When U And Katsuki Get Intimate, He Makes Sure Ur Both Wearing Ur Wedding Rings ‼️

won't you spare me another year ?

synopsis : you want to be the first person to wish your katsuki a happy birthday every year <3

an. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BOYFRIEND!!

cw. nothing, pure fluff!!! also fem reader!

"5..4...3...2...1...aaaand—happy birthday, katsuki !!"

katsuki groans sleepily as your arms tighten around him. "you're fucking insane. it's midnight."

"it's your birthday !" you defend quietly, pouting up at him. he looks down at you and chuckles.

"ya could've just let me sleep and told me that shit in the morning, would've still been m'birthday." he yawns, wiping his eyes. you shoot up to press a kiss to his cheek, leaning into his space more to kiss him all over while he pretends to try and push you off when you roll on top of him. you both ignore how he immediately goes to squeezing your hips when you settle on top.

"i could've, but then there would've been a chance i slept in too long and then i wouldn't have been the first one to wish you happy birthday."

"so my birthday's a competition now ?"

"yup. and i plan to be first every year." you giggle, he rolls his eyes but can't hide the smile growing on his face.

"clingy brat.." he mumbles, he kisses you back anyways when your lips reach his.

"you love me." you counter.

"mm, whatever." he waves off, grabbing the back of your head to bring your lips back to his. you squeal as he tries to deepen the kiss. "you're being greedy." you warn, lips smushed against his.

"s'my birthday, means i get what i wan’, right ? and since you're gonna keep me awake, could at the very least gimme a proper damn kiss." he says between kisses, it makes you laugh against his mouth and he smiles. when you pull away, you lean in to press a long, lasting kiss on the scar right below his eye. you can feel the way the muscles in his face drop and his arms tighten around you in surprise.

"happy birthday, katsuki. i'm glad i can spend another year with you." you whisper earnestly, looking down at him like he'd hung up the moon and the stars for you. unfortunately, it seems that was too much sincerity for your poor boyfriend. he squints, his massive palms enveloping your face to squeeze your cheeks.

"y-yeah, yeah. quit bein' sappy..." he huffs. you feel his thumb run against your bottom lip when he glances up at you, ears tinted pink as he quietly whispers out a "thanks...".

you don't need to say anymore, smiling as you lay on his chest. you hum "what do you wanna do for your birthday ?"

"stay in and fuckin' sleep." is his simple response, you can't help but snort.

"and nothing else ?" you look up at him.

he looks down at you "sounds like you got something you're hiding from me." he asks, suspiciously raising a brow.

you scoff, looking away "pffff, me ? no way..."you lie, your voice going airy.

you’re being grabbed by your cheeks in an instant and katsuki’s not deterred by your whining "you're a shit liar."

"i plead the fifth."

"plead my ass." katsuki scoffs, squishing your cheeks in his palm. "i hate being out of the loop on shit, you know that."

"would it kill you to not be a killjoy ? where's your whimsy ? your child's soul ?" you whine.

"whatever the fuck that means." katsuki snarks. you laugh again, and he rolls his eyes. "as long as whatever you got planned doesn't take up my whole damn day, then do what you want."

now it's your turn to roll your eyes "no need to worry, i won't be interfering with your plans to sleep in."

"our plans. you're not going anywhere." your boyfriend corrects.

"i have no say in it, do i ?" you tease.

he pokes your cheek. "nope. s'my birthday." he responds simply.

you laugh "you're using that as some sort of cheat code now ?"

when your laughter dies down he's still looking down at you. eyes, droopy with sleep sure, but with something soft inside of them. they glow illuminated by the light of the moon outside.

"what ?"

"nuffin." he sighs, still just looking down at you. his fingers run across your face, your cheeks and eyebrows and nose so softly, so unlike him (he of course has to take the opportunity to squeeze your nose, but you decide not to ruin the moment).

"yeah, right. c'mon what is it?" you urge. katsuki scoffs "so damn persistent." he reprimands. he shushes you when you remind him that "that's why you like me so much!"

"m'just..thinkin'."

"about..?" you wiggle higher up until you can kiss his chin. he sighs again , smiling to himself.

"about...this really annoying girl."

you glare up at him, he smirks. "oh yeah ?" you deadpan.

"oh, yeah. a real pain in the ass. always talkin' back to me and bothering me. planning surprises and other stupid things for my birthday every year. " he taunts.

you roll your eyes again "she sounds like a fun time. sounds to me like you just don't know how to have any fun." you grouch. katsuki laughs, of course he does, dickhead.

