mona345

[mona345]

grown men will throw fits about how they face sooo much rejection and women would never get it meanwhile me and the girls who were even just like average or a lil ugly at like 12 years old were being treated like we were subhuman by peers and adults alike

[mona345]

You were just coming to grab a drink, really. But then you saw him… your husband!katsukibakugou

Shirtless. Sweats slung low on his hips. Cooking like it was a damn sport.You stopped. Stared. Regretted nothing.

He didn’t even turn around. Just said, real casual,

“You gonna keep eye-fuckin’ me from the door, or you gonna come touch what’s yours?”

Your throat went dry. He chuckled, dark, low. The sound curled down your spine.

“Oh? My wife’s shy now?”

He finally turned, eyes locked on yours, wicked grin tugging at his mouth.

“Didn’t know watchin’ me stir soup got you all hot.”

You tried to speak. Failed.

He stepped in close, caging you against the counter with heat radiating off his bare skin.

“Say the word, baby. I’ll drop this ladle and spread you out on this countertop. I would rather want you as my meal anyways.”

And hell, he meant it.

Hope u like it luvs.

Give me some ideas what to write next!!

[mona345]

all i do on this app is cry

You on occasion lay down on Bakugo’s chest just to hear his heartbeat.

Been 4 years since the war, and you can still remember the feeling you had when you seen Bakugo’s lifeless body on the field.

You couldn’t reach him, you couldn’t save him, but you seen his chest, the way his eyes slowly dimmed, tears and blood stained his cheeks, you felt a part of yourself die a little as well.

It was a difficult transition to see him from alive to dead to back alive again, you never got around to tell him how you really felt during the time of the war. How exhausted you were, not just physically but emotionally and mentally. How you been going to therapy for the past 2 years, because the nightmares came back.

You never told him about your internal struggles post war, because you felt guilty.

You wasn’t on the line like he and Deku was, but you still played your part, having a few battles of your own to fight and if Bakugo was there to see how you carried yourself he would have been so proud, but that small bit of comparison between you and him made your problems seem so minuscule.

It was silly, but honest.

He’s on the couch now , one arm over his eyes, and the other over his stomach taking a nap, or so you thought. You had another scare while thinking for way too long. That fear bubbling up inside your heart and mind like a cloud before a storm begins you physically try to shake it off, so you go to do what you knew best to help and that was to lie on his chest.

His chest was moving very shallow, his snorts was light as it was being covered by the rain outside the window. He looked so peaceful, you examine his figure , seeing the scars on his body, as well as the big one on his chest.

You approach him slowly, adjusting to climb and squeeze between his legs, he noticed your presence before even moving, he was just waiting for you to make a move and when you finally did he stretched himself out for you to get comfortable.

When your ears reach where his heart is you slowly shut your eyes to concentrate on his heartbeat. The quiet thumping increased slightly when he wrapped his arms around your waist.

It felt so much better now. His scent and sound immediately made your body relax.

You smile a little, weakly, seeing at the calming beats of his pulse soothes you like a heavy wave of water to help you fall asleep.

Bakugo pecked your forehead, a subconscious move he does when you’re near his lips, when he held you it was almost in a way of protection. His arms being a shield from anything around you, the same way he wished to have shield you all those years ago.

[mona345]

OKAY GAG!

"your" fics look ai generated lol... ??? its so obvious too ??

It’s funny how people accuse me of using AI.
Like… I’m literally an English major and an artist.
I’ve been writing since I was 16, and I’ve never needed AI to speak for me.
I love writing. It’s something I care deeply about, not just something I do for clout.
Honestly, I’m so against AI taking over creative work—it makes it harder for real writers to be seen.
So when people say my writing is “too good” or “looks like AI,” I really don’t know if I should be flattered or offended 😭
My mom and sister literally see how long I sit with my laptop, rereading, editing, tweaking every little word.
You want proof? What do you want me to do—write in wrong grammar? Remove my commas, dashes, exclamation marks, and every other punctuation I carefully chose?
Or maybe set up a whole timelapse of myself writing a fic just for you?
(As if I’m about to waste my storage like that for you. Be serious 😭)
At the end of the day, this isn’t just writing to me—it’s a piece of who I am.
And every single word? It’s mine. Always has been.

Please do block me if you don’t like the way I write.

No way I’m letting anyone ruin this cunty little image I’ve worked hard on 😌

[mona345]

"your" fics look ai generated lol... ??? its so obvious too ??

It’s funny how people accuse me of using AI.
Like… I’m literally an English major and an artist.
I’ve been writing since I was 16, and I’ve never needed AI to speak for me.
I love writing. It’s something I care deeply about, not just something I do for clout.
Honestly, I’m so against AI taking over creative work—it makes it harder for real writers to be seen.
So when people say my writing is “too good” or “looks like AI,” I really don’t know if I should be flattered or offended 😭
My mom and sister literally see how long I sit with my laptop, rereading, editing, tweaking every little word.
You want proof? What do you want me to do—write in wrong grammar? Remove my commas, dashes, exclamation marks, and every other punctuation I carefully chose?
Or maybe set up a whole timelapse of myself writing a fic just for you?
(As if I’m about to waste my storage like that for you. Be serious 😭)
At the end of the day, this isn’t just writing to me—it’s a piece of who I am.
And every single word? It’s mine. Always has been.

Please do block me if you don’t like the way I write.

No way I’m letting anyone ruin this cunty little image I’ve worked hard on 😌

[mona345]

"The cat and the Porridge", 1935

Yuri Vasnetsov

[mona345]

PREACH

the existence of black!reader and chubby!reader exposes the fact that the "default" reader is often written to adhere to a specific eurocentric beauty standard

even though it's meant to be a completely neutral figure, so many writers (maybe subconsciously) will sneak in something that implies otherwise

[mona345]

reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts

[mona345]

tired of hiding that i fw this

poor chubby reader thinks that he’d never be into her, thinking that she turns him off when in reality he can hardly hold back from getting hard whenever she’s around. he always has to adjust his pants and lays his cock against his thigh so that she won’t notice how hard he is. he jerks off to the smallest of things that she does like, placing his hand on his thigh, fixing his collar for him and fixing his hair for him. sigh if only she knew how infatuated he actually was with her :(

[mona345]

ུᩧ JJK TWITTER LINKS P3 !

৻ꪆ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .

TOJI FUSHIGURO. ꒱‎

plap plap plap. ⋆ reversed cowgirl. ⋆ penetration + fingering. ⋆ demolishing your pussy. ⋆ exhibitionism. ⋆ pounding you from the back. ⋆ breath play. ⋆ you’re so easy to break. ⋆ riding him.

