time, he went into full-blown prep mode like he was planning a damn heist.
The man deep-dived into research like he was cramming for finals. Late at night, hunched over his phone with his reading glasses sliding down his nose, he’s scrolling through endless tabs:
Reddit threads titled “Things I wish I knew before my girlfriend’s first time”
Anonymous advice posts about the importance of foreplay, lube, aftercare
Even anatomy diagrams because he refuses to be “one of those dumbasses who doesn’t know where shit is.”
And while a lot of the internet is garbage, some posts are thoughtful—people encouraging him that first times don’t have to be perfect, they’re about learning together. He absorbs all of it, but in true Katsuki fashion, he thinks: Yeah, but I’ll still make it perfect.
So he plans. Meticulously.
He buys brand new sheets because the thought of your first time happening on “regular old sheets” makes him scowl. He washes them twice so they smell clean but not chemical-y. He tests out a playlist—muting and unmuting songs, fast-forwarding through anything that doesn’t “set the right fucking mood.” He even experiments with scented candles in his room, sniffing each one with crossed arms, muttering: “Too strong. Too sweet. Fuck no.” until he finds one that’s subtle and warm.
And the man stocks up like he’s preparing for a siege: lube, multiple condom brands (“I’m not lettin’ some shitty latex ruin this”), extra pillows, water bottles by the bed. He even has snacks stashed nearby because one advice post said, sometimes people get lightheaded or hungry afterward.
When the night finally comes, he’s trying to play it cool. Acting like, yeah, whatever, this is casual, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the way he keeps double-checking the playlist volume or adjusting the pillow behind your back. He keeps pausing to check on you: “You comfortable?” “Too hot? Too cold?” “Do you want me to slow down?”
You tease him—“Kats, you’re acting like you’re about to perform surgery.”
And his ears go red. He grumbles, face half-buried against your neck, “Shut up. I’m not half-assing this shit.” But underneath all the bravado and perfectionism, you can feel how much it matters to him. Every careful kiss, every time he pulls back just to search your face for signs of discomfort, every muttered, “Tell me if anything feels off, alright? Don’t hold back.” It’s not about performing. It’s about you. About making sure your first time feels safe, cared for, unforgettable.
And later, when you’re lying in his arms and he’s finally relaxed enough to let his guard down, he admits in a low voice, embarrassed but honest, “…Been researchin’ this shit for weeks. Wanted it to be perfect for you.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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Tricking Bakugou by being drunk at a party
The party was loud—music thumping through the walls, bodies pressed together, the air hot with sweat and spilled beer. Katsuki was actually… tolerating it. He was off to the side with Kirishima and Sero, sharp grin flashing every so often when someone made a dumb joke. You, though, were not having a good time.
So when you stumbled back to him, all heavy-limbed and glassy-eyed, he caught you instantly.
“Tch—what the fuck, you can’t even stand?” His hand came to your waist, steadying you before you pitched forward. “You’ve had enough. We’re leaving.”
Exactly the reaction you wanted.
He muttered under his breath the whole Uber ride home, one arm anchored around you like you’d topple without him. By the time he carried you through the front door of your shared apartment building, his jaw was tight. He looked more like a pissed-off babysitter than a boyfriend.
“Goddammit,” he grunted, kicking the door shut behind him while keeping you balanced in his arms. “Why the hell’d you drink so much? You’re lucky I was there.”
He set you down on the bed, tugging off your shoes with rough precision. “You’re drunk. Barely can stand on your feet.”
You blinked up at him—soft, innocent. Then, slowly, a little smile curved your lips.
“I’m sober.”
His hands froze on your ankle. His head snapped up.
“I just wanted to leave that stupid party…” Your voice dipped lower, like a secret meant only for him. You pushed yourself up, fingers catching the hem of his shirt as you leaned closer. “…and have fun with you instead.”
For a beat, he just stared, crimson eyes wide with realization. His breath hitched—sharp and quick—like you’d just pulled the ground out from under him.
“You—” his voice came out strained, rougher than usual, “you little liar.”
The words came out on a growl, sharp as his glare, but before you could even smirk back, he was already on you.
He shoved you flat against the mattress, his mouth crashing into yours, teeth scraping, breath hot. The annoyance he’d been carrying all night burned off into something hungrier, rougher. His body caged you in as he pressed down, grinding his hips into yours, and the friction alone had your stomach flipping.