"yeah, well. as annoying as she is...she is a pretty damn fun time." he admits softly "real damn sweet too...probably too sweet for me.."

you look up at him in surprise. he squeezes your nose to avoid you and you swipe at his hand. he continues talking while you're distracted. "but i'm glad she chose to be with an asshole like me, and..." he leans down to press a peck between your brows.

"..and there's nothing else i'd like more for my birthday then to spend it with her again next year. even if we do lame, boring shit like staying in or doing whatever."

you feel your heart squeeze almost painfully tight. your cheeks pull up so hard you feel your jaw hurt, but you're so unbearably happy.

so unbearably happy you get to spend another year of his life with him.

you lean in to kiss him. "well, i don't know about her surprises, but mine's gonna blow your socks off. s'gonna make you cry like you did last year."

he scoffs, planting another kiss to your lips. "i didn't cry, dickwad. that's your mind making shit up." he denies.

"yeah, okay" you laugh, and with one final kiss you pull back to look at your love, with all the love you had for him. "happy birthday, katsuki."

and he smiles back, softly, and only reserved for moments like this with you.

yeah, it sure was. happy fuckin' birthday to him.

face masks k. bakugo

thinking about cutesy domestic bakugo..... just chilling in bed with him.... sweet pillow talk while you sit in his lap....

fluff, fem!reader

you straddled bakugo's lap, the cold, dark blue clay masks adorning your faces almost making him laugh. his calloused fingers gently rubbed the back of your hands.

"just so you know i'm never doing this girly skincare shit with you ever again," he gruffly commented, playfully mocking you.

"it's not girly to have good skin, suki," you teasingly replied, eyes tracing his chiseled features.

"are you saying i don't have good skin?" he asks, eyes narrowing at your comment.

"it could be better," you tease in response, hands moving to hold his own.

taglist - @justmylvr @lwcedribbons @im0nsaturn @n3r0-5352 @dvartefox @failurewater @f0reverfaded @t0asty1 @iv-vee @mp3nai @straows @grenadehearts

ⓒ luvseraph

Hi! First off, I love your writing. The way you unfold a story feels so natural, and you manage to evoke so much emotion with a simple, concise style. I was so over my Bakugo phase after moving on from MHA, but somehow, your writing brought back just a little of those old feels.

So, if you're up for it, could I request a Bakugo x ex-villain reader? Maybe she’s taken in by U.A. after deciding to leave her villainous family but struggles to fit in. Bakugo, begrudgingly, helps since he kinda knows what it’s like to be treated like a ticking time bomb. Just pure fluff. Thank you!

a spark in the ashes, ft. katsuki bakugo x ex-villian!reader

note: THANKKK YOUUU SO MUCHHH!! I love when people compliment me on my writing, it’s such a mood booster to continue on doing something I adore so much and I’m happy I was able to get you hooked back onto his character again! I would be down to write this and I hope you like it, mwaa🫂💓.

The halls of U.A. were much louder than you expected.

Even though you had spent years watching the school from the shadows, studying its heroes, dissecting their every move for weaknesses, you had never imagined what it felt like to walk among them. The sheer energy of the place buzzed in your ears—the laughter, the chatter, the casual way students moved like they belonged. It was something you had never felt before.

Not truly.

You pulled your hoodie lower over your face, trying to avoid the sideways glances thrown your way. Even after Principal Nezu personally vouched for you, even after Eraserhead took responsibility for your rehabilitation, the whispers never stopped.

“That’s her, right? The villain’s daughter?”

“Why would U.A. even let someone like that in?”

“Bet she’ll snap any day now.”

It wasn’t that unexpected. You had lived your entire life being feared—first because of your family, then because of the things you had done in their name. Changing sides didn’t erase the past. And it certainly didn’t erase the scars.

You just wished it hurt a little less.

As you moved down the hallway, pretending not to hear the murmurs, someone shouldered past you. Hard.

“Tch. Move it, dumbass.”

You barely caught yourself before stumbling, snapping your gaze up to glare at the culprit.

Bakugo Katsuki.

Of course it was him.

The moment you locked eyes, his crimson gaze flickered with something unreadable. You expected hatred—after all, he had more reason than most to despise you. Instead, his eyes darted away, his expression twisting in annoyance.

“Quit starin’,” he muttered before storming off.

You scowled after him, muttering, “Asshole,” under your breath.

