Find your tribe in a Sea of Creativity
Bakugo x Fem!Reader + Daughter Chaos + Newborn Baby
Genre: Humor, Family, Fluff
Warning: Embarrassment levels are HIGH
---
You had just settled into the rocking chair, your newborn daughter latched onto your boob like it owed her money.
It was peaceful. Quiet. Almost too quiet.
Cue your four-year-old, stomping into the room like she owned the place, holding a suspiciously empty juice box.
“MOMMY!” she gasped. “IS SHE EATING YOU?!”
You blinked. “What?”
She pointed, eyes wide in betrayal. “THE BABY! SHE’S EATING YOUR BOOB!”
Bakugo, walking past with a burp cloth, froze in place like a dead NPC.
“She’s not eating me, honey,” you tried to say calmly, even though your soul had left your body from secondhand embarrassment. “It’s called breastfeeding.”
Your daughter blinked. “Like...with milk?!”
You nodded. “Yes. Mommies make milk for babies. It’s how they eat before they can have real food.”
She stared. Then stared harder.
“So you're a cow now?”
Bakugo wheezed from behind the couch.
You glared at him. “Do not laugh. I swear to God.”
He coughed into his fist. “Nope. Not laughing. Totally serious.”
Your daughter looked suspicious. “So when I was a baby, I drank from your boobs too?”
You nodded.
She screamed like she was in a horror movie.
“WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THIS?! I THOUGHT I JUST ATE APPLESAUCE!”
Bakugo was crying now. Fully crying.
“I’m never drinking milk again,” your daughter declared. “Ever. Never ever.”
“Good,” Bakugo said. “More for the baby.”
She turned to him, dramatic as ever. “Daddy, are your boobs full of milk too?”
You both stared.
Bakugo went redder than his hero costume. “No. No, they are not. And never will be.”
“But you got big ones,” she said, poking his chest.
You immediately whispered, “Rip, bro.”
Bakugo looked like he needed a support group.
---
Later that night…
Bakugo was laying face-down on the couch. “She called me a milk tank.”
“She’s just confused,” you said, cradling your newborn.
“She moo’d at me.”
“She’s four.”
He sat up. “I’m buying a book. No. A chart. A PowerPoint. I’m explaining everything before she thinks I lay eggs next.”
You snorted. “Go ahead. She still thinks babies come out of bellybuttons.”
He froze. “...I need a beer.”
Can you make a story like the one where Mitsuki walked in on reader and Katsuki? <33
Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader
Rating: Spicy / NSFW themes (18+) / Humor / Mild embarrassment
---
The second his bedroom door slammed shut behind you, Katsuki’s lips were already on yours — all heat and hunger, like he’d been starving all day and you were the only thing on the menu.
“God, I needed this,” he growled against your mouth, hands gripping your hips like you’d disappear if he let go. His body was hot — hotter than usual — like he was running on adrenaline and teenage testosterone.
“You’re so impatient,” you whispered, breathless already as he pushed you back toward his bed.
“You wore that fuckin’ skirt on purpose.”
You smiled, smug. “Maybe.”
He groaned, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. One hand slipped under your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your bare skin. You barely made it to the edge of the bed before he practically tackled you onto it, his mouth never leaving yours for more than a second.
His weight, his heat, the way he kissed you like he had something to prove — it had your heart pounding and thighs clenching.
“You know how much I’ve thought about this today?” he muttered, voice low and rough as his mouth trailed down your neck. “Couldn’t even focus in training. Fuckin’ Deku almost got a hit in.”
“Oh no,” you teased. “Not Deku.”
He growled and bit your collarbone just hard enough to make you gasp. “You’re such a brat.”
Your laugh turned into a soft moan when his hand slid up your thigh, under your skirt, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear. “Look who’s talk—”
The door burst open.
“Katsuki, dinner’s—”
Mitsuki Bakugo’s voice cut off mid-sentence.
You froze. Katsuki froze.
“OH MY GOD.”
A beat.
Then:
“MOM, GET OUT!”
Mitsuki was already turning on her heel, shrieking down the hallway. “MASARU! YOUR SON IS DEFILING SOMEONE’S CHILD IN HIS ROOM!”
“Oh my god,” you whispered, mortified, trying to pull your shirt back down and find where the hell your dignity went.
Katsuki looked like he wanted to die. Or explode the entire house. Possibly both.
“I’m gonna burn this whole fuckin’ place to the ground.”
or: That Time Y/N Roasted the Entire Class Before Lunch
---
It started during homeroom.
Y/N had walked into class, late (again), sipping a suspiciously large energy drink and wearing two mismatched socks and a hoodie that definitely wasn’t hers.
“Morning,” she muttered, plopping into her seat.
Silence.
Aizawa raised a brow. “Y/N. Why are you late?”
Y/N blinked. “Because society.”
“…Try again.”
“Because my alarm went off, and I just didn’t respect it.”
“…One more time.”
“I stopped to watch a pigeon fight a squirrel. It felt important.”
Aizawa sighed. “Whatever. Sit down.”
“Oh, I am sitting,” she said, then looked around the room. “And judging.”
Everyone turned to her.
That was when it began.
---
THE NO-FILTER MONOLOGUE
“Denki, you have the fashion sense of a confused lemon. I love you, but why are you wearing two necklaces? Are you dating yourself?”
“Bakugo, I mean this with love — you scream like a dying vacuum cleaner and somehow still pull.”
“Iida, why do you run like someone poured espresso in your engine oil?”
“Todoroki. King. You look like you glitch in real life. Like I stare at you too long and forget my PIN number.”
“Ochako, I adore you, but you sneeze like a cartoon bunny and it freaks me out every time.”
“Sero’s elbows scare me.”
“Sato has main character energy but like, from a sports anime that got canceled too early.”
“Jirou’s music taste makes me feel like I’m about to be stabbed in an emotionally fulfilling way.”
“Momo, your brain is terrifying. I feel like you could invent a murder weapon out of boba tea.”
“Aoyama blinds me once a week. That’s an HR issue.”
“Mina’s energy gives off 'first one to die in a zombie movie but make it iconic.'”
Kirishima: “What about me?”
“You’re too pure. If you ever turn evil, we’re all screwed. You’d kill us and apologize mid-swing.”
Midnight walked in halfway through this and said, “Oh? What’s going on here?”
Y/N turned slowly. “Hi. Love the outfit. You look like if dominatrix Barbie became a pro hero.”
Midnight choked.
Present Mic entered with a coffee and blinked. “Vibe feels chaotic in here. What’d I miss?”
Y/N pointed at him with no hesitation. “You sound like an auctioneer possessed by dubstep.”
“THANK you,” he grinned. “Finally, someone sees it.”
Aizawa, rubbing his temples: “Y/N, what is wrong with you today?”
She sipped her drink. “I had four hours of sleep and a can of something called ‘Monster Lightning Rage X-TREME.’ I can see sound now.”
Bakugo slammed his desk. “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!”
Y/N turned calmly. “Genetics and unresolved trauma.”
---
Later, in the dorms…
“Do you regret anything you said today?” Uraraka asked.
Y/N paused. “Not even a little.”
“Not even the elbow comment?”
“I meant what I said, Sero’s elbows look like they have side quests.”
Sero: “You know what? Fair.”
---
To Be Continued…
Or: That Time UA Regretted Letting Her Out of the Infirmary
---
1. The Great Kitchen Fire (That Technically Wasn’t Her Fault)
It started with a simple craving: pancakes.