CHOSO KAMO. ꒱‎

jerking him off while making out. ⋆ choso being affectionate. ⋆ working your hand on him. ⋆ polite roughhousing. ⋆ worshiping you. ⋆ gameplay. ⋆ overstimulation. ⋆ 69ing. ⋆ bdsm.

NANAMI KENTO. ꒱‎

idk but the watch is soooo giving nanami. ⋆ thrusting inside his cute girl. ⋆ sitting on his lap. ⋆ wearing tiny skirts to get him to fuck you. ⋆ touching you. ⋆ what a pretty sight. ⋆ riding him.

GOJO SATORU. ꒱‎

his way of taking care of you. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ rubbing your clit. ⋆ mutual masturbation. ⋆ gojo coded. ⋆ folded missionary. ⋆ grinding yourself on him. ⋆ semi-public. ⋆ spooning you.

GETO SUGURU. ꒱‎

ghostface leaving you brainfucked. ⋆ cnc w ghostface. ⋆ helping you shove a dildo up your hole. ⋆ fingering you while pampering you with kisses. ⋆ fucking you too good. ⋆ bath sex.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. ꒱‎

nasty backshots. ⋆ he only feeds his cock to bimbos. ⋆ taped up cunt. ⋆ bdsm. ⋆ hes so mean when fucking you. ⋆ headlock. ⋆ at his service. ⋆ manhandling. ⋆ pounding you from below.

[mona345]

hello! So far you have made really good post, and it made me think, what if you made one about bakugou x y/n, they JUST started making out and started this thing where after class and even the cafeteria hours they would go to the roof top and make out, and then come back to class and act like nothing ever happened. Also somtimes he would throw a paper and secretly desk her under the desk where they would meet up. 😍

when katsuki wants to make out during class

something soft hit your back, causing some giggles to be heard from around you. you raised your eyebrow, and when mister aizawa faced the chalkboard, you turned around to see nothing. a hand waved in front of your face, kaminari’s hand, to be exact, and his finger then pointed at the ground.

a crumpled-up ball of paper lay on the ground, so you bent over to grab it, opening the paper under your desk. maybe it had something in it. on on page, nothing was there, so you turned it to see the words ‘ask to fill up your water bottle’ with a little explosion drawing at the end, which is how you figured out it was katsuki who wrote the note.

you grinned and raised your hand, throwing the paper into your backpack.

mister aizawa finally turned back to you and asked, “yes?”

“can i please fill up my water bottle?” you held it up and shook it, and when no sloshing around was heard, he nodded.

you picked it up and walked outside the classroom, katsuki soon followed behind after he asked to go to the bathroom. he stomped after you, placing your water bottle next to the fountain before giving you a sly smile and gripping your hip. he shoved his lips onto yours and softly groaned, kissing you repeatedly, strings of saliva still connecting your lips after parting for a short period.

he lifted up your thigh, pressing it against his hip as he continued to kiss you. words haven’t even been spoken yet, but it was clear what the two of you needed.

even after that, he continued to ask you to leave during class or lunch to spend time with you. he didn’t just love you for your body, he didn’t just want pleasure, he wanted you as a person. katsuki knew he wasn’t good at expressing his emotions or love for people in a healthy way, but this was the only way he felt he could do it. it would always leave the two of you breathless, red, and even more in love.

to him, this was one of the most intimate acts someone could do, and he loved you with his whole soul. he never regretted skipping class to make out with you, besides when you heard a loud yell and chuckle from someone across the hall.

an annoyingly familiar voice rang in your ears, “hey, class 1-a! did you know two of your students, bakugo and l/n skip class just to make out in the halls?” monoma loudly chuckled, “class 1-b would never—“

he would always be smacked in the head by kendo, who would apologize and ‘leave the two of you be.’

that was one of the only times katsuki had felt embarrassed after making out with you.

hope you enjoyed this! i’m so happy you love my writing, your compliments mean the world to me. also, i gained around seven asks in one night so im trying to catch up, i apologize that i am not posting as often

[mona345]

TWT PORN LINKS // SMUT‼️| Katsuki x f!reader !! Katsuki’s birthday special | ib: @missdynamighttt <3

“Y’like it when I stroke my cock between your ass like this hm? Fucking freak, should’ve known you’d be into this shit huh? Good fuckin’ girl..“

-

“What do you think you’re doing? You wanna make shit in my kitchen lookin’ like that huh? Lemme fuck that perfect ass while you cook babygirl..”

-

“Fuck.. so messy, good fuckin’ girl.. come on, it’s my birthday, right? Give me a good present my little slut hm?”

-

“God, I love these fucking tits so much, so soft. I just wanna leave marks and bite your pretty nipples.. Y’like that shit huh baby? Let me know you do..make those noises babygirl..”

-

“Mmm.. you’re so soft, you did this f’me? How sweet…let me suck on those sweet tits of yours while you ride my cock..baby girl..”

-

You’re thighs are so pretty, f..fuck..Y’like it when I fuck em’ like this hm baby?.. you’re pretty tits fit right in my hand mama.. fuck im about to cum all over you’re thighs baby, y’ready..mmm?

-

“Baby you’re so beautiful, you like it when I eat you out like this..hm? M’gonna eat you like my last fuckin’ meal babygirl, spread those perfect thighs more sweet girl, I need to taste you better. Y’like when I use my tongue like this y’slut? Speak with words not sounds baby.”

Thank you for reading + watching cuties 💕 Please do not steal, plagiarize my works~ ty baby <3 Happy Birthday Katsuki 🧡 

[mona345]

— now streaming! ✩

body swap quirks are few and far between in today's hero society, mostly manufactured in underground drug rings for nefarious uses. when you and your boss, dynamight, are apprehending one of said quirk users, you're unaware that his touch is what triggers the swap until it's too late.

⟡ content. 18+ mdni! | wc: ~1.2k | tw: none. pro-hero!bakugo x sidekick & secret cam girl fem!reader (mid 20s). reader is a faceless cam girl for extra money. bakugo & reader swap bodies a la freaky friday style. bakugo performs for a charity camgirl stream while in reader's body. asks of consent (no dubcon, both agreed to it!). dirty talk via messaging. mutual masturbation. vague use of toys. left open-ended purposefully. maybe ooc?? idk lol. i sat on this for weeks and feel like i blacked out while writing this in a frenzy today. prompt: "just a little more. you can take a little more, can't you?" wc: ~1.2k 『 light it up like dynamight! event 』

REMINDER: CHARITY STREAM STARTING SOON!

