CHAPTER 7: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

Yall know what time it is

CHAPTER 10: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 3.5k

warning: Guns, blood, car accident (let me know if I missed anything)

an: this was actually the hardest chapter to write, my brain has not been working properly. This chapter shows what Bakugo was doing the night he found out about James and Morettis daughter (chap 8). While Y/N was taking Milly to the cabin and figuring out Morettis location, Bakugo was plotting behind her back. Anyways enjoy 🫶

“Dynamight, we’ve found something.”

Bakugo stood in the middle of your home, surrounded by officers and detectives tearing through your personal belongings. The scene was chaotic, and the constant rustling of drawers, the clinking of metal, and the shuffle of paper filled the air.

He wasn’t sure how he’d arrived at this point. All he could remember was staring at the picture of the young girl—the one that had sent his mind spiraling. From there, everything became a blur. Thoughts of you, of Moretti, of connections he didn’t want to make but couldn’t escape, tumbled through his mind. The sinking feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away.

Rage began to churn in his chest. The next thing he remembered, he was barking orders, directing his best detectives to enter your house. He hadn’t expected you to be here—didn’t want to look you in the eyes as his team scoured every corner of the home you’d made.

It felt wrong, even as his anger justified the intrusion. This was an invasion of privacy—bordering on illegal. But he didn’t care. The truth was the only thing that mattered now, even if it meant crossing lines.

“Sir?”

A younger detective called to him from down the hallway. Bakugo turned to find the officer standing at the door of your bedroom.

Walking down the hallway, his gaze landed on the framed photos that lined the walls. They were snapshots of your life—moments you had chosen to remember, moments that once made him feel like he knew you.

One of those photos caught his eye, a picture of you and him together. It was taken after his birthday celebration. You’d begged him to take a picture with you. The photo was simple—he stood beside you, dressed in his usual attire, while you held onto his arm with a soft, playful smile. His eyes were focused elsewhere, but he remembered the night vividly. He remembered the warmth of the crowd, the laughter, the sense that something unspoken had passed between the two of you.

Now, the sight of that photo made him want to destroy it, to wipe away the reminder of how wrong everything had become.

“We found a safe in the closet,” the detective said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “We’re working on opening it now.”

“Good. If you don’t get it open soon, I’ll blow it open myself.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the officers worked on the safe, Bakugo took a moment to assess the room. His eyes scanned the surroundings, noting how much it didn’t match the woman he thought he knew. The room was too dull, too plain, for someone as vibrant and energetic as you.

The beige walls felt sterile, the white sheets on the bed lacking even the smallest touch of personality. It didn’t feel like you. It felt like an imposter.

He wondered if this was where you went to grieve in silence. If it was him, he’d feel suffocated by the emptiness of the space.

“Sir, come take a look at this.”

The detective’s voice broke through his thoughts again. Bakugo stepped over, looking down at the contents of the safe with growing unease.

A M1911 pistol rested on the first shelf, and beneath it, a picture and a clear bag containing something shiny—was that a necklace?

“Is it loaded?”

“No, sir.”

“Put the gun in the evidence bag.”

Bakugo’s eyes shifted to the photo, his stomach twisting as he picked it up. It was a picture of you and Moretti’s daughter, the little girl smiling with her toothless grin. And you… you looked so young, so full of life in the selfie you’d taken with her.

A sick feeling washed over him as the realization hit—this wasn’t just some random photo. It was proof that you were connected to Moretti in ways he hadn’t wanted to believe.

He slipped the picture into the evidence bag before his eyes fell to the necklace. It was a simple gold charm with the letter “N” etched into it. His fingers traced the surface as he turned it over, trying to make sense of it, but nothing clicked. He shoved it back into the bag without thinking.

Every inch of his body ached with betrayal. You were someone he’d trusted, and now he found out you had been lying to him the entire time. The woman he had secretly loved, who had kept him in the dark.

Turning away from the bedroom, he made his way back to the living room, the weight of what he’d just uncovered sinking deeper with each step. He was seething now—his body shaking with fury, the kind of anger that made it hard to breathe.

“Bakugo?”

Kirishima’s voice reached him just as his hands began to tremble. His red-haired friend stood frozen in the doorway, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

“What the hell did you do, Bakugo?”

Bakugo’s teeth clenched. He didn’t care about what anyone else thought. He didn’t care about the way this might look. To him, the truth was clearer than ever.

“She’s working for Moretti.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Kirishima’s voice was laced with confusion, clearly not following his train of thought.

“Moretti’s daughter is her damn daughter. She’s the reason he’s even here.”

“No, man… you don’t know that. Calm down.”

Bakugo was beyond calming down. His voice rose, dripping with fury.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” His fist clenched, ready to put it through the wall if only to release the frustration coursing through him.

Kirishima shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to Bakugos shaking hands. His heart sank as he pieced together what Bakugo must’ve found. “Okay,” he said carefully, “I’m not saying it doesn’t look bad. But we don’t know the full story yet.”

“I know enough.” Bakugo’s voice was lower now, but no less deadly. “She lied to us. She lied to me.”

Kirishima hesitated. “What if she didn’t? What if there’s more to this? Maybe she had a reason—”

“Reason?” Bakugo barked a humorless laugh. “You think there’s a reason good enough to keep photos of another man’s daughter? The man who’s been killing innocent women?” His voice cracked, and he abruptly turned away, his fists shaking at his sides.

