#💕katsuki

[bakug0uzb1thc]

Part two of fem reader and bakugo cuddling pls (longer Version please)💗

eekkk i didnt think it would get so much attention here you go!!

PT 2 OF THIS !! :3

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“kat-" you tried to voice your complaints again, but it was short-lived by the same sleepy blonde telling you to 'shut up.’ He just wasn't letting up and you just knew someone saw.

"but- i just know someone saw us, oh were gonna be so screwed." you said franticly playing with his hair, only causing him to groan. "you're so paranoid, stop focusing on other people for once..." he mumbled from where he laid on your chest.

he could hear the way your heart rate increase, only further proving your concern with the position you laid with him. He was flush against your body with his weight slowly suffocating you.

"I'm sorry its just ugh.. never mind." you tried to calm yourself down from your cloud of worry but it didn't stop your nerves from being on edge.

your face felt hot with his attitude towards the situation you had found yourself in. how nonchalant he was being about this made you squirm, did he not care at all? (he didn't.)

he knew you weren't huge on PDA and you liked to keep your close relationship private but it was messing with his beauty sleep and his temper grew even shorter then when he was fully awake.

he got up, which made you calm down a bit but before you could let out your sigh of relief he grabbed your waist and threw you over his shoulder causing you to squeal.

You weren't sure what would cause your classmates to freak out more; The two of you cuddling or you thrown over his shoulder with a hand full of your ass.

"ah- kat what are you-" you held on tight to his compression shirt from the back, scared of being upside down and the possibility he might drop you if you complained about his actions. "I'm tired and I'm sick of your whining. you need to learn to shut up." he fought a yawn as his hand trailed from the dent behind your knee to your lower ass, not anything sexual it was just where he found his hand resting.

"uh-" you didn't know what to tell him or throw back to defend yourself, you just held on tight curious on which room he was headed to.

"yer lucky you're getting your way." he scoffed making his way to his room, not feeling the hassle of accidentally bumping into anyone on your floor. it took him about 2.5 seconds to put you in the same position you were in on the commons couch.

he loved the soft cushion of your chest, built in pillows for all his tired mind could think as far of. "now are you gonna be quiet or am i going to have to smother you with a pillow, brat." he was unique in the way he shows his love towards you, you knew his words had no ill intent behind them but it did make you giggle from his groggy state.

"nono I'm done i swear." you smiled, pushing your head deeper into the pillow that felt like was pre-fluffed just for you. (it was.) "good." he mumbled before closing his eyes and resuming what you had so rudely interrupted. "you're so needy.." you whispered, thinking he was asleep.

"i will suffocate you don't try your luck." he countered which made you laugh before kissing the top of his head. You loved your 'best friend.' ;p

[bakvrue]

cw: alcohol and being tipsy, fluff

“Katsuki,” you sing, winding your arms tighter around his neck.

“Hm?”

He's carrying you on his back, his arms hooked around your legs holding you in place, even when you're swaying side to side.

“Katsukiiiiii,” the bottle you managed to drink tonight is contributing to your syllables slurring, but not the fluttering in your chest.

“Yes princess?”

Your cheeks warm and you bury your nose into his hair. He's so warm, and perfect, and smart, and funny, and strong, and wonderful, and handsome, and annoying, and so good.

He walked from your apartment to the bar a few streets over where you were having drinks with your friends with all because of one emoji.

A pouty face sent at 1:30 to which he replied ‘stay where you are.’ A few minutes later your friends were booing when he picked you out of your booth and threw you over his shoulder.

You hug him tighter and whisper his name, “Katsuki.”

You can practically feel his eyebrow cocked at you. “You just gonna say my name all night?”

You shake your head and wiggle in his hold again, leaning backwards (making it more difficult for him).

The streetlights drown out the stars in the sky and each of Katsuki’s footsteps takes you closer to the home you've made together.

“Katsuki,” you pause, “I love you. Thank you for putting up with me.”

He pinches your leg, “It's not putting up with you if I chose to do so.

Your limbs feel lighter than air as your heart doubles in size.

God you love him.

“You didn't say it back,” you say, narrowing your eyes playfully and poking the back of his head.

“Well you said stupid shit after—”

“Hey!”

He shakes his head, adjusting you in his hold again; hoisting you higher, higher than is necessary almost over his head and you grab onto his shoulders. His own prank amusing him as your head spins.

“I love you too”

[menuliso]

katsuki fighting for izuku: glamourous, spectacular, gorgeous, elegant. pretty quirk upgrade. sparkles. introspective inner monologue about izuku, flashbacks about izuku, complete devotion.

izuku fighting for katsuki:

ARAFAGAFGGH. PEGWLWBWKWBSSOAHAHAIIOPVJO. “2!92)292211?007.7&/71992. FERAL. OUT OF CONTROL. TERRIFYING. UNLOCKING ENTIRE NEW QUIRKS LIKE SOME ELDRITCH BEAST. 92)291!1”1?2@&/!:@2@1009 NOONE TOUCHES KACCHAN. 👹👺👺👹👹👹👹👺👹👹👹👹👹👹😡🤬😡😡🤬😡😡😡👹👹👹👹

[a11eya]

TITLE: lights will guide you home

CHAPTER: 8

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Soul-lights aren’t as common in this day and age as they were in the past, before quirks, but they’re common enough that people do still find their soulmates.

At thirteen, you meet Bakugou Katsuki, and he lights up for you in orange and gold. You tell him he's your soulmate. He sneers and tells you that you aren't his. He makes your adolescence miserable until you part ways.

You meet again as adults, late at night, in a grocery store, over a pile of bok choy. He apologizes for how he treated you when you were children.

(In which you have a choice—to reject Bakugou's apology, reject him, or to let him show you the man he's become, to learn with him what it means to love and forgive.)

TAGS: soulmate au, trope inversion/subversion, slow burn, getting together, falling in love, fluff, aged up characters, pro-hero characters, eventual smut, mild bullying

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

Ikeda tells you that two of the pictures—only two!—you took of Bakugou are viable and that one of the videos is passable. It’s a little harsh, in your opinion, especially considering who your subject was. 

She also asks you for the name of the organization you used to foster the kittens. You tell her the organization name, and, a little sheepishly, that the adoption and foster program’s called Save the Meow Meows. It makes her laugh. 

“Next time, try to get Dynamight to smile, okay?” she says after her laughter dissolves into a grin, audible even over the phone. “He looks like he’s being held hostage in 90% of these.”

“I know. I tried, but you know how he is.” It takes a half-second for the entirety of her words to process. You blink. “Wait, next time?”

“Well, yeah!” she says, sounding amused. “This first post we just put up on Dynamight’s socials is already doing well, and your pictures with him at the pet store are in the rearview mirror. Who knew that people would like them so much? No accounting for taste, I suppose.” 