Your fingers tangled in his shirt, tugging him closer, closer, like you couldn’t stand even an inch between you. His hand slid under your thigh, dragging it up to hook around his waist so he could press harder, deeper, until you were moaning into his mouth.
“Fuck, you’re insane,” he rasped against your lips, biting down gently before kissing you again, harder.
It didn’t take long before his hand slipped lower, sliding up under your skirt. His fingers skimmed over your panties and stopped cold. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide.
“You’re fuckin’ soaked already.”
You whined, trying to move against him, but he shoved his hand down, fingers pushing aside the thin fabric and finding you just right. The first touch had you arching up, clinging to him with a broken sound.
“Shit—” he cursed again, forehead pressing against yours as his fingers worked you slow at first, then faster when he felt you trembling. “All that pretending just to get me home so I could do this, huh? You’re unbelievable.”
Your answer came in the way your body shook against his, heat building until it crashed through you, leaving you gasping into his neck as he fingered you right through it.
He didn’t stop until you were twitching, until he was satisfied with the mess you made against his hand.
His fingers were still slick when he dragged them out of you, the pads glistening under the low light of your shared bedroom. He wiped them across his lips like a man possessed, tasting you with a low groan that made your stomach flip.
“You think I’m lettin’ you off with that, huh?” he rasped, leaning back over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh so hard it made your pulse skip. “You keep fuckin’ teasin’ me—lookin’ at me like that, whining for more—” His voice broke into a snarl, hot against your ear. “You’re gonna get it.”
You opened your mouth to say something smart, but he swallowed it whole, crashing his lips against yours. It wasn’t a kiss so much as a claim, all tongue and teeth, messy and desperate. His body pressed flush against yours, grinding his hard cock through his jeans against the soaked spot of your panties. You moaned into his mouth, lifting your hips shamelessly, and that was the last straw for him.
“Fuck this,” he growled, ripping his belt open with one hand while the other shoved your skirt up roughly to your waist. He didn’t even bother getting fully undressed, just enough to shove his jeans and boxers down his thighs. The sight of him—red-faced, sweaty, chest heaving, cock heavy and flushed—made your whole body thrum with need.
“Katsuki—” you gasped when the blunt head of him pressed against your folds, sliding up and down, catching on your entrance but never pushing in. Teasing. Torturing.
“Say you’re sorry,” he demanded, dragging his tip over your clit until your back arched off the sheets. “Beg me, baby. Tell me you want it.”
You whined, clawing at his shoulders, every nerve ending buzzing. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry, Katsuki, please! Please just fuck me already, I can’t—”
That broke him. With a guttural curse, he slammed into you in one hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Your cry was swallowed in his shoulder as he groaned low, holding himself deep, trembling with the effort not to finish instantly.
“Shit—you’re so wet, fuck—” His voice cracked, hips grinding against yours. “This pussy’s mine. You hear me?”
“Y-yours,” you moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist to drag him even deeper.
That was all he needed. He pulled back and started moving—fast, punishing strokes that made the headboard slam against the wall, the wet sounds of your bodies filling the room. His hand found your throat, not squeezing, just holding, thumb stroking your jaw while he fucked you into the mattress.
You clawed his back, your moans growing higher-pitched, each thrust hitting that spot that had you seeing stars. “Katsuki—fuck, I’m—”
“I know, baby. I know.” His forehead pressed against yours, sweat dripping down his temple. “Come with me. Right fuckin’ now.”
And when his hand dropped to circle your clit, that was it—you shattered, crying out his name as your whole body clenched around him. He cursed loud and raw, hips jerking as he spilled inside you, grinding deep to make sure not a drop left.
The room went quiet except for your ragged breaths. He collapsed on top of you for a second, still buried, refusing to move.
“Dumbfuck,” he muttered against your neck, kissing the damp skin lazily. “Gonna be the death of me.”
You giggled weakly, still high, threading your fingers through his sweaty hair. “Worth it.”
His teeth grazed your jaw, sharp enough to sting. “Tch. You’re lucky I fuckin’ love you.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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MHA MASTERLIST
Hehe hiii!!<3 love your writing! Can I request a NSFW kirishima and bakugo or just either one with a reader who has a big oral fixation?
oh my god i already have this written in my draft for weeks! the timing is perfect! but it's bakugou hehehe
Bakugou helping your oral fixation
You were on the couch, absentmindedly chewing on a pen cap while scrolling on your phone. Not even thinking about it — just zoned out, lightly gnawing like some feral little raccoon.