Kirishima stepped closer, his voice softening. “I’m not saying Moretti isn’t scum. We both know he is. But we’ve got to be smart here. If we go off half-cocked—”

“I’m done talking,” Bakugo growled, cutting him off. “I’m done sitting around waiting for the truth to slap me in the face. I’m ending this. Tonight.”

“Bakugo, no!” Kirishima’s hand shot out, grabbing his friend’s arm. “Don’t do something you’ll regret. If you go after her now—”

A feminine voice cut through the tension, freezing both men in their tracks.

“Katsuki.”

Bakugo’s head snapped toward the sound, his breath hitching. Standing in the doorway, her figure silhouetted against the dim light, was the last person he wanted to see right now. Her gaze was steady, unreadable, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior.

YN POV

You had headed back home to grab a few things for the cabin, expecting a quick in-and-out trip. But as soon as you turned onto your street, your stomach dropped. Red and blue lights strobed against the darkened houses, and cop cars lined the road like a barricade.

Your heart pounded as you pulled to a stop, barely managing to put the car in park before you stepped out. Your house was the center of the commotion, its front door hanging ajar. Officers milled about, some talking into radios, others examining the scene.

Anger bubbled up, hot and unrelenting, pushing past the confusion. Your house was supposed to be your safe space, a sanctuary. Now it looked like a crime scene.

“What the hell is going on?” you demanded, striding toward the nearest officer.

“Ma’am, you can’t be here,” the officer said, holding up a hand to stop you.

“This is my house!” you snapped, your voice rising despite your best efforts to stay calm. “Someone better tell me what’s going on right now.”

Detectives swarmed your house, tearing through your things, rummaging through your personal items with no care for your privacy. Bags of evidence piled up on your kitchen table, and a detective nearly barreled into you.

You froze in the doorway, your heart hammering in your chest. Among the chaos of the ransacked house, the sight of Bakugo and Kirishima arguing in front of your kitchen was the last thing you expected.

“Katsuki,” you managed, your voice trembling slightly despite your attempt to sound steady.

Both of them turned at the sound of your voice, but it was Bakugo who held your gaze—and the look on his face nearly stopped you cold. The fury in his eyes was unmistakable, a storm raging just beneath the surface.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he spat, his voice venomous and sharp enough to cut.

Your stomach twisted at the sheer hatred in his tone. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat.

Kirishima stepped forward, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. “Hey, Bakugo, chill out for a second—”

“No,” Bakugo snapped, cutting him off without looking away from you. “She doesn’t get to ‘chill out.’ Not after this.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt like the ground beneath you was shifting, threatening to collapse entirely.

Kirishima noticed your stillness and laid a hand on your shoulder, but you yanked it off immediately, still frozen by Bakugo’s gaze.

“You raided my home?” 

“And I had a damn good reason to,” he snarled, his anger unrestrained.

“Why?” The words slipped out of your mouth, a mix of hurt and confusion.

Bakugo said nothing. He just glanced toward Kirishima.

“Detain her.”

“What? Are you out of your mind? She didn’t do anything!” Kirishima’s voice cracked with disbelief.

“I said detain her. That’s an order.”

The room was spinning. Your head felt light as Kirishima reluctantly moved toward you, his hands on your wrists, but he was gentler than Bakugo. You didn’t fight him, though. You knew it would only make things worse.

“It’s okay, Kiri.” you said, forcing a smile through the tightness in your chest.

Kirishima’s expression faltered, but he complied. He cuffed your hands behind your back, ensuring they weren’t too tight.

As Kirishima gently guided you toward the door, his grip more protective than forceful, you stole one last glance at Bakugo. But he wouldn’t look at you. He just stood there, staring at the floor, his fists still trembling at his sides.

You didn’t fight, didn’t plead anymore. The truth was about to come out and you couldn't stop it. 

---

The ride to the precinct was silent.

The cuffs were uncomfortable, but you refused to let the discomfort show. You sat with your back straight, eyes focused on the road ahead, trying to push away the suffocating feeling of betrayal and hurt threatening to take over.

Kirishima sat beside you, silent as well, his expression hard to read. He hadn’t spoken much after putting the cuffs on you. But you could feel the disappointment radiating off of him, just like you could feel Bakugo’s fury burning into your skin, even though you weren’t looking at him.

Your mind was racing, replaying every moment, every word, every glance exchanged between you and Bakugo.

There was a part of you that wanted to scream, to yell at him for thinking the worst of you. But you knew that wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make him see reason, or make him understand what you were trying to protect.

Kirishima’s hand on your shoulder felt comforting, but also distant.

"Y/N..." He spoke your name softly, like he didn’t want to push you further. “I know this is hard, but... you’ve got to trust me, okay? This will all get figured out."

You shook your head. “It’s not that simple, Kiri.”

"I know," he murmured. "But I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you."

The words were kind, but they did little to calm the storm inside of you. How could you explain everything? How could you make him, or Bakugo, understand that there was so much more to the story than they could ever imagine? 

“Hey, slow down a little, will ya?” Bakugo’s gruff voice cut through the tense silence, pulling your attention away from your frantic thoughts.

The driver didn’t answer. His grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles turning white as the car weaved recklessly through traffic. The engine roared as he pressed harder on the gas, the speedometer needle climbing past 80 mph.

Bakugo shifted in his seat, glaring at the man behind the wheel. “Did you hear me? Slow the hell down!”