Watching yourself through a small phone screen is not how you envisioned this night to go, especially because it's not technically you — it's your boss.

Shockingly, it didn't take much to convince Bakugo to do you a favor. Well…you are the favor he would be doing, as confusing as it sounds. The two of you settled on one condition — he didn't want you in the room with him while he ‘performed’ as you. And, as expected, to promise not to tell a soul or he'll blow you to smithereens. It was an empty threat, considering he had the fattest crush on you and preferably wants you breathing once this is all over with...if he can muster up the courage to tell you.

NOTIFICATION - GLITTERGIRLS: YOUR STREAM HAS BEGUN!

Oxytocin is such a tempting chemical and it's fucking cruel how easy it is for the human body to produce.

You should've cancelled the stream, said you were sick or dead or some crazy ass excuse, anything to not subject yourself to this delicious torture. Fuck Bakugo for agreeing to this, and for being too goddamn hypnotizing. You can't help but imagine if this is how he'd touch you if he were, well, himself. If he'd use that vibrator on you, a rough finger drawing perfect circles over your clit exactly like he is now.

You're physically unable to tear your eyes away from the screen, a familiar burn in your belly starting to become impossible to ignore. And because you're in his body...

Goal Met - $1k reached! vroomvroom20: you really know how to use that toy alienspacequeenie: yesss girl!! starnstripefan: so vocal. hot af

The notification interrupts your thoughts for a split second. Holy shit, it's working, donations flooding in and the charity progress bar steadily becoming fuller. Your fingers tap on the private chat that's reserved for mods only, a way to chat directly to him without others chiming in. They're auto-deleted post stream, thank god.

glitterbot: gj, keep going

Bakugo slows his ministrations, a clear tell that he's glancing at the chat monitor, even if you can't see his face. You continue typing, reminding him of the ground rules, shaky fingers tapping the screen as fast as possible.

glitterbot: remember, don't say names & stay in frame glitterbot: ur doing great!!

The vibrator slides over your clit on screen, eliciting a way too sexy moan that echoes from the office and mixes with the modulated ones coming from your phone speakers. It's getting harder to breathe, unable to stop yourself from shifting your hips back and forth on the couch cushions, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable.

glitterbot: god, you're so loud... glitterbot: the money is pouring in

You take a breath. Fuck it — when the hell are you ever gonna get this chance again? To know what it feels like to be a man jerking himself off to the sight of your own body? If Bakugo gets to finger and fuck himself in your body, then it's only fair, all things considered.

glitterbot: can...i touch you? glitterbot: uh, i mean 'me' glitterbot: but it's ur body so...say yes or no so i can hear u

It's instant, the sound of a pleading 'yes!' and the sight of your body's thighs twitching sending you into overdrive. You're not thinking straight, literally thinking with your — his? — dick right now.

Goal Met - $5k reached! zaptastic007: she's really into it today crimsonr10t: no kidding phantom_thief: i can see how wet u are, goddamn

Logistics aside, you slip the snug sweatpants down over your hips and to your thighs, his flushed cock now on full display in all of it's glory for you to ogle. The sight alone makes your throat dry, the pretty blush tip sticky with precum and dripping down the shaft. If you could see your irises in a mirror right now, you swear they'd be heart-shaped.

glitterbot: holy shit...ur bigger than i imagined glitterbot: sad i can't suck it instead

Oh god, his eyes must be playing tricks on him or he's way too horny to read the computer screen properly. Are you really dirty talking to him in secret? You're trying to kill him, Bakugo thinks in a lusty haze. He can't speak, not trusting himself to keep your name out of his whiny mouth. The last thing he wants is to dox you and ruin...whatever this is building between you two. He tosses the vibrator out of frame, rolling over to reach for something else off screen.

Bakugo takes the dildo you deemed 'the five star experience' and runs it teasingly over your clit, hips bucking up and lathering it with slick. Watching him prep your body for what's to come has your own hand wrapping around his cock, mindlessly letting your fingers trace along the one vein as if it was your own body.

glitterbot: go ahead, fuck urself for me. stream time's almost up glitterbot: ur doing so good, katsuki. just a little more...u can take a little more, can't u?

That does it, the combination of his given name interlaced with those words break Bakugo's brain in ways he's never experienced. He situates your body and starts to fuck himself with the dildo, slipping in and out of your pussy with ease. Your fingers clench around his shaft, pumping slowly, palm slippery with precum making each stroke like a lightning strike to your core. When you circle your thumb over the tip, it makes you groan out loud, his voice reverbing through the living room. Bakugo must've heard it, picking up speed and sloppily rubbing your clit in messy circles in response.

Goal Met - $10k reached! zaptasic007: oh she's gonna cum soon tapespider87: oh fuck she's not faking it today

The rubber band in your belly is pulled taut, twisting tighter and tighter...and tighter...

glitterbot: i think i'm close...30 sec left glitterbot: make it count, big finish

"Oh fuck," you moan out, Bakugo's voice coming out of your mouth making your head spin out of control. Your voice crescendos through the speaker and office door in surround sound, causing your own orgasm to come crashing down over you. Warm ropes of cum cover your fingers, dripping down to his thighs and sprayed across his lower stomach. Looking down and seeing such a lewd scene on Bakugo's body makes you dizzy, the afterglow of what you did almost enough to knock you out cold.

Goal Met - $15k reached! Congratulations!!! tapespider87: wow, what a photo finish! zaptastic007: see? us pervs can band together for a good cause fiveweenies: fabulous show as always pretty girl

The scene fades to the 'the stream has ended' overlay, successfully ending the video feed to prepare for the next girl's broadcast.

NOTIFICATION - GLITTERGIRLS: YOUR STREAM HAS ENDED!

Exhausted, you close your eyes for a moment, letting your phone drop on to the coffee table and draping a forearm over your face. By the time you open your eyes again, you're suddenly in the office.

The body swap quirk effects must've expired, all of the adrenaline rushing through your systems working it out twice as fast. It's not long before heavy steps approach the office, a surprisingly gentle knock rapping on the door.

"Oi, let me in."

It's a command shadowed in sincerity, something you don't experience often with Bakugo, but welcome with open arms.

"It's open."

It feels like ages, but the door eventually opens, revealing your boss in the doorway, clothes disheveled and one dried stain on the edge of his shirt. The two of you stay silent, daring one another to be the first to break it.

One things for certain...things will never be the same between you two.