It ended with the fire alarm going off, Sato screaming, and Y/N standing on the kitchen counter fanning smoke with a cutting board.
“I said I knew what I was doing!” she yelled over the alarm.
“You poured orange juice in the pan instead of oil!” Sato cried.
“I was improvising! It’s called culinary jazz!”
The microwave exploded.
Present Mic kicked the door open in his pajamas. “WHO SUMMONED ME WITH CHAOS?”
“I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO FLIP ONE,” Y/N wailed.
---
2. The Invisible Wall Incident
Hatsume had been testing a new tech that projected invisible energy barriers.
Y/N, naturally, ran into it face-first with the force of a charging rhino.
“OW. WHY IS THE AIR HARD?!”
“You walked into the new prototype,” Hatsume said cheerfully.
“You should’ve put up a sign!”
“It’s INVISIBLE.”
“I’m suing you for emotional damage and nose betrayal.”
The class watched her dramatically slide down the force field like a tragic soap opera character, leaving behind a forehead print on the invisible wall.
---
3. That Time She Thought a Villain Was a Cosplayer
It was during a field trip.
Y/N wandered off. (Again.)
She came across a guy in a full villain outfit, mask and all, standing ominously in an alley.
“Ooh, your cosplay is AMAZING,” she said, circling him. “Is this original? Or based on some underground manga?”
The villain, confused, hesitated. “Uh… I’m robbing a store.”
“WOW, dedication to the bit!”
“I literally just set a building on fire.”
“You’re really selling it! I can’t even tell if you’re method acting or—WAIT, IS THAT A REAL KNIFE?!”
She came back five minutes later, singed and out of breath.
“Okay so plot twist, that was not a Comic Con side quest.”
---
4. Her Deep, Emotional War With the UA Vending Machine
She was one yen short.
Just. One.
Y/N smacked the machine. Sweet. Nothing.
She begged. It ignored her.
She yelled, “I HAVE SUFFERED FOR THIS SNACK, GIVE ME MY SALTY JUSTICE!”
Bakugo walked by, slapped the machine once, and it coughed out not only her chips, but a second bonus bag.
“I loosened it for you,” Y/N muttered.
Bakugo didn’t even stop walking. “You’re pathetic.”
“I’M THE PEOPLE’S CHAMPION,” she shouted after him, holding both chip bags above her head like trophies.
---
5. The Time She Tried to “Train” the Dorm’s Pet Turtle
Someone brought a turtle back to the dorms. Bad decision. Y/N decided it had “hero potential.”
She built it a cape out of a sock, taped on a cardboard mask, and named it “Shellshock.”
“Today, we conquer the common room,” she whispered to it dramatically.
She tried to make it do laps in the sink.
It turned around and pooped on her hand.
“This is betrayal,” she whispered, looking into its eyes.
Shellshock blinked. Unbothered. Unapologetic.
---
6. Late Night Philosophy (A.K.A. Sleep-Deprived Chaos)
2:39 AM. She wandered into the lounge in fuzzy slippers, wrapped in a blanket, holding a spoon.
Not eating. Just holding it.
“Do you think All Might ever stubbed his toe in his buff form and cried in his skinny form so no one would know?” she asked Kaminari.
“...Go to sleep.”
“Do frogs know they’re frogs?”
“Y/N.”
“Do we all technically taste like chicken?”
“Y/N, PLEASE.”
Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x (platonic) Chubby Little Sister OC
Tags: sibling vibes, soft moments, light bullying, Mitsuki being a mom, grumpy x sunshine
---
“You’re seriously making me babysit her?”
Bakugo’s scowl could’ve cracked concrete. Arms crossed, eyes twitching in irritation, he stared down at the chubby little girl peeking out from behind his mom’s legs.
Mitsuki rolled her eyes. “She’s your sister, Katsuki. And I have errands. You can either watch her or listen to me scream for an hour. Pick.”
He groaned like he was being sentenced to death. “She cries all the damn time.”
“I do not!” she squeaked, voice breaking halfway through. Her round cheeks were already turning pink, her hands clutching the hem of her too-big t-shirt. “You’re just mean!”
“And you’re a crybaby,” Bakugo snapped, already turning toward the living room. “C’mon, Baby Bear. Let’s get this over with.”
She blinked. “Baby… bear?”
“Yeah. Round, soft, and whiny. Don’t get snot on the couch.”
---
At first, she avoided him—tiptoeing around, too scared to even ask to change the channel. Bakugo ignored her just as much, only occasionally tossing a jab like:
“Stop stomping, you sound like a baby Godzilla.”
“Why are you always eating something?”
“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna cry with you.”
But Mitsuki kept forcing them together.
Board games. Movie nights. Grocery trips. He even got roped into walking her home from school once.
And slowly—very slowly—things shifted.
---
She started sitting closer.
He stopped rolling his eyes when she talked.
She’d bring him little snacks she made (badly).
He’d ruffle her hair when she got nervous.
And when she got picked on at school for her weight?
Bakugo showed up the next day, leaned on the classroom doorframe, and said loud enough for everyone to hear:
“You mess with my sister again, I’ll turn your desks into kindling. Got it?”
She didn’t cry that day.
But she did tell him he looked cool.
And for the first time, he only called her “Baby Bear” once that whole day.
---
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
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…
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.
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Katsuki Bakugo
Genre: Comedy, Education Gone Wrong, Parental Panic, Coming-of-(Too-Much)-Knowledge
---
It started with health class.
Specifically, Haruki’s teacher sending out a “Heads Up” email with one horrifying subject line:
> This week: Reproductive Systems & Human Development! Please prep your child accordingly. :)
You showed the email to Bakugo.
He stared at it like it personally threatened him. “Nope.”
“Babe—”
“Nope.”
“They’re gonna hear it anyway. Wouldn’t you rather they hear it from us?”
Bakugo narrowed his eyes. “Then I’m starting with the consequences. No one talks about the awkward socks or the lifetime of trauma.”
---
The Setup
You called a “family meeting.”
Haruki (13) and Hana (11) sat on the couch, suspicious and slightly panicked.
“Are we in trouble?” Hana whispered.
Bakugo crossed his arms. “Not yet.”
You shot him a look. “Guys, your health teacher is starting a unit on… human reproduction. And we figured it’d be better if you heard it from us first.”
Haruki groaned. “Oh no.”
Hana perked up. “You mean like how babies are made?!”
Bakugo: visibly regrets not leaving the country sooner.
---
Stage One: The Basics
You took a breath. “Okay. So. When a male and a female reproduce, the male’s sperm meets the female’s egg.”
Hana raised her hand. “Like in Finding Nemo?”
Bakugo blinked. “We’re not starting with Finding Nemo. There’s no clownfish foreplay in this story.”
Haruki choked.
You glared. “Katsuki.”
“What?! It’s better than pretending it’s magical fairy dust!”
You sighed. “Anyway. The sperm is inside the semen, which is released when the male ejaculates.”
Haruki made a face like he’d just eaten glue. “Ugh.”
Hana frowned. “How does the sperm get in there?”
Bakugo groaned. “Here it comes…”
You smiled awkwardly. “Well… the penis goes inside the vagina, and that’s how the sperm reaches the egg.”
Dead silence.
Haruki’s entire soul left his body.
Hana blinked. “So you and Dad—?”
“NOPE.” Haruki stood up. “I’m out. I’m leaving the planet.”