But the driver wasn’t fazed. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, jaw clenched, a sinister focus etched across his face.

Bakugo turned his attention to you and Kirishima in the backseat. “Put your fucking seat belts on. Now.”

Kirishima reached for his belt without hesitation. 

​​“I can’t,” you muttered, lifting your cuffed hands slightly.

“Shit,” Kirishima hissed, moving to help you before pausing. 

The unmistakable click of a gun echoed in the car, and you saw it—

“She leaves her seat belt off.”

The barrel of a gun pressed against the side of Bakugo’s head, his reflexes too fast for most, but this time, he was trapped. The driver held the weapon steady with one hand, the other gripping the wheel as the car swerved dangerously close to the divider.

Bakugo’s ruby eyes sharpened into daggers. His growl was low and menacing, each word laced with a promise of violence. “You really wanna point that thing at me? You won’t even have time to regret it.”

“Shut up,” the driver snapped, eyes darting to the rearview mirror to catch you and Kirishima. “If anyone moves, I’ll put a bullet in his skull.”

Kirishima started to speak, his voice cautious. “Hey, man, let’s not—”

“Quiet!” the driver barked, his voice cutting like a whip.

“Kirishima,” Bakugo said through gritted teeth, his tone eerily calm despite the gun at his temple. “Put her seat belt on.”

“No!” the driver roared. His voice rose in panic and anger as he glanced at you. “I said leave it off! If anyone tries anything, I’ll kill you all right here.”

Your breath hitched as you locked eyes with Bakugo. His jaw was set, his teeth grinding audibly. The unspoken rage in his glare was enough to shake anyone to their core.

“Kats, leave it,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “Just... don’t.”

The car surged forward again, narrowly missing a merging vehicle. The tires screeched as the driver veered into another lane, the momentum slamming you against Kirishima. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

The car was speeding recklessly now, weaving through traffic at a breakneck pace. If he crashed, you knew there was no chance of survival.

You leaned closer to Kirishima, keeping your voice low enough that the driver wouldn’t hear. “8237 Alpine Avenue,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on him.

“What?” Kirishima’s brows knitted in confusion as he glanced at you.

“8237 Alpine Avenue,” you repeated, your tone urgent and unwavering. “Don’t forget that address.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?”

You leaned in closer, your gaze locking with his, every word you spoke heavy with determination. “If something happens to me, find the girl. She’s your priority. Do you understand? Promise me.”

His face paled, and his mouth opened to argue, but you didn’t give him a chance. 

Bakugo’s sharp voice pulled your attention back to the front. “You think you’re getting away with this?” he spat at the driver, his tone a mix of rage and scorn.

The driver sneered but didn’t respond. The tension was unbearable, and every nerve in your body screamed for an escape.

Then Bakugo’s voice cut through the chaos like a detonating bomb. “WATCH OUT!” 

The driver’s reaction was split-second—he jerked the wheel hard to the left to avoid the oncoming truck. The car swerved violently, tires screeching against the asphalt. Horns blared as other drivers slammed on their brakes, narrowly avoiding the spiraling vehicle.

The world seemed to tilt as the car lost control. You felt the terrifying weightlessness of your body being thrown forward, held back only by Kirishima’s arms as he shielded you with his bulk.

“Hold on!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of metal scraping and glass shattering.

The car spun out of control, skidding sideways before tipping. The deafening sound of crunching metal filled the air as the vehicle flipped.

Once.

Twice.

Your head slammed against the side of the door, stars bursting across your vision. The cuffs on your wrists dug painfully into your skin as you struggled to brace yourself.

“Y/N!” Kirishima’s voice was frantic, his grip tightening like a vice as he tried to keep you from being thrown around the cabin.

Then two gunshots rang out next.

The sharp crack was almost drowned by the chaos, but you saw the flash of the barrel as the driver fired in panic. The bullet shattered the windshield, fragments of glass spraying like deadly confetti.

Bakugo roared, his instincts kicking in despite the chaos. He lunged forward, slamming his elbow into the driver’s wrist. The gun flew from his hand, ricocheting off the dashboard and landing somewhere in the wreckage.

The car hit the guardrail with a bone-jarring crunch, flipping one last time before coming to a grinding halt on its side. Smoke and steam hissed from the crumpled hood as the vehicle groaned under its own weight.

Silence.

For a moment, the world seemed frozen, the air heavy with the acrid scent of burning rubber and gasoline. Your ears rang, the sound of your own ragged breathing the only thing grounding you.

“Y/N,” Kirishima rasped, his voice pained but steady. “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you choked out, though your entire body ached. Blood trickled down your temple, and your hands were trembling as you tried to move.

A groan from the driver’s seat snapped you back to reality. The man was slumped over the wheel, dazed but alive.

Bakugo, however, was anything but dazed.

He kicked open what was left of the passenger door, his movements sharp and deliberate despite the blood dripping from a cut above his brow. His crimson eyes burned with fury as he reached in, dragging the driver out by his collar and slamming him against the side of the wreckage.

“You’ve got five seconds to tell me who sent you,” Bakugo snarled, his voice a lethal growl.

“Katsuki!” you called out weakly, struggling to sit up as Kirishima worked to try to free you from the wreckage.

Bakugo ignored you, his grip tightening on the driver’s shirt. “Five seconds,” he hissed, raising his fist. “Then you’re gonna wish you didn’t survive this crash.”