Well. You knew, the moment you saw Bakugou pick up Mikan. There’s one photo in particular that didn't make it to Dynamight’s social media because Mikan’s mid-motion in it, but something about Bakugou’s expression… You’ll never tell him, but the two of them together make such a pretty picture that you favorited it on your phone. 

You try to pay attention as Ikeda continues, “A couple more posts should suffice, so we need more photos with him in different clothes, maybe in a different spot in your apartment, individual shots with each kitten… and definitely better expressions. Only makes sense, right?”

“Right…”

“You can go ahead and let him know about the additional shoots; you did a great job of coordinating things between you. And good job wrangling him so far! Keep up the good work! ”

“Thanks,” you say, after a pause, to the dial tone. You wonder if Bakugou knows how much Ikeda dislikes him. 

Grimacing, you type out a message and send Bakugou the bad news. 

You: Hey. Just finished talking to Ikeda. She says we need to take more pictures 🙏

Not a minute passes before your phone begins vibrating in your hand. You eye it like it’s a snake and answer hesitantly. 

“…Hello?”

“What’dya mean, more pictures?” Bakugou snaps. 

“Literally, there are no other meanings for that statement.”

“Call her back and tell her to fuck off.”

“Bakugou,” you sigh in exasperation. “I’m not gonna tell her to fuck off. Also, she’s your PR person. If you have complaints, shouldn’t you tell her directly?”

“The fifty pictures you took weren’t enough?” he demands.

“She says we need to take pictures of you wearing different clothes, in different spots in my apartment, so it’s clear they happened on different days. She also says you need solos with each of the kittens. And that you need to smile.” 

Quietly, you mutter away from the receiver, “Like I told you to.”

Bakugou must have the ears of a bat because his tone lowers, dangerous. “What’d you say, brat? Come and say that to my face.”

“Make me,” you say immediately, then close your eyes, feeling embarrassed. He really does bring out an unfortunately childish side of you. 

The line goes silent.

You wait, wondering if you pissed him off. 

“Text me when you’re free this week,” he says abruptly. “I’ll come by for the damn pictures.”

He hangs up before you can reply. 

Bakugou: I’m outside. 

Standing from your couch, you walk over to your front door and pull it open.

“Hey,” you tell him, but you stop in confusion when you notice he has a duffle bag in one hand and a reusable bag, the kind you’d put groceries in, in the other. His expression is pinched when your eyes meet.

“Here,” Bakugou says, and shoves the reusable bag at you. You automatically grab at the handles and make a sound when he lets go; it’s heavy. 

“Gotta reschedule the dumb photos. I was called in for work,” he says. 

Bakugou steps back, clearly moving to leave, and you grab his wrist.  

“Hold on,” you say. You let your hand fall from him and raise the reusable bag. “What is this?”

“Nutrients instead of the garbage you usually have. Be grateful,” he tells you, baring his teeth in a mean smile. You make a face at him, instinctively, and the mean fades from his smile, shifting to an amused twist of his lips. He looks at you as if he’s going to say something more. He doesn’t. 

Bakugou turns and makes his way down the hallway. 

You stare at his back, then duck your head to look at the contents of the bag. 

There are several bentos in there, stacked neatly, easily a week’s worth of lunches. The ones at the top have sticky notes on them, labeled with a number and what looks like a list of ingredients. 

When it finally clicks what you’re holding, your eyes widen. 

You shove your feet into some slides, grabbing another shoe to hold your door open, and chase Bakugou down the hallway, lugging the bag with you.

“Bakugou, wait,” you call, catching up to him where he’s waiting at the elevator, duffle bag on the ground. 

He turns to look at you, eyes narrowed. You come to an abrupt halt in front of him and try to give him the bag back. 

Bakugou crosses his arms, a refusal. “The fuck are you doing?”

“I can’t accept this,” you say. “It’s so much food! And was probably a lot of work to make!”

“S’why you should shut up and keep it,” he growls. “Go back.”

You scrabble about for a more convincing argument. “You should keep it. You’re going to work, right? You need lunch!”

“Already got lunch. This shit’s just because I made extra meal prepping this week,” Bakugou says.

Your mouth opens, and you furrow your brow, looking down at the bag. Uncertain, now.

“If you don’t want it, toss it,” he tells you, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t do that,” you gasp, just as the elevator arrives and opens. 

One of your neighbors, coming back from walking her dog, blinks at the both of you from inside the elevator. 

You quickly step closer to where Bakugou’s standing so she can pass. Bakugou picks up his duffle bag so it isn’t in the way, and you exchange greeting smiles with your neighbor as she slips by. Her big dog stops to sniff at the bag you’re holding, no doubt detecting the food, but your neighbor tugs at the leash and away.

Feeling self-conscious now that you have an audience, even if she is getting further down the hall, you turn back to Bakugou. He’s looking at you already, an exasperated expression on his face.

“Stop being stubborn,” he says, mouth a downward slash. “Gotta go. Eat that shit or don’t. I don’t care.”

He steps into the elevator and jabs the button for the ground floor. He’s gone before you can come up with a response.

You stack the bentos in your fridge, taking care not to jostle them more than you had during your jog down the hallway. As you place the last one inside, you trace the edge of its lid thoughtfully.  

You weren’t sure, at first, why these bentos bothered you, why your first reaction was to try to give them back. But the longer you sit on it, the more clarity you have. 

You feel a little guilty, that Bakugou keeps doing things for you, giving you things. The feeling has been building, especially over the past couple weeks since you’ve been messaging him, talking to him. You talk to him nearly every day. You’ve learned he prefers phone calls to texts—not surprising, considering how brief his messages usually are. He’s become part of your routine, and you find yourself feeling like something’s missing when a day passes without a snarky message from him or a phone call where you update him on the kittens, despite his claims of disinterest. 

You don’t want him to think that you only want him around because he gives you things and does stuff for you. You hope nothing about you gives that impression. 

You’re not sure how to tell him this. It makes your stomach swoop, just thinking about bringing it up. Because you know you’ll have to tell him what you just realized: that you like him for who he is. That you like him in your life. That he doesn’t have to earn your time or attention or—or forgiveness with things or by doing things. 

At work the next day, you sit and eat in the break room for the first time in several weeks, nearly crying over your first bite of a bento. It’s so good.

You figured out the numbers on the sticky notes indicate the order in which you should eat the bentos. Even though the ingredients are listed on the notes, you’d been tempted to crack open each bento to see what you’ll be eating later in the week. But so far, you’ve been able to control yourself. It’s kind of nice. Like a little surprise to look forward to each day. 

You finger today’s sticky note, taking in the words crossing it. For some reason, you’d assumed Bakugou would have messy, wild handwriting. But the kanji are precise, neat. You wonder what he’s doing right now.

The break room door opens, and you look up to see a colleague from a different department.

“Hey!” he greets you, crossing the room to fill his water bottle at the fill station. He turns to face you as he waits, and you panic internally, struggling to remember his name. Sato? Suzuki? 

“Surprised to see you in here,” he remarks. “Usually you eat in your office.”