Bakugo yanked him back down by the hood. “You’re sitting through this. If I had to live it, you’re gonna learn it.”
---
Stage Two: The Details (aka: The Regret)
You powered on. “Once the sperm fertilizes the egg, it implants in the uterus, and grows for about nine months.”
Hana nodded slowly. “So it’s like planting a seed, but gross.”
“Exactly,” Bakugo muttered. “A gross, screaming seed.”
Haruki still looked like he wanted to vanish. “Wait—how do you even know when to do that? Like, is it just random? Do people plan it?”
You and Bakugo exchanged a long, awkward silence.
“…Sometimes it’s planned,” you said carefully.
“Sometimes,” Bakugo added, “you’re just feeling brave. Or stupid.”
You smacked his arm. “Don’t say that in front of them.”
Haruki blinked. “So I was a brave mistake?”
“YOU WERE A LOVE-FILLED ADVENTURE,” you snapped.
Bakugo shrugged. “He wasn’t planned. But he was loud from day one.”
Haruki looked genuinely horrified. “You guys were doing that stuff when you were, like, young?!”
Bakugo grinned wickedly. “Kid. We invented the thunder clap.”
“OH MY GOD—”
---
Stage Three: Existential Crisis
Hana raised her hand again. “Wait. You had to do that two times to make both of us?”
Bakugo tilted his head. “Minimum. We’re not amateurs.”
You smacked his arm so hard his chair squeaked.
Hana gasped. “So you—you did that… a lot?!”
Haruki covered his ears. “LA LA LA I’M NOT LISTENING.”
“WE LIVE HERE,” Hana yelled. “YOU DID THAT HERE?!”
You stood up. “Okay! That’s enough education for one night!”
Haruki fled.
Hana followed, yelling, “WAIT—IF YOU GUYS KISSED THAT MUCH, DID YOU ALSO—OH NOOOO—”
The bedroom door slammed.
Silence.
Bakugo took a long sip of water. “Think they’ll ever look us in the eyes again?”
You grinned. “Not until college.”
He chuckled. “Worth it.”
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Katsuki Bakugo
Genre: Comedy, Complete Breakdown, Teen Drama, Secondhand Trauma
---
Dinner started off normal.
You made katsudon (Bakugo’s favorite). Haruki was unusually quiet. Hana had a suspicious smile. Bakugo was halfway through his second helping, blissfully unaware of the emotional landmine about to detonate.
You should’ve known.
You should’ve known.
It started with Hana.
“So, I think Takeshi might ask me to be his girlfriend.”
Bakugo froze mid-chew. “He better not.”
You gave her a soft smile. “That’s exciting, sweetheart.”
Bakugo narrowed his eyes. “No it isn’t. It’s illegal.”
Haruki jumped in, mouth full of rice. “Takeshi’s not that bad. Better than closet girl.”
Bakugo dropped his chopsticks.
“You wanna repeat that?”
Haruki realized too late that he’d just outed himself. Again. “I—I mean, hypothetically—”
“You were back in the closet?!”
You groaned. “Oh my god, not again.”
Hana leaned back smugly. “I saw them holding hands yesterday.”
Haruki turned bright red. “TRAITOR!”
“She winked at him too,” Hana added, like she was announcing a war crime. “Both eyes.”
Bakugo stood so fast his chair screeched. “THAT’S IT. This dinner is OVER. Everyone to their rooms. No more hormones. NO MORE WINKING.”
You tried to intervene. “Katsuki—”
“Nope. I’m done. I gave the talk. I suffered through The Incident. I read the damn Diary. I survived ClosetGate. And now you’re telling me I’m raising a Romeo and Juliet sequel in my own house?!”
Haruki mumbled, “Technically we’re more like a Rom-Com—”
“SHUT UP, HARUKI.”
Hana, cool as ever, kept sipping her juice. “Don’t worry, Dad. It’s not like I’m gonna kiss him on school property.”
Bakugo wheeled on her. “YES YOU ARE. AND I’LL BE THERE. HIDING IN A BUSH WITH BINOCULARS.”
You snorted so hard you choked.
Haruki tried to sneak another bite of katsudon.
Bakugo caught him mid-chew. “You think you get to eat after all this betrayal?!”
“Dad,” Haruki said around a mouthful, “you need therapy.”
“I need a flamethrower.”
---
Ten minutes later, you were cleaning the kitchen while Bakugo sulked in the corner like a war veteran.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered. “We’re surrounded. Outnumbered. Hormones on all sides.”
You kissed his cheek. “You’ll survive.”
“I miss when they were babies. When they only cried because they wanted snacks, not because some punk told them they had ‘pretty eyes.’”
You laughed. “You’re doing great.”
“I’m dying.”
“You’re surviving.”
He groaned. “Same thing.”
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Katsuki Bakugo
Genre: Comedy, Chaos, Parental Meltdown, The Fear of God™
---
It started with a phone call.
You picked up. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is U.A. Junior High. We need to speak with Haruki’s parent or guardian. It’s… regarding an incident.”
You immediately sat up straighter. “Is he hurt?”
There was a pause.
“…No. But you might want to sit down anyway.”
---
Bakugo showed up to the school thirty minutes later, stomping through the front office like he was about to arrest someone. You trailed behind, apologizing for the murder energy radiating off your husband.
The principal met you both at the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Bakugo. Thank you for coming.”
“Where is he?” Bakugo growled.
The principal adjusted his tie, sweating slightly. “Uh, Haruki is in the guidance office. We… caught him in a compromising position.”
Bakugo’s eyes narrowed.
“Compromising how?”
The principal coughed. “He was found in the janitor’s closet… with a girl.”
Bakugo blinked. Slowly. Like his body had to buffer the information before rage kicked in.
“…I’m sorry. The WHERE?”
“We believe they were… kissing.”
Kissing.
You swore you could hear Bakugo’s soul leave his body.
---
Haruki sat in the guidance office with a cold compress on the back of his neck. Not because he was injured—because the sheer panic had made him sweat so hard the nurse got concerned.
You walked in first. “Sweetheart…”
He looked up like a deer caught in a nuclear explosion.
“M-Mom—I swear—we weren’t doing anything bad!”
“Closet, Haruki?” Bakugo thundered behind you. “The janitor’s closet?! What are you, a soap opera character?!”
Haruki practically jumped out of the chair. “We were just kissing! I didn’t even—I mean—it was only for like ten seconds and—”
“TEN SECONDS?!”
You gently pushed Bakugo back before he combusted. “Let’s take a breath.”
“No!” he snapped. “First he nearly gives me a heart attack with his ‘alone time,’ then I have to give him the world’s most traumatic sex talk, and now he’s reenacting Riverdamndale in the broom closet?! What’s next? A hotel room?! A BABY?!”
Haruki was turning colors.
“I’m not gonna be a dad! I’m a kid! I don’t even know how to do laundry!”
“Damn right you don’t!” Bakugo pointed a finger like it was a loaded weapon. “And if I ever catch wind of you kissing anyone again without supervision, I’m sending you to a monastery.”
“A what?!”
“You’ll have a vow of silence and a celibacy contract by Monday!”
You snorted trying to hold back laughter. “Okay, okay. Enough. We’ll talk about this at home.”
Bakugo leaned down, eye-level with Haruki. “Do you know what I used to do to pervy boys in high school?”
“Traumatize them?”
“Worse. I gave ‘em tips.”
“Wait—what?”
Bakugo smirked. “And then I traumatized ‘em.”