You didn’t even hear Katsuki walk in until his shadow cast over you.
“You’ve been chewin’ and suckin’ on a lot of shit these days, huh?”
You blinked up at him. “…What?”
He plucked the pen from your mouth and held it up like evidence.
“This. Yesterday it was a straw. Before that, the hoodie strings. You fuckin’ grinding your teeth like some damn beaver.” He gave you a look, sharp and smug. “You want me to help you out? I got somethin’ better you can suck on.”
Your cheeks heated — but the worst part? He was right, and your body reacted instantly.
“I wasn’t—”
He just scoffed. “Yeah? You gonna lie and say your mouth ain’t itchin’ right now?”
You swallowed. Hard. Because now that he said it, you were aware — your jaw felt restless, tongue pressing to the back of your teeth, like your body was begging for pressure, weight, something to latch onto.
He smirked like he knew exactly what switch got flipped.
“C’mere.”
You didn’t hesitate. He sat back against the couch and spread his legs wide, patting his thigh. “On your knees.”
You slid down off the sofa and settled between his legs, looking up at him through your lashes. He was already hard — or close to it — just from the anticipation.
He hooked a finger under your chin. “You gonna be good? Gonna get that mouth of yours busy so you stop destroyin’ household objects?”
You nodded eagerly.
i love your work smm can u do bakugo x lactating reader smut?
Bakugou lactating you
It started after the baby was weaned. Your body hadn't quite gotten the message, still full and aching, sensitive in a way that made every brush of fabric a subtle torment. Katsuki noticed first. He was always hyper-aware of your body, every shift and change.
He’d come up behind you while you were washing dishes, his hands sliding around to cup the heavy weight of your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through your shirt. You’d jolt, a sharp gasp catching in your throat, and a damp spot would immediately bloom on the fabric.
“Still so full for me, huh?” he’d murmur, his voice a low rumble in your ear. It wasn’t a question; it was an observation that made his cock harden against your back.
At first, it was almost clinical. He was fascinated. He’d have you lie back on the bed, propped up on pillows, and he’d just stare, his calloused fingers gently tracing the blue veins under your pale skin. “Fuckin’ incredible,” he’d whisper, almost to himself.
Then, the curiosity turned to hunger.
One night, when the ache was particularly bad, he nudged you onto your back and lowered his mouth to your breast. It wasn’t a sexual suckle at first; it was experimental. But when the first warm, sweet rush hit his tongue, something in him snapped.
His eyes, dark and blown wide, flicked up to meet yours. A low, guttural sound vibrated against your skin. Then his sucking became desperate, greedy. He drank from you like a man dying of thirst, one hand squeezing your other breast, coaxing more of the creamy substance to the surface.
It became his new obsession. His favorite thing.
He’ll wake you up in the dead of night, his mouth already latched onto a nipple, sucking hard until you’re crying out, your milk letting down directly into his throat. He’ll groan around your flesh, “So fuckin’ sweet. All mine.”
When he fucks you, he’ll often pause, leaning down to suckle greedily, milking you with his mouth while his cock is buried deep inside you. The dual sensations are overwhelming—the pull on your breasts and the stretch of your cunt—and he revels in the broken, overlapping sounds you make.
“Look at this,” he’ll growl, pulling his mouth away with a wet pop, his chin glistening. He’ll squeeze your breast, making a thin stream of milk arc through the air, and he’ll laugh, a dark, thrilled sound. “My personal fuckin’ fountain.”
He loves the taste, the smell, the fact that your body is producing this sustenance just for him. It’s the ultimate form of possession. He’s not just fucking you; he’s being nourished by you, his strength literally drawn from your body. And he’ll make sure you know it, whispering filthy praises against your damp skin as he drinks his fill.
“That’s it, mama. Feed me. Make me strong so I can fuck you even better.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
⊹₊⋆ likes, reblogs, replies, and follows are appreciated!
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MHA MASTERLIST
Bakugou who loves your tits
It always started the same way. Katsuki would come home, grumbling under his breath about idiots, deadlines, or some training disaster, and without even a warning he’d flop down on top of you. No hesitation, no regard for your oxygen supply—just full 200 pounds of deadweight, pinning you to the couch.