“Yeah!” you say. You had no idea he took so much notice of where you ate. When were you first introduced? A couple months back? You feel worse about not remembering his name. 

You give him a smile, hoping the guilt isn’t on your face. “Just felt like a change of pace today.”

“That bento looks good! Do you like to cook?” he asks.

“Oh! No, a friend made it for me.” Your smile shifts into something more genuine. “He said I’ve been eating garbage, so. His attempt at trying to make sure I don’t die prematurely, I guess.”

“Oh, gotcha,” Sato or Suzuki or something else entirely says, tone shifting, and he picks up his now-full water bottle and twists the cap back on. 

“Well, enjoy your lunch!” he says, waving goodbye as he leaves the break room. 

You stare at the closing door for a brief moment before shaking your head. You need to find out that guy’s name before you see him again. He totally clocked you for not recognizing him, because what was that weird look on his face as he left? You decide to ask your team—discreetly!—what his name is after your lunch break.

When you’re finished eating, you snap a picture of the empty bento and send it to Bakugou.

You: Thank you for the food! 🙏

You: You know, if you ever change your mind about the hero thing, I think you’d get a job as a chef, easy

After a moment, you decide to send another message. You want to bring up the thoughts you’d had the other day, about how you don’t want him to feel compelled to keep doing things for you, but you feel like it’s a conversation better had in-person. Or on the phone, at least. 

It takes you several minutes of deleting and drafting before you settle on something inadequate. 

You: Sorry I was so weird about it yesterday 

Standing abruptly, too chicken to wait to see if he replies, you clean up your area and get back to work. 

It’s at the end of the work day, on the train, when you check your messages again. A text from Bakugou is waiting for you in your inbox, and you’re definitely not nervous when you tap on it to read it.

Bakugou: Better be sorry. Next time, don’t be a brat about it

You exhale, huffing a laugh, relieved. You type out a response.

You: Yes, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight sir 

He doesn’t reply. One thing about Bakugou is that he leaves his read receipts on—intentionally, you suspect, because it’s just like him to make sure you know he’s ignoring you, even through texts. It makes you grin.

The week passes, and you find yourself staring at a pile of empty bento boxes, hands on your hips.

You: Hey, when can I return the bento boxes? Washed them and everything!!

Bakugou: I’d fuckin’ hope so 

You: 😒

You: Should I drop them off at your agency? 

Bakugou: No, bring ‘em to my place

He sends you an address.

A part of you is a little relieved he’d suggested you not bring them to his agency. Thinking about it, going there to drop off a bag of empty bento boxes feels a little too… revealing. That people might see that you have the kind of relationship where he makes you lunch. You don’t want to cause trouble, especially since the pet store fiasco is just starting to fade from people’s memories. 

You: 👍

“Hi.” You feel a little out of place, standing in the hallway outside Bakugou’s apartment. You hold up the bag of bento boxes. “I brought the goods.”

Mentally, you’re kicking yourself. You’re always saying such dumb shit in front of him. 

Bakugou’s gives you a deadpan look, an I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that look. 

“Well don’t just stand there,” he says, and moves back to give you some room.

You step past the threshold, and he closes the door behind you. He grabs the bag from you and heads deeper into his apartment. Hurriedly, you toe off your shoes and follow him.

He’s gone into his kitchen, you realize, and he has a cabinet open, where he’s placing the bento boxes inside, one by one. He meets your gaze as he’s putting one away, and while maintaining eye contact with you, he opens one of them and makes a show of inspecting it for cleanliness.

“Very funny,” you say dryly. 

Bakugou barks out a laugh and you smile, despite yourself.

As he continues to put away the boxes, you take a moment to glance around his kitchen while he’s busy.

It’s big. It has some fancy-looking appliances you wouldn’t typically find in a home kitchen. The stove looks top-of-the-line, and you see an impressive-looking knife set displayed on the counter. There’s even a stand mixer in one corner. You wonder if Bakugou bakes. 

“Y’want water, tea?” he asks, closing the cabinet and turning to you.

“Oh, water’s fine, thanks,” you say. You’re chagrined; even Bakugou’s a better host than you are.

You lean your side against one of the counters, watching as he grabs a pair of glasses and fills them up. 

He’s the most dressed down you’ve ever seen him, in a faded shirt and worn pants that he easily could’ve slept in. His hair is nearly flat, falling in relaxed strands, softening him. All his edges are blunted, here, in his apartment.

You murmur a thank you as he gives you your water, and you subtly study his face as he drains his glass. He leans a hip against the counter. 

He looks a little tired, slight bags under his eyes. The way he’s holding himself is relaxed, but his shoulders slant, droop in a way you haven’t seen before. When he leans over to place his cup in the sink, his shirt lifts a little, exposing a glimpse of skin and the lip of his boxers rising above the waistband of his pants. His lights are gentle swirls around him, bathing him in a soft glow. 

He’s handsome, it dawns on you. The thought flusters you, and heat begins to rise to your cheeks. 

What the hell? You’ve seen him in casual clothes; you’ve seen him in his hero suit. Objectively, people are more attractive when put together, right? Presentable. There’s nothing about him, now, that you should find attractive. He’s just some guy, standing in his kitchen.

But Bakugou in his off mode, at home, does something to you. It’s like wires rearrange in your head, and you can’t stop looking at him. 

“Hey,” you say—anything to leave this train of thought behind, because nope. “Thanks again for the food. This week was the best I’ve eaten, like ever.”

“You’re damn right it was,” he says, and you roll your eyes, smiling. 

“Alright, alright, Mr. Ego. I did want to talk about something else, too, while I’m here. If you have a minute.” By the time you’re finished talking, a serious note you’re unable to help has crept into your voice. 

An expression you’re unable to decipher flickers across his face. Bakugou crosses his arms. “Spit it out.”

You put your glass down on the counter, fiddling with it. Stalling, you realize. 

“I want you to know… you don’t have to do all this for me, okay?” you say, glancing up at him. 

His eyes narrow. 

You continue, hurriedly, to clarify. “I mean, like buying me the couch protectors, or making me lunches. I appreciate it all, I do.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Bakugou says, a little growl on the end of his sentence. 

“I just don’t want you thinking you need to do these things for me,” you say, voice faltering, quieting. “Even if you don’t cook me another meal, or buy me a single thing, ever, that’s fine with me.” 

Please understand, you will to him, watching him. Your thoughts feel clumsy, your words clumsier, like it’s a monumental effort just to string two sentences together. You can’t find the words to tell him what you mean: that you think he’s funny when he quips at you and that you know he’s observant, thoughtful. That you like talking to him, spending time with him. It’s enough.

Maybe you have found the words, but you can’t say them aloud just yet. Not yet.

“I know I don’t need to do shit. I only do shit I wanna do,” Bakugou says gruffly.

You open your mouth to argue, to try again to make sure he understands you, but he interrupts, puts a hand on your head. He’s a little rough, but his hand is warm. Reassuring. There’s a softness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You could fall into them, like this. 