Haruki groaned. “I need a new family.”
---
Later that night…
Bakugo was pacing the kitchen. “A closet, babe. Like, with brooms and mops. That’s not even romantic!”
You sipped your wine. “Be glad it wasn’t the chemistry lab.”
Bakugo paused.
“…We’re homeschooling him.”
This one is rlly long😭
☆☆☆
The hospital reeked of antiseptic and tension. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead as Bakugo Katsuki paced the floor like a caged animal. His hands—usually steady in battle—trembled slightly. Outside the delivery room, his world was unraveling.
"Mr. Bakugo," the nurse called gently. "She’s in distress. We’re doing everything we can."
He didn’t answer. His crimson eyes were locked on the swinging double doors that had swallowed you hours ago.
You—his wife, his partner, the only person who could call him a dumbass and still get a smile out of him—were behind those doors. And you were fighting a battle even he couldn't charge into fists-first.
Twelve Hours Earlier
Your water had broken in the dead of night. You’d barely gotten a full sentence out before Bakugo was already tossing clothes into a bag and barking at the cab company over the phone. By the time you reached the hospital, contractions were tearing through you like lightning, each one worse than the last.
Something wasn’t right.
The baby was breach. Your blood pressure spiked. You were losing too much blood. They rushed you into an emergency delivery, voices sharp and fast. Bakugo hadn’t been allowed in.
Present
Time blurred. Katsuki hated feeling useless more than anything. He should be in there. He should be beside you, holding your hand, telling you it was going to be okay even if his chest felt like it was going to explode.
A sudden scream tore through the hall. Your scream.
His knees buckled. He hadn’t even heard himself move before he was slamming into the door, fists glowing faintly, ready to break it down—
"Sir!" a nurse barked, shoving him back. "You can't go in there!"
"That’s my damn wife!" he snarled. "Let me—"
The screaming stopped.
Too abruptly.
Bakugo froze. The world stopped moving.
Seconds felt like eternities until finally, the doors opened and a doctor stepped out, blood on her scrubs and exhaustion in her eyes.
"She’s alive," she said softly. "And so is your son. But it was close. Too close."
His legs gave out and he collapsed into the nearest chair. His hands covered his face as air finally returned to his lungs. Alive. You were both alive.
"You can see her now."
He stood shakily, pushing into the room. You looked like hell—pale, exhausted, barely able to lift your eyelids—but when you saw him, a weak smile curved your lips.
"You look like shit," you whispered.
A choked laugh escaped him. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his lips. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, dumbass.”
Then he saw the tiny bundle in your arms. Wide red eyes—his eyes—blinked up at him.
"Hey, little guy," he said, voice thick. "You’re already causing trouble, huh?"
You laughed faintly, and Bakugo leaned in, touching his forehead to yours.
"Next time," he murmured, "we're adopting."
---
Two Weeks Later
You were finally home.
The scent of sterilized hospital air had been replaced by the warmth of your shared apartment, still littered with unopened baby gifts and half-assembled furniture. It felt surreal, like you had died and somehow gotten a second chance.
Katsuki hadn’t left your side since the hospital.
He’d been quieter than usual—not cold, but... different. Protective. Watchful. The explosions were fewer, the yelling almost nonexistent. And at night, when he thought you were asleep, you caught him just staring—at you, at the baby, at the scar the IV left on your hand.
Like he couldn’t believe either of you were still here.
You shifted slightly on the couch, wincing. Your body still ached like hell. The stitches, the swelling, the pressure—no one talked about how brutal recovery would be. You felt raw. Fragile.
"Katsuki," you called weakly.
He appeared instantly from the kitchen, a bottle in one hand and your pain meds in the other. "Need something?"
"Come sit with me."
He hesitated. "You’re still hurting. I don’t wanna crowd you."
You reached out, fingers curling in the air.
He sighed, set everything down, and slid onto the couch beside you. Carefully. Gently. You leaned your head on his shoulder, your newborn cradled against your chest, tiny breaths warm against your skin.
"He looks like you," you murmured.
"Poor brat," he said, but his voice was soft.
Your fingers laced with his.
"You’ve been quiet."
He didn’t answer for a long time. Then:
"You almost died." His voice cracked. “And I couldn’t do shit about it.”
You turned to look at him, eyes brimming. "But I didn’t. We didn’t. Katsuki, you didn’t leave me. Not for a second. That means everything."
He clenched his jaw. “I’ve fought villains who tried to kill me. I’ve been stabbed, exploded, buried under rubble. I can deal with that. But you, bleeding out and screaming and I couldn’t even touch you—” He broke off. “I’ve never been that fucking scared in my life.”
Tears slipped down your cheek, and you pressed your lips to his temple. “You’re here. I’m here. Our son’s here. That’s all that matters.”
He looked down at the sleeping baby, chest rising and falling in sync with yours. “He’s tiny.”
You smirked. “So were you. Until puberty hit like a damn truck.”
A reluctant chuckle rumbled from him. “If he has even half your stubbornness, we’re screwed.”
“Half yours, you mean,” you teased.
The room went quiet again. You nestled closer, letting yourself breathe in his warmth, his scent. Safe.
“I thought I was ready to be a dad,” he said suddenly. “I trained for it. Got the nursery set up, read every damn book. But the second they handed him to me, I realized I didn’t know shit.”
You smiled sleepily. “You’re already doing perfect.”
“You’re just saying that ‘cause I haven’t blown up a diaper yet.”
You both laughed—quiet, tired, and a little broken, but real.
He looked at you, really looked, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.
“I love you,” he whispered.
You blinked. Bakugo never whispered.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, voice catching.
And for the first time in weeks, you both finally exhaled.
---
Three Months Later
“You sure you’re okay without me for a few hours?” you asked again, already halfway out the door.
Bakugo rolled his eyes, baby monitor clipped to his sweatpants, your son strapped into a carrier on his chest like a slightly confused koala.
“D’you think I can’t handle him or something?” he grumbled.
“I think he shat through three outfits before noon yesterday, and you nearly declared war on baby wipes.”
Katsuki scowled. “One time.”
“One time per diaper.”
You kissed his cheek before he could argue, smirking. “You’ll be fine, Dad of the Year.”
The door clicked shut behind you.
And just like that… it was quiet.
Bakugo glanced down at the wide-eyed little boy strapped to his chest. “Alright, kid. Just me and you.”
The baby blinked, then made a soft gurgling noise.
“You better not be loading your diaper already.”
**
The first twenty minutes went smooth. Katsuki heated a bottle with military precision, burped the baby like a pro, and even played peekaboo without blowing anything up.
Then the baby started crying.
Loud.
Katsuki checked the diaper. Clean. Tried feeding him. Refused. Burping? Nothing. Pacifier? Launched like a missile.
“Are you broken?” he hissed, bouncing him awkwardly.
The baby wailed louder.
Bakugo, future Number One Hero, demolisher of villains, destroyer of fear itself… was being absolutely obliterated by a 12-pound infant.
“Alright!” he shouted over the crying. “You win, gremlin!”
He tried the ultimate move: laying on the couch with the baby on his chest, just like you did.
It worked. Instant silence.
“…Seriously?”
Tiny fingers gripped the collar of his shirt, and the baby let out a satisfied sigh, snuggling deeper against him.
“Tch. You just wanted to lay on me, huh?” Katsuki mumbled. “Clingy little nerd.”
