#BNHA X Reader

[sttm99]

Minors DNI

For the first time in all his life, Katsuki Bakugo looks at someone and wholeheartedly wants to fuck them.

Not to be confused with 'fucking them up'. No. He doesn't want violence, no exchange of fists and blows, and the desire to tousle and bruise an annoying face.

Bakugo looks at you sitting on the sofa directly opposite the TV in the dorm living room, sitting back with Mina by your side as you two hog the remote to watch some stupid, overly dramatic show. And cannot get rid of the inexplicable need to fuck you.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, looking closely at the places he'd want his lips to touch; yours, your jaw, your throat, your chest, your thighs... it doesn't end.

It's unfamiliar, nasty, deep in his stomach, stirring, a low pulsing at his loins that make his sweats feel a tiny bit tighter. Bakugo tries to focus on chopping up the vegetables for the curry he wants to make. But his mouth is dry, and he can feel his hands getting sweaty.

He drops the knife just to be safe and makes up an excuse to go to his room for a moment. Bakugo takes deep breaths, trying to stop the salacious images of your bare breasts - not that he's ever seen it, but he's got a faint picture from the outline of them from your shirt - and how your moans would sound.

Would your moans be high-pitched like the girls in the porn he caught Denki watching one day? Would it be deep, low and guttural, like how your grunts are during training? Bakugo harshly pushes the elevator button and waits, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he imagines the different positions he'd like you in.

He steps in when the doors open, mind switching from how your ass would look in doggy, to how hot it would be if he fucked you opposite a mirror. And just as he can just barely make out your expression in the reflection-

"Hey, hold the elevator please!"

- He pushes the button in reflex before he looks up to see you hurrying over to him with a grateful expression on your face. He wishes he had just pretended like he didn't hear you, wishes he'd let the doors shut to avoid this horrible situation he's found himself in.

The object of his obscene daydreaming is standing just meters away in the little elevator. God, you're pretty. You press the button to your floor as you step on, and he averts his eyes from your ass just as you turn around to walk over to the other end.

Bakugo stands at one corner, and you stand at the opposite. It pisses him off.

You two aren't even close. He's not sure he's ever had a proper one on one conversation with you, so why does he want you in his bed so badly?

[sakuraszn]

﹒♡ CURRENT BOYFRIEND CHALLENGE

ft. katsuki bakugo

“Hey, can I record something real quick?”

Bakugo’s sprawled on the couch, hair still damp from his shower, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and a spoon halfway to his mouth. He eyes you suspiciously over his bowl of spicy noodles.

“Tch. The hell are you planning?”

“Nothing bad,” you say, sliding into the seat beside him with your phone already recording. “Just a little TikTok thing. You don’t have to do anything. Just… exist.”

He grunts. That’s as close to “fine” as you’ll get from him.

You point the camera at yourself, making sure he’s in frame behind you. “Okay,” you begin sweetly, “so I’m here with my current boyfriend…”

Bakugo pauses mid-bite.

His head slowly turns. “…Your what?”

You bite your lip, fighting a smile, still filming. “My current boyfriend.”

The look on his face and the meanest side eye says you have three seconds to explain before I level this apartment.

He sets the bowl down without breaking eye contact. “Current?”

“Mhm,” you say, leaning into the act. “You know, just until I find someone better.”

You don’t even get a full breath in before he’s on you — not aggressively, but fast, almost knocking the wind out of you. He grabs your phone and points the camera straight at himself.

“The fuck does that mean, current?” he growls, eyes sharp but his voice low. “There ain’t gonna be a next boyfriend. You think this is some temp job or somethin’? You think someone else can handle you like I can?”

You snort-laugh, but your face is heating up.

“Aww katsu’ You’re cute when you’re possessive.”

“I’m always possessive,” he snaps, tossing your phone gently onto the couch and crowding you until your back hits the cushions. “Say that ‘current’ shit again. Go on.”

You lift your chin, pretending to stay cocky. “My current boyfriend—”

He kisses you. Hard. One hand gripping your waist, the other braced by your head. When he pulls back, your brain is static and your lips are tingling.