“You think too much,” he tells you, but peering into his face—you think he’s heard you, loud and clear. 

You do think too much, you acknowledge on the train ride home. 

You’d left his apartment soon after your conversation; he’d needed to get ready for work. But your thoughts still buzz with him. 

You think about how the shape of your life has changed with him in it, within just a couple weeks. You think about the fact that he’s your soulmate but you’re not his, how this is something that can’t be changed, no matter how well you get to know Bakugou and how well he gets to know you. It’s been a long time since this—that you can see his lights but he can’t see yours—bothered you. You thought you’d accepted it, moved on from it. 

It really, really bothers you.

[bluerosety-blog]

Kacchan studying with Izuku is so cute! 🥰💕 Todoroki looks so done though lol! 🤣

[gradelstuff]

Kohei Horikoshi's key visual, "Hero VS Enemy," for the Heroaca Exhibit in 2025

[ruedesu]

Bakugou x reader, experimenting with writing this au, might continue it depending on the brainrot.

cw: death, descriptions of death, silly

Heavily heavilyy inspired by the manga Re-Living My Life with a Boyfriend Who Doesn't Remember Me

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Stay with me."

Katsuki's hand winds around your waist pulling you closer to him.

"Stay with me for the rest of the night."

A warm breeze blows through the leaves of the courtyard trees, and shadows of leaves dance across his face. Spring is here, and that means graduation is right around the corner.

"Katsuki, I-"

His lips interrupt yours as he kisses you. A dance of need and passion; his hands go to your neck, angling your head for a deeper kiss.

He steals the breath from your lungs as if there is nothing easier in this world for him to do.

You could die happily in this very moment as long as he never lets you go.

Smiling, you pull away, and his lips chase you. You grant him one more kiss before pulling away again, this time spinning just out of his reach.

"I would love nothing more than to continue, but I have to go to the supplemental class Aizawa is teaching, or I won't graduate."

His shoulders slump, "You can't skip, just this once?"

You raise your eyebrows, "Is Bakugou Katsuki asking me to skip a class?"

He rolls his eyes and looks away from you, giving you a perfect angle of his lower lip puff out in annoyance, but his hand reaches for yours. His heart shows you his true colors.

"I want to talk about what happens after we graduate..."

It's hard to hide the smile on your face, "We will, tonight I promise. But first, I have to actually graduate."

His eyes turn back to you, and his thumb draws circles on the back of your palm.

There's something swirling in his mind, a worry that you don't know how to quench, until he blinks it away, banishing it from his mind.

"Find me right after, okay?"

You nod quickly, "Right after, I promise."

His hand, still holding yours, pulls you into his embrace. His strong arms wrap around you, squeezing you so tightly you can barely use your arms to hug him back.

"I'll be in the lounge in the west wing waiting." He whispers, kissing your hairline.

He releases you from his hug prison, his fingertips trace the length of your arm until his fingers lock with yours again.

Your heart thumps in your chest. He's being so clingy you're going to explode.

"Katsuki, is there-"

Across the courtyard, the bell tower strikes four. The loud chimes echo in your ear as you curse. "Shit, we'll talk tonight. I promise."

You quickly gather your bag from the base of the tree and run back to Bakugou for another kiss.

"The west lounge, I won't forget."

"You better not." He says begrudgingly, but with a small smile in the corner of his pout.

You just one more smqll kiss and then run to Mr. Aizawa's lesson.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Oh it's so late, I hope Katsuki's not worried.

Your boots splash through puddles as you try to dodge the large raindrops.

You make it to the west wing and dry yourself off as you climb the stairs with haste in your step.

The lounge door opens with a small creak, and your lungs are instantly filled with warmth.

The lounge is a medium-sized room with tables lining the walls and a hearth directly opposite the door with two lounging chairs in front of it.

The room is empty except for the small spikes of blonde you can see poking up from the lounging chairs.

You set your things down and walk around the chair, ready to be met with an annoyed but relieved gaze, but instead, his eyes are closed, and his head rests against the back of the chair.

He fell asleep waiting for you. Your heart nearly grows two sizes, and you're mentally screaming your love for him over and over again.

You sit down on the floor next to his leg and rest your head against his thigh.

You're expecting his usual warmth to reach you, to seep into your bones and wash away all your worries, but instead, you're met with cold.

Lightning flashes through the window, and the crack of the thunder jumpstarts your anxiety.

"Katsuki?"

You pick your head up, scanning his body for any type of movement.

"Katsuki?!"

You rush to check his chest, his heart, and it's silent. Cold.

You panic. How? Adrenaline courses through you, and you carefully pull your lover from his chair to the floor.

You scream for help as you unbutton his shirt, looking for any signs of trauma or blood.

"Please, please," you beg, your own lungs struggling to take in enough air.

"Someone! Help him!"

Lightning flashes again, the bright light illuminating his body, and sears the macabre scene into your memory.

"Help!" You shout again before a cough takes hold of you, and you clutch your throat. Your lungs are filling with fire.

Your vision starts to blur, no, no, no.

You try to yell, to scream, but no sound comes out.

I have to save him... I have to...

You look to the door, and back to Katsuki.

Please.

You try to crawl, but your arms can't support the weight.

Please.

I have to save him.

Thunder booms as your eyes close.

Please.

You stretch your hand out to reach Katsuki one last time.

Please.

A shock pierces through you, and then the world fades to black.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Gasping for air, you bolt upright.

What was that? A dream? That was way too real to be just a dream. I was in love, almost graduated... until... oh my god.

You push your mind to remember every detail, pulling every memory from a fog so that you won't forget.

Katsuki...

Your heart yearns for him. Is he alive? Where is he?

And for that matter, where are you?

You look around the room and the realizationshocks you. No... no way.

You get out of bed, run to the mirror in the corner of the room, and look at your reflection.

This can not be happening. You pinch your cheeks, no. You slap your cheeks, absolutely not.

And then there's a knock on your door calling your name, "Are you going to spend your tenth birthday in your room? Come out for breakfast!"

I went back in time?!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

a/n: thanks for reading!! I've had this stuck in my head for days and had to get it out. Def go check out the original book if you're craving more of this trope. I might write more because I am living for it. If I do write more I'll probably add more details about the setting but I think this is a good start!

[bakug0uzb1thc]

I know you

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou X GN! Reader

Summary: postwar you find out how much you both mean to eachother.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

After the war, everything was different. Including you and Katsuki’s relationship, there was something that changed, wither it was respect for each other or the fact you lost him. You didn’t think in a million years you would lose someone so close to you, someone you cared so much about, someone you loved.

When you saw him after everything it was like you were given your soul back.

“K-Kat?” the blanket that was previously wrapped around you was now forgotten as you abandoned it, you ran as fast as you could over to him despite your injuries. Your eyes watered as you saw the blonde, he was heavily wounded from the blows he endured but he was alive and conscious.