He didn’t move. Not even when his phone buzzed. You’d texted: Everything okay?
He snapped a photo of his son sleeping peacefully on his chest and sent it back.
We’re good. Don’t rush.
He stared at the photo for a long time, warmth blooming in his chest. The kid looked so much like you when he was relaxed. And Katsuki realized something he hadn’t said out loud yet.
He loved this.
Being a dad.
The mess, the noise, the confusion—it was all chaos he could handle if it meant protecting you and this little bean.
“You’re not that bad, y’know,” he muttered. “Might even grow up to be cooler than me.”
The baby snorted in his sleep.
“Yeah, alright, don’t push it.”
**
When you walked in an hour later, you found them both fast asleep—Katsuki snoring, the baby drooling on his chest, one tiny fist tangled in his dad’s ash-blond hair.
You smiled and quietly snapped a photo.
The caption would read: My boys. Chaos level: manageable.
For now.
---
Ten Months Later
Your son had started babbling a while ago, but it was mostly incoherent nonsense—"ba-ba," "da-da," the occasional squeal that sounded like a baby pterodactyl mid-meltdown.
Katsuki had been watching him like a hawk, waiting for the first real word. It had practically become a competition between you two—who would he say first? "Mama" or "Dada"?
Katsuki refused to lose.
“You know I carried him for nine months, right?” you said, folding laundry one afternoon.
“Yeah, and I carried your ass through every post-labor breakdown, so I’d say we’re even,” he grunted, ruffling your son’s spiky blond hair as he sat chewing on a toy grenade (definitely plastic).
Your son looked up at him with wide, mischievous eyes and suddenly let out a loud, clear—
“Boom.”
Silence.
You blinked. “Did he just—?”
Katsuki’s eyes widened. “No. No way. Say it again, brat.”
The baby giggled. “Boom!”
“Oh my god.”
Katsuki stood there frozen for a moment, and then his mouth curled into the smuggest grin you’d ever seen.
“That’s my boy.”
You threw a sock at his face. “Katsuki, his first word was ‘boom.’”
“I’m proud as hell.”
“He’s not a grenade!”
“He’s mine, so yes, he is.”
Your son squealed again. “Boom!”
Now he was bouncing.
“Stop encouraging him!” you said, even though you were trying not to laugh.
Bakugo squatted beside him and bumped their foreheads together gently. “Boom, huh? You’re gonna be a damn legend.”
You shook your head in disbelief, watching your two pyro-twins grin at each other like chaos incarnate.
Katsuki looked up at you, full of fire and affection. “Guess we know what kind of quirk he’s leanin’ toward.”
You groaned. “We are so not baby-proofed for explosions.”
Katsuki smirked. “Guess I better teach him control before he blows up the crib.”
Your baby babbled happily between them again. “Boom!”
Yeah. You were definitely raising a little dynamite.
And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.
---
Age: 2 Years, 3 Months
Your son’s first day of daycare was supposed to be normal.
You’d packed his snacks, extra clothes, diapers, wipes, and left strict instructions that he was “sweet, a little stubborn, and very attached to his Bakugou-brand plushie.”
You also wrote in bold: “If he gets upset, avoid loud noises. They tend to... backfire.”
The teacher smiled politely. “We’ve handled all kinds of quirks. Don’t worry.”
You didn’t.
Until the phone call.
Three hours later.
Bakugo answered it on speaker.
“Hello, this is—uh—Miss Hikari from Little Hero Steps Daycare. We have a small situation.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Is he hurt?”
“No! No, he’s fine. Perfectly fine. A little excited, actually…”
Your stomach dropped.
“…but the plastic slide may have, um... detonated.”
Katsuki let out a low snort. “He blew up the slide?”
“It was only the top half,” she added quickly. “And technically, it was more of a pop than a boom.”
You could feel Katsuki’s pride from across the kitchen.
“Are the other kids okay?” you asked, horrified.
“Yes! No injuries. He wasn’t upset, just… showing off. He said ‘Boom!’ and then—”
“That’s my son,” Bakugo said, folding his arms with a smug little smirk.
You elbowed him. “That is not a good thing.”
“Didn’t say it was bad either.”
**
When you arrived at the daycare, your son was sitting on a beanbag with three teachers around him—like he was some kind of dangerous celebrity.
His hair was wild, his cheeks were smudged with soot, and he looked way too pleased with himself.
“Mommy! Daddy!” he yelled, running over and nearly tripping on his own feet.
“Hey, you little menace,” Katsuki muttered, picking him up.
“Boom!” he chirped proudly, like it was his name.
One of the teachers came over, cautiously.
“We think his quirk is starting to develop. It’s... early, but very similar to yours, Mr. Bakugo.”
Katsuki beamed. “Damn right it is.”
You groaned. “Please tell me we’re not banned.”
The teacher laughed nervously. “No—though we’re investing in more fireproof playground equipment starting immediately.”
**
That night, after your son was passed out in his crib, soot still faintly dusting his forehead, you collapsed on the couch.
“He’s gonna be a handful,” you murmured, resting your head on Katsuki’s chest.
“Yeah,” he muttered, stroking your hair. “He’s gonna be a hell of a hero too.”
You smiled, eyes drifting closed as you listened to your husband’s heartbeat under your cheek—steady, strong, and forever explosive.
Just like the little boy down the hall.
---
You were pregnant. Again.
You hadn’t meant for it to happen quite so soon—not when your firstborn was still blowing up laundry baskets for fun and calling it “training.”
But the second those two pink lines appeared, your stomach flipped. Part nerves. Part excitement. And a lot of “oh god, how is Bakugo going to react?”
**
You told him on a quiet evening. Your son was asleep (finally) and the living room still smelled faintly of scorched Play-Doh.
You sat beside him, heart racing.
“I’m pregnant.”
Bakugo blinked. He looked at you. Then at your stomach. Then back at you.
“…Are you sure?”
You nodded, biting your lip.
He leaned forward slowly, resting a hand on your thigh like he thought the couch might explode.
“Holy shit.”
You laughed. “That’s… not the response I expected.”
He stared at your stomach for a long time before finally saying, softly, “You okay with this?”
“I’m scared. But yeah. I want this.”
He nodded, jaw tightening. “You nearly died last time.”
“I know.”
“You think I can do this again?” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “What if I lose you this time?”
You reached for his hand. “Then you hold me tighter and fight harder.”
Bakugo clenched his fists, then gently rested one palm on your belly.
“…You better be a chill baby,” he muttered. “I can’t handle two demolition experts at once.”
**
Your son found out a week later when he walked into the kitchen, pointed to your tiny bump, and said:
“BOOM 2?”
You choked on your orange juice. Katsuki burst out laughing.
From that point on, the baby was Boom 2 to him.
**
As the months passed, your second pregnancy felt... different. Easier in some ways, harder in others. Your son was older now, talking more, asking endless questions.
“Did I live in your belly too?”
“You did, baby.”
“Was I loud?”
“You screamed the whole time.”
He nodded proudly. “Boom!”
Katsuki didn’t stop worrying. Not for a second. Every time you winced, he was at your side. Every time you had a check-up, he came. He argued with nurses over your chart. Practically threatened the OB into promising you a safer delivery plan.
“I lost my shit once,” he told the doctor. “I’m not doing that again.”
**
One quiet night, a few weeks before your due date, he crawled into bed behind you and wrapped his arms around your belly, pulling you gently against his chest.
“Still scared,” he whispered against your skin.