— tags: @slayfics @maddietries @starsdesiresz @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @catsoupki @purplescorpi0 @m0nnypie @d1orhaz3 @runrabbitrun3 @thefirst-ofus @kalulakunundrum @fulltragedytheroist @elleoelliot @katsucookies @kirishimaeijiromyman @strwbrrykthv @hayatoseyepatch @awkwardchick87 @unriding @darhinadadragon @pastelle-rabbit @cutiepatoodie @moonlightwriter @katsuslover @rienin @amayaaaxx @Sukunabish @OzDramaQueen @uekarashi @jlynns-posts

[mona345]

— You Look Good Baby

Bakugo x Black! Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is your biggest hype man, and takes more pride in you than he does himself.

TW: Swearing

⇶ When you’re dating the Katsuki Bakugo, rest assured that he will make it his personal mission that you have just as much confidence as him, if not more

⇶ There will simply be no room for insecurities in your relationship when he has enough confidence for the both of you

⇶ Contrary to what most people think, Katsuki holds you in a much higher regard than himself

⇶ If there is anything he worships besides himself, it’s the ground you walk on

⇶ He hardly even calls you by your name, only ever “beautiful,” “gorgeous,” “angel,” “dollface,” and the occasional “sexy.”

⇶ Does nothing but compliment you, even doing so silently, with the way he ogles you making your heart stop in the best way possible

“K, c’mere and look at this dress real quick,” you call out to your husband as you twist to and fro in front of your mirror.

While your boyfriend isn’t the best in his personal clothing choices, or at least he wasn’t before you got together, he’s shockingly the best person to ask for clothing advice.

“Should I return this and just wear my other dress to the party? I don’t like the way it fits me,” you asked him as you spun around to face him.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say the look he gave you was one of disgust.

“The fuck are you talkin’ about? You look incredible,” he snarls.

Spinning you by your waist in the mirror with one hand, he uses his other to make your gaze meet your reflection.

“What’s not to like when you’re so damn perfect, huh?” Katsuki asks, while pressing kisses on your jaw and down to your collarbone.

Between kisses, he tells you everything he loves about how the dress looks on you while his fingers dance in the curls at the base of your neck. How the color makes your skin glow, how it fits your body so well, how you make the dress look good and not the other way around.

You can only whine in response, letting his words combat all the negative thoughts you had before.

“You look good baby, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he assures you, placing one final kiss on your lips.

“Thank you ‘Suki,” you huff in a bated breath.

“Don’t say thank you, say I know.”

⇶ If you didn’t already have a big head before dating Katsuki, you will after.

⇶ If he weren’t your boyfriend, his behavior wouldn’t be something you’d expect from him in a romantic relationship

⇶ Somehow manages to use his massive ego to build yours

⇶ He’ll always take a compliment from you, hell, he takes compliments from anyone, but coming from anyone else he only ever answers with some form of “I know.”

⇶ But when it comes from you, he always flips it back on you

⇶ You call him pretty, but he’ll always remind you that you’re prettier

⇶ You tell him he smells good and he’ll tell you that he’s ready to eat you up

⇶ You like his new shirt, but whatever you have on is better. You could be naked and it’d still be better.

⇶ When you’re dating someone as great as Katsuki Bakugo, it’s hard not to get a big head when you’re somehow always better than the “best person to ever exist,” (his words)

⇶ Shows you off in public, almost parading you around in front of paparazzi and at large events

⇶ And even on the rare instances that you’re not dangling off his arm, the only time he interacts with interviewers is when he gets the chance to talk about you

Katsuki had barely even walked halfway on the red carpet before getting annoyed.

The endless noise of press hounding him with questions, the bright flashes of cameras, and hands that have been god knows where reaching over the barrier, attempting to touch him.

He’s never been one to care much about his public appearances, and eventually stopped caring to answering questions as they almost never interested him.

But there was always a certain topic he couldn’t help but indulge in.

“Dynamight! Y/n hasn’t been with you at your last few events, fans are dying to know— have the two of you split?” An interviewer asked.

The crowd erupted into chatter and gossip at the question. From shocked gasps to fan girls hoping they’re getting their chance, Katsuki could do nothing more than roll his eyes.

As much as he hated to entertain such a nonsensical question, how could he pass up the opportunity to talk about you? And even worse, how could he let them think you were anything less than together?

“Split?” He chuckled. “Far from it. The wife’s at home watchin’, she just wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”

⇶ Regardless of how long you’ve actually been together, you’ve always been and always will be Katsuki’s wife

⇶ He does plan to actually marry you one day, of course, but ever since you first got together you were as good as married

⇶ He’s instilled it so heavily that even the public forgets the two of you aren’t actually married

⇶ You can’t even count the amount of times you’ve seen “Pro Hero Dynamight’s Wife” in headlines to refer to you

⇶ And of course there’s the occasional, ‘Y/n Bakugo’ that will be written into articles as your attribution

⇶ While they often get changed by the publishers for credibility and accuracy purposes, Katsuki can’t help but relish in the thought of the day that you take his last name

“‘Y/n Bakugo Steals Spotlight From Hero Husband Dynamight in Custom Versace Dress at the Annual Hero Gala,’” you read out to Katsuki, who sits next to you on the couch.

“S’not really stealin’ spotlight if it was always on you,” he chimes, looking over to read the headline himself.

“Easy for you to say when you know everyone is there for you,” you said, playfully pouting your glossy lips.

“Yeah right, meanwhile it’s your name plastered on the headline,” he retorted, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Well technically it’s not my name,” you corrected.

Katsuki pulled back from you, as if you’d just slapped him or done something in the highest offense.

“Huh? The fuck do you mean it’s not your name?” He scoffed.

“Well I’m not a Bakugo, Katsuki,” you raised an eyebrow, confused by his defensiveness.

Katsuki kissed his teeth, and sighed in blatant defeat before perking up again.

“Guess we’re gonna have to fix that, huh?” He grinned.

Effortlessly scooping you into his arms, he held you in a tight embrace, making you squeal as a he peppered kisses all over your face and neck.

“I’m just gonna have to put a fuckin’ boulder on your finger, buy you the dress of your dreams, then make sure I get you the wedding of the century, yeah? Can’t have you walkin’ around sayin’ that’s not your name,” he punctuated his words with a suffocating kiss to your mouth, making dramatic and board line gross kissing noises for effect.

“Katsuki Bakugo, you have 5 seconds to put me down ‘fore I put my hands on you!” You laughed, breathlessly pulling away from the kiss.