“Say it again,” he says against your mouth, voice husky. “I dare you.”

You blink up at him, dazed. “I… might need to start calling you my forever boyfriend.”

A smug, dangerous smirk stretches across his face. “Damn right you do.”

He kisses you again, slower this time. Hungrier.

Somewhere, your phone keeps recording.

2025 © SAKURASZN !

[rosereveries]

bakugou always has your lip gloss—just in case.

𖦹 content. k.bakugou x fem!reader. fluff

You were halfway through class when you suddenly noticed—your lip gloss was missing. Probably left it on the bathroom sink again.

You sighed, annoyed, quietly digging through your bag for a backup. Nothing.

Before you could say anything, Bakugou dropped something small onto your desk.

You looked up, confused.

“It’s your lip gloss,” he said, sounding way too chill for someone holding your favorite shade. “Don’t ask why I have it.”

You stared at him.

“Since when do you carry my lip gloss?”

He shrugged, avoiding your eyes. “I dunno. Figured you might need it.”

You raised an eyebrow but smiled. It was kind of like him to think ahead, even if he acted like it was a pain.

From then on, whenever you forgot your gloss, you just knew Bakugou would have a spare waiting. No big deal.

Except it kind of was.

Because only Bakugou would carry your lip gloss… and not make a fuss about it.

©rosereveries

[2cupids]

fwb!bakugo is the only guy that’s made you cum from penetration alone. mdni (17+).

one minute some broken sentence is leaving your mouth about how he’s too deep, and the next you’re seeing colors as your pussy squeezes tightly around him.

katsuki slows down, hand still pressed against your lower tummy to feel the outline of his cock, as he watches you with a crooked grin. his already inflated ego growing bigger.

nearly a minute has passed and your walls are still pulsating with satisfaction around his thick dick. he almost grunts, but he quickly covers it by grumbling about how it’ll take more than that to make him cum this quick.

the after shocks of your orgasm are still flowing deeply through your body and katsuki never stops fucking you through it, not even once. crimson eyes stay glued to the blissful expression on your face, waiting for the moment he can resume his bruising rhythm again.

the second you give him the go ahead, his hips are bucking into yours—just like before—propelling your body forward on the bed.

“what were you bitchin’ about again?” he chuckles. his curved dick and brushes over your gspot again and draws another moan from you.

“doesn’t matter. if i hear you open that pretty mouth again and you’re not telling me how much you love this dick?” he growls. “i’ll fuck that attitude outta you. have you beggin’ me to stop ‘cause this pussy can’t handle it.”

your blood runs even hotter than before with increased arousal from his words. a warm hand glides up your body, grazing your breast in the process before he takes your chin between his fingers.

“that’s a promise.”

[luviisabella]

Clingy Bakugou who after your incident with a villain (you were in the hospital for three days) he’s now made it his primary mission to never take his eyes off of you.

You’re going out with friends ? He’s parked outside in case you want to leave or in case someone looks suspicious.

You want to do groceries ? He either offers to do them for you or goes with you. Either way you’re not lifting a finger.

It’s sweet but sometimes you think he may be pushing himself.. you’re a bit worried about him.

-> 🌙

You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you look over at your alarm clock.

[2:37am]

It was a Friday and thanks to the university being under construction you guys had a week off.

You were about to get up until you realized Bakugou had his arms wrapped around you.

You tried slowly moving but he just pulled you further in.

You let out a soft sigh, accepting you wouldn’t be able to get out easily but your eyes immediately widened when you saw the tear that strolled down katsuki’s face.

He hugged you a little tighter. Mumbling something under his breath that was almost incoherent.

“M’ sorry..”

And your heart sunk.. you realized he’s been blaming himself for your injury. While you’ve recovered it seems like he felt it was his fault for not being there to protect you. You don’t blame him, you never did. You went back to save the little boy and have no regret in doing so.

You’re still you but it seems like Bakugou is afraid he’ll lose that.

So just for tonight..

You let him hold you like this, not trying to escape.

You let him hold you tight.. and you assure him you’re not going anywhere and it was never his fault.