You had been warned about him, mostly by Kaminari and Kirishima. “Bakugo’s got a rough way of showing it, but he’s not as bad as he seems,” they had said. “He’s just… difficult.”

You weren’t sure you believed them.

But then again, weren’t you the last person who should be judging others?

Training was hell.

Not because it was physically demanding—you were used to that. Grueling workouts, endless sparring sessions, pain that lingered for days afterward—it was all second nature to you. Your past had ensured that.

No, what made this particularly hellish was teamwork.

No one trusted you enough to be their partner, and honestly, you didn’t blame them. But Aizawa wasn’t about to let you get away with isolating yourself.

“You’ll be paired with Bakugo,” he had said, voice flat and unyielding. “Neither of you seem to grasp the concept of cooperation, so you’re going to learn it—together.”

You had barely swallowed back a groan before a familiar scoff filled the air.

“Tch. This is stupid,” Bakugo muttered, standing beside you with his arms crossed, looking as irritated as you felt. “Why the hell do I have to babysit her?”

You arched a brow, unimpressed. “Wow. With that attitude, I can totally see why people love working with you.”

His crimson eyes snapped to you, narrowing. “Hah? The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You huffed, turning your gaze back to Aizawa. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“I wasn’t asking,” Aizawa replied, already walking away.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in irritation, but didn’t argue. You sighed, rolling your shoulders before turning to face him properly.

“Fine,” you muttered. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He scoffed. “Finally, something we agree on.”

The exercise was straightforward: navigate through a series of obstacles while evading and neutralizing the ‘villain’ bots. Success depended on strategy, agility, and—most importantly—teamwork.

Which meant you were screwed.

Not even two minutes in, and you were already at each other’s throats.

“Would you stop blowing everything up for five seconds?!” you snapped, dodging the debris from yet another one of his reckless explosions.

“Shut the hell up! This is my way of doin’ things!”

“Yeah? Well, your way is getting us nowhere!”

You could see it clearly—Bakugo was powerful, but he wasn’t thinking ahead. He was acting purely on instinct, relying on brute force. It was effective, sure, but inefficient.

And it was driving you crazy.

“Stop being so stupidly aggressive and—”

A bot lunged toward him from behind.

You moved before thinking, grabbing his wrist and yanking him backward. Your body twisted mid-air, and in one swift motion, you fired an energy blast, knocking the bot away before it could strike.

For a moment, everything was still.

Then, you realized—Bakugo was staring at you.

Not in anger. Not in irritation.

Just staring.

His crimson eyes flickered with something unreadable as he glanced from your grip on his wrist to your face. It was only then that you became aware of how close you were, your fingers wrapped tightly around his skin, the heat of his body radiating against yours.

You immediately let go, stepping back. “What?”

His gaze lingered a second longer before he scoffed, shaking his wrist like he was trying to erase the memory of your touch. “Nothin’.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You sure? Because for a second there, it almost seemed like you—”

“Shut up.”

You smirked. “Didn’t know you could get flustered, Bakugo.”

He bristled immediately. “Hah?? I’m not flustered!”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

His eye twitched.

Despite the bickering, something shifted after that.

You noticed how, for the rest of the exercise, Bakugo actually started to listen. He still barked orders, still acted like he was the one in charge, but his movements weren’t as reckless. He adjusted his pace, matched your rhythm, and—most surprising of all—he didn’t complain when you took the lead on strategy.

By the time you reached the checkpoint, you were both panting, covered in dust and sweat.

But you had won.

And for once, you didn’t feel like you had done it alone.

Bakugo exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. “well, i guess your way doesn’t suck completely.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the almost compliment.

Then, a slow grin spread across your lips. “Wow. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me today.”

He clicked his tongue, looking away. “Don’t get used to it, dumbass.”

And yet—

Somehow, you knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

Over time, things started to change.

It wasn’t immediate—Bakugo was still Bakugo, all sharp edges and loud shouting, and you were still you, struggling to figure out where you fit in this world. But little by little, he stopped treating you like a threat.

He’d still shove past you in the halls, but it wasn’t as aggressive. He still called you names, but they lacked venom.

And then there were the little things.

Like how he always seemed to end up in the same training group as you. Or how, when people whispered about your past, he was the one who shut them up.

It all came to a head one evening.

The rooftop was quiet.

The world stretched out before you, city lights blinking in the distance, casting a faint glow against the dark sky. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of the earth below, the lingering traces of smoke from Bakugo’s explosions still clinging to your uniform.

