"Suds And Sweethearts"

"Explosive Delivery"

The delivery room was under siege—and it wasn’t the contractions causing the most damage.

It was you.

Sweat poured down your face, hair plastered to your forehead, and your legs were in the stirrups as another contraction tore through you like a freight train. And yet, somehow, the loudest thing in the room wasn’t the screaming.

It was you roasting the father of your child.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Katsuki said from your side, face pale and panicked.

Your head whipped toward him like a possessed demon.

“BREATHE?! If you tell me to breathe one more time, I’ll shove this IV stand so far up your ass you’ll be dripping saline for a week!”

A nurse dropped her pen. Another subtly ducked behind the heart monitor.

Mitsuki, to her credit, stepped in like a seasoned soldier. “Sweetheart, I know it hurts, but you’re strong—”

“STRONG? STRONG?! You gave birth to this walking anger issue and you survived, so I’m guessing your pain tolerance is WAY higher than mine!”

Bakugo flinched. “Oi! I’m right here!”

“Unfortunately!”

The doctor glanced between you and Bakugo, hesitant. “She’s... crowning.”

You gritted your teeth and let out a guttural scream. “OF COURSE SHE IS, I CAN FEEL MY ENTIRE BODY RIPPING OPEN LIKE A BAD ZIPPER—AND THIS IDIOT WON’T STOP TALKING!”

Bakugo looked like he wanted to disappear. “I’m just trying to be supportive!”

“Supportive?! You flinched when I said I wanted pickles and ice cream at the same time—now you wanna be Father of the Year?!”

One of the nurses whispered to another, “I’ve never seen a grown man look so... emotionally injured.”

The baby was almost there. The doctor guided you through another push.

“You can do this!” Mitsuki cheered.

“Don’t cheer like it’s the f***ing sports festival!”

Another push.

“Almost there!” Katsuki said, leaning over you.

“If you say one more cliché, I will personally ensure this baby is the LAST ONE YOU EVER MAKE!”

“...Yes ma’am.”

Finally, a tiny, furious wail filled the room.

The tension evaporated. You fell back, panting and drenched, while the doctor held up your son.

“It’s a boy!” they announced.

Katsuki stood frozen, staring down at the tiny red-faced infant as if he’d just witnessed God. “He’s... mine?”

You turned your head slowly, narrowing your eyes. “Yeah, congratulations, Captain Genetics.”

Mitsuki laughed. “Well, if he screams like that already, he’s definitely a Bakugo.”

You groaned. “Poor kid.”

Bakugo leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours. “You were badass.”

You cracked a tired grin. “Damn right I was. Next time you push the kid out.”

The nurses agreed silently: they’d never forget this day.

And they would never speak during a Bakugo birth again.

---

"Secret’s Out"

Edgeshot prided himself on precision—both in the field and in life. He had slipped in and out of the hospital with the skill only the #4 Pro Hero could muster, careful not to attract attention. The media didn’t know. The commission didn’t know. Not even his closest colleagues.

And that’s how he liked it.

This was his peace—his sanctuary with you and your newborn son. And he wasn’t ready to share that with the chaos of the hero world.

Unfortunately, fate—and Present Mic’s big mouth—had other plans.

---

It started innocently enough. A casual patrol meeting at the agency. The usual crew—Endeavor, Mirko, Best Jeanist, Hawks, and of course, Present Mic—sat around the table throwing back caffeine like it was oxygen.

Edgeshot stood at the edge, arms folded, face unreadable as always. Calm. Controlled.

Until Hawks strolled in late, twirling a familiar beanie in his hand.

"Yo, Shinya," Hawks said with a smirk, holding up the tiny gray hat with a small embroidered duck. "You, uh, drop this?"

Time stopped.

Edgeshot's eyes flicked to the beanie. His son’s beanie.

"...Where did you get that?" he asked, voice perfectly flat.

"I was flying by the hospital yesterday. Saw a nurse wave it around outside the window. Said someone left it. Had a tag inside that said ‘Shin Jr.’," Hawks said with an exaggerated shrug. "Figured it was a sidekick or... surprise, surprise?"

The room went silent.

Then:

"No way," Mirko laughed, sitting up straight. "Edgeshot has a baby?!"

Best Jeanist narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Hmm... That would explain the recent increase in tactical leave. And the softer demeanor."

"You’ve been smiling lately," Endeavor grumbled, clearly offended by the idea of anyone having joy.

Present Mic practically leapt out of his chair. "OH MY GOD, SHINYA'S A DAD?!" he howled. "WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?!"

Edgeshot, surrounded and betrayed by a single forgotten beanie, let out a long sigh through his nose.

"...Yes," he said quietly. "I have a son. His name is Ren. And I’d prefer to keep it private."

The teasing exploded instantly.