He’s so scared of losing the only thing that’s brought him peace.

Don’t let him go.

poor katsuki..

made by @luviisabella 🎀

[yukioos]

thinking about cuddling with todoroki and sleeping on different sides of his chest every other night if it was too cold or too hot

and him noticing it one late evening and just finding it to be subtly cute and goes to hold his lover closer to his chest before pressing a soft kiss on the forehead and going back to sleep with a small smile on his face ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

laying on different sides of shoto’s chest depending on the temperature

shoto has always hated his left side with a passion, as it somehow resembled his father, he grew to hate it more with every passing second he used his power. he seemed to hate it less, however, when it was a particularly colder day.

lately, when the two of you have been sleeping together, you’ve been putting your head on the left side of his chest, making sure you were mostly cuddling only that side when it was cold. sometimes, he’d wake up with blankets all over the place because you got too overheated just from his body heat, although it was freezing the night before.

on the other hand, when it was during the summer and hot, you would switch positions and cuddle with him on his right side, which was colder. sometimes, when the temperature was just right, you would whine and switch positions often, not receiving a good night’s sleep.

but shoto noticed all of this quickly in the relationship, as he was an observer. he didn’t quite understand why you did what you did, switching positions and all that on random days, without a pattern.

though late at night, the two of you lay in his bed when you grabbed an extra blanket and draped it over your bodies, wanting the extra warmth. you cuddled into his left side and wrapped your arm around his waist, and he paused.

did you stay on his left side when you were cold?

when the realization settled in, he sighed at himself for not noticing sooner. it made complete sense now. plus, when you were in a good mood, it was because of the good temperature, but that would change at night when you have to switch positions often. when the heat was scorching, and you took multiple showers throughout the day to wipe yourself off the stink and sweat on your body, you tended to sleep on his right side for the coldness.

he softly smiled and put his hand on your head, rubbing it softly, emitting a soft sigh from you. he bent down a bit to give a small kiss on your forehead, hoping to ease you to sleep. his body became a bit warmer, flushed, and smiling at how your cute habit.

after that night, shoto always wished for the next day to be an extreme temperature, so you two could cuddle and get a good night’s sleep for the next day.

aaaa hope you liked this

[missdynamighttt]

i am NOT done yapping about how in love husband! katsuki is with his dear wife.

you were curled up on the couch later that night, katsuki’s arm draped around your shoulders while you scrolled through twitter again. he was half-asleep, head tilted back against the cushions, soft breaths leaving his lips.

just as you were about to close the app, another tweet popped up on your feed— one that made you freeze.

original tweet: "yeah babe gimme a minute, js fighting crime rn"

underneath was a blurry, mid-action shot of katsuki during a recent mission. in one hand, his phone was visible, screen lit up, while his other hand was mid-explosion, sending a villain flying backward.

the kicker? he was grinning at his phone. not his usual battle-hungry, determined smirk. no, this was softer. goofy. a full-blown, lovesick idiot smile.

the kind of smile he only ever gave you.

"oh my god. katsuki," you whispered, shaking his arm. "wake up."

he groaned, cracking one eye open. "what now?"

you shoved the phone in his face. "explain."

he squinted at the screen, brow furrowing. his jaw immediately clenched when he recognized himself in the picture.

meanwhile, twitter had already decided:

- "hero of the year goes to dynamight for texting his wife while fighting crime."

- "bro’s out here fighting for his life and still prioritizing his girl. goals."

- "im jealous. getting a text back while he's FIGHTING VILLAINS IS CRAZYYY"

his mouth opened. closed. then he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. "shit. didn't think they got that on camera."

"you didn’t think holding your phone in the middle of a fight would get caught on camera?"

"i was multitaskin'!" his ears were bright red.

"oh, for fuck's sake," you huffed, half-frustrated, half-melting into a puddle of affection. "is this why you said 'one sec babe, busy' that one time like you were busy with, oh, i don't know, paperwork instead of fighting a damn villain?"

"i had it under control," he grumbled, running a hand over his face. "was just checkin’ in on you."