“I know,” you whispered back.
“But I want this. I want all of this. You, him”—he nodded toward your sleeping toddler down the hall—“and this tiny bomb too.”
Your heart melted.
“I want them to know they’re loved,” he added, voice thick. “No matter how loud, or messy, or crazy it gets.”
“They’ll know,” you promised, turning to kiss him softly. “Because they have you.”
Katsuki didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, his hand on your belly.
And somewhere inside, Boom 2 kicked like they were already ready to make an entrance.
Just like their brother.
Just like their dad.
---
It started with a kick.
Not just any kick—one that rocked your whole body at 3:12 a.m.
You groaned, gripping the edge of the bed.
Katsuki shot up like a soldier under fire.
“Contraction?” he barked.
“Yep,” you hissed, breathing through it.
He was already moving—bag in hand, grabbing your shoes, shouting toward the baby monitor: “Stay asleep, Boom #1!”
**
This time around, the doctors were ready. And so was Katsuki.
Still, even as they guided you into the labor room, he was white-knuckling the edge of your bed, eyes locked on you like if he blinked, you’d vanish.
You reached for him.
“I’m okay,” you said between waves of pain. “I’m okay.”
“I’m not letting go of you this time,” he muttered, voice low, jaw clenched.
And he didn’t.
Not when your screams broke through the walls.
Not when the monitors started beeping faster.
Not when the doctor said, “We need to move quickly—cord’s wrapped.”
He held your hand through it all. Pressed his forehead to yours. Whispered every curse word in the book, followed by: “You’ve got this. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.”
And when the final cry rang out—
A high, sharp wail that cut through the air like lightning—
Bakugo exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for nine months straight.
“She’s perfect,” the nurse whispered.
“She?” you breathed, dazed.
Katsuki blinked. “A girl?”
They placed her on your chest—tiny, red, angry as hell. She immediately latched onto your hospital gown like she was ready to fight the world.
You laughed through tears. “She’s already like you.”
Katsuki stared at her.
Just stared.
His eyes—those wild, stormy eyes—were wide and full of wonder.
“You’re kidding me,” he whispered. “I’ve got a daughter.”
You reached for his hand. “You’ve got us.”
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your daughter’s.
“I swear on my damn life,” he whispered, “no one’s ever gonna mess with you.”
She let out a fierce little squeak.
And he smiled, completely undone.
**
An hour later, you were resting, and he was sitting by the bed with your baby girl tucked into the crook of his arm.
“Name?” you asked, eyes heavy but heart full.
He looked down at her, then at you.
“What about Kaori?” he said. “Strong. Bright. Means fragrance or light.”
You smiled. “Kaori Bakugo. It’s perfect.”
And for the first time that night, the hospital room felt still. Safe.
Because no matter how explosive your little family was becoming—
It was built on something unshakable.
Love. Fire. And a whole lot of Boom.
---
Two days after Kaori’s birth, you came home—sore, exhausted, but glowing. Kaori was tiny, sleepy, and wrapped like a burrito in her fuzzy explosion-patterned blanket that Katsuki insisted she wear home.
Your front door creaked open slowly.
Bakugo carried Kaori in with terrifying precision, like she was made of nitroglycerin.
Inside, your two-year-old son was standing barefoot in the hallway—holding a plastic grenade in one hand and a drawing in the other.
“Mommy!” he shouted, running at you.
You caught him one-armed, lifting him up, groaning slightly. “Easy, baby.”
Katsuki stood back, rocking gently with Kaori in his arms. “Hey, Boom #1,” he said softly. “Wanna meet your sister?”
Your son blinked, looking at the tiny pink bundle.
“That’s her?”
“Yup.”
“She looks squishy.”
“She is,” you said, chuckling. “Gentle, okay?”
He padded over on tiptoes, peering up at her like she was some sort of sacred relic.
“…She doesn’t go boom?”
“Let’s hope not,” Katsuki muttered.
“She’s your baby sister,” you explained. “Her name is Kaori.”
He tilted his head. “Can I keep her?”
Katsuki smirked. “She’s not a pet.”
“But I love her already,” your son said proudly. Then leaned close and whispered (as if it were a spell): “Boom.”
Kaori stirred slightly… and farted.
A loud one.
Your son lost it.
“SHE DOES BOOM TOO!” he screamed.
Katsuki nearly dropped her from laughing so hard. “Oh god. She’s already like you.”
**
You all settled in the living room. Kaori slept peacefully on Katsuki’s chest while your son built a pillow fort and declared it the "Boom Base."
“She can live in the base with me,” he announced.
“She’s not old enough for base life yet,” you said.
“I’ll protect her,” he added matter-of-factly. “From monsters. And spiders. And broccoli.”
You looked over at Katsuki, who was watching the two of them with a look you’d only ever seen twice before: once on your wedding day, and once when your son took his first steps.
“Didn’t think I could love more than I already did,” he murmured. “But damn.”
You scooted closer and leaned into him, Kaori safe between you.
“Looks like we’re officially a team of four.”
“Correction,” Katsuki said. “We’re a squad.”
A very loud, occasionally explosive, wildly chaotic squad.
And honestly? You wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit / NSFW (18+)
Setting: UA Dorms – Bakugo’s Room
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, rough sex, possessive!Bakugo, semi-public risk (thin walls), marking, dirty talk, light biting, aftercare implied
---
Bakugo didn’t waste time once the door clicked shut behind you. His mouth was on yours in seconds, hot and urgent, lips crashing with the kind of hunger he never let anyone else see. Only you.
You barely got a breath in before he pinned you against the door, big hands sliding up under your shirt like he owned you.
Maybe he did.
“You been lookin’ at me like that all night,” he murmured against your mouth, hands gripping your thighs, lifting you until your legs wrapped around his waist. “You knew exactly what you were doin’.”
You laughed breathlessly, cupping the back of his neck. “Maybe I did.”
“Brat,” he growled, slamming his mouth to yours again.
He carried you across the room like you weighed nothing, tossing you onto the bed with a bounce. His shirt was gone in seconds, and you sat up on your knees, yanking yours over your head. His eyes devoured you—like he was starving—and the second you were bare before him, he was on you again, hands roaming, mouth trailing hot, open kisses down your neck, your chest, your stomach.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he muttered, fingers hooking under your waistband. “Spread out for me. Just for me.”
You arched your back as he yanked your underwear down, baring everything to the air and his hungry eyes.
“Fuck,” he hissed, gaze dark and wild. “You’re already wet.”
“Can you blame me?” you whispered, pulling him back down by the waistband of his pants. “You’re so damn hot when you’re possessive.”
That broke something in him.
He shoved his sweats down just enough to free himself, thick and hard and already leaking for you. You reached down to stroke him, but he grabbed your wrist.
“No time,” he gritted out. “Need to be inside you. Now.”
You moaned as he lined himself up, dragging the swollen head through your slick folds, teasing your clit before slowly pushing in. Stretching you. Filling you.
“Oh my god, Katsuki—” your voice cracked as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours.
“You feel that?” he growled, already thrusting, slow and deep. “Feel how perfect you are for me?”
You couldn’t answer. Not with how he was moving—controlled, deliberate, hips snapping into yours with every stroke that sent pleasure spiking through your veins.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, echoing loud through the thin walls. You heard a voice faintly—maybe Kaminari—yelling something.
Bakugo didn’t stop.
“Let ‘em fucking hear you,” he rasped, reaching down to grab your thigh, throwing it over his shoulder for a deeper angle. “Let ‘em know who makes you scream.”