You had come up here to be alone.

But, of course, he found you anyway.

You didn’t turn when the door creaked open behind you, didn’t even acknowledge his presence as he stepped closer. The familiar weight of him, the quiet heat, settled beside you, but he didn’t speak.

That was the thing about Bakugo—he never did anything he didn’t want to do. Which meant if he was here, it wasn’t because he felt obligated.

It was because he chose to be.

“You always come up here to sulk?” His voice was gruff, but there was no real bite behind it.

You huffed out a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t sulk.”

He gave a low scoff. “Coulda fooled me.”

Silence stretched between you.

The wind whistled softly, ruffling your hair, sending a chill across your skin. But you barely felt it. The weight pressing against your chest was heavier than the cold.

“I just needed some air,” you muttered eventually, pulling your knees up to your chest. “Needed to clear my head.”

Bakugo didn’t respond right away. Instead, you heard the faint rustle of fabric as he shifted, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees.

You should have expected what came next.

“You thinkin’ about them?”

You flinched.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeves, the answer already there—resting just behind your teeth.

Of course you were.

No matter how far you ran, no matter how much you tried to bury the memories, your past had a way of finding you. The voices of your family still echoed in your head, their lessons burned into your bones.

“You can’t trust heroes. You can’t trust anyone.”

“They will never accept you.”

“People like us? We don’t get happy endings.”

Your throat felt tight.

“I just…” You exhaled, rubbing a hand down your face. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Bakugo finally turned his head, his gaze sharp, unwavering. “Do what?”

You swallowed, barely managing to force the words out.

“Be a hero. Change.”

The confession hung heavy in the air.

For a long moment, Bakugo didn’t say anything. He just looked at you—really looked, his crimson eyes dark and unreadable.

Then, finally, he scoffed.

“You already did the hardest part, dumbass.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He leaned back, stretching his legs out, staring at the sky. His voice was lower now, quieter.

“You left.”

You frowned. “So?”

“So that means you already made your choice,” he said simply. “Ain’t easy to walk away from everything you’ve ever known.”

Your breath caught.

Because the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like he understood—made something in your chest tighten.

“Doesn’t feel like it’s enough,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “People don’t see me as a hero. They see me as… as them. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it’s like I’m always one step away from proving them right.”

You didn’t know why you were telling him this.

Maybe because he was the only one who wouldn’t look at you with pity. Maybe because, despite everything, Bakugo had never once treated you like you were fragile.

Or maybe because, deep down, you knew—he understood.

Bakugo exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You think I don’t get that?”

You turned to him, brow furrowing.

He scoffed. “People look at me like I’m gonna snap any day now. Like I’m some kinda walking disaster just waiting to go off.” His hands curled into fists, resting against his thighs. “You think I don’t hear ‘em whisperin’? Saying I’m too aggressive, too dangerous to be a hero?”

You stared at him, lips parting slightly.

You had known, of course. Everyone knew that Bakugo was intense. That he was loud and brash and prone to violence.

But you had never really thought about what that meant for him.

Because heroes weren’t supposed to be like that. Heroes were supposed to be bright and shining and perfect.

Bakugo wasn’t.

And neither were you.

Slowly, your fingers unclenched.

“It’s exhausting,” you murmured, voice soft. “Always feeling like you have to prove something.”

Bakugo let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Another stretch of silence.

Then—

“fuck.” He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. “Screw ‘em.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, stretching his legs out again, his knee bumping against yours slightly. “People are always gonna talk shit. Always gonna expect the worst. So what? That don’t mean they’re right.”

You stared at him.

He turned his head slightly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “At the end of the day, the only thing that matters is what you do. So either let ‘em win, or prove ‘em all wrong.”

A lump formed in your throat.

Because—damn it.

For all his yelling, for all his rough edges and sharp words—Bakugo meant it.

He believed in you.

Maybe not in the loud, obvious way that others did. But it was there, hidden beneath the gruff exterior, in the way he was sitting here—choosing to be here.

For you.

Something inside you shifted.

Something warm, something steady.

You let out a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah. I think… I think I can do that.”

Bakugo scoffed, nudging your knee with his. “Damn right you can, dumbass.”

You laughed—a real, genuine laugh. The first in a long time.

And for the first time since stepping into U.A., for the first time since choosing to leave your past behind—

You didn’t feel so alone.