His vermilion eyes widening as he heard your angel like voice call out for him, he’d deny it but it made him tear up. “Y/n?” He scanned the area, he thought he was crazy until he saw your limping figure come closer to him. “Oh my god.” You covered your mouth, now completely forgetting about your wounds and sprint over to him, your body aching in anger but you pushed it aside throwing yourself at him. He groaned but wrapped his arms around you tightly, terrified you would let go. That’s when it happened, you both crumbled into each-others arms. The war finally hitting you both in its severity.

You pulled back grabbing his face, he was your Katsuki. He had a new founded scar on his face but it was still him. “Oh katsuki, I- I thought I lost you.” You kissed his face, yammering off your worry as your tears were now free falling.

He didn’t know what to say in the moment, he just watched you. Watched the concern and worry pour out of you, he didn’t exactly process how much he loved you until that moment. “Y/n I love you.” You paused your rapid thoughts. he started to cry, knowing that he almost left you. Left the person he loved the most behind, he imagined how scared you must’ve been. He also realized that he almost never got to see you again. “I love you so much, you have no idea.” He wasn’t good with words but he was trying his hardest to express his admiration for you. “You have no idea.. I never wanna leave you again y/n . It will never be that easy to get rid of me. ”

the next few days were rough, but he never left your side and you never left his. you guys were attached to the hip, it wasn’t a chore to be around him. It made you feel warm knowing he was safe, that you would never have to worry about losing him ever again.

(Sorry for angst, I needed to barf ideas rq. :^)

[bakvrue]

“Hey! Wait up!”

Bakugou looks over his shoulder and sees you waive your arm as you run out of the training building behind him.

He exhales, frosty breath making a grumpy cloud in front of him. He was the last to leave for a reason, or so he thought.

He doesn't stop walking but he slows his steps until you catch up to him. Your winter coat is haphazardly thrown on, and the laces of your boots aren't tied, rather they're tucked into your boots. Would probably be dangerous if you slipped on the ice.

“Hey, thanks for waiting.” Your breath comes out in short puffs. “I was worried about walking back in the dark alone and then I heard the locker room door close. Grabbed my stuff and ran out. I had a feeling it might have been you.”

“What were you doin’ there so late anyways? Why didn't you go back with everyone else?”

Katsuki can feel your eyes on him, almost as if you're surveying him, looking for something hidden in his features. He keeps his heart steady, praying that it's dark enough now you can't see the way his ears warm under your gaze.

You sigh, frustrated, defeated. “I haven't been able to get one of my new moves down right. What I'm trying to do is do a kick and then send the force of my quirk through my heel. But every way i try to kick either ends up with me on my ass or in a position that leaves me vulnerable right after or leaves me with my heel not in the right spot. I end up off-balance no matter what.”

You take your hat out of your bag, pull it over your eyes and let out a frustrated sound in annoyance. Almost like an angry cat.

Katsuki has watched you train, hell he's even gone up against you. He knows how strong you are. If this is something bothering you maybe it has to do with form? Or flexibility?

“Can you do a pistol squat?”

You stop walking, “A what?”

He turns and puts his bag on the sidewalk. “It's a really deep one legged squat.”

He balances on one leg, and then lowers himself slowly. His other leg extends in front of him and his body lowers so that his femur is parallel to the ground at knee length.

“Yeah I cannot do that,” you laugh. “I'm pretty sure my knees would explode.”

“Try it.”

“Do you want to see me fall in my ass? In the snow? Are you evil?”

He raises his eyebrows and you already know his response.

“Fine, let me try.” You put your bag down next to him and take a deep breath of the chilly night air.

One leg out, arms out for balance. Lower yourself, slowly, slowly… slow…

“WAA”

Your body falls backwards, your arms swinging around for anything to save you, panic setting in quickly.

Hands connect with yours just before your ass would have hit the cement.

You open your eyes, not even realizing that they squeezed shut, and you see Katsuki's hands holding yours.

Your heart thumps in your chest, your cheeks instantly hot enough to melt snow.

Katsuki's gaze follows yours, and he quickly looks away. But he doesn't let go.

“You good?” His cheeks and the tips of his ears flush.

“I— yeah, I'm good.”

He pulls you up, and both of you grab your bags.

“We should probably get back before Iida yells at us about curfew.”

“Right, let's go.”

[tomatorabbitsticker]

So you’re telling me that 1-A had to go out and raise money to fund Izuku’s suit? HE SAVED THE FUCKING WORLD AND NO ONE ELSE COULD HELP PAY??? Why couldn’t they set up a go fund me or something???

[denkisauce]

being bakugou katsuki

bnha 358 // in your dreams, nerd! - sapphicflower, ao3 // cut, caitlyn siehl

[realcube]

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ CHARACTER GENERATOR for @4unnyr0se

𓆩♡𓆪 part of my lovers level — 3k follower event

𓆩♡𓆪 chosen trope: enemies to lovers

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR CHARACTER IS...

KATSUKI BAKUGO

you were acquainted with bakugo from training under best jeanist. and let it be known, you were there first. but one day, mr king explosion murder came sauntering and suddenly he's the centre of attention! jeanist's most "promising protégé". it just wasn't fair, nor did it make any sense.

especially because bakugo didn't embody any qualities a hero should have; and you had no problem saying that to his face. he wasn't compassionate, empathetic or humble — in fact, he would often brag about his superiority from coming from a more renowned school. he'd bring it up whenever the two of you were squabbling (which was frequently).

needless to say, you and katsuki bakugo were not on good terms. whenever you were in the same room together, it would always dissolve into a screaming match, to the point where best jeanist just found it easiest to keep you two apart than to try teach you both civility.

anyway, today you aren't at work, so you didn't have to worry about all that. instead, you're slumped on your couch in your pyjamas, watching your favourite animes while idly sketching. that is, until you hear your doorbell ring.

you had ordered food earlier to you eagerly hopped to your feet, grabbed your wallet for the tip and shuffled over to the door. you unlock it and peer around the side of the door, trying to hide your figure since you are clad in loungewear. however, that becomes the least of your worries when you lay your eyes upon the delivery guy.

immediately you burst into a fit of cackles at the sight of the one and only katsuki bakugo standing at your door, box of noodles in his hands. once he realises that it's you, he knits his eyebrows together and barks, "eh, what's so funny?!"

you would answer but you can barely construct a sentence with how winded you are from laughing you lungs out. and the one you are able to splutter out, first and foremost has to be a dig, "i see pro-heroing hasn't worked out for you!" your shaky hands grip your phone and open your camera, pointing it at him.

instinctively he covers it with his palms, the small explosions making you jerk your phone away for its safety. "just take your food, damn it!" he huffs, pushing it into your grip, then crossing his arms.

once you have it in your arms, you're able to calm down slightly, taking deep breaths. you wipe a final tear away from your eye, and glance silently between your food and bakugo. "what are we waiting for?"