You tried to shift, to push yourself upright, but the moment you put weight on your left leg, a sharp, searing pain shot through you. It wasn’t just pain—it was like your body refused to move, as if the limb had simply given up.

“I—I think I broke my leg,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you clutched at the car door for support.

Kirishima’s head whipped around to look at you, his expression shifting from panic to something darker as his eyes traveled down to your leg. He crouched down, his hands hovering just above the injury as he took in the sight.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his face paling. “That’s not a break. You’ve been shot.”

Your breath hitched. You glanced down at your leg and saw it—the dark stain of blood spreading across your thigh, dripping down to pool at your feet. 

The pain in your leg was unbearable now, sharp and throbbing with every heartbeat. Your body screaming at you to stay conscious even as your vision swam.

“Fuck…” you groaned again, the dizziness hitting you like a wave. “I’m dizzy…”

“Hey, no, no, don’t do that.” Kirishima’s voice cracked, his worry palpable. “Don’t move. I’m gonna get Bakugo. Just hang on!”

You watched as he climbed out of the shattered car window, his movements frantic but deliberate. The muffled sound of his voice shouting for Bakugo was the only thing anchoring you to reality, though even that was fading fast.

The car felt like it was spinning, the metallic scent of blood and smoke filling your lungs. Each breath was harder than the last, and your eyelids grew heavier despite your best efforts to keep them open.

From outside, the sound of screeching tires from cars appearing and distant explosions shattered the chaotic silence. The fury in Bakugo’s signature blasts reverberated through the air, shaking the ground beneath the car. It was as though the world itself was trembling in response to his rage.

Your head lolled to the side, the edges of your vision darkening. The last thing you remembered before everything went black was the roar of Bakugo’s explosions, louder now, like he was right outside the car.

And then, nothing.

---

TAGLIST: @emmaafinchh @faetoraa @iissza @theasgardianmexican

It's always

"When will fanfic writers update their stories?"

And never

"Does this fanfic writer have adequate enrichment to engage in writing behaviours?"

Fanfiction writers (Scriptor fictus) are intelligent animals who need plenty of enrichment as well as encouragement! If they're stuck in poor conditions (e.g. have studies, work, have to actually write to have something written) then they require the proper enrichment to engage in more healthy behaviours, like writing. Remember, due to poor breeding and socialisation, over half of all fanfic writers suffer from low self confidence and executive dysfunction so take care of them!

Give your fanfic writers proper care. Fanfiction writers are a life long commitment.

If I could remove all my reposts and have one it would be this

Stop giving fathers redemption arcs. That old man sucks and you know it

This is so disheartening. Lmk who’s moving to Canada because we can rent a house all together!!!!

lili reinhart they could never make me hate you or even slightly dislike you 🤍

Remember kids! NEVER save left-over antibiotics! You should never have leftover antibiotics, because you have to finish the whole course! Not doing so, or giving your antibiotics to someone else who hasn’t been prescribed them is how we got superbugs, that are resistant to antibiotics! 

ALWAYS finish your antibiotics, even if you don’t think you’re sick anymore! NEVER give your antibiotics to other people, there is no guaruntee they will have any effect, or the same effect, and without a full course, will not help them even if it is the right medicine for the job. 

BOTH cases result in resistant superbugs, which are dangerous to everyone, and hurt everyone. You might think you’re helping your poorer friends who cannot afford an antibiotic/to be seen by a doctor, but you’re not. You’re just hurting everyone. 

Austin Butler (being a hazard to my health) in his hoodie

holy moly guacamole

Can you write a katsuki x female reader where she walks into katsuki masturbating on her picture. Because he has a crush on her.

The Act

You had no idea what you were about to walk into.

You had knocked twice—once, twice—just like always before entering Bakugo’s dorm room, but this time, he hadn’t shouted his usual “What?!” or “The hell do you want?” back at you. Weird. Katsuki was never the type to ignore knocks. If anything, he was usually quick to bark at whoever disturbed him.

So, naturally, you assumed he wasn’t inside.

And naturally, you made a mistake.

You pushed the door open, stepping inside, only to freeze in place at the sight before you.

Katsuki was sprawled out on his bed, legs spread, sweatpants pushed down just enough to reveal his hand wrapped around his cock. His face was flushed, lips slightly parted as deep, heavy breaths left his mouth. But what made your stomach twist and your heart pound violently against your ribcage—was the picture he was holding in his free hand.

Your picture.

A Polaroid from a few days ago when Mina had forced you into a cute pose during a game night. You remembered rolling your eyes at her, laughing, completely unaware that Bakugo had kept that picture. And now…

Your breath hitched.

The second Katsuki noticed the shift in air, his red eyes snapped open. The moment his gaze locked onto yours, everything stopped.

Time slowed.

His brain short-circuited.

“…Oh, fuck.”

His entire body went stiff. His grip on himself loosened as panic overtook his expression. His face, already red from exertion, somehow darkened into a deep crimson.

You were still standing there, mouth parted, eyes flickering between his face and the picture—his damn hand still barely gripping his length.

“Shit—get the fuck out!” he roared, scrambling to cover himself, the picture slipping from his grasp onto the bed.

You should move. You should leave. You should do something.

But you couldn’t.

Because this meant—

“You…” Your voice came out shakier than you wanted. “You…like me?”

Katsuki looked like he wanted to kill himself right there. His hand shot out to snatch the picture, shoving it under his pillow as if that would erase what just happened. “Fuckin’—goddamn it—” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just get out.”