SAKURASZN © 2025 !

keep it in your pocket

hi hi! i love your writing love! i was wondering could i request taking care of different characters (any you would like) while they’re sick? maybe some characters will be clingy or stubborn (etc.) thank you so much for reading!

let me heal you.

dazai / chuuya / akutagawa

a/n: heyhey! i hope u enjoy this writing and the characters picked out, ml!

contents: fluffy + sfw - implied fem! reader // ooc!chuuya?? - dazai being clingy / akutagawa being stubborn / use of pet names / akutagawa calling reader ‘brat, idiot’ / reader being a lil mean to dazai / mentions of pills in akutagawa’s part (dw its just meds to make him feel better^^) / not proofread!!!

bsd m.list | main m.list

dazai.

- this man will whine non-stop, pls slap him.

“‘bellaaaa!!”

you groan and roll your head back as you hear your boyfriend whine once again from the other room. you stand up with a sigh and walk over to your shared bedroom, and you see dazai bundled up in a makeshift burrito on the futon.

“it hurtsss…” he whines with a pout on his face, and you hum and crouch down near him. “what’s wrong now?" you move your hand to run through dazai’s chocolate brown locks, passing through small knots and untangling them.

“it hurts…” dazai grumbles. you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose with your free hand. “you need to be more specific." “everything! everything hurtsss!! please make it go awayy!” you narrow your eyes, “how am i supposed to do that?” he hums and pulls his arms out from under the blanket, making grabby hands at you.

“seriously?”

“what are you, a kid?” you grumble, begrudgingly getting under the covers with dazai. he immediately wraps his arms around you and snuggles into the crook of your neck. “i swear, if you get me sick-” “stop complaining, ‘bella.”

chuuya.

- he’s so not used to being pampered, pls be patient w/ him

“you don’t have to do all this." “but i want to do this.” you place a plate of breakfast on his lap, him sitting up in bed. “here, eat.” chuuya just looks down at the plate, not moving. you sigh and move your hand to rest on top of his, “c’mon chuuya, eat something."

“sorry.”

he mutteres that one word so suddenly it kinda takes you for suprise. you furrow your eyebrows and say, "sorry? for what?” “i’m just not used to all this." you smile and move your hand up to cup his cheek, making him look at you, "well, you better get used to it, because i’m here now."

he smiles, a light tinge on a blush on his face. “thank you, doll, love ya," you nod, “love you too." you let go of his face and handed him a pair of chopsticks, “now, eat."

akutagawa.

- this bitch. he doesn’t want ur help but he also doesn’t want you to leave

“where are you going?” akutagawa grumbles, his arms crossed, “you made it clear you don’t want my help, so i’m leaving.” there’s a beat of silence before akutagawa finally speaks “i never said i want you to leave, idiot, stay.” you sigh and shake your head, “i need you to cooperate with me.”

“…fine.”

you smile and walk back over to where akutagawa is laying down, and you sit down next to him on the bed. “here,” you reach and grab the water you got for him earlier as well as some medicine, helping him up, you hand him the water and pills. you watch as he takes the pills and drinks the rest of the water, “that’ll make you feel a lil better…” you smile at him, giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead.

he pauses, a light blush on his face. he coughs into his hand, looking away while mumbling something,

“i love you, even if you’re a brat.”

you chuckle and roll your eyes that the irony of his words, “i love you to, ryu.”

© 2023 nightv4mps.

when you don’t say “i love you” back to bakugou.

Bakugou says, “I love you,” every time he’s about to leave the house without you. It’s something that he got from his father, and to put it simply, he got influenced.

He’s about to finish putting on his hero gear. His gauntlets were already in place, his boots laced, and his mask pushing his hair away from his face—kind of like how he wore it during high school whenever it wasn’t necessary to wear it properly.

And there you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor without a care in the world.

Books were scattered around you in piles, organized by some system only you seemed to understand. You were focused as you murmured to yourself quietly, comparing sizes, genres, and authors, completely absorbed in your task of organizing the living room’s bookshelf.

“I’m heading out.”

“Mmhm,” you replied absentmindedly, holding up two books and tilting your head as if the slight angle would help you decide which belonged on the top shelf.

Bakugou frowned, his brow twitching. “Oi, did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes,” you said, still not looking at him. “Be careful, Katsuki.”

He let out a huff, running a hand through his hair. He was used to you getting lost in your little projects, but this felt different (were you playing a prank on him?). He stepped closer, crouching down beside you to meet your eye level. “Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone,” he said, softer this time.

“I won’t.”