And before you could protest, his face was already buried right in your chest.
“Katsuki—” you gasped, arms instinctively curling around him.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. His breath was hot through the cotton, his nose nudging into the softest part of you. “Don’t. Move.”
You laughed quietly, one hand slipping up to his messy hair. He hated when you called him out, but you could feel the way his shoulders finally started to relax under your touch, tension bleeding out of him bit by bit.
It wasn’t about groping, not really. Sometimes his hands stayed perfectly tame—just resting against your hips, or tangled in your shirt like he needed an anchor. Other times, though, his fingers would twitch like they had a mind of their own, sliding over your ribs, squeezing the mounds, or brushing the side of your breast before settling again. And sometimes he bites.
But the constant was his face. Pressed right there, buried in you like he was trying to block out the whole damn world.
“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered, carding your fingers through his hair.
“Shut up,” he repeated, voice low and groggy this time. He shifted a little, nuzzling deeper, like he wanted to disappear into you entirely. “Feels good. Just… quit movin’.”
And then he stilled. Heavy. Comfortable. His breaths evened out against your chest, warm and steady, and you realized he was already falling asleep.
It was his safe place, though he’d never admit it out loud. To anyone else, he’d snarl and deny, but you knew the truth: Katsuki Bakugou found his peace not in silence, not in solitude, but in the quiet rise and fall of your breathing, his face tucked safe against your softness.
“…You really love my tits, huh?” you muttered, unable to resist poking the bear.
You felt, rather than saw, the way his brows twitched in irritation—his face still firmly buried between your breasts.
“Tch.” His voice came out muffled against your skin. “Shut the hell up.”
You snorted. “You could’ve denied it.”
“Why the hell would I deny it?” he shot back without lifting his head. His words vibrated against you, making you squirm. One hand lazily squeezed your waist. “You got the best damn tits in the world. Be stupid if I didn’t use ‘em.”
“Use them??” you wheezed between laughs. “They’re not tools, Katsuki!”
“Sure they are,” he grumbled. “Pillows. Stress relievers. Noise cancelers. Warmers. Multifunctional.”
“You’re deranged.”
“Mm. And you’re noisy.” He shifted slightly, cheek pressed deeper against you as his arm tightened around your waist. “Quit talkin’ or I’ll bite.”
You raised a brow. “That’s an even weirder threat considering where your mouth is—”
There was a pause. Oh no.
You barely had a second to brace before—“OW—KATSUKI!”
The man had bitten you.
Right through your shirt. Sharp enough to make you jolt, but not hard enough to actually hurt—just enough to make a point.
You whacked the back of his head. “Did you just bite me like a feral toddler?!”
He didn’t even flinch. “Told you to shut it.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Mm.” He nuzzled right back into you like a smug Pomeranian that just did something illegal. “Now keep still. I’m tryin’ to sleep.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“If you’re still gonna run your mouth,” he mumbled, already settling fully again. “…I’m gonna fuck your tits instead.”
But you don’t really learn when he makes threats like this, do you?
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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I have a part 2 of this and he did fuck her tits
Bakugou who loves your tits
It always started the same way. Katsuki would come home, grumbling under his breath about idiots, deadlines, or some training disaster, and without even a warning he’d flop down on top of you. No hesitation, no regard for your oxygen supply—just full 200 pounds of deadweight, pinning you to the couch.
And before you could protest, his face was already buried right in your chest.
“Katsuki—” you gasped, arms instinctively curling around him.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. His breath was hot through the cotton, his nose nudging into the softest part of you. “Don’t. Move.”
You laughed quietly, one hand slipping up to his messy hair. He hated when you called him out, but you could feel the way his shoulders finally started to relax under your touch, tension bleeding out of him bit by bit.
It wasn’t about groping, not really. Sometimes his hands stayed perfectly tame—just resting against your hips, or tangled in your shirt like he needed an anchor. Other times, though, his fingers would twitch like they had a mind of their own, sliding over your ribs, squeezing the mounds, or brushing the side of your breast before settling again. And sometimes he bites.
But the constant was his face. Pressed right there, buried in you like he was trying to block out the whole damn world.
“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered, carding your fingers through his hair.
“Shut up,” he repeated, voice low and groggy this time. He shifted a little, nuzzling deeper, like he wanted to disappear into you entirely. “Feels good. Just… quit movin’.”