"checking in?" you echoed, laughing. "you were literally detonating someone with your other hand!"

he groaned. "s’not my fault. needed to text my girl. s'not a crime."

your heart stuttered. "while fighting villains?"

"yeah, well...ya texted first."

you blinked. "so this is my fault?"

"yeah," he crossed his arms, cheeks turning pink. "maybe if ya didn’t make me smile like a fuckin’ idiot, i wouldn’t get caught slackin’. you seemed excited over something... figured you'd wanna talk."

your heart stopped for a second, warmth flooding through you.

"you’re such a dumbass," you said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. you leaned up, wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling into him. "missed me that much, huh?"

he huffed but didn’t stop you, his arms tightened around you, his embarrassment giving way to quiet satisfaction. "yeah, yeah. always miss you."

and the next time you texted him during work, you made damn sure to add:

"don't text back. fight the damn villains first."

he didn’t listen, obviously.

"they can wait. they know my wife is important."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[kurooh]

keigo is unapologetically a whore when it comes to sending you voice notes. it’s a surprise every damn time—it could be the middle of the day, and you’ll press play, expecting a rant about something, only to for his pretty groans to reverberate through the earbuds.

your jaw drops, and a low heat begins to simmer in your stomach. after you’ve quickly scanned the area to make sure nobody’s around, you crank up the volume to the max and restart the note.

“god, fuuuck,” he moans, the word trembling on his lips, and it is just too easy to picture him right now. in your mind’s eye, you can see him leaning against a wall on the very top of a tall building, flushed cock in hand while he tries his hardest not to drop his phone. “i need you, baby. i need to bend you over right now and give you this dick.”

keigo shudders, and you can hear the ruffle of his agitated feathers in the background. his breaths come in both hot and heavy, crackling through the phone between each pinched gasp or moan.

“i - i know you’re gonna say i’m being dramatic, but god, you have no ideaaa,” each slick pump of his hand on his cock brings less relief than it is meant to, and you notice the frustration making its way through his dirty talk. “i can’t focus. all i’m able to think about is—nghhh, shit—is how goddamn pretty you look when you’re fucking me back.”

keigo takes a moment to drag in a shaky inhale, his nose whistling softly as he does so. your thighs squeeze together tightly, arousal pooling sticky and wet between them. just like he had intended, you’re hanging off every word, nearly sick with desire as you wait for more.

you think of him throwing his head back in that certain way that he does when he nearly sobs out your name, sounding broken and debauched all at once. god, he’s so damn shameless, sending you shit like this while he’s on patrol and you’re somewhere across the city. it’s hard to complain, though, with the way he spoils you—you almost begin to wonder what you did to deserve a four minute audio jam packed with noise.

“oh, oh fuck,” keigo whines, sounding like he’s nibbling at his chain, a nervous habit of his, “christ. you—you gotta tell me where you are, angel. i can’t handle this anymore, i really can’t.”

not far from the speaker, his feathers flick and shuffle, sounding more uncontrolled than before. “ughhh, i just wish you could see what you do to me. i’m crazy for you and sometimes it’s like you don’t even know it.”

he goes on to say something else, but it’s too crackly and muffled to understand. you shift in your seat, feeling hot all over—you’ve seen what you do to him, and is it a sight.

keigo’s cheeks always flush a rosy color, and when his body is tangled up with yours, it’s impossible for him to even attempt to mask his emotions. breaking down his daytime defenses and making a mess of him is satisfying in a way that is impossible to stop craving. on the other side of the phone, he probably looks even better than you could even imagine—golden and flushed in the afternoon sun, chain between his teeth, expression crumbling into one of absolute bliss.

you can hear the change in his breathing pattern, the way it becomes more stuttered and gasping, and you know your favorite part of the audio is coming soon. literally.