“Or what, Y/n Bakugo?” Placing a rough kiss to your cheek. “That sounds good doesn’t it? Y/n Bakugo. Wonder how our kids’ names would s—”

“Katsuki!”

⇶ If Katsuki could get paid to take pride in you, he wouldn’t even need to do hero work anymore

—

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[mona345]

whoever invented that "coming to their rival's doorstep beaten and bloodied bc they didnt know where else to go" needs their pussy ate religiously

[mona345]

wow🤩

gaara ⚡️

[mona345]

the subtleties of being in love

summary: kuroo tetsurou is the spider-man. he’s also your best friend. he’s also hopelessly in love with you. between fighting crime and juggling college, kuroo barely has the time to confess his feelings to you. lucky for him, you’ve got him covered. or, five times kuroo tetsurou tries to ask you out, and one time you ask him out instead.

⇢ pairing: spider-man!kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader ⇢ contains: fluff, mild angst, best friends to lovers au, spider-man au, college au, debatable attempts at comedy, idiots to idiots in love, 5+1 things, profanity, mentions of violence but nothing graphic—please let me know if i’ve missed anything! ⇢ word count: 5.0k

ONE — THE SUBTLE ART OF SWINGING INTO A WALL

Kuroo Tetsurou swears he isn’t trying to be stupid. 

It’s just that when he sees you, his mouth dries up, the words he want to say get stuck on the tip of his tongue and he can’t force them out no matter what, he feels his brain turn to mush and his legs turn to jelly, and—

You’re laughing. At him.

All because he swung face-first into a goddamn brick wall.

You don’t even know it’s him—he has a mask made out of spandex covering his face, thankfully—but he saw you on the street, talking to the old lady who sells churros next to the sandwich place both of you love. He may have lost all directional sense after that, because one minute he’s watching you gesture animatedly while you converse with the shopkeeper, and the next he slams solidly into the brick-red compound of the building he was supposed to swing over.

At least his webbing is still intact.

Kuroo’s pride, on the other hand? Completely, utterly shattered.

For a minute, there’s silence—a sort of muffled, hazy silence that blankets everyone, the kind that’s impossibly rare to come by in a city which never sleeps—and then every single person whips out their phones and takes pictures, giggling to themselves throughout. It’s not every day Spider-Man accidentally swings into a wall, after all.

Kuroo can already picture the headlines: City’s Masked Superhero Can Fight Aliens But Is Apparently Blind When Confronted By A Gigantic Barricade. Or worse. He can hear J. Jonah Jameson’s voice in his head, bellowing into the cameras, “Breaking news everyone, this just in: Spidey has been caught lackin’! Is he truly good at his job or is he just a farce? We may never know.”

He peels his head off hard brick, contorting his neck to relieve all the cricks, and that’s when he makes direct eye contact with you.

He swears his heart stops beating—but it starts again in less than a second, starts rabbiting around like it always does when he sees you, before settling back down into its regular rhythm. It’s only then that he remembers his feet and fingers are still glued to the wall.

He pries them off, wincing at the hoots and hollers from the crowd, and glances at you again. 

You have a few churros in your hand, wrapped neatly in butter paper—no doubt a gift from the old lady—and you have your phone in your hand. He watches your fingers fly rapidly over the screen, notices the slight tilt to your head, the way your tongue pokes out of your lips slightly, the amusement at his mishap still running through your veins.

He hears the ping of the notification through his mask before you even put your phone down. 

The letters swim in front of his eyes, on the screen in front of him.

(11:36) You: KUROO!!!! u wont BELIEVE what i just saw!!!! I SAW SPIDERMAN CRASH INTO A WALL LMFAOOOO

Kuroo winces. He should probably tell you that there’s a hyphen separating the words ‘spider’ and ‘man’, but he doesn’t want to burst your obvious elation at the city’s most prominent superhero’s accident. (Despite the fact that you’re the cause for him losing all common sense, in the first place.)

He doesn’t get the chance to form another coherent thought before a yell from below gets his attention. Specifically because it’s your voice.

“Hey!” You have your hands placed on your waist, your bundle of churros tucked into the corner of your arm as you squint up at him. “Need some help getting down?”

Unlike the jeers of the onlookers with their phones still out, you don’t sound malicious at all. You sound genuinely concerned, as though he isn’t Spider-Man, who’s fought off a hundred different villains and rescued the earth from alien infestations. You talk to him like he’s just a regular guy who accidentally swung onto a building and now finds himself in this precarious position.

His chest warms at the thought. “No thanks!” he hollers back. “I’m good.”

He lets his feet loosen up, feels his muscles relax and then he pushes himself off the wall, letting the momentum pull him through a graceful somersault before he lands softly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” You ignore the passersby.

“I’m fine,” Kuroo replies. “Are you okay?”

You look at him strangely, and Kuroo can feel his cheeks heat up. “I’m not the one who almost broke my nose because I wasn’t looking at where I was going.”

Kuroo shifts from one foot to the other, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You have a point, he supposes. He clears his throat. “Right, um. Thanks for offering to help me out.”

“No problem,” you reply easily, the corners of your lips rising upwards. “I’m glad you’re okay. Can’t have our city’s best line of defence get obliterated because of a wall.”

Kuroo’s not sure whether he’s supposed to feel happy about the fact that you’re worried about him despite not knowing who he is or if he’s supposed to be embarrassed at you pointing out his lapse of attention.

“Listen,” he begins, feeling a rush of adrenaline surge through his veins, run its course throughout his body, and settle at his heart, “do you… maybe want to get some coffee with me? As a thank you. For offering to help.”

You raise an eyebrow sceptically. “I’m not sure that warrants a coffee date.”

“It’s not,” Kuroo hurriedly says, heart thumping erratically, “I swear. I just want to thank you.”

You purse your lips, drawing out a sigh that’s in between contemplation and refusal. Kuroo’s heart sinks—he knows that expression of yours all too well. “I’m sorry, Spider-Man. You’re a great superhero and I’m sure you’re a really nice person behind the mask, but… I’m actually running late for a meet-up with my best friend. I’m sorry.” You shrug apologetically. “Maybe next time.”

“Okay, uh—” Kuroo licks his lips— “n-no worries. I’ll see you around.”

“Break a leg, Spider-Man.” You salute him with two fingers. “Not literally, but you know what I mean.”

He manages a smile, then realises you can’t see it through his mask—and then realises that the friend who’s meet-up you’re running late to is with him, so he’s going to see you again, anyway. The thought makes him smile again, this time wider, and he can feel his cheeks crinkle at the corners.