And then he stilled. Heavy. Comfortable. His breaths evened out against your chest, warm and steady, and you realized he was already falling asleep.
It was his safe place, though he’d never admit it out loud. To anyone else, he’d snarl and deny, but you knew the truth: Katsuki Bakugou found his peace not in silence, not in solitude, but in the quiet rise and fall of your breathing, his face tucked safe against your softness.
“…You really love my tits, huh?” you muttered, unable to resist poking the bear.
You felt, rather than saw, the way his brows twitched in irritation—his face still firmly buried between your breasts.
“Tch.” His voice came out muffled against your skin. “Shut the hell up.”
You snorted. “You could’ve denied it.”
“Why the hell would I deny it?” he shot back without lifting his head. His words vibrated against you, making you squirm. One hand lazily squeezed your waist. “You got the best damn tits in the world. Be stupid if I didn’t use ‘em.”
“Use them??” you wheezed between laughs. “They’re not tools, Katsuki!”
“Sure they are,” he grumbled. “Pillows. Stress relievers. Noise cancelers. Warmers. Multifunctional.”
“You’re deranged.”
“Mm. And you’re noisy.” He shifted slightly, cheek pressed deeper against you as his arm tightened around your waist. “Quit talkin’ or I’ll bite.”
You raised a brow. “That’s an even weirder threat considering where your mouth is—”
There was a pause. Oh no.
You barely had a second to brace before—“OW—KATSUKI!”
The man had bitten you.
Right through your shirt. Sharp enough to make you jolt, but not hard enough to actually hurt—just enough to make a point.
You whacked the back of his head. “Did you just bite me like a feral toddler?!”
He didn’t even flinch. “Told you to shut it.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Mm.” He nuzzled right back into you like a smug Pomeranian that just did something illegal. “Now keep still. I’m tryin’ to sleep.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“If you’re still gonna run your mouth,” he mumbled, already settling fully again. “…I’m gonna fuck your tits instead.”
But you don’t really learn when he makes threats like this, do you?
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
⊹₊⋆ likes, reblogs, replies, and follows are appreciated!
⊹₊⋆ if it could help me write better, please don't be shy to let me know!
⊹₊⋆ requests are open for now!
MHA MASTERLIST
Get Even - Chapter 12
word count: 4k
CW: frat prez!kabugou katsuki x fem!reader, emotional intimacy, brief mentions of past substance use (alcoholism), healing after trauma, soft romantic/sexual undertones, domesticity, mentions of mental exhaustion.
There’s no bite in his tone. No accusation. Just quiet understanding.
Your throat tightens, but you force yourself to meet his eyes. “Yes. I… I think I am. Even though it scares me. Even though I know how badly he’s hurt me before.” You pause, exhaling shakily. “It feels like something I have to do. For myself. For what I feel.”
Nao nods slowly, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I understand. And I’m not asking you to explain more than that. You don’t owe me a justification. I knew, from the very start, that his shadow was still with you.”
Your heart squeezes. “Nao…”
But he continues, his expression calm, his words carrying that same steadiness that always grounded you. “I told you once, didn’t I? That I wouldn’t put all my expectations on you. That I knew things like this weren’t easy.” He smiles, faint but genuine. “My chances were always small. But I still tried. Because you were worth trying for.”
That makes your chest ache. Your eyes sting. You press your hands together tightly on your lap, struggling to keep your composure. “You were never a waste of time to me. Not once. Every moment I spent with you… it mattered. You were kind when I couldn’t be kind to myself. You reminded me what respect looks like. You never pushed when I couldn’t give more.”
A quiet laugh escapes him, though it’s laced with sadness. “And you kept up with me, which is not something I can say about many people.” He glances at you sideways, the corner of his lips quirking. “You challenged me. That intrigued me. You still do.”
You look down, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “…I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asks gently.