You did.
You cried out his name, nails digging into his arms, legs trembling as he pounded into you with a pace that made your body shake. The headboard slammed into the wall once. Twice. Rhythmically.
“Katsuki—please—I’m gonna—!”
“Do it,” he snapped. “Cum for me. Now.”
He dropped his hand to your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles, and it tipped you over the edge hard. Your whole body arched, muscles clenching tight around him, toes curling as you cried out his name loud enough that the people next door probably dropped their drinks.
“Fuck, fuck, that’s it,” he snarled, hips stuttering. “You’re so fuckin’ tight when you cum—shit—”
He drove into you one last time and let go, spilling deep inside you with a rough groan, biting into your shoulder as his body trembled over yours.
The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the smell of sweat and sex, and somewhere in the distance—a loud bang on the wall.
“Shut up!” Kaminari’s voice rang through the dorms.
Bakugo laughed—actually laughed—low and smug, rolling off you and dragging you onto his chest.
“Worth it,” he muttered.
You grinned, tracing lazy circles on his skin. “Definitely worth it.”
---
The locker room buzzed with post-mission chatter, half-dressed pro-heroes in various states of undress switching from their hero gear to their casual uniforms. Katsuki Bakugou, still sweaty and irritable from the high-intensity patrol, yanked his tank top over his head and tossed it into his locker.
That’s when it happened.
“Yo, Bakugou,” Kirishima’s voice piped up behind him. “What the hell happened to your back?”
The room seemed to fall into a hushed pause, the question hanging in the air like a live wire. Katsuki stiffened, jaw tightening as he slowly turned to glare over his shoulder.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
But Kirishima was already pointing. “Dude. Your back. It looks like you wrestled a damn wildcat.”
Bakugou blinked, confused for a split second — until the faint burn of the scratches reminded him exactly what Kirishima was talking about. Red marks. Thin, angry lines trailing across his shoulder blades and down his spine. Not deep enough to scar — but definitely obvious. And definitely not from any villain fight.
Kaminari, half in his shirt, leaned over to look. “Whoa. Are those… scratch marks?” He grinned. “Wait, wait — no villain did that. That looks personal.”
Bakugou growled, jerking his shirt from the locker and yanking it on.
“They’re from the last fight,” he muttered.
But it was too late. Sero was laughing now. “Nah, man. That’s not battle damage. That’s some bedroom battle damage.”
Kirishima’s eyes went wide in realization. “Wait. You’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you?”
Bakugou didn’t answer. His ears were already glowing red.
Kaminari gasped like he was on a soap opera. “Was it the girl you brought to the agency event? The one with the cute smile? Damn, Bakugou, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Sero smirked. “Scratch marks like that? She must’ve had a good time.”
“Shut the hell up!” Bakugou snapped, finally losing it, his voice echoing through the locker room. “Mind your damn business!”
But even as he barked at them, his mind flickered back to the night before — your nails raking down his back, breathy moans, the way you whispered his name like a secret only meant for the dark. He hadn’t even felt the scratches in the moment.
He cursed under his breath.
Sero leaned in with a teasing nudge. “Tell her next time to be gentle, man.”
Katsuki shoved him off. “You’re lucky I don’t blow your damn face off.”
Kirishima chuckled and gave him a fist bump on the way out. “No shame, bro. Just maybe bring some aloe next time.”
Left fuming and red-eared, Bakugou slammed his locker shut, muttering under his breath. Still, as he left the room, a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Because the truth was — he didn’t mind the scratches.
Not one damn bit.
---
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.
Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader
Featuring: Class 1-A Babysitting Chaos
Genre: Pure Crack, Full Ensemble, Epic Finale
Summary: In a desperate bid to prove they’re “hero-ready,” Class 1-A volunteers to babysit together. Team effort, they said. It’ll be fine, they said. But nothing—nothing—could prepare them for one baby and her Quirk: Mass Gas Destruction.
---
“You guys SURE about this?” Kirishima asked, holding your baby like she was the final boss.
The entire 1-A squad stood in formation—matching shirts, notebooks, snacks, and Mina with a whiteboard battle plan.
“This baby’s just a baby,” said Denki, already sweating but smiling. “We’ve survived finals!”
“She’s literally two feet tall,” Mineta scoffed. “What’s the worst she can—”
PFFFFFT.
The baby made direct eye contact with him as it echoed.
Everyone froze.
Bakugo walked by the door, still emotionally scarred. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered. “Little demon’s got a Quirk worse than mine.”
---
Phase 1: Attempt Diplomacy
Iida read a book aloud. Momo sang softly. Tokoyami played ominous jazz on a toy piano.
The baby?
She waited.
Ochaco: “She’s so quiet…”
Tsuyu: “Too quiet.”
PHBRRRRRT.
Half the team hit the deck.
“WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!” Kaminari screamed.
---
Phase 2: Divide and Conquer
Jirou and Ojiro tried calming her with lullabies.
Kirishima and Mina tag-teamed diaper duty.
Sero built a fart-proof barrier with tape.
The baby? She broke through it.
“HOW DID SHE BREACH THE TAPE LINE?!” Sero yelled, diving for cover.
“THIS ISN’T TAPE-RESISTANT GAS!” yelled Yaoyorozu, sketching a hazmat blueprint midair.
---
Phase 3: Full Meltdown
A fart rolled across the room like thunder.
Ashido screamed, “EVACUATE THE FLOOR!”
Todoroki used ice walls. She melted them with a warm, low pbbbt.
Bakugo peeked in again. “Still think this was a good idea?”
“LEAVE,” screamed Denki, wrapped in a baby blanket and crying.
“I can’t feel my legs,” muttered Mineta from under the couch.
“I think she farted my Quirk offline,” Deku whispered, stunned.
---
Final Phase: Acceptance
Aizawa arrived to find the class scattered like a lost battle scene.
The baby sat in the center, giggling and reaching for her pacifier, a picture of peace after the storm.
“I see she won,” he said.
“She always wins,” Kirishima groaned, gently scooping her up.
“She’s gonna be a future Number One,” Todoroki murmured, still clutching a Febreze can like a sword.
The baby looked around.
Smiled.
And let out one final, echoing toot.
---
Epilogue:
She grew up to be a kind, strong, powerful young girl.
…Her Quirk? "Pressure Release" – a combustion-based gas emission with trajectory control.
Pro Hero Name: Windbreaker.
Bakugo never recovered.
Kirishima was proud.
You? You carried Febreze in your hero utility belt—forever.
The End.
---
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.”
Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader
Featuring: Babysitter Mina Ashido
Genre: Crack fluff, Chaos, Girl Power vs Baby Gas Power
Summary: After hearing the legends of Baby Boom, Mina insists on babysitting. Confident. Fearless. Fabulous. She walks in like it’s a spa day. But this baby has no mercy—and Mina’s about to find out that cute pink hair doesn’t protect you from napalm-level toots.
---
“Guys, please,” Mina waved her hand dramatically as she slid her sunglasses down. “How bad could one tiny baby be?”
Kirishima and you just stared at her.
“Bakugo almost cried,” you offered gently.
“Deku said his lungs aged five years,” Kirishima added.
“Todoroki won't make eye contact with any infants anymore,” you finished.
Mina grinned. “So she’s a little spicy. I’m spicy. We’ll vibe.”
You handed the baby over. She cooed. Mina winked.