"what do you think?!" he snaps at you.

"oh, a tip." you smack your lips together and give him a nasty once-over, "i'm good."

just as you are about to close the door in his face, he slams his hand down against it to prevent you from doing so, "i didn't just come all the way over here for nothing! damn noodles almost burned my hands off! give me my tip, lady!"

"awh, poor baby." you pout in order to taunt him, which only makes him even redder.

he huffs and snatches the noodles out of your hands, "fuck off! if your not going to tip me, then this is mine, thanks."

you roll your eyes, wanting more than anything to yank his hair and take your noodles back, but knowing if you show any sign of frustration, you'll be giving him what he wants. "right. i ordered the spiciest noodles on the menu. you couldn't handle that."

more tiny explosions seemed to be going off. "you're kidding! you think i can't handle it? get real!" he begins to open your noodle box, which is when a fearful tightness builds in your chest, "you're the one who couldn't handle it."

he takes one of the provided wooden forks and jabs it into your food, while you realise he was being genuine about the whole 'eating your food' thing. you thought it was a manipulation tactic to get you to grovel or something but no, this greedy bitch was seriously about to eat your noodles!

so you have to act fast, and think of a way you can have at least some of your meal, because there was no way he was just going to hand it over.

"wait—" you call out, and he freezes, looking up at you while faced down towards the noodles, right as he was about to take a slurp. "why don't we make it a contest? see who can eat more without crying."

bakugo smirked. there was no way he was going to back down from any sort of competition. (he was also a bit too keen on the idea of sharing food with you, but anywho.) "something else i can beat you in? sure."

he rips of the spare fork stuck to the side of the box and hands it to you with a fierce glint in his eyes, which you reciprocate. you dig your fork into the noodles as well, and blurt out, "okay. threetwoone go!" then rapidly start shovelling the food into your mouth.

"huh!?" unaware that there was going to be a countdown, and when it was agreed upon that you'd do it, but regardless, without a second thought he also started shoving heaps of noodles into his mouth.

from an outsider's perspective, it was definitely a weird sight to behold. two people standing in a doorway, eating hastily out of one box of noodles as though they've been starved for days. and standing so close to each other, and the optimal position was with your heads close to the box, so naturally your foreheads were almost touching. it didn't help either that the noodles were covered with chili sauce which made an entire mess of both of your faces.

not that either of you cared, you were in it to win it. although you were initially only participating as way of not getting your meal stolen, now that bakugo had ignited the competitive fire within you, the taste for victory creeped in.

with the rate the two of you were eating at, it wasn't long until there was only a heap of noodles left, that both of your forks were desperately scrambling over.

then it happened. you were simply slurping away as you previously have been doing, except one particular noodles strung you along until your lips were milimetres away from bakugo's. not quite touching, but both wide eyed, you realised the situation you were in.

while you froze up from the shock, you expected bakugo to use his teeth to sever the connection so he can continue eating. but what you didn't anticipate was for him to roughly grip the back of your head with his whole arm and pull you in for a heated kiss.

not that you were opposed. perhaps it was because he tasted like delicious noodles, but for some unknown reason, you found yourself melting into the kiss, allowing your lips to move gently against his when his tight hold on you eventually slackened.

it decreased in ferosity until you slowly parted. the air of uncertain passion lingering thick even when you were both stood straight, staring at each other.

there's a pregnant silence that loomed, until bakugo slowly raises his arm and extended his hand towards your cheek. at which you jerked away and scoffed, "you don't need to caress my cheek, princess. i can already tell you like me."

"i wasn't going to do that, idiot! i was trying to wipe the sauce off your stupid face!"

"oh," you uttered, lips parted slightly, "then go ahead, pookie."

for @4unnyr0se: firstly i would like to say that bakugo was delivery driving because best jeanist wanted him to develop humility and patience. bakugo was forbidden from doing pro-hero work until he got a 5-star rating lol 😭

hope you liked this :P i know it's a bit silly but it was either this or i was gonna write hardcore filthy smut for you and sir nighteye. the enemies to lovers thing would be that you're a villain and he catches you so he fucks the evil out of you 😔 but i was like maybe that's too intense lol

[sorrowfulrosebud]

I don't think I did my last "ask" right... Lemme try again

What's wolf Katsuki's favorite activity to do? Other then cuddling of course, cause we all know the man loves him some cuddles, would do it all day if we let him

Your last ask was beautiful my love!!!

Other activities Katsuki likes to do:

ఌ Wrestling with Kirishima, your farming neighbour FatGum’s puppy boy.

The two were rescued from the same shelter after being in a fighting ring, so the two boys bonded together. They much prefer playfully fighting now, knowing that the soft bites on each other’s necks is for fun, and not to kill.

ఌ Taste testing your new snacks.

ఌ As much as he would never admit it, he appreciates you trying to teach him your language.

He understands more than he can physically let out, and has to rely on his natural bodily instincts. Katsuki is grateful that you don’t force him to study ALL the time, and only teach him the basics unless he asks for more. Sign language is a common language in your home.

ఌ Comes as no surprise, but hunting.

You often drive Katsuki to FatGum’s farm and let him exhume his energy by hunting the pests on the farm. You and FatGum sit and laugh as he gets annoyed when a rabbit burrows and he can’t reach it. He and Kiri come back panting and worm out, slumping against each other with grass and dirt staining their bodies.

ఌ Watching TV.

He may not understand it like you do, but he gets sucked in to the small squirrels chittering around, letting out barks when he’s too riled up.

ఌ Napping.

Due to his past, sleep was a privilege. If he wasn’t knocked out or passed out, he rarely had proper sleep. He enjoys just circling on his comfy spot in either your shared bed or his spare bed (that he never uses), and falling asleep until you come home. He knows now that when he has night terrors, he can come to you instead of hide in the bathroom.

ఌ Cuddling.

It’s taken him a loooooong time to get accustomed to human contact that wasn’t malicious, so he still gets a bit skittish and irate when you have an attitude. That’s almost never though, not when you love him so much. Katsuki enjoys snuggling into your neck, nibbling it slightly as your hands slowly circle his waist. His favourite cuddling position is his head in your lap or your tummy as you play with his ears.

ఌ Tug of war.

It was rare that Katsuki could exude his playfulness that he thought had long since died, so when you presented him with a dog-safe chew toy rope, he didn’t know what to feel. It felt unnatural to bite into it, to tug it away and not get a sharp slap. You wouldn’t have dared though. You were gentle with him, gently tugging the rope from him, being super mindful of his teeth. You encouraged him with calm words and coos, until he let out an experimental grunt. He felt his tail spring to life at your happy smile, making you brave enough to try tugging the toy back just a little bit harder.

ఌ Tummy rubs.