Still not looking at him. Unbelievable.

To Bakugou, it felt like being thrown through a building and back—and he wasn’t even exaggerating because it actually happened to him once! And he could definitely conclude that the feeling’s similar when you’re ignoring (not paying that much attention to) him.

Bakugou watched you for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he sighed. “I love you,” he murmured, his tone quieter.

“Uh-huh. Have a good day at work.”

Just as Bakugou was about to stand back up, he blinked, the words sinking in slowly. His brow furrowed as the realization hit him—he’s so confused.

You didn’t say it back.

“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you—because you didn’t even hear him.

He huffed, taking the book you were inspecting as he let your hands fall on his arms instead.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” you glanced at him, your expression innocent as if nothing unusual had happened.

“You didn’t say it back,” he said, his tone sharp, though there was a hint of disbelief beneath the irritation.

The audacity you had. After almost always saying “I love you” to him to the point where Bakugou realized he couldn’t go on his day without hearing it, you decide to not say it now?

What’s next? You’re going to tell him you want a divorce? He’s overreacting, he thinks.

“Say what back?”

He clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing faintly. “I said I love you, dumbass.”

Realization dawned on your face, followed by a sheepish smile. That smile—the one that managed to win him over—it’s so infectious it might as well be a cause of an epidemic.

“Oh! Katsuki, I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“Tch,” he muttered, looking away from you. “Yeah, I noticed.”

You leaned closer to where he was crouching, squeezing his forearm softly, your touch light and apologetic. “You know I love you too, right?”

He side-eyed you, his scowl deepening, though it was clear his annoyance was fading.

“Doesn’t count if I gotta remind you,” Bakugou grumbled—almost pouting.

Your laughter bubbled out, so familiar that Bakugou was reminded where his home is, as you then held his face gently—then squishing his cheeks so that his lips are puckered. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “I’ll make sure to say it next time, promise.”

“Better keep thath promish,” he muffled out.

“I will,” you assured him, loosening your hold as you gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Strawberry-flavored chapstick, one of Bakugou’s favorites whenever you kiss him.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He tried to maintain his frown, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as you kissed him once more. “You better.”

“Now go save the day, my hero.”

With a sigh, Bakugou leaned away from you, his posture reluctant to even leave you. He made his way to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder one last time. You were looking at him, blowing him lots of kisses with the emphasized “mwah!”

“Don’t get so caught up in your books that you forget I exist,” he tells you.

You smiled, nodding along. “Never.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too! Text me when you get to your agency; love you lots!” That’s better.

As he closed the door behind him, Bakugou shook his head, muttering to himself, “Ignored for some damn books. Unbelievable.”

Still, despite his grumbling, the faint smile on his face said he wasn’t really mad.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

Bakugou doesn’t beg. It’s not in his blood— the word “please” lays foreign on his tongue, absent from his vocabulary.

He didn’t beg for UA to accept him when he was 15, he hadn’t begged when death came knocking on his doors in the Great War at 17. Because begging feels like a thousand stabbing knives— the walls he built: of pride, of faux confidence, of insecurity, they all shatter and crumble at your feet when the word “please” escapes his pharynx like tumbleweed.

Nitroglycerin reduces the things around him to ruins, explosions casted from the epicentres of his palm with agglomerated sweat that fuels his destruction. He becomes a ground of ruins.

“Please” don’t leave me. “Please” I’m sorry.

Bakugou never had a habit of begging, but when he’s at your doorstep at midnight, shirt crinkling between his fingers, sweat drapes over his entire being.

(He becomes a ground of ruins.)

Please.

i like it when you tell me what to do. —osamu dazai.

contains: dirty talk, playful!reader, mafia executive!dazai, if you think about it the positioning of furniture here is kinda weird, teasing, kinda dom reader maybe a switch, masochism (and sadism), gun play, unprotected sex, edge play

warning: unedited🤧

dazai's mischievous smirk greeted you as soon as your eyes met when he padded his thumb to your lips, raising your chin up.

playing with your bottom lip, you licked his thumb, slightly biting it to fully suck it. "ah, belladonna, i like this shade on you, i cannot wait to smear it off you."

you were then pulled to face your reflection as he kept your arms behind you, pulling bandages to restrain you. you tugged playfully as his grip tightens around your wrist.

trailing the tip of his nose on the side of your face, you meet his gaze and lowly chuckle at his dalliance. "you're losing your touch osamu," freeing yourself from the knot of his bandages, you roughly cup his jaw, dragging his face onto your height.