“—so close, i’m so fucking close,” a litany of moans spill out of his mouth, each one softer than the last. “all i want you to do is come here and take what’s yours, angel . . hah, i’m gonna cum—shit, ‘m gonna cum for you.”

you’ve got stars in your eyes as you mentally cheer him on, feeling your own arousal swell and rise in your chest like a tidal wave. thanks to keigo, you’re all hot and bothered in a café.

keigo falls apart just as a barista passes you with a coffee in hand, and you ride the high along with him. he sounds nothing short of beautiful as his groans dissolve into overstimulated gasps of your name and various pet names.

he chuckles, quaking with sensitivity. “there’s so much. if you were here, you might’ve choked,” he sighs dreamily, starry-eyed. “i’ve combed through this district and the next one over twice already. send me your location, angel.”

there’s some static and shuffling before you hear him shaking his wings out to get them ready for flying. “we’ve got plenty of time, if you’re fine with not being able to walk after. maybe i can drop you off at the house and we can take a quick shower there too.”

[rueclfer]

and then if you love me maybe a secret relationship office worker type deal with keigo <3333 (you do NAWT have to indulge me with this i just had two separate ideas for my two mains <3)

well duh ofc i do have to indulge u bc i love you <3

office worker!keigo // job fair

event m.list

[lokissweater]

miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!”

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever

[xoxojisu]

CRASHOUT CENTRAL!

synopsis: katsuki has no idea if you like him or not

notes: bubbly + affectionate reader. umm implied hetero girl i think? but could also apply to not hetero i have no idea im sorry im just writing. idk if men crashout the way girls do but i like to think so. a lot of excessive unnecessary swearing bc it's katsuki. this is so ooc bc lets be fr when does katsuki talk abt *puke* feelings

he’s pacing.

shirtless. agitated. hair all mussed from his own frustrated hands.

kirishima’s lying on his bed with his hands behind his head, watching his best friend spiral for what has to be the third time this week.

“she said i smelled good,” katsuki huffs, whirling around. “who says that? who just..! says that to someone?”

“people who think you smell good?” kirishima offers helpfully.

katsuki glares at him like he’s the dumbest person alive. “she said it while huggin' me. and she said it in that sweet fuckin' singsongy voice.”

“right.”

“and then laughed when i didn’t say anything back. all fuckin' giggly and stupid.”

“you like when she’s giggly and stupid,” kirishima points out.

katsuki makes a noise in his throat. “not when i’m trying to figure out if she’s in love with me or just likes everyone.”

kirishima hums. “well. she is kind of a naturally affectionate person.”

“exactly!” katsuki snaps, flinging his arms out. “what if i’m just one of her little fuckin'.. plushies she likes huggin' or some shit? what if she’s going around being all sweet and smiley with everyone and i’m here thinking she wants to marry me? like, seriously. i've seen her cuddle with fuckin' pinky and round cheeks too, and she's always so.. giggly! and when i think she's flirting, she says it so fuckin' casual. like it's nothing. and i must be fuckin' delusional to think that it's anything more.”

kirishima snorts. “well, ashido and uraraka are both girls. and she doesn’t cuddle me the way she cuddles you.”

katsuki freezes.

“…you think?”

“bro, she lies on top of you like you’re a mattress. more than that, she like really curls in to you. no one does that platonically. that's just not a thing.”

katsuki makes another miserable groaning sound and throws himself down into the beanbag chair like he’s been wounded. he drags his hands down his face, muffling a scream into his palms.

“i don’t know anymore,” he mutters. “she calls me ‘kats’ like it’s just a nickname but then she’ll say it in that soft fuckin' voice like it’s something else. she’s always touching me and smiling and calling me cute but she does it so casually, like it’s just her being her. i don’t know what’s real. i don’t know if i’m hallucinating. i think i’m losing my goddamn mind. like, it's the tone. she goes all 'aweee, thanks kats!' in that stupid fuckin' sing-songy tone. i hate it! fucking..!” kirishima has no idea what katsuki's trying to punch to death. the air, maybe?

after watching him flop around like a dying fish for a moment, he offered gently, “why don’t you just ask her how she feels?”

katsuki sits up. furious.

he says nothing, but kirishima can tell what he's trying to say just from his look.

