Katsuki Bakugu X Reader - Tumblr Posts

⁀➷ UNDER THE INFLUENCE

pairing. bakuguo, izuku, shinso x fem!reader

warnings. so many typos omg, cussing, hints of jealousy

genre. fluff, humor

note. imma be so fr i just wanted an excuse to write longing/nervous izuku he's so fucking cute

When one too many drinks leads to a (drunk) confession or two.

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@beckixwsm @bun-raine @jkovlr

⁀➷ FALLEN | BAKUGOU

pairing. Bakugou Katsuki x GN!Reader

warnings. character death, violence, blood, greif, survivor's guilt, truama, hurt/no comfort

genre. angst, soulmates au, canon compliant

notes. ouchie this one kinda hurt 👎🏽

1K | Amid the chaos of war, your unspoken bond with Dynamight has always been enough— until the moment you see him fall.

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The battlefield stretches all around you while smoke twists in the air, thick and suffocating, coiling itself around your throat like a noose. The stench of burning flesh and debris settles into your skin, an imprint of death you’ll never trully be able wash away. Your body is screaming, muscles torn and bones grinding against each other with every move, but it’s nothing compared to the pain that’s carving its way into your chest.

The heroes, your friends (what’s left of them at least) are scattered across the ground battered and bruised too. If you listened closely you could hear the ragged breaths of those still clinging to life, their bodies curled up like paper crumpled under a careless hand. You are not any different— torn open, limbs heavy, every breath a jagged knife in your lungs, but none of that matters.

Not when you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

Bakugou stands amidst the chaos, a force of nature even now, even as the world collapses around him. His explosions light up the gray sky, a desperate blaze of light against the dreary rain. You've always admired that about him— the way he moves, as if he’s made of steel and pure determination, every blast a declaration of his existence.

But something’s wrong. Something horrible, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

He's still fighting, still charging forward like he can tear the war apart with his bare hands. But his moves—they're frantic, faster, too fast. He's pushing himself too hard, beyond his limits, like he's racing against the clock, against the inevitable. His explosions are growing stronger, more desperate— sparklingly devastating— but it comes with a cost, one you can feel in the hollows of your bones.

You scream his name, but your voice is swallowed by the storm of battle. It rips from your throat, raw and shredded, but he does not turn around.

He does not stop.

Despite the gaping wound in your side, the blood seeping through your clothes, painting the ground in your wake. Despite the universe screaming at you to rest, to lie down, to simply pause.

You can't. You won’t. You’re running— legs moving dragging in the dirt faster than your mind can keep up with. It’s like being caught in a dream where time moves too slowly. You can’t reach him, and every step makes you feel that much further away.

You’ve been tethered to him for as long as you can remember— an invisible red string stretching between you both, tangled in childish arguments when you were five, in unsaid words when you were 13, in the fire that intertwines your souls.

Soulmates.

You both knew it long before the words could be spoken, though you never dared to voice it. Maybe from fear? Pride? Who knows. But you’ve felt it deep in your core since the day you met, a pull so strong it made the world tilt around him.

And now, with each step you take, that string feels like it’s fraying.

Shigaraki's monstrous form surges from the smoke like a nightmare come to life, his limbs distorted and twisted, swinging toward Bakugou like a scythe cementing his fate. Time stretches thin, your breath freezing in your throat.

Your scream rips through the silence in your head, but it’s too late. You watch it happen— frame by frame, the universe mocking you with its cruelty. Shigaraki’s blow lands— dead center— and Bakugou’s body flies, the sound of impact thunders, tearing the sky apart.

Everything stops. He lands in the dirt, his eyes wide, the fierce determination flickering out like a candle’s flame.

The world crumbles around you, but it doesn't matter anymore. The war, the heroes, the villains— they all disappear, fading into white noise as you collapse beside him. You are too late, a mantra that replays in your head over and over and over. You hit your knees, pain shooting through your bones, but you don’t care. You’re shaking, hands trembling as they reach for his face, his chest— anything solid, anything real to anchor yourself to this moment, to make this stop.

"Katsuki," you whisper, your voice thorns against your throat.

He doesn’t move. His body lies still, too still, and there’s blood— so much fucking blood— pouring from his wounds, painting the ground in crimson. Your hands press against his chest, trying to hold it back like you can turn back time with your will alone, but he's slipping through your fingers like sand, like the life draining out of him.

“Katsuki, please,” you sob, weary and desperate.

His eyelids flutter, just for a moment, his crimson gaze locking with yours. And in that fleeting second, he’s still there. Your Bakugou, the one who burned too brightly, the one who never stopped fighting, never stopped living like he was invincible. His lips part, like he wants to say something, but no sound comes out. His hand twitches, just barely, and you grab it, holding on like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this world.

There was supposed to be more time. More moments. More chances to say the things you were both too scared to admit. To yell, to scream, to love him, to tell him you were soulmates in every damn sense of the word.

His eyes shake, and his grip weakens.

"Fuck, Katsuki, no," you plead with him, leaning down until your forehead presses against his, your breath ragged and hot against his cooling skin. "Don’t you fucking dare."

The words fall into the void, swallowed by the silence of the dying. There’s no answer, no spark left in him.

The weight of it crashes down, crushing your chest, your heart shattering into barbed pieces you’ll never be able to put back together.

He’s gone.

Your everything— ripped from you, stolen by this war.

And the world, the entire universe, your red string feels like it’s collapsing around you. The battle still rages on, distant explosions and screams filling the air, but it all feels so far away. All you can do is hold him, cradling his broken body in your arms, feeling the warmth slip away with every passing second. Everything has stopped, everything is ending, and all you’re left with is the hollow, unbearable ache in your chest where he used to be.

Just like that, the war takes more than it ever should have.

It takes him.

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