"Girls stick together," Mina said proudly.
From the hallway, Kirishima whispered to you, “We should start a timer.”
---
T+10 Minutes:
Mina was dancing in the living room, holding the baby like she was in a music video.
“We’re thriving, girl!” she sang. “Look at you! A queen! A tiny, powerful queen—”
PFFFFFFFFT.
She froze. The baby grinned.
“Okay,” Mina said slowly. “That was... assertive.”
She sniffed.
“Oh no.”
---
T+18 Minutes:
Mina had relocated to the balcony.
“I’m not saying I’m scared,” she said aloud, talking to the baby like a roommate. “But I did just Febreze your diaper like six times. And you’re still going.”
The baby tooted again. Long. Proud. Musical.
Mina blinked. “That one had a melody.”
She pulled out her phone. “Group chat. Emergency. I’m being farted alive.”
---
T+30 Minutes:
Kirishima peeked through the window.
Mina was standing in the middle of the living room like a war general, armed with lavender incense, baby wipes, and a fan in each hand. The baby sat smugly in a bouncer, thumping her legs like a war drum.
You sipped your drink calmly. “She’s gone full tactical.”
Kirishima whistled. “I’ve never seen Mina sweat before.”
PHHHBBT.
Inside, Mina yelled, “I DON’T DESERVE THIS!”
---
T+50 Minutes:
When you returned, the scene was… dramatic.
Mina was lying flat on the couch, a cold washcloth over her forehead.
“She won,” she mumbled. “I tried… I really tried.”
The baby was sound asleep in her arms, looking peaceful—like she hadn’t just gas-bombed a fully trained pro hero.
Kirishima picked her up and sniffed cautiously. “She’s… calm now?”
Mina sat up slowly. “She was never mad. That’s the worst part. She enjoyed it.”
You patted her shoulder. “She respects you now.”
Mina exhaled. “Good. She can remember that next time, when I show up in hazmat pink.”
---
Next time: Sero and Denki want to babysit together.
Pairing: Kirishima x Fem!Reader
Featuring: Reluctant Babysitter Bakugo
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Chaos
Summary: Kirishima finally convinces Bakugo to babysit for just one hour. It goes exactly how you'd expect—except worse. Because the baby still has her secret weapon: farts. And Bakugo? He's not ready.
---
“I swear, it’ll only be an hour,” Kirishima said, practically bouncing with excitement as you both stood by the door.
Bakugo stood in the living room, arms crossed, expression thunderous. “Why the hell am I even here?”
“You owe me!” Kirishima grinned, already tossing him the diaper bag. “Remember that time I took a lightning bolt for you during that joint training exercise?”
“That was three years ago!”
“And I still have the scar.”
You tried not to laugh as you slipped your shoes on. “Don’t worry, she’s napping. Easiest babysitting gig ever.”
Bakugo narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re lying.”
You and Kirishima bolted before he could say anything else.
---
Exactly three minutes later…
PFFFFFFFFTTT
Bakugo stared in horror at the tiny being in front of him.
“What the hell was that.”
The baby gurgled innocently from her blanket on the floor. Her eyes locked onto Bakugo’s, gleaming with the chaos of a true menace.
PFFT-BRRRRT.
“…OH HELL NO.”
Bakugo shot up, backing away like she’d just thrown a grenade. “Why does she sound like a damn motorboat?!”
The baby let out a victorious squeal, rolling slightly. The air grew thick with danger.
“I swear to—KIRISHIMA, YOU SET ME UP!”
He pinched his nose and tiptoed over with a blanket held like a shield. “Okay, okay. You got your joke. Ha ha. Very funny. Diaper change time.”
He opened the diaper.
“Oh my god.”
---
Thirty minutes in…
Bakugo was pacing the room, the baby on his hip, burping.
“Come on, I fight villains who can control freakin’ fire. I blow stuff up for a living. I’m not scared of a little—”
PFFFT.
“…I am terrified.”
He glared at her. “What the hell are you eating? Lava?!”
She giggled and patted his cheek sweetly. Then promptly let another one rip.
---
One hour later…
Kirishima opened the door and found Bakugo standing in the hallway, shirtless, holding your baby at arm’s length like a contaminated bomb.
“She farted on my neck,” Bakugo said quietly. “I can still feel it.”
Kirishima blinked. “Where’s your shirt?”
“She won. That’s where it is.”
You took the baby from him, laughing as she snuggled into your shoulder.
“She’s a menace,” Bakugo muttered, turning to leave. “And I’m never stepping foot in this house again.”
Kirishima grinned. “See ya next week, bro. Same time?”
Bakugo didn’t answer. He just kept walking.
PFFFT.
Your daughter let out one final farewell.
Bakugo didn’t even turn around. “Tell her to keep that war crime to herself next time.”
---
Pairing: Bakugo x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff / Humor / Domestic Shenanigans
Warnings: Baby farts, mild language, Bakugo being Bakugo
---
You always knew Bakugo Katsuki had nerves of steel. After all, the man faced down villains without flinching, ran toward explosions like they were a minor inconvenience, and had the patience to deal with Deku daily. But today? Today was the true test of his endurance.
It started off sweet. Your three-week-old baby boy—chubby cheeks, tiny fists, and a surprisingly strong pair of lungs—was swaddled like a burrito and cradled in Bakugo’s arms. You were sipping lukewarm tea on the couch, watching your man try to lull your son into a nap with surprisingly gentle bouncing motions.
“See?” you smirked. “You’re a natural.”
“Tch. Of course I am. It’s not hard,” he grumbled, rocking side to side. “He even stopped cryin’. I’m a damn baby whisperer.”
And then it happened.
Pffffft.
It was soft, wet, and unmistakably dangerous. The air around Bakugo visibly shifted like a scene from a nuclear fallout.
His eye twitched.
“…Did that little monster just—?”
You clapped a hand over your mouth, stifling laughter. “Oh my god. I think that one came with a warning label.”
The baby squirmed in his arms, making a satisfied little grunt like he’d just claimed dominance over the household. Bakugo held him out at arm’s length like he was handling a ticking time bomb.
“You little gremlin,” he muttered. “You tryna gas me out of my own damn home?”
You doubled over in laughter as another pttbbt sounded off like a war horn from the baby’s backside.
“Again?!” Bakugo snapped, staggering back like he’d taken a direct hit. “What the hell are you feeding him?!”
“Tiny amounts of justice and breastmilk,” you managed through your giggles.
The baby cooed, clearly proud of himself.
“He’s mocking me,” Bakugo growled. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“I think he’s trying to bond with you.”
“He’s assaulting me.”
You got up and took your son from him, still laughing. Bakugo immediately started fanning the air around him like it was toxic gas. “I’ve smelled sewer leaks better than that.”
You raised an eyebrow. “And yet you fought sludge villains.”
“I’d take sludge over that any day.”
You nestled the baby against your shoulder, who let out a tiny burp followed by one last triumphant toot. Bakugo stared in pure disbelief.
“That’s it. I’m getting him little explosion onesies that say ‘My Quirk is Farting.’”
You grinned. “Matching ones for Daddy too?”
His glare could’ve leveled buildings. “You do not get to call me that after what just happened.”
But despite the threats and dramatic retching noises, he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple—and another to your gassy baby boy’s head, muttering, “You better grow outta this, punk.”
Spoiler alert: He didn’t. But Bakugo loved him anyway. Even if he had to wear nose plugs during tummy time.
---