“well then,” kirishima shrugs. “guess you’ll just have to keep suffering.”

and katsuki does. every time you brush your fingers over his knuckles or play with his hoodie strings or grin at him from across the room with that stupid sweet look in your eyes, he suffers. quietly. dramatically.

because he wants you to mean it so badly.

but he has no idea if you do.

masterlist

[aryaryxoxo]

Six Times You and Bakugou Were Forced Together — and the One Time He Chose To Be. #katsuki bakugou x fem!reader ⤷ After six chaotic summers of ruining each other’s vacations, you thought you were finally free. But the joke’s on you—because now you’re classmates. Same school. Same dorms. Same explosive rivalry. Turns out, the universe didn’t get tired of the drama. It just leveled it up. (7.7k)

Warning: I KNOW THAT BAKUGOU’S KIDNAPPING IS THE REASON WHY UA IMPLEMENT DORMS FOR THEIR STUDENTS BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THIS FANFIC AND MY SANITY WE AREN’T FOLLOWING THAT TIMELINE. FHAJFHSKFJKAFJS TRUST ME OKE FJAJFJAJD THIS IS A PART 2, you can read this as a standalone but some parts need context ajksndajndasa miscommunication at its finest? pls dont hate me ;-; Bakugou being a stubborn bitc-

1st - Being seated right next to each other

Mother always said she and Father were soulmates. The red string theory—proof of destiny. They met when they were young, but one had to move away. Gran and Pops believed America was better for their family.

Mother and Father were devastated. But despite the miles and differences—culture, time zones, even oceans—they found their way back to each other.

So, if someone asked you if you believed in soulmates? You’d say yes.

But a soulmate for love? Hah. Absolutely not. Soulmate of hate? Yes. And his name is Bakugou Katsuki.

Well… last year, something changed. You actually wanted to see him again. You wanted to race him to the pool, ride the waterslide until you both threw up, fight over snacks, and maybe—just maybe—see if that tension between you meant anything more than glares and name-calling.

But then there was the emergency. Your quirk flared, something went wrong, and you landed in the hospital. Three weeks confined. The doctors ordered full rest and observation. 

Mother and father are worried, they ordered no flying, no training, and definitely no UA.

You had to summon every ounce of strength—and stubbornness—to convince your parents to let you go to Japan. You fought. There was yelling. Crying. Accusations. But in the end, you won. Barely. 

Still, through all of it, you kept thinking about him. Bakugou.

Did he wait for you at the pool? Did he wonder why you never showed up?

If only your pride wasn’t as tall as Mount Fuji. If only you had taken the number his mom offered you. You could’ve sent one text. Just one.

But you didn’t.

Now here you are. Standing in front of Class 1-A. “…You can sit next to Bakugou Katsuki, since you already know each other,” Mr. Aizawa said, his eyes barely flicking toward you.

And just like that, twenty pairs of eyes pinned you as you walked toward the blond boy sitting near the window, arms crossed.

He didn’t say a word. Just watched as you pulled out your chair and sat beside him.

Mr. Aizawa immediately launched into the course expectations. But you couldn’t focus—not when the person you wanted to talk to was a solid wall of silence right next to you.

When the bell rang, the quiet filled room suddenly burst into conversation, getting to know each other and such. 

“OMG, how’s life in America?” a bright voice asked. You turned to see a pink-skinned girl grinning at you like you were already best friends. Two girls silently followed her from behind. 

You smiled politely. “Hot. Crowded. But okay, for the most part.”

“Sorry—I didn’t catch your names earlier,” you added, stifling a yawn. “I’m sorry if I arrive late. I just landed last night. Jet lag’s killing me.”

“You should rest first before throwing yourself into hero school,” said the calmer girl with black hair. “I’m Momo. That’s Mina, and Jirou.” She pointed between them.

You gave them a grateful smile. “Nice to meet you all.” But something shifted behind you. You could feel it. From the corner of your eye, you saw him—Bakugou—heading toward the door.

Your heart leapt before your pride could stop it. “Bakugou, wait!”

You followed him out into the hall. “Bakugou, you damn well know I’ll follow you even to hell,” you snapped, panting slightly, steps quickening until you caught up and blocked his path.

He halted. Hands in his pockets, hair messy as always, eyes unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” you said, breathless. “I’m sorry I made you wait. I didn’t mean to just disappear on you. There was something that happened—”

“I don’t care,” he cut in flatly.