He will literally just plonk himself on your lap, place your hand on his tummy and let you run your fingers over his sensitive skin. He even pants when you hit the sweet spot, making you giggle when you see his leg jitter 💕💕

[strawberry-nugget]

I haven’t told yall but im writing a fast and furious au one shot with Bakugo since January that should be ready in July

[katanaski-main]

—𝓐 𝓚𝓐𝓣𝓐𝓝𝓐𝓢𝓚𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 ☃️

𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆ Snowball fights, horse riding in the mountains, cuddling by the fireplace, bonfires, hot chocolate and hotsprings. Walks into town, dinner for two under the northern lights and kisses at midnight ☃︎₊˚⊹♡

What does a holiday gateway look like with your fave? An exotic place? A cozy place only the two of you know? Show me what your time with you favorite lover looks like

☃︎𖠰₊ ⊹❆₊ ⊹ᨒ↟ 𖠰

[scarlet-traveler]

My final KRBK Fluff Week 2025 fic and also my fave! For days 2+10: clingy/sappy + driving/late night talks. Enjoy! <3

~

“Alright big guy, let’s get you home.”

Kirishima was practically a dead weight as Katsuki walked him to his car. Not because he was passed out. No, the drunk idiot had decided to drape his entire weight across Katsuki’s back as soon as they stepped out of the izakaya, leaving Katsuki to half-carry half-drag the other man down the block in a bastard’s piggy back ride. 

The redhead had his head tucked into Katsuki’s neck, his breath hot and wet against his skin and making heat crawl up to his face, and the scent of alcohol stung at his nose as they walked. Kirishima’s arms were lazily looped around his shoulders, and his stumbling steps almost tripped Katsuki up multiple times.

It was frankly a miracle that they made it to the car without incident. “Remind me to not take you to a fucking izakaya anytime soon,” Katsuki grunted as he hauled Kirishima into the passenger seat.

Kirishima’s head lolled to look up at him, eyes glassy like he was about to cry. Ah shit. “I can’t see m’friends?”

Katsuki huffed and pat his cheek, and for some reason that alone was enough to draw a big smile out of him. Stupid drunk rockhead and his rollercoaster emotions. “You can see them all ya want, just do it during lunch so you can’t get wasted. Now turn around and buckle up.”

He waited for Kirishima to shuffle fully into his seat so he could shut his door and go around to the driver’s side.

Kirishima was not, in fact, buckled in by the time Katsuki got into his seat, instead slumped against the window and looking on the verge of passing out. Katsuki reached across to buckle him in himself, and he got a drowsy smile in return. “So manly, Baku, always lookin’ out for me.”

“Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t bash your head on my dash.” He got himself settled and started up the car, starting the drive home. The izakaya the rest of the squad had picked wasn’t too far, just a fifteen-minute drive across town, then Katsuki could get some water into Kirishima to help stem the inevitable hangover in the morning.

“‘M not gonna hurt myself on th’ dash, Bakubro. Got a hard head.” The unmistakable sound of rock on rock followed that statement. Dumbass probably knocked on his own head.

Katsuki snorted. “You’re definitely hard-headed.”

“Not like thaaaaat.” A heavy weight suddenly landed on Katsuki’s shoulder, making him jolt. A peek out of the corner of his eye showed Kirishima slumped on his shoulder, shaking his head, before he nestled his face into Katsuki’s jacket sleeve. “Yer ma best bro in the whoooooole world but yer also a grumpy meanie.”

“Sounds like a you problem, you knew that up front.”

“I diiiid.” Kirishima snuggled deeper into his shoulder. “Yer sooooo nice now, even if you don’ wanna admit it. ‘S why yer the best.”

Katsuki fought back a smile. It was like Kirishima’s encouraging attitude was dialed up to being downright sappy under the effects of alcohol. It was pretty cute.

“We should totally get married, Kats.”

Katsuki’s hand slipped off the wheel in the middle of the turn, almost making him drive up onto the sidewalk. He caught it just in time, narrowly avoiding a pedestrian and righting himself in the lane. By the angry expression and gestures, Katsuki was sure the guy was cussing him out, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as the rapid beat of his heart pounded in his ears, drowning everything else out. Fuck he felt hot, and his hands were slick against the steering wheel cover.

Kats.

Married.

He tried for an amused huff to defuse the tension from Kirishima’s frankly out of left field statement, but it came out weak. They weren’t even dating! “You called me mean and now you wanna marry me? The hell’s up with that, hah?”

Kirishima didn’t even seem aware of the tension at all as he stayed slumped against Katsuki’s stiff shoulder. His hand not squished between them drew lazy patterns across Katsuki’s thigh, his touch prickly through his jeans. “Yeah, but yer not always mean to me. You think yer sooooo good at hidin’ how much of a softy you are t’me but I can see it all. I got a degree in…in…in Katsuki-nomics!” He giggled into his jacket, clearly proud of the dumb joke. It only made Katsuki’s face burn more.

He liked the sound of his name on Kirishima’s tongue way too damn much. Too much to deal with while he was fucking driving.

He glanced at the clock. Only three minutes had passed since they’d left the izakaya.

“But can we get married?” Kirishima asked once his laughter petered out, and Jesus fuck this was gonna be a long drive. “There’s a ring that I’ve been lookin’ at for months, it’d go sooooo well with yer eyes. Really make the red pop.” He made a little explosion motion with his hand next to his own eyes. “Ya gotta pretend m’not askin’ now though! I got a whole plan for how I’m gonna ask, Mina thinks it’s awesome.”

And he just kept talking, rambling about how he’d take Katsuki out to his favorite restaurant, a place they had found on a whim on one of their off days that had Korean-style barbecue that was spicy enough to make Katsuki’s tongue tingle in all the right ways. In the middle of dinner Kirishima would bring out this super awesome ring and say a speech that he’s had memorized for weeks about how much he loved Katsuki and wanted him in his life, but in his drunken state he couldn’t even hope to recite it properly without tripping over himself.

And all the while, Kirishima was oblivious to the white-knuckled grip Katsuki had on the steering wheel, as well as the heat likely rolling off of him in waves from how hot he felt. He kept his eyes on the road, counting down the minutes until their apartment building came into view and hoping all the sweat collecting on his palms didn’t blow up his brand new car before then.

He’s so glad he sprung for the warranty.

“-and I’m thinkin’ a fall wedding, so it won’t be too cold for ya and it’ll match our colors, it’ll be so cool. I could ask yer mom to make us suits, although you’d look amazing in anything, even if you wore a garbage bag-”

Katsuki hadn’t had a single inkling of a clue that Kirishima liked him that way. Was Kirishima sappy and clingy with him a lot? Sure, but he’s been like that ever since they met. Katsuki had just chalked it up to Kirishima being Kirishima.

Unless he was sappy and clingy because of his feelings.

Nine years of liking Katsuki—loving him. Nine years of keeping it all bottled up, content with their friendship, up until one too many drinks uncorked the plug and let everything spill out.

He sighed with relief when they finally made it back in one piece (he did almost lose his front bumper from clipping the curb after Kirishima tried to give a rendition of his wedding vows, though). 