Let Me Burn in Heresy - B.K
theology nerd!bakugou x succubus!reader
cw: explicit sexual content (18+ only)—graphic sex, oral (m. receiving), penetration, p in v, rough domination, overstimulation, possessive dynamics. religious/moral themes—theology elements, sin imagery, temptation. fantasy/demon elements—summoning, supernatural seduction, succubus lore. power imbalance & control—one character initially in control, dynamic shift mid-scene. language—strong language, degradation, dirty talk. emotional intensity—blurred lines between lust, faith, and obsession. THIRD PERSON'S POV
Katsuki’s dorm room didn’t look like much from the outside—just another corner unit stacked with textbooks and notebooks. But anyone who stepped inside would notice the difference immediately. The shelves weren’t filled with the usual clutter of college life. Instead, they were lined with old volumes scavenged from antique stores, dusty secondhand shops, and obscure websites: The Lesser Key of Solomon, translations of grimoires, printouts of faded manuscripts.
He didn’t even know when the fascination started—maybe back in middle school, when he could swear he’d seen shadows flicker where they shouldn’t, heard whispers when the room was dead silent. He chalked it up to stress, imagination, but part of him never let it go.
By the time he got into theology, he’d chosen his focus without hesitation: demonology. He collected. He studied. Sometimes, without thinking, he found himself redrawing sigils he’d seen in old texts, the lines burned too vividly into his memory.
And tonight, he was doing exactly that.
Glasses slipping low on his nose, he hunched over his journal, pen moving with careful strokes. His notebook already had pages of messy sketches and copied symbols, but this one was… different. The more he drew, the sharper the lines came out, as if his hand already knew the shapes. He shaded details he usually would’ve skipped, added flourishes without realizing it.
When he leaned back, the page didn’t look like a simple doodle. It looked complete. Alive.
The sigil pulsed once.
Katsuki blinked, rubbed his eyes. “The fuck—”
finished fic: theology nerd bakugou x succubus reader
i still don't know if i should post it or not. finished writing it last night
should i post or nah?
post
nah
edit: let me know if you want to be tagged when I post it
Get Even - Chapter 11
word count: 5.3k
CW: NSFW | frat prez!katsuki x fem art sudent!reader, make-up sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mutual emotional vulnerability, intimate physical descriptions, mentions of alcoholism, emotional breakdowns, guilt, and self-destructive behavior, heavy emotional themes, reconciliation, regret, forgiveness, second chance.
His mouth crushed against yours, hungry and unrestrained, and you let yourself drown in it. The way his hands gripped your hips like he’d been starved for years, the way his tongue slid against yours—messy, desperate, devastating. You arched into him, fingers clutching at the back of his sweatshirt, dragging him closer until there was no space left between your bodies.
The friction had you gasping, had him cursing into your mouth. His hand slipped under your shirt, rough palm skating across your waist, and you nearly sobbed at the familiar heat of it. His other hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you steady while his kiss turned frantic, a breaking point years in the making.
“Katsuki—” you breathed, barely a sound, but it shattered him. He pressed you back against the couch, hips aligning with yours, hard and undeniable through the thin barrier of clothes. Your thighs instinctively parted, welcoming him in, and he groaned like he’d just lost every ounce of control he thought he had.
It would’ve been so easy. To let him push further. To let the dam break completely.
But then he froze.
Just as his hand trailed lower, just as your pulse skyrocketed into something blinding, Katsuki tore himself away like it burned. His forehead pressed against yours, breaths ragged and uneven, his entire body trembling with restraint.
“Fuck,” he rasped, voice raw. His fists clenched tight in your shirt, holding on like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “I—I can’t. Not like this. Not when—” His words broke apart, strangled and helpless.
Bakugou letting you hold it while he pees
Katsuki’s already standing at the toilet, one hand on his waistband, ready to take a peaceful piss in silence like a normal human being — when suddenly:
“Can I hold it?”
He freezes like he just got hit with a stun grenade.
Slowly… very slowly… he turns his head over his shoulder, eyes wide, jaw locked.
“…the fuck did you just say?”
You’re standing in front of the bathroom door like it’s a courtroom. Hands clasped behind your back. Rocking heel to toe. Proud. Serious. Deadly earnest.
“Let me hold your pee pee while you pee.”
He blinks. Once. Twice.
“First of all— DON’T call it a fuckin’ pee pee.”
You nod solemnly. “Okay. Cock.”
“That’s WORSE!”
You pout. “But I saw it on TikTok! Girlfriends do it for their boyfriends. It’s cute. Bonding activity.”
Katsuki stares at you like you’ve just declared war on logic itself. “No.” Immediate. Aggressive. Like you just insulted his bloodline.