You didn’t. Instead, you took a hesitant step forward. “Katsuki…”

“Don’t.” His voice was hoarse. “Don’t say my name like that right now.”

Your stomach flipped.

You knew Bakugo. You knew him well enough to understand that this wasn’t just some horny moment he got caught in. This wasn’t about lust—at least, not just that. He wouldn’t be this mortified if it wasn’t deeper than that.

“You idiot,” you whispered, heart hammering. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

He exhaled sharply, fingers digging into his sheets, still refusing to look at you. “Because it’s fuckin’ embarrassing, alright? I didn’t want you to know—” He stopped, jaw clenching. “Didn’t wanna scare you off.”

Your lips parted slightly.

Katsuki Bakugo, the guy who never hesitated to say what was on his mind, the guy who had zero filter and always spoke his truth—was scared to confess to you?

That realization sent warmth flooding through your chest.

And then, because you were feeling bold—or maybe because you wanted to see just how far you could push him—you took another step closer.

“Would it really scare me off,” you murmured, tilting your head, “if I liked you too?”

His eyes snapped open.

Shock flickered through his face before something darker took over.

“…You’re shitting me.” His voice was low, dangerous.

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

A tense silence stretched between you two. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find any hint of a lie. But all he found was the truth.

His fingers twitched.

“…Then get over here.”

And just like that, the air turned thick.

Would you obey? Or would you tease him just a little more?

Your heart pounded.

Katsuki’s grip on your wrist was firm—almost bruising—as he yanked you forward, pulling you onto his lap before you could even think to resist. His breath was ragged, hot against your skin, and his hands wasted no time, gripping your hips tight enough to leave marks.

“You don’t get to say shit like that and not fuckin’ mean it,” he growled, voice thick with frustration and something darker—something desperate. “So if you’re playin’ with me, you better get the fuck out now.”

But you weren’t.

You weren’t playing.

You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch. “I’m not,” you whispered, looking him straight in the eye. “I meant it.”

Something in him snapped.

With a rough exhale, his hands slid up, gripping the back of your neck as he crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, pure hunger consuming him as if he’d been holding himself back for too damn long.

You gasped against his mouth, and that sound—fuck, that sound—made him lose what little restraint he had left.

His hands found the hem of your skirt, hiking it up impatiently, fingers digging into your bare thighs before pushing between them, spreading you open.

“Katsuki—”

“Shut up,” he groaned, voice strained as his fingers found the damp fabric of your panties. “Fuckin’—look at you,” he muttered, pressing his forehead to yours as his fingers traced the wet spot. “You like this, huh? Catchin’ me like that? Knowin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about you every damn night?”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t deny it. You nodded, lips parted as you struggled to breathe.

His jaw clenched, pupils blown wide as he pushed your panties aside with two fingers. The sudden rush of cool air against your slick folds made you shiver.

“Shit,” he hissed, running his fingers along your slit, feeling just how wet you were for him. His head fell back against the headboard, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping open, locking onto you with a look that made your stomach flip. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

Your thighs clenched around his hand instinctively, but his free hand gripped your hip hard, keeping you spread for him.

“Nuh-uh,” he muttered darkly, voice rough. “Lemme feel you.”

And then, without warning, he pushed two fingers inside you.

A broken moan left your lips, back arching as his thick fingers stretched you open. He groaned at the feeling, at how warm and tight you were around him, at the way your body reacted so perfectly to his touch.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, curling his fingers just right, watching your face contort in pleasure. “You’re squeezin’ me so damn good.”

You were panting, gripping his shoulders for support as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, each thrust rough and desperate, as if he needed to memorize the way you felt around him.

And when he pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing harsh circles, your whole body jerked in his grasp.

“Gonna make you cum on my fingers,” he muttered, lips brushing against your jaw, trailing down to your neck where he nipped at your skin. “Then I’m gonna fuck you so good you won’t ever think about another damn guy again.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach, and the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted, like he was ready to ruin you completely—sent you tumbling over the edge.

Your orgasm hit hard, your walls pulsing around his fingers as a choked moan ripped from your throat. Katsuki cursed under his breath, watching you fall apart for him, feeling your arousal coat his hand.

“Good girl,” he murmured, slowing his movements as he helped you ride out your high. “That’s it. Fuckin’ perfect.”

But he wasn’t done.

Not even close.

Because the second you caught your breath, he was already undoing his sweats, freeing his cock from his boxers, and positioning you over him.

“You ready for me?” he asked, voice thick with need, rubbing his tip against your still-sensitive entrance.

And with a shaky breath, you nodded.

“Yes.”

His grip on your hips tightened.

And then he slammed you down onto his cock.

Your head fell back with a sharp gasp as Katsuki stretched you open, bottoming out in one deep, unforgiving thrust. The sheer size of him sent a shudder through your body, your nails clawing at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

“Fuck,” he growled, his head dropping against your shoulder, breath hot and ragged. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you still as he throbbed inside you, struggling to keep himself from fucking up into you like a madman. “You’re so—shit, you’re tight.”

You whimpered, thighs trembling on either side of his as your walls fluttered around him, trying to adjust to the stretch.

Katsuki sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body tensed. “Don’t do that.”

“D-Do what?” you managed to stammer.

His hands slid down to your ass, gripping the flesh roughly. “Squeezin’ me like that,” he gritted out, voice thick with restraint. “Or I’ll fuckin’ lose it.”