"Uncle Jeanist has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?" Jeanist mused.

"I CALL GODMOTHER!" Mirko yelled, punching the air.

"Does he have wings like me?" Hawks teased, tossing the beanie back.

Present Mic was already brainstorming a baby shower playlist.

Edgeshot stared into the middle distance, wondering if he could sew his vocal cords into a noose.

---

Later that night, he returned home, your baby curled peacefully on his chest as he recounted the day’s chaos.

"They know now," he murmured to you, gently stroking your son’s head.

You laughed softly, brushing hair from his face. "You knew they’d find out eventually."

"I was hoping for at least six months," he said with mock despair. "Now Jeanist’s talking about matching denim for toddlers."

You snorted. "Better than Endeavor suggesting fireproof diapers."

He smiled—soft and small—and leaned his head against yours. In the background, your son stirred and sighed, clutching the edge of Edgeshot’s hero cape like it was his whole world.

Let them tease. Let them laugh.

Because now they knew exactly what he was fighting for.

Ima post random drafts

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

Thank you so much omg♡

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

"Shattered silence"

Katsuki Bakugo x Reader:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡REQUESTS OPEN♡

Things I allow ♧

-fluff

- smut

-angst

-LBTQ

-comfort

-Ed comfort

-Sh confort

-Reader x character x character (three person relationship or more)

-character x character (doesn't need reader to be in it)

-any fandom!

-any character!

-romance

Things I don't allow ♤

-a very dramatic storyline (I just don't like writing too much drama bc I would cringe so bad, sorry!)

Pedophilia or any character x younger

-a way too bloody story

-Family x family

I might come back and update this later when i know something else i would and wouldn't want to have in my fics

I also only take 4-6 request a day, when those requests are taken I will wait 1 or 2 weeks before the requests are open again

I feel like ur writing is giving ai.. idk tho

Hey there!

I'm so sorry that you think this way but my stories are 100% written by me, I just have alot of drafts that I need to get rid of, that's why I post so many times a day, and I used to use chatgpt alot at school but I don't use it anymore, but I guess I picked something up from it.

Also this comment is 100% unnecessary

Really sorry you feel that way! But I write 100% all of my stories

“Y/N vs. The Filter (Spoiler: There Is None)”

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…

''Sticky Situations and Stone Walls"

In the prestigious halls of U.A. High, Minoru Mineta was infamous for two things: his questionable morals and his Quirk, Pop Off. Most students had learned to keep him at arm's length—some, a full hallway away. But what nobody expected was for him to have a twin brother.

Enter Mamoru Mineta—tall, stone-faced, and emotionally impenetrable. His Quirk, Stonewall, allowed him to generate massive slabs of concrete-like armor around his body, making him a literal and metaphorical brick wall. He walked into Class 1-B without a word, instantly drawing attention. Not for being flashy—but because of how normal he was.

Rumors flew.

“Wait, he’s Mineta’s twin?!”

“Are we sure? Maybe he’s just cursed to look like him.”

“Plot twist: Mineta is the evil twin.”

Unlike Minoru, Mamoru didn’t chase girls—he didn’t chase anything. He followed the rules. He trained harder than anyone. He rarely spoke, but when he did, it hit like a punch to the gut—blunt, honest, and painfully grounded.

Minoru hated him.

Well, kind of.

Okay, not really.

Because despite the endless teasing, the girls fawning over Mamoru, the constant comparisons—Mamoru always had his back. He never joined the others in mocking Minoru. In fact, he defended him. Quietly. Behind the scenes.

One day, when Mineta got caught peeking again and was nearly expelled, Mamoru stepped in.

“He’s stupid, not evil,” he said calmly to Aizawa. “Let me handle it.”

Aizawa blinked. “You want to vouch for him?”

Mamoru nodded. “He’s my idiot. I’ll keep him in check.”

And he did. Kinda. Sorta.

There was something oddly wholesome about seeing the two walk side-by-side: one a walking disaster with grapes for hair, the other a towering fortress of chill. They bickered like fire and ice. But when a villain attacked and Mamoru took a hit to shield his brother, something shifted.

Minoru realized: his brother wasn’t trying to change him.

He was just trying to protect him.

hii. hope everything is well with you :)

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

maybe even a meet up or something. tyyy!!

"Lagging Hearts"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

And he did. For hours.

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

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

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

You replied instantly. “Always.”

—

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

---

It was your idea to meet.

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

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

He wasn’t ready.

But he said yes anyway.

—

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

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

“Crusty King?” you teased.

He almost turned around and left.

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

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

He froze.

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

He blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

“I… break things.”

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

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

“Wait.” Your smile dimmed. “What?”

“I’m Tomura. Shigaraki Tomura.”

You went still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Explosive Love: Final Chapter – The Fartening: UA Edition

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.

---