He stretches an arm out, presses his web shooter and swings onto the top of the building. Maybe he’ll have to deal with you retelling the story of how he crashed into a wall with extreme detail and lots of exaggeration, and Kuroo should probably feel extremely embarrassed about it. Instead, he finds himself looking forward to it.

Maybe he should crash into walls more often.

TWO — THE SUBTLE ART OF ACCIDENTALLY ASKING YOUR PROFESSOR OUT

Kuroo Tetsurou is decidedly fucked.

He’s late—unbearably so—but what else is he supposed to do if a platoon of aliens show up in the middle of his Introduction to Organic Chemistry class and he has to stop them from blowing up the president’s summer retreat? Once the situation is wrapped up and the foreign visitors agree to sign a peace treaty with earth, he’s effectively missed three classes, skipped lunch, and is currently running late to a study session you planned out after classes.

He supposes he can make up for it—he’s not sure how, but… something is better than nothing, right? He swings down in front of a flower shop, hurriedly asks for a bouquet and a box of chocolates, places a wad of money bills on the counter and swings away. The whole interaction takes place in less than fifteen minutes, but Kuroo is in a hurry. He has a slew of texts from you, all detailing the same thing: That if he doesn’t magically appear in the next ten minutes, you’re leaving, and you better make it up to him somehow.

Kuroo touches down on the rooftop of your university’s library and quickly removes his Spider-Man suit, stuffing it into his backpack and shouldering it. He heads down the fire escape, taking two steps at a time, and comes to a standstill in front of the Biology section of the library. It’s the least crowded part of the library, which is why you and Kuroo have chosen it as your designated spot.

He sees you immediately and braces himself for the telltale quickening of his heart. You smile at him as soon as you spot him, raising a hand in greeting. Books and sheets of paper are scattered around the table in front of you, and your hair is messy, swept up hastily. You’re wearing your favourite sweater with the coffee stain down the front, because even though it’s not something you would wear in public, it’s still the most comfortable piece of clothing you own.

Kuroo’s lips curl upwards on their own accord. The words form on the tip of his tongue, as they always do. He wants to tell you—he’s been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you—and it would be so easy to confess right then and there. He walks towards you.

Fate is never kind to him, it seems.

Kuroo keeps his eyes fixed on you, which is why he doesn’t notice his Organic Chemistry professor walk right across him.

In his defence, Professor Suzuki is short, with a head full of bountiful grey curls and a pink flower-patterned umbrella always tucked underneath her arm. She barely comes up to Kuroo’s shoulders, so she’s never in Kuroo’s line of vision unless he’s sitting down.

It’s no wonder he collides into her. 

Professor Suzuki lets out a startled “Ooh!”, the stack of papers in her hand flying out of her grip and falling around him and his teacher like snowflakes on a winter morning. She twists her lips at him, mouth downturned like she just sucked a lemon raw, and tuts disapprovingly at him.

Kuroo feels his cheeks blaze as he bends down and gathers all the loose sheets of paper and stacks them. He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re gleefully watching the whole encounter. He tucks the bouquet and chocolates into the crook of his arm and hands the stack of papers to Professor Suzuki, mumbling an apology.

“Well, you better be sorry,” she says, looking up and down at him—except she has to crane her neck at him to meet his eyes, and the sight is so hilarious, Kuroo needs to stifle his laughter. Then her eyes narrow in recognition, and Kuroo stiffens, dread pooling in his stomach. 

She pauses for a minute. “Aren’t you the young man who ran out halfway through my class? Is your stomach feeling better now?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you snort and then cover it up as a cough. 

Kuroo wants to melt into the floor, pretend like he’s one of the tiles on the ground. “Yes ma’am,” he answers politely instead, hoping his voice doesn’t betray him.

“Hmm.” She scrutinises him carefully, reaching out with her free hand and pinching his stomach. “Indigestion is a serious issue, young man. Make sure you have enough ginger in your diet—it helps with your toilet problems.”

“I will, ma’am.”

“Now, how do you plan to make up for your lost lesson?” 

Kuroo licks his lips. “I’m… not sure. I could come over for a remedial class—”

“Oh, please. You insult me.” Professor Suzuki lets out a giggle. “Remedial classes are such mediaeval methods. These days teachers will let anything go for a small price. Young, handsome men like you especially…”

Kuroo nearly chokes on his own spit. “I—”

“Just some flowers and chocolates will be fine,” his teacher waves him off good-naturedly, as though this is a conversation she has all the time. Her eyes land pointedly on the flowers and the chocolate box still tucked safely in his arms. 

“Oh. Um.” Kuroo curses his luck. He’s Spider-Man, after all—shouldn’t he get some slack? All he wants is to ask you out, and if not that, at least spend some time with you without getting caught up in outworldly situations all the time. 

Professor Suzuki’s expression turns serious upon noticing his hesitation. “Of course, not every teacher is as lenient as I’m being. Some would—and I’m really just throwing it out here—assign compensatory essays, or—”

He hurriedly shoves the bouquet and the chocolates into Professor Suzuki’s waiting arms. 

“No, ma’am. Thank you very much for being so kind to me.”

“Not a bother, not a bother,” she waves him off again, smiling thinly at him. “Anything for my students.”

Kuroo bows and waits patiently for her to skitter away from him, finally letting out a loose breath that has his shoulders slumping forward and his head hanging dejectedly. He drags himself to your table, places his bag on the desk, and buries his head into his arms in such a way that half his upper body is spread-eagled across the wooden desk. A tired, muffled groan escapes his lips.

“Rough day?” Your voice is soft, and you tentatively reach out and gently run a hand through his hair.

Kuroo lets out another groan in response, closing his eyes when he feels your touch. He lifts up his head and props his chin on the desk, glancing at you. You have a soft smile playing on your lips, eyes twinkling.

“You recorded all of that, didn’t you?” It’s more a statement than a question; Kuroo has all your tendencies mapped out in his head, and you would never pass up on an opportunity to record his humiliation.

“Yup.” You grin at him, patting your pocket where your phone is stowed away. “I won’t show it to anyone, don’t worry.”

It’s a small consolation. He decides to let it slide. “By the way, the flowers and the chocolates were for you. To apologise for being late.”

“Oh.” To Kuroo’s surprise, you sound… bashful, almost. His heart skitters at the revelation. “That’s alright. I’m not a big fan of flowers anyway. Are you hungry? You skipped lunch, too, didn’t you? We could go get some ramen.”

“That sounds good.” Kuroo smiles wearily at you. He just hopes there isn’t another national emergency to divert his attention from you and the time he gets to spend with you.