You bit your lip, loving the way his body was trembling beneath you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His self-control was hanging by a thread, and you could snap it so easily.

So you rolled your hips.

Katsuki let out a guttural moan, head snapping up, eyes burning with something wild. His grip on you tightened—then, without warning, he lifted you up only to slam you back down onto his cock.

A cry tore from your lips, but he didn’t give you a second to adjust.

“Fuckin’ minx,” he growled, setting a brutal pace, using his grip on your hips to bounce you on his cock. The lewd, wet sounds of your bodies colliding filled the air, mixing with his ragged curses and your breathless moans.

He was relentless. Desperate. Like he had been starving for this, for you.

“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth, watching the way you took him so perfectly, watching the way your body moved against him. His cock throbbed inside you, hitting that spot that made you cry out every time. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

Your legs were trembling, your body burning from the intensity of it all. He was everywhere—his hands gripping your hips, his mouth on your neck, his cock buried deep inside you.

“Katsuki—”

“I got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer for just a second before he slammed you down even harder, knocking the breath from your lungs. “I got you.”

The coil in your stomach was winding impossibly tight, your body overwhelmed by the pleasure. Your nails raked down his back, your moans turning high and needy.

Katsuki groaned at the feeling. “Shit—gonna cum, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, barely able to speak, barely able to think past the feeling of him wrecking you completely.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your cries as he fucked you through the intensity of your orgasm.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice rough against your lips. “Wanna feel you fuckin’ fall apart on me.”

That was all it took.

Your vision blurred as pleasure crashed over you, your walls clenching around him as you came hard, your whole body shaking from the force of it.

Katsuki cursed loudly, his thrusts turning erratic.

“Fuck—fuck—” He gripped you tighter, holding you down as he buried himself deep, his cock twitching before spilling inside you with a rough groan. His body shuddered, fingers gripping your flesh almost painfully as he emptied himself inside you, breath hot against your neck.

For a moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing, the warmth of his body pressing against yours as you both tried to recover.

Then, Katsuki let out a low chuckle, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You’re fuckin’ mine now, got it?”

where are the callum turner x reader fics hmmm....?

none, absolutely criminal

THEY DO IT BEST

“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

The Things He Doesn't Know — K. Bakugo

This is part nine of the series, so chapters will be on the m.list.

☞ Link: click here.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Jealous female reader

Synopsis: When you realize you're in love with your childhood best friend, but force you're feeling's down for the sake of your friendship.

Author's note: 🫢 Is all I have to say. It's a long one.

You can’t get Kimiko’s words out of your head.

"I think you and I both know you’re full of shit."

What did she mean by that? And why couldn’t you just let it go?

It wasn’t just the way she said it. It was the look in her eyes, the smug, knowing smirk tugging at her lips like she had figured something out before you did.

It irritated you to no end. Everything Kimiko did made you mad.

But this? This was something else entirely.

Her constant flirting with Bakugo got on your nerves, but more than that, it made you sad. Every time she leaned into his space, every time she laughed a little too sweetly at something, he said, every time she called him Katsuki so casually, like she had the right to? it made your stomach twist. It wasn’t jealousy, was it?

No. It was something worse. Something heavier. Because she could do all those things, and you couldn't. Or rather, you wouldn’t.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump against your desk. Kimiko had a way of making sure her words stuck in your head like a splinter, and you hated it.

This was probably her plan all along, to make you overthink, to make you question yourself. And the worst part? It was working.

A sudden knock on your dorm door startles you out of your thoughts.

"Who is it?" You call out, still lying face-down on your desk.

"It’s me. Open up, dumbass."

Bakugo.

For some reason, your brain immediately goes into panic mode. You sit up straight, smoothing your hair down and glancing around your mess of a room. Why did it suddenly feel like a disaster zone? Why did you care?

You hurriedly shove a pile of clothes under your bed and straighten out your sheets before clearing your throat. Get it together.

"Um… come in!"

Bakugo opens the door, stepping inside, and you abruptly stop what you’re doing, frozen mid-motion like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Silence.

Bakugo lets out a small grunt before plopping down onto your bed like he owns the place.

Meanwhile, you just stand there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. Why were you acting like an idiot? He’d been in your room plenty of times before. Hell, he’d seen it in way worse conditions, so why were you acting like some flustered fool now?

"What brings you here, partner?" You lean against your desk, trying to act casual, trying, and failing.

Partner? Partner?! Could you sound any more stupid?

As if to further cement your humiliation, your elbow knocks over a pile of books, sending them tumbling to the floor.

"Shoot," you mutter, scrambling to pick them up.

From behind you, Bakugo lets out what sounds close to a laugh.

You freeze.

That was a laugh.

Your face burns as you quickly gather your books, your fingers fumbling. It was just a laugh. Just a laugh. Don’t be stupid, Y/N.

"So… you wearing that out?" Bakugo suddenly asks.

You glance down at yourself, oversized, wrinkled T-shirt (with a mysterious green stain you’d rather not think about), old sweats with a hole in the knee.

"Well, uh—wait. Out where?"

Bakugo stares at you like you’ve grown two heads.

"Seriously? You don’t remember?"

You blink. What the hell is he talking about?

"No? Did I forget a birthday? Whose did I forget? Kaminari? Kirishima? Mina—"

"No, you dumbass. Chill out." Bakugo rolls his eyes. "We’re going to the arcade. Me. You. The other extras."