"you're not as fast as you were," you whisper as you lead a hot path to his ear.

with one swift motion of turning you and pushing you to his desk, you suddenly find yourself bending over—with his arm weighting your back, keeping you from standing.

"that's where you're wrong belladonna," his teeth grazing at your jaw, the barrel of his gun trailing up and down your leg to your thigh. "mhm?" you mindlessly hummed, your tone teasing. "i stay the same, if not better."

"as you do," he chuckled, his fingers making their way to your soaking folds. "my hands easily turn you into this wet mess, like the whore you are."

"and you easily get hard because of my dainty fingers," you smirked, stroking his hard length through his tight pants. "are you trying to out-whore me, osamu? hmm?"

while he enjoyed pressing his hard-on on your behind, you took advantage of breaking free off his hold and facing him, your back now at the table.

taking his semi-soaked gun, you licked your juices off the tip of the barrel and teasingly trailed it to the tight part of his slacks. up and down the barrel went, tracing the outline of his hardness.

dazai's mischievous smirk and occasional moans clouded your thoughts yet followed what his eyes wanted. "i like it when you do things to me, bella," he moaned. you notice a growing damp spot on the tight spot.

"like this?" you chuckled, tenderly pulling him into a kiss, slowly biting his lower lip until it bled, all the while cocking his gun and drawing a trail up and down his neck and torso.

"mhm," he whispered onto your teeth, saliva and blood mixing."

after a few more mindless patterns, you settled the tip of his barrel on his chest, directly above his heart.

his eyes glimmered with the same excitement whenever he faced danger. you pulled the trigger but none came. you continued dancing with his tongue, ravaging each other's mouths.

strings of saliva stretched from your mouths as soon as you gasped for air. laughing with your partner.

dazai grabbed at your hand, placing it onto his tight pants. he leaned on your neck only to beg and to bite for a few licks.

"tell me what to do with this, i like it when you tell me what to do."

as he let go of your settled hand, you feel the cold barrel traversing your back, following the trail of your spine.

as if a damsel in distress, you dramatically sighed and slightly opened your legs. "do the work for me osamu."

"but that's no fun," he gritted out, turning to you for him to face your behind. his feet pusing your legs on both sides to make room as he unbuckled his belt.

"do you love it when i fuck you from behind?" he whispered dramatically, his gun trailing your side.

"do you like being allowed to fuck me at all, osamu?" you replied with your usual seductive tone, your nails playing with his chin and your thumb padding his bloodied lower lip.

"would you rather like being fucked from behind," you teased, now gripping his dripping cock.

"i would love to, ah—," he moaned as he hungrily claimed your mouth as you pumped.

as if on cue, his gun stopped on the side of your head. without any second thought, he pulled the trigger, but none came.

"just like that, ah, yes—" with his head mindlessly drawn back, his face drunk on pleasure, you slowly intensified your strokes as you pushed his back to his desk where he found his knuckles tightly gripping its edges.

"mhm, ah, bella, you do me so good."

pornographic moans reverbated in the room as both of you panted, restlessly trailing each other's hands, fighting for dominance before the other takes over.

after successfully pinning your back to the same position on his desk, he teasingly rubs his hard dick on your now exposed ass, slowly drawing mindless lines up and down your behind and inner wet folds.

you grind on his hardness, smirking mischievously after his huffs of groans. with both your bodies sticky from sweat and pleasure, you couldn't help but moan with him as he went in.

the chorus of both your low and seductive chuckles filled the air. "ah bella, you make me believe in heaven when we're like this."

with dazai thrusting in and out of you like a maniac it was only natural that he lost his focus on your restraints. you were able to twist your body to face him, delaying his near nirvana.

he grinned like a maniac as you gripped on his exposed hard on. "kneel," you commanded through your teeth.

it took a swift second before you sat yourself on his desk, opening your exposed wetness. "osamu, you're forgetting something," you opened your legs wider.

his lips slowly climbed from the tip of your toe to your inner thighs. he sighed, taking in the warmth. he slowly lapped on your folds. when he gets a little too excited, you grip on his hair to withdraw him from you.

"ah, bella you must be a goddess to turn my pains into this pleasure," he moans.