THREE — THE SUBTLE ART OF ALMOST DATING YOUR HOMIE

If Kuroo Tetsurou has been Tokyo’s one and only Spider-Man for the past two years, then Bokuto Koutarou, his roommate, is his designated Guy-in-the-Chair.

He’s the only one who knows about Kuroo’s secret identity, and Kuroo relies on him to make up some believable reason for his often and sudden disappearances. The last time, when he had to escape in the middle of his Organic Chemistry class and that whole debacle with Professor Suzuki took place, Bokuto had said Kuroo had indigestion. He assumes his roommate has fun coming up with excuses. As long as his secret remains safe, Kuroo’s not too concerned.

Despite all the help Bokuto has provided him with, he wants nothing more than to toss him over their shared apartment’s balcony.

For the past half an hour, he’s been consistently badgering him. Specifically about you.

“Have you told her you like her yet?”

The question drags a tired sigh out of Kuroo’s lips. He’s hunched over his Physics textbook, scribbling down notes, and he could really appreciate some peace—but that’s not something he should expect when he lives with the human equivalent of a hamster on a wheel.

“No, Bokuto,” he reiterates, “I haven’t had the time.”

Bokuto flops dramatically across the couch. “Dude. You need serious help.”

“Do I?” Kuroo murmurs absent-mindedly, wondering how to calculate the coefficient of friction with the variables he’s been given.

“Yes.” When he notices his roommate not paying attention to him, Bokuto rolls his eyes. “Stop doing homework, you have more important matters to attend to.”

Kuroo finally tears his tired gaze away from the numericals printed out on the page. He locks eyes with Bokuto, barely aware of the tic in his left eye. “Like what?”

His roommate throws his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Like your best friend! And the fact that you’re in love with her!”

“Okay.”

“This isn’t going to work. C’mere.” He gestures to Kuroo to come sit next to him on the couch. Once he makes his way to the couch and sits next to him, Bokuto takes both his hands in his. “Consider this an intervention.”

Kuroo leans back and lets his head fall against the couch cushions. This is going to be good.

“Okay, so,” Bokuto begins, “she doesn’t know you’re Spider-Man—no one knows that except me—but you love her, don’t you? Just walk up to her, tell her you can show her something she’s never seen before, swing her up to a rooftop somewhere, and watch the sunset with her. Tell her you love her and that you can’t live without her, and your heart beats only for her—trust me, girls love romantic stuff like that—and then tell her you’re also Spider-Man. Easy.”

All Kuroo can do is laugh. There’s no way Bokuto is serious about this.

“I’m being serious,” Bokuto says. “How long are you going to keep hiding this from her? She’s your best friend, don’t you think you should tell her that you’re basically in mortal peril every other day?”

“That’s exactly why I’m not telling her,” Kuroo says. “What if some villain finds out she’s special to me and does something to her to get back at me?”

His friend looks dubious. “You really think that could happen?”

“Yes.” Kuroo turns his head to look at Bokuto. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you either.”

Bokuto chews his lip thoughtfully. “I kind of see what you mean. But…” He squeezes Kuroo’s hand once, gently. “I think she would want to know.”

Kuroo considers it—for a brief half-minute, he actually thinks about it—and then shakes his head. “It’s better to keep her safe.”

You have the worst possible timing. (Perhaps it’s Kuroo’s fault for having given you a spare key to his apartment.)

The door swings open and you walk into the living room, two bags of takeaway in your hand. “Guess who’s got food!”

Then you pause, survey the situation in front of you, and your jaw drops.

Kuroo and Bokuto, both on the couch, sitting so close to each other, their knees are brushing. Kuroo’s hands are still being held by Bokuto, the latter rubbing circles on his palm. Belatedly, Kuroo realises what this must look like to you.

He shoots up to his feet. “It’s not what you think—”

“Oh my God.” You raise your arms. “Am I interrupting something? I’m so sorry, I had no idea! I’ll just—”

“No, wait! Bokuto and I, we’re not—”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Your repeated reassurances don’t do anything to assure him. “You guys look good together! Congratulations on graduating from cherry boy university, Kuroo!”

Kuroo lowers his head, crimson creeping up his cheeks. He turns around and faces Bokuto, who’s busy snickering on the couch. “This is all your fault.”

You look between them curiously. “Are you both dating?”

“No,” Kuroo says at the same time Bokuto says, “Possibly.”

He glares at his friend. “No, we are not together. Bokuto knows I like someone else.”

“You like someone else?”

There’s the barest hint of hurt in your tone, a slight hitch in your voice that Kuroo picks up on easily. “I—yes.”

“You never told me.” 

Your voice is carefully calm and you fiddle with the handle of the takeaway bags. Kuroo winces; he takes a step forward and grabs your elbow, gently forcing you to look up at him. “I was going to tell you. I just… forgot.”

It's the worst possible excuse he could come up with. Your eyes harden. Thankfully, Bokuto swoops in. “He’ll tell you soon. He just never has good timing.”

You poke your tongue in the inside of your cheek. “It… doesn’t matter. I brought Chinese,” you say, lips pursed into a threadbare smile, “so all that’s left is to pick the movie.”

You move into the living room and playfully poke Bokuto’s legs to make space. Kuroo closes the door behind you, a heavy feeling in his gut.

He’s fucked up. Big time. No matter what, he can’t get the look of dejectedness on your face out of his mind.

Kuroo decides he’s going to tell you. Somehow. Even if you don’t return his feelings, at least he’ll be free of the burden of keeping them hidden. 

With new conviction in his head, he strides over to where you are.

FOUR — THE SUBTLE ART OF GETTING HIT ON

Kuroo loves you—he really does—but despite his obvious affection towards you, he still thinks you’re acting slightly (read: extremely) delusional.

“A… Spider-Man love blog?” he asks weakly, sitting opposite you.

“Yeah!” You nod your head vigorously, obviously excited. “J. Jonah Jameson started a Spider-Man conspiracy theory blog, so I figured I need to start a blog to support Spider-Man and all his endeavours. Too much hate is a bad thing, and… well, he is kind of hot. Objectively speaking.”

Kuroo doesn’t know whether to grimace at the fact that J. Jonah Jameson started a page on conspiracy theories about him, laugh at the fact that you want to start a blog to support him, or melt like an ice cream on a hot summer afternoon at the fact that you just called him objectively hot.

He tries to do a mixture of all three. You glance at him, concerned. “Did you just have a stroke or something?”

Kuroo purses his lips together. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” you say dismissively. “Well, what do you think of the blog idea?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Kuroo agrees. “It’s like a little Spider-Man support group.”