Somehow he was still talking as Katsuki unloaded him from the car, and he didn’t hesitate to drape himself across Katsuki’s back again as they headed inside the building and up to their floor.

“‘M not sure where we’d go for our honeymoon yet,” Kirishima was saying as he nuzzled into Katsuki’s hair, his inhale almost making Katsuki drop his keys as he unlocked the door. “Love yer quirk, makes ya smell good, like a sweet fireplace,” he mumbled into the strands. “But don’t worry about the honeymoon man, I know sex ain’t yer thing so m’not gonna make you do any of that, even if yer hot. Would one-hundo percent tap that if you let me-”

“Okay!” Katsuki wormed out of Kirishima’s grasp once they finally—fucking finally—got into their apartment, heart twisting at Kirishima’s whines and grabby hands as he did but valiantly ignoring them. He toed off his shoes and nudged them aside, then crouched to help Kirishima out of his before herding him out of the genkan. “You will not be tapping a single goddamn thing. You’re gonna drink some water, change out of those clothes because I know you spilled one of your drinks on you, and you’re taking your ass to bed.” He gave Kirishima a nudge toward the bedrooms. “Hop to it.”

“Okay…” Katsuki watched Kirishima stumble into his room before going to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and hunt down something light for him to eat to curb his hangover some.

It also gave him a moment to splash cold water from the sink across his flaming face. The silence was a goddamn blessing. Katsuki didn’t know how much more of their wedding plans he could handle listening to.

Minutes later and water and crackers in hand he pushed open Kirishima’s door, only to stop in the doorway. The clothes he’d been wearing that night sat in a heap on the floor, not quite making it into his hamper, and his dresser drawer was still open from getting clothes, but the bed was empty. Where did he go?

Then he heard a bed creak.

Katsuki’s bed.

Sure enough, pushing open his own door revealed a lump under his blankets, and Katsuki stared, unimpressed. “What the hell are you doing.”

The lump shifted and Kirishima poked his head out, and oh shit, those were his puppy eyes, dialed to a thousand higher than they normally were. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Katsuki was caving before he finished asking. “You better not try anything, fuckface.”

Kirishima rapidly shook his head, hard enough to shake out the last of his falling spikes that had still been standing after the long night. “I’d never! Tha’s not manly, Katsuki!”

Katsuki nodded, his heart flipping at his given name being used again, and he went over and gave him the water and crackers. “Eat up. If you spill anything in my bed I’ll kill you.”

Kirishima rapidly nodded again as he sat up to accept them. “I won’t!”

Dumbass. Cute dumbass.

Katsuki bit back a smile as he turned to get his own sleep clothes and go to the bathroom.

Kirishima was laying down again by the time Katsuki came back, head exposed and eyes sparkling when he saw Katsuki as if he’d been gone for five years instead of five minutes. Katsuki rolled his eyes as he approached the bed, and he only had enough time to flick off the bedside lamp before a warm hand was grabbing his and yanking him down to the mattress. He grunted as he landed, the noise muffled by the bare chest he was tugged into, sweatpant-clad legs tangling with his own under the covers. Sweat, alcohol, and remnants of cedar body wash filled Katsuki’s nose, cloying in his throat. “Kirishima, wha-”

“Call me Eijirou?” he asked softly, his face in his hair again. “Been wanting you to call me that for a long time.”

And Katsuki’s wanted to call him that for a long time. “Eijirou.” The name hung off his tongue like it belonged there, and Katsuki didn’t have a reason to refute that. “You need to sleep.”

Kirishima hummed, settling deeper into the mattress and hugging Katsuki closer, and not even a minute later he was snoring into his ear.

Relative peace, if it weren’t for Katsuki’s mind racing as he stared unseeing at Kirishima’s bare chest. Now still, the last half hour rotated at mach speed in his brain, making his face grow progressively warmer as he recounted everything Kirishima had said. It was a lot, nothing Katsuki had ever expected Kirishima to say, let alone when he was shit-faced. But at the same time, he didn’t hate it, at all.

Tentatively, he snaked his arms around Kirishima’s torso, holding him back. Kirishima squeezed him tighter in his sleep.

Katsuki grinned as he closed his eyes. He had to hand it to the guy, he knew how to plan a hell of a wedding.

~

The curtains over the window were blessedly closed when Eijirou blinked awake the next morning. Just the bit of light that filtered through the fabric was enough to make his eyes ache, so he was glad for the mercy.

He blinked up at the ceiling, trying to remember what it meant to be awake, before turning his head to reach for his phone on the bedside table. He paused when his eyes landed on the lamp. 

That…that was Bakugou’s lamp. What was his doing in Bakugou’s room?

His brain immediately jumped to the absolute worst possibility, and he jerked upright, flipping the blankets off of him, only to stop short when the worst headache he’s ever had slammed into his skull. He hunched over with a moan, cupping his hands over his face to block out the rest of the light and fight back his rising nausea.

Fuck hangovers. Fuck alcohol. He wasn’t drinking again for the next decade at least.

He peeled his hands away from his eyes once he felt like he wouldn’t keel over and puke at any second, and he looked around the bedroom. No clothes strewn about the room, and Eijirou’s own sweats and boxers were still where they were supposed to be on his body. No other wayward messes. No evidence of anything suspicious happening the night before.

Eijirou sighed with relief. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he had done that to Bakugou.

He did see a full glass of water left on the bedside table, along with a bottle of pain killers, and Eijirou could’ve cried.

Man, he loved Bakugou so much.

Water and medicine consumed, the scent of breakfast greeted Eijirou when he stumbled out of the bedroom. He followed it hungrily, finding a covered plate of food and another glass of water waiting for him at the dining table. Bakugou sat in the opposite chair, scrolling on his phone and sipping a cup of coffee, but he looked up when Eijirou came in. “How ya feeling?”

“Like a building collapsed on me.” Eijirou collapsed into his chair, gratefully drinking the water. “Can we go bowling or something for the next squad hangout? That feels safer.”

“Told ya not to drink so much, but nooooo, you didn’t listen, like a dumbass.”

“I’ll definitely listen next time.” Eijirou rubbed his forehead, the headache fortunately starting to fade. “Do not want a repeat of that.”

Bakugou cocked an eyebrow at him. “You mean you don’t wanna tell me your proposal plans again?”

Eijirou froze where he was moving to uncover his food, and he looked back up at Katsuki. “Huh…?”

Bakugou was trying and failing to fight back a smirk. “Oh, right, you told me to forget you told me that. Not a bad plan though, can’t wait to see it in action. Fall wedding ain’t a bad idea either, and I’m sure my mom would be stoked to make our suits.”

And Bakugou just kept talking about imaginary wedding plans that Eijirou’s had rotating in his head for years at this point, that Bakugou definitely shouldn’t know about, all while Eijirou’s face grew warmer and warmer.

What the hell had he done last night?!

~

Also on AO3, lemme know what you think! :D