Your words caught in your throat. Something cracked in you.

“…What?” you asked, voice trembling.

“I said I don’t care,” he repeated. “Now get the hell out of my face.”

It shattered something else. What the hell were those moments between you, then? Him comforting you when you panicked after getting lost in the woods? His quiet, genuine smile when he finally went down that stupid tall slide and you are there, waiting at the bottom?

You thought they meant something. But this was Bakugou. Of course they didn’t.

He stepped around you like you were nothing.

“Asshole!” you shouted, eyes burning.

“I know,” he muttered without turning back.

Yeah. Soulmate of hate. And that soulmate of hate just became your seatmate.

2nd - dorms are right next to each other

"Mom, I told you, I’m fine. I can unpack by myself. You don’t need to come all the way here just to help me organize my socks," you huffed, balancing your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you pushed open your dorm room door.

Your mother’s voice crackled on the other end, dramatic as ever. "I know, dear, but your father and I were thinking maybe we could help carry a few boxes... maybe set up your shelves, help you pick curtains—"

"Mother," you interrupted firmly, dragging a suitcase in with your free hand. "I’m here to become a pro-hero. If I can’t even move into a dorm on my own, what kind of hero would that make me?"

There was a pause. Then— "Oh my baby is growing up!" she wailed.

You sighed and let your forehead fall against the doorframe. “Okay, I love you, but I’m hanging up now.”

“Take pictures!” she shouted just before you ended the call.

You flopped onto your bed, face buried in the pillow, only to groan when you realized you hadn’t even opened the other suitcase. You sat up and—

SLAM

The door next to yours opened with a signature kind of violence you’d recognize in your sleep.

You froze.

Slowly—very slowly—you turned your head.

Sure enough, there he was.

Bakugou Katsuki.

You groaned into your pillow for the second time that hour. “No. Don’t tell me this is like the resort thing where you thought my room was yours.”

Bakugou, standing in your doorway like the world personally offended him, crossed his arms. “That wasn’t my fault. The receptionist gave me the wrong key,” he snapped, tone clipped. “And second—this is my room.”

You didn’t move. “You’re funny”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

You peeled yourself off the bed, grabbed your phone, and opened the email Mr. Aizawa had sent a few days ago.

“Mr. Aizawa said I’m in Room 401,” you said with confidence, scrolling quickly. “See? Right here. ‘Room 401.’ Boom.”

Still holding your phone, you stepped outside the room, ready to prove him wrong and compare the email to the number hanging next to the door.

But you froze.

There it was—right in front of you, nailed to the wall in bold, silver lettering:

Room 402.

“…Oh.” Your voice came out a little too small.

You turned your head to look at Bakugou, your pride deflating.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t yell. He just stepped into his room and dropped his stuff unceremoniously onto the bed, like he hadn’t just watched you dig your own grave in real time.

Good thing you hadn’t unpacked yet.

You quietly backed out of the wrong room, dignity dragging behind you as you made your way next door.

You muttered under your breath, “This doesn’t count as me admitting I’m wrong.”

No answer. 

You shut your door and stared at the wall that now separated your room from his.

Oh yeah. This was gonna be great. Not only was Bakugou your seatmate—he was also your dorm neighbor.

If this was the universe’s idea of a joke, it was a really cruel one.

…

Bakugou couldn’t sleep.

He tossed and turned, the blanket tangling around his legs like it was trying to suffocate him. He growled under his breath, flung the covers off, and sat up with a frustrated sigh.

This is so damn stupid, he thought, rubbing a hand down his face.

Giving up entirely on the idea of rest, he slipped out of bed and stepped onto the narrow balcony connected to his dorm. The night air was cool against his skin, a quiet contrast to the firestorm in his head.

Above him, the stars spilled across the sky like someone had cracked open the universe.

He stood there, arms resting against the railing, jaw clenched tight. He tried to think of anything else. School. Training. Tomorrow’s lesson. But his mind betrayed him—because it kept circling back to you.