“No. Absolutely not. You are NOT touching my dick while I’m taking a piss. That’s— that’s WEIRD. That’s UNHYGIENIC. That’s—”
“…please?”
He inhales sharply like he’s trying to breathe through emotional damage.
“Why the hell would you even want that?”
“I dunno…” you shrug. “I just love you. And I wanna support you through everything. Even your pee.”
He drags a hand down his face, muttering something about dating a certified psychopath, but you can see his resolve crumbling.
He grumbles, pointing at you like he’s issuing a death threat. “Fine. FINE. BUT THIS IS A ONE-TIME THING. ONE. TIME. AND IF YOU LAUGH OR DO ANY WEIRD SHIT I’M ENDING IT.”
You light up like a Christmas tree and bounce over, whisper-shouting, “YAY THANK YOU I PROMISE I’LL TAKE IT SERIOUSLY—”
“SHH— don’t– stop narrating!”
You salute. “Yes sir.”
He reluctantly adjusts himself, awkwardly guiding your hand to hold the base while glaring straight ahead at the wall like he’s bracing for war.
“…okay. I’m gonna go now.”
“Okay.”
Silence. Then pee.
You whisper reverently, “Wow.”
“DON’T SAY WOW.”
You’re grinning like you’re witnessing the birth of your first child. “Look at us. Teamwork.”
“I swear to god—”
You’re holding him carefully with both hands like it’s a sacred relic, lower lip tucked in with deep concentration. Katsuki is tense above you, one palm braced on the wall, the other gripping your wrist in case you do anything reckless.
Everything is silent except for the sound of the stream hitting porcelain.
Then you whisper, dead serious:
“Bro… I feel like I’m playing Wii Sports right now.”
Katsuki CHOKES mid-piss. His whole spine stiffens like you just slapped him with a frying pan.
“EXCUSE ME?!”
Your face lights up like a gremlin who’s just unlocked a new level of chaos. Slowly—very slowly—you tilt your hands a few degrees upward.
“Look, I can aim it higher—”
He makes a horrified noise, gripping your wrist tighter.
“DON’T YOU DARE MOVE IT.” His voice cracks like a middle schooler. “You’re not controllin’ a fuckin’ sprinkler system!”
You’re snorting now, shoulders shaking. He’s red in the face and fighting for his life while still trying not to piss everywhere.
“Trajectory’s good. Pressure’s even. 10/10 stream, babe.”
“Shut the fuck up—” He’s wheezing now, grabbing onto your arm like it’s a live bomb. His ears are glowing scarlet.
And then, with the utmost seriousness, you grin up at him and say:
“…what if I write my name on the water with it?”
Katsuki WHIPS around so aggressively he almost loses aim—hips jerking like you just hit him with a taser.
“ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR GODDAMN MIND?! THIS AIN’T A FUCKIN’ ETCH-A-SKETCH!”
You’re crying laughing at this point, full body shaking, still holding him hostage. You try to steady yourself on his hip but that just makes it worse.
“I’m just saying… teamwork makes the dream work.”
That’s his breaking point. He snarls, yanks your hands off like defusing a bomb, and practically slams the flush lever with the aggression of a war general.
He turns, glaring daggers, cheeks red, chest heaving.
“This is the ONLY TIME. Ever. You hear me?!”
You pout dramatically, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “Aw, but you looked so cute. Like my little firehose.”
He groans, dragging both hands down his face in exhausted defeat. “Next time you ask me dumb shit like this, I’m pissin’ on you.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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a silly little headcanon
bakugou scolding his girlfriend for innocently ask him "Can I hold it while you pee?"
he cannot believe what he had just heard. his girl wants to hold his cock while he's taking a piss. he started yelling "What the fuck have you been watching?!" and she's just there looking up at him with big ol' eyes and his will started to waver.
poor katsuki, he's about to be very embarrassed....
(i might just write something from this)
Making out with Bakugou but your glasses are in the way
You’d always thought the glasses made you look plain — nothing special, just something you needed. But Katsuki? He couldn’t stop staring whenever you wore them.
There was something about the way they slipped a little down your nose when you were focused, the way you pushed them back up with the tip of your finger, the way the light caught on the lenses and framed your eyes just so.
He’d never admit it out loud, but every time, his brain short-circuited with the same thought: how could someone this soft, this studious, this cute end up tangled up with him, breathless and whispering his name?
It was the kind of contrast that drove him a little wild.