Oh. Right.

Your stomach sinks a little. You had completely forgotten. It's probably because Kimiko would be there.

"Heh… right. I totally remembered that." You mumble, scratching the back of your head.

Bakugo narrows his eyes at you. "It’s not like you to forget."

His words catch you off guard. "Something on your mind?" That’s not something he usually asks.

"Er, uh, no. Just slipped, y’know?" You force a grin.

Bakugo doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go.

"Right. Well, get ready unless you wanna go out looking like a damn hobo."

"Hey, not too much now." You chuckle, grateful for the shift in topic.

Bakugo huffs and stands up, heading for the door.

And you should let him go.

But you don’t.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist.

Bakugo stiffens slightly, glancing down at your hand, then back up at you. His expression is unreadable.

"Um… you can stay, y’know." Your voice comes out quieter than you intended. "And we could head down together. Like we used to?"

For a second, he just stares at you, eyes scanning your face. Then...

"Okay."

You got an okay!?

You let go of his wrist and step back, heartbeat hammering in your chest as you quickly escape to the bathroom to change. You try really hard not to freak out.

By the time you and Bakugo head downstairs, everyone is already gathered in the common room. Kaminari jumps up from the couch the second he sees you.

"Finally! Took you two long enough. Let’s go!"

"God, Kaminari, could you be any more impatient?" Jirou sighs, standing up.

Kaminari and Jirou are the first ones out.

"Wow, man, I didn’t even have to drag you out this time," Kirishima teases.

"Shut up," Bakugo grumbles, walking past him.

Kimiko, because of course she does, immediately rushes to Bakugo’s side, smiling sweetly.

Major eye roll.

The arcade was alive with flashing neon lights, the sharp chimes of tokens clinking into machines, and the occasional victory yell from a lucky player.

The air smelled of buttered popcorn and cheap pizza, the kind that tasted way better than it should.

You had barely stepped inside when Kimiko started her Bakugo antics.

“Hey, Bakugo,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Wanna team up? I bet we’d destroy everyone else.”

Before Bakugo could respond, you felt his hand on your wrist.

“Nah,” he said, pulling you along. “Already got plans.”

Your heart jumped at the sudden contact, and Kimiko’s expression flickered, just for a second, before she forced on a smirk.

“Oh, I see,” she said, crossing her arms but making no effort to hide her displeasure. “Have fun, I guess.”

Bakugo didn’t even acknowledge her before leading you toward a row of games.

“Pick something,” he said, hands shoved in his pockets.

You grinned, trying to ignore the warmth still lingering from where he grabbed you. “What, giving me full control? That’s dangerous, Bakugo.”

“Tch. You act like I won’t kick your ass at whatever we play.”

That, of course, became the challenge of the night.

First game: Air hockey. You managed to score a few points, but Bakugo, with his stupidly good reflexes, sent the puck flying into your goal more times than you’d like to admit.

“Damn it,” you muttered, watching the scoreboard light up with his victory.

He smirked. “Hope you’re not gettin’ discouraged already.”

Second game: A co-op zombie shooter. The two of you stood side by side, plastic guns in hand, mowing down wave after wave of the undead. You weren’t sure if it was just the adrenaline or the fact that Bakugo actually made a pretty solid teammate, but you found yourself laughing at how serious he got, cursing every time he missed a shot.

By the time you reached the final boss, you were both on your last lives.

“Shit, move, dumbass, you’re in my line of fire!”

“You move, I’m covering your left!”

Somehow, you both landed the final shot at the same time, causing the screen to flash VICTORY! in bold letters.

You turned to Bakugo, grinning. “We actually make a decent team.”

He snorted. “Obviously. You’d be dead without me.”

Final game: The claw machine.

Bakugo wasn’t one for the “kiddy” games, but after catching you eyeing a plush sitting in the pile of prizes, he shoved a few tokens in without a word.

“You don’t have to win me anything,” you said, watching as he maneuvered the claw with expert precision.

“Didn’t ask,” he muttered.

It took him three tries, but eventually, the claw managed to grab hold of a stuffed bear with lopsided button eyes and a slightly crooked smile. He pulled it out and tossed it to you, acting as if it was no big deal.

You hugged the bear close. “He looks a little messed up.”

“Yeah, well, figured he suits you.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “What should we name him?”

Bakugo tilted his head, pretending to think. “Dynamutt.”

You burst out laughing. “That’s awful.”

“Like you could come up with somethin’ better.” He mutters.

You glanced down at the bear and grinned. “Fine. Dynamutt it is.”

By the time you all returned to the dormitories, everyone had collected their fair share of arcade prizes.

Kirishima had an armful of plushies from a rigged punching game. Mina somehow ended up with a collection of flashy LED glasses. Kaminari and Sero had spent most of their time hoarding candy from a ticket machine.

You held Dynamutt close as you flopped onto one of the common room couches, exhausted but content.

Bakugo sat down on the opposite couch, and before you could blink, Kimiko plopped down beside him, far too close for comfort.

“So,” she started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you have fun tonight?”

Bakugo just shrugged. “I guess.”

Kimiko giggled, tilting her head. “You’re always so hard to please, huh?”

You watched as she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just a little lower.

“You know, I bet I could make things more fun for you,” she added, her fingers barely brushing against his arm.

You clenched your jaw. There it was again, that same feeling that had burned in your chest at the party and many times after.