SHARING IS (NOT) CARING: PROFESSOR!DAZAI

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he has to teach your class for the day, but there's no way either of you will be able to focus with you sitting in the front row.

contents: fem!reader. college AU. professor x student. not proofread and written in under five minutes. i forgot how to write dazai, whoops. i'll probably write more in this AU later on bc i think it has potential. -1K words.

professor!dazai is well aware that he shouldn't be romantically involved with a student, but justifies it to himself by reasoning that you're not in his class, so it should be okay. even though your university's policy allows teacher-student relationships if they aren't in the same field, he still tries to keep it mostly a secret—after all, he wouldn't want to risk anything on your part.

but one day, your professor's absent, and luckily (or not), dazai's the only one available to step in for the day. imagine his surprise when he realizes that the class he hesitantly agreed to sub for today was your class, and as luck would have it, you sit in the front row.

"alright, class, i don't really know what you're supposed to be doing, but—"

"there should be an outline on the desk, sir," the girl next to you pipes up, smiling bashfully at dazai. he pauses and nods at her gratefully, doing his best to not make eye contact with you as he skims over the outline. you're equally as unsure as he is, because you never expected to be in this situation: with your boyfriend as your actual professor, even if it was just for a day.

"oh, great, i have to give a lecture," dazai grumbles, holding the papers in the same hand that's also holding a cup of steaming hot coffee. he sighs, eyes professionally surveying the room before finally settling on you. "would you mind giving me a quick summary of whatever you're supposed to be learning today?" he asks, hiding his little smile behind the cup of coffee he presses to his lips.

you nod, but right before you open your mouth, the girl next to you speaks up again. "i can do it, professor," she offers, beaming at dazai as if she's the personification of joy and happiness. and it's almost comical, the way dazai barely spares her a glance before returning his attention to you.

so you give him a brief summary of what your actual professor had said your class would be covering today, and dazai nods along, eyes focused intently on the outline in his hand. when you finish speaking, he stays quiet for another second before shrugging and sitting down at the teacher's desk. "i'll just find a video on it, 'cause i don't know enough to teach the subject. and honestly, i don't want to, either."

as expected.

twenty minutes go by with some youtuber's monotone voice droning on in the background, but instead of studiously taking notes (like you should be doing), you find yourself staring at dazai instead. his eyes are fixed on his phone, and it's a mystery to everyone in the room as to what he's doing. it's only when you pick up your own phone to check the time do you see a bunch of missed messages from him:

osamu: this class is so boring

osamu: how do u sit through this every. day.

osamu: i'm already falling asleep wtf

osamu: babe answer me :(

osamu: do you hate me :( if not answer me :(

you bite your lip in a futile effort to hide the smile that's threatening to grow on your lips, which would be suspicious, considering that there's practically nothing to smile about in this dull lecture hall.

you: shut up i'm trying to focus

dazai shoots you a subtle grin from his spot up front and replies quickly enough to make you wonder if all this time, he's just been staring at your name on his phone.

osamu: ik you're not paying attention

osamu: play me in 8 ball

you: no

"you in the front," dazai calls from his desk, clearly directing his voice towards you. he raises an eyebrow coyly, and continues, "shouldn't you be taking notes?"

the girl next to you snickers, not seeming to catch the look you give her. dazai clears his throat and looks at you pointedly, obviously trying not to show his amusement.

"okay," you mutter, shooting dazai a vicious death glare. he winks back at you, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"what was that?" he asks in response, pretending not to have heard you. it's embarrassingly obvious that he's just messing with you, and you wonder why you ever agreed to date this man in the first place—of course he'd pull something like this the one day he gets to have authority over you.

"yes, professor," you say with a witheringly forced smile. dazai's smile turns uncertain as he dips his head in reply and instantly picks up his phone.

osamu: i'm sorry pls don't make me sleep on the couch

you: i won't :)

you: you'll be out on the porch tonight :)

osamu: wait no

osamu: i love u

osamu: pls don't do this to me ilysm

"hey," the girl next to you whispers, drawing your attention away from your phone and to her uncomfortably close voice. "isn't professor dazai hot?"

she's not a quiet whisperer, and something about dazai's forcibly calm expression makes you certain that he can hear every word. "i guess," you answer noncommittally. hopefully, your tone doesn't betray how close you are to clawing out your eyes.

"do you think he's single?"

"no. and even if he was, i doubt you'd be his type," you reply with a sickeningly sweet smile. dazai coughs into his arm, obviously trying to hide the laugh he had just choked out. the girl's eye twitches, and you hold your smile until she rolls her eyes and looks away.

osamu: ur so funny i'll kms

you: ur still sleeping on the porch.

osamu: babe :(