“Exactly!” you agree, perking up even more. “That’s actually a really cool slogan, thanks Kuroo.”

“No problem.” Kuroo feels his mouth dry, but before he can second guess himself, he says, “Hey, you said Spider-Man is hot?”

“Hm? Yeah, what about it?”

“You know who else is hot?”

“Tom Holland?” Your eyes widen excitedly. “Oh, I know! Andrew Garfield!”

“No—I mean, yes but—” Kuroo heaves out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t talking about them.”

You cock your head to the side. “Who do you mean, then?”

He takes in a deep breath, forcing his heart to calm down. “I was talking about—”

He’s about to say you when the fire alarm rings. You stand up, eyes widening—not with excitement, but with panic flaring up inside you. Kuroo stands up too; how did he not notice something was off? The hair at the back of his neck tingles. He needs to get you out of here—now.

“Hey,” he says hurriedly, “you need to leave. Go out the fire escape.” He shoves you none too gently towards the fire escape, but you stumble forward and then stop.

“Kuroo,” you say, and he can hear the mounting fear in your voice, “what about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he assures. A series of bangs follows his statement, and he narrows his eyes at the direction of the sound. “But you need to leave. Now.”

You open your mouth to say something, but when you hear a loud clang echo down the stairwell, you close your mouth and run towards the staircase. Kuroo waits for you to disappear from his sight, before turning on his heel and grabbing his suit from his bag.

God, supervillains really have the worst timing. All Kuroo wanted to do was tell you he thought you were hot, too, but that he found you more beautiful than anything else.

FIVE — THE SUBTLE ART OF EXPOSING YOUR CRUSH

Kuroo is so, so tired.

He lands in front of a small, quiet lake in a park you used to come to with him. The ambience is perfect for when you want to spend time alone, in solitude. A family of ducks paddles gently over the water; it’s peaceful and serene—completely unlike the destruction he just had to deal with, and the turbulence currently running through his mind.

He pulls his mask off his head and runs a tired hand through his hair. Wearily, he sinks down onto the grass, feeling the cool breeze caress his skin and the rustle of the leaves of the giant tree under whose shade he’s sitting.

He blinks once, slowly, and then again, and when a duck lets out a quack, he opens his mouth and lets everything spill out, like sand pouring through an overturned hourglass.

(He’s aware he’s talking to ducks. He doesn’t care.)

“Screw this shit. I never wanted to be a hero, you hear me? I never wanted to be bitten by a stupid spider, I didn’t ask for all this—I didn’t ask for all this! God, what does a guy need to do to have some time to tell his best friend he’s in love with her?!”

His rant falls on silent ears—but then, he hears the crunch of dried leaves, and he whips around.

Your head pokes out from behind the tree trunk. “Kuroo?”

“Oh,” he breathes out, scrambling to his feet. “What are you—”

“You said you’d be right behind me!” Despite the false bravado in your voice, he can hear how wobbly you actually sound.

“I-I was. Technically.” He takes a tentative step towards you, one arm stretched out placatingly.

“You never told me you were Spider-Man!” Your voice increases in pitch steadily with each word.

“I didn’t tell you to protect you—”

“Oh my God, you were in mortal peril every day and I didn’t even know!”

“Bokuto said the same thing, but—”

“Bokuto knew all along, of course he did!”

“I only told him because—”

“And—and now you’re telling me you’re in love with me!”

“Okay, I wasn’t telling you, I was telling the ducks, but—”

“Kuroo!” You throw your hands up in the air wildly, gaze roaming rapidly across his face. “You’re in love with me!”

He sucks in a breath sharply. “I feel like that’s not the most important thing here.”

Of all the ways he thought he would confess to you, this is decidedly not something that crossed his mind even once. He’d always pictured flowers, holding your hand, maybe even a romantic stroll down this very park. He’d certainly never imagined you’d find out about both his secrets on the same day—all while he was busy ranting about his hero complex to a bunch of birds who didn’t pay him any attention.

“Please,” he tries again, “please let me explain.”

You shake your head. “No. There’s nothing there to explain.”

With that, you turn away and walk past him. Kuroo’s heart sinks. He crumples the material of the mask in his hand, feeling the cloth twist underneath his fingertips just like his heart twists into knots with every step you take away from him.

PLUS ONE — THE SUBTLE ART OF KISSING YOUR BEST FRIEND

You have Kuroo cornered, your arms crossed across your chest and your expression stern. “You need to listen to me.”

Kuroo gulps. It’s been a week since he accidentally let both his secrets slip, and this is the first time he’s talking to you in person since then. You’d sent him a text with a simple message. Library, first thing after lunch. Kuroo had complied, and here he is now.

“So. Bokuto explained everything to me,” you say. 

“He—he did?”

You glance at him shortly. “Yeah, he did. I… I understand why you didn’t tell me about—about your condition, Kuroo. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself.”

“It’s okay,” he replies immediately. “If I found out my best friend was a secret vigilante risking his life every day, I think I’d react the same way.”

You smile at him then, and his heart jumps inside his chest. He smiles back. “But that’s not the main reason I called you here,” you continue. “What I really called you here for was…”

You trail off, looking down, and Kuroo is hit with a sudden sense of nostalgia. Why are you being so bashful around him all of a sudden? “Was…” he gently prompts.

You swallow, lifting up your chin and looking him in the eye. “I wanted to tell you that I’m in love with you too.”

Kuroo Tetsurou swears time stops, and the whole world comes to a standstill. The words ring in his ears, echoing inside his head. His lips part, and he stares at you, flabbergasted.

“I— Say that again.” His voice is barely more than a whisper.

He sees the flicker in your eyes, notices how you’re ready to compete with him for this. “I love you, Kuroo Tetsurou. I don’t care about the fact that you’re Spider-Man.”

Kuroo takes a step towards you, holding your shoulders gently, like you’re made of glass. “I love you too.”

You grin at him, your own arms encircling his waist and coming to rest on his back. “I know that.”

And then you tip your head forward and capture his lips with your own. He gasps at first, before kissing you back with equal force, one hand tugging you closer to him and the other curving around your torso.

You giggle into the kiss, and Kuroo’s lips twitch upwards. He’s giddy, weightless, floating through the air like a feather being carried by the wind. The feeling he gets when he’s swooping through the rooftops of the city is nothing compared to the feeling of your lips slotted against his and his arms wrapped around you.

Kuroo Tetsurou swears he doesn’t try to act stupid normally. But if it makes you smile, he’s willing to do anything.