The frustration, the annoyance, the overwhelming urge to say something.

But not here. Not in front of everyone.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” you mumbled, standing up abruptly. “Be back soon.”

Sero, who had been watching the entire thing, shot you a knowing look before getting up as well. “Yeah, me too.”

The cool night air was a relief against your heated skin as you leaned against the railing outside the dorms.

Sero stood beside you, silent for a moment before finally speaking.

“She really gets to you, huh?” He said, casually shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You let out a bitter laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me. I know the feeling.”

You turned to him. “Kimiko?”

Sero sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I mean, I know I don’t have a chance or whatever, but watching her go after Bakugo like that… it sucks.”

You hesitated before admitting,

“I don’t even know why it bothers me so much. I mean, I do, but…”

“But?”

You swallowed hard. “It’s like some part of me still doesn’t want to admit it.”

“That you love him?” Sero blurts out.

The words made your stomach flip. "Yeah.." You kick a small pebble.

Sero smiled knowingly. “Denial’s a bitch, huh?”

You groaned. “God, you’re the worst.”

“Nah, I’m the best. And I think you should tell him.”

You gave him a look. “Oh yeah? And what about you? Gonna confess to Kimiko?”

Sero huffed. “Hell no.” Then, after a pause: “Maybe.”

You both laughed, the weight on your chest feeling just a little lighter.

“C’mon,” you finally said, nudging his arm.

“Let’s head back.”

As the two of you step back into the common room, you hear Kimiko’s voice cut through the air.

"Y'know, Katsuki, if you want to hold someone's hand, you could just ask me." She tilts her head, eyes glinting with mischief. "I wouldn’t make you work for it."

There's something in Bakugo’s eyes that tells you he's barely back his frustration. He takes a deep breath before responding.

"Could you stop that? It's annoying."

Kimiko’s expression falters just for a moment before deciding to continue. "Oh come, Katsuki, you know you like it." She reaches out to touch his arm once more, but he shifts away from her.

No, I don’t," he says, voice firm, final. "I never have."

Silence falls over the room. Kirishima shifts awkwardly, looking like he’s about to step in, but Bakugo isn’t done yet.

"I’ve just been putting up with it because I didn’t wanna deal with the drama." His voice is sharper now, frustration rolling off him. "But you’re annoying as hell, and I don’t like it, so stop."

The weight of his words hangs in the air.

You and Sero, still standing near the doorway, exchange a glance. This is... a lot.

Even Kaminari and Jirou, who had been hanging around earlier, had the good sense to disappear before things got worse.

Kimiko mutters something under her breath, too quiet for you to hear before pushing off the couch. She leaves without another word.

Mina sighs, rubbing her temples before grabbing Kirishima’s wrist. "Come on, Red, we should check on her."

Kirishima hesitates but follows. "That was kinda harsh, man," he mutters to Bakugo before leaving.

"Well, that was—" You turn to Sero, only to find him gone.

You huff a quiet laugh. Traitor.

Bakugo looks up at the sound, his usual scowl still in place. You hesitate for a second before walking over, dropping into the seat Kimiko had left empty.

Silence stretches between you both.

It’s not uncomfortable, though. Silence has always been your thing.

"You heard all that?" he finally mutters.

"Yeah..." You pick at your sleeve, not sure how else to respond.

There’s another pause before Bakugo exhales sharply, his voice lower when he speaks again.

"I don’t get why people think I’m into that flirty crap. It’s annoying." His gaze flickers toward you, then away just as quickly. "Not my thing."

"Then why did you tolerate it?" you ask.

You’ve spent months watching Kimiko flirt with him. At times, he barely reacted. Others he seemed to like it, so you assumed he was fine with it. But now? Now he’s snapping, like he’s had enough.

"’Cause damn Shitty Hair wanted me to," Bakugo mutters. "He said she was just trying to be friends with me, so I let it go. And she’s an okay sparring partner, I guess."

"Oh... I see..."

There’s something heavier in his voice now, something that goes beyond just Kimiko. You wait, and sure enough, he keeps going.

"After the war," he mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself, "everything felt… different."

He exhales sharply, frustrated. "I know I probably worried the hell outta everyone, almost dyin’ and all. I feel like, like I gotta make up for that somehow. Be better. Do shit right."

You swallow. "You did worry everyone," you admit softly. "Me, especially."

Bakugo clenches his jaw, his hands curling into fists in his lap. "I know, and I hate that," he mutters. "I hate knowing I made everyone go through that."

His gaze flickers up to meet yours, and there’s something raw within his expression.

"That’s why I let that shit slide. Why I put up with dumb crap like Kimiko’s flirting. ‘Cause it felt like… I dunno, something I should do."

You feel your heart tighten in your chest. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Bakugo."

"I know, and that's why you’re the only one I don’t gotta pretend around."

Your breath catches in your throat.

"You’ve always been my best friend, but—" he hesitates, just for a second, before pushing forward. "You’re different. You always have been."

Sero’s advice flashes through your head.

And suddenly, you feel like you’re on the edge of something terrifying.

Your hands clench into fists. "Bakugo..."

His eyes meet yours.

"Katsuki, idiot," he corrects automatically.

Your pulse races.

"Katsuki," you say, and his name feels heavier in your mouth than it ever has before.

His brows furrow slightly, like he can sense something shifting. "What?"

You take a breath.

And then, before fear can stop you, you say it.

"I’m in love with you."

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