You had barely gotten the chance to take off your glasses before Katsuki crashed his mouth against yours. The kiss started hot, rushed, like he couldn’t be bothered with patience. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you melted right into it—until suddenly, clink.
His nose bumped the frame of your glasses.
“—Tch, what the fuck—” he pulled back just an inch, scowling like he’d been personally wronged by a pair of lenses. You giggled, breathless, which only pissed him off more. “Oi, quit laughin’. These damn things are in the way.”
Before you could offer to take them off yourself, he’d already yanked them off your face, not exactly gentle, but not careless either—like he couldn’t stand the barrier between him and you for another second. He tossed them somewhere (you’d worry about finding them later) and hooked a rough hand under your jaw.
“Better.” His voice was low, almost a growl, before he pulled you back into him.
The second kiss wasn’t just deeper—it was hungry. He didn’t ease back in; he claimed you.
His mouth met yours with hot insistence, lips parting yours open like he owned the right to. His tongue swept in with no hesitation, slow at first—teasing, tasting—before growing bolder when he heard the tiny noise you let slip against him.
You clutched his shirt like you needed something to hold onto, knees going weak from how thoroughly he was kissing you. He angled his head and pressed in harder, like he wanted to erase any space left between you, like even air was competition.
A low sound rumbled from his chest—half a growl, half a groan—when your fingers crept up to his jaw. He chased your mouth deeper, again and again, kissing like he was trying to make absolutely sure you’d still be breathless even after he pulled away.
And that was the thing—without the glasses, nothing stopped him from kissing you like he really wanted to. Full, consuming, like he was pouring every unsaid word and unspent fire into you, daring you to breathe when he didn’t.
When he finally pulled back, lips swollen and eyes burning into yours, he muttered, “Shit, I’m gonna go fuckin’ crazy .”
You laughed again, softer this time, touching your lips with a dazed smile. “I’m glad.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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Pxssy Play with Bakugou
pussy play with Katsuki Bakugou, baby, you already know this man treats you like you’re sacred and sinful all at once. he’s growling under his breath, voice hoarse:
“fuckin’ soaked already. what—been thinkin’ about me all day?”
he's got those thick fingers sliding over your folds, calloused pads brushing your clit just enough to make your hips twitch. he’s slow about it at first—methodical—just watching your face react to every flick, every swirl, every pause where she tries to chase his hand. and when you whine?
“nah, you’ll take what I give you. be patient, princess.”
AND IF he’s using his mouth?? oh, that’s his favorite game. he locks your thighs open, nose buried in the softness between them, licking you like you're the only god he’s ever prayed to. slow, lazy drags of his tongue up your slit, then a sudden suck to your clit that makes you yelp—and he just smirks into it.
and he’s cruel with how he handles you. he wouldn't let you come until you’re crying, your body shaking, your mouth babbling words that don’t even make sense—overstimulating you to the point you’d gush all over his hand and face.
he would smirk—that shit eating grin he always had when he got you like this.
“Look at you, pathetic. You must’ve loved this, huh?”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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Wound Up Tight
Katsuki came home earlier than usual tonight.
He was wound up tight so that you could see the tension in his shoulders when he exhaled heavily after he dropped his bag near the entrance. His steps were heavy as he walked towards you in the kitchen. As soon as he got to hold you, hugging you from the back, his face buried in your neck, inhaling your sweet intoxicating scent, it’s like all of the tension in his body just disappeared.
He relaxed against you, arms wrapped firmly around your middle as he said, “You smell so good. Smell like vanilla and cinnamon. That right’?”
You smiled, finding it cute when he’s acting this. “Hm? You noticed. How’d you get it right the first try? You like it?” He scoffed–but there was no bitterness to it. “Tch, ‘course I noticed. Who the fuck do you think I am, huh?” He paused, before he continued, “And yeah… I like it.” You couldn’t help but beam, hearing that from him. But seeing your reaction from his simple compliment got him feeling so many types of emotions. And you noticed that when he tried to hide his face in your neck again. He hid his face in your neck again, the same way he always did when emotions got too real. But his body is much more honest than he is.
FUCK I ALMOST LOST MY WHOLE DRAFT OF SMUTS I'VE WRITTEN OVER THE YEAR IM PANICKING SO BAD RIGHT NOW I LEGIT WAS ABOUT TO THROW UP