To your face when you saw him again. To the way your voice cracked when you said sorry.  To the silence he gave you in return.

He knew he was a dick for ignoring you. He knew it.

But seeing you again, after you didn’t show up when you said you would… it made his heart twist in a way he didn’t know how to deal with.

I need sleep, he muttered to himself.

He was about to turn and go back inside when movement caught the corner of his eye.

He froze.

Just a few feet away—on the balcony next to his—you were there too. Barefoot, arms leaning on your own railing, eyes lifted to the stars like they had secrets you were trying to unravel.

You looked so peaceful. So lost in thought. So… you.

And you hadn’t noticed him yet.

Bakugou stood there quietly, gaze locked on you, and for a moment—just a brief, silent second—he let his guard down.

Damn it, he thought.

Because no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, there was still something about you that pulled him in like gravity.

Bakugou reentered his dorm room, jaw tight, ready to sleep off the mess of thoughts spinning in his head. But then—he stopped. Something was sitting in the corner of his bed.

That stupid plushie.

Mr. Strawberry.

He stared at it for a moment, lips twitching in annoyance. Of course. Of course it ended up here. He could think of a million ways to get rid of it—toss it out the window, set it on fire, blast it into space. And yet… the first thing that came to mind was you.

How your eyes lit up when you held it. The way you hugged it like it held the entire world.

Bakugou groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Dumbass bear…”

Grumbling under his breath, he picked it up and marched out of his room. The hallway was quiet, moonlight slipping through the windows. He stopped in front of your door, hesitating just a second, before gently setting Mr. Strawberry down.

Not knocking. Not saying a word.

Just leaving it there for you to find.

3rd - somehow paired up for kitchen duty

“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Mina asked casually, plopping down beside you at the dinner table, carrying a glass of water. 

You froze, spoon midair. Of course she’d ask. Someone had to.

It’s been a month since you transferred to U.A.

A month since you finally stepped into your dream school you’ve fought so hard for. And a month since you saw Bakugou again.  A month of him not saying a single word to you.

Despite sitting beside each other in class. Despite living one wall apart in the dorms. Despite brushing shoulders in the hallway, cafeteria, and training grounds.

It was strange. Uncanny, even.

Because every year during vacation, you’d see him. Like clockwork. You’d fight, race, dare each other to do stupid things by the pool. There was always something. Even last year—even when you didn’t show up—your thoughts still clung to him like chlorine on your skin. And when you saw each other again, in school of all places, you thought maybe… maybe something would’ve stayed. Would’ve meant something.

But now, you two were stuck in the same school for the next three years, and it was quiet. Too quiet.

You didn’t want to admit how bitter it felt. Didn’t want to acknowledge the tight knot in your chest every time he ignored you. Because he didn’t deserve your hurt. He was an asshole. Plain and simple.

You tried to explain yourself back then. You tried to say sorry and he just shut you down.

And the worst part? You still cared.

“Uh…” you finally responded, blinking out of your thoughts. “Nothing. There’s nothing between me and Bakugou.”

Mina raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of tension for nothing, girl.”

You forced a smile and took a bite of your porkchop. “Must be the air.”

“Okay, everyone!”

Tenya Iida, ever the earnest and booming class president, stood up from his seat, effectively cutting off your conversation with Mina.

Thank god.

You were grateful for the interruption. You needed any kind of distraction. Preferably one that didn’t involve Mina asking more questions about a certain blonde explosion boy.

“I have consulted Mr. Aizawa,” Iida announced, adjusting his glasses with dramatic flair, “and in the spirit of cooperation, balance, and fairness—we have concluded that there must be a sense of shared responsibility in this dorm!”

There were a few groans from the class. 

“Therefore!” he declared. “Every day, there will be two pairs of students responsible for breakfast and dinner. Since we all have lunch provided at school, this will ensure a consistent meal schedule and reinforce teamwork!”

He held up a neatly folded list like it was the Holy Grail.

“I have already assigned these pairs, and I will now read them aloud in the order of rotation.”

Mina leaned toward you and whispered, “Watch me get paired with Sero and burn the kitchen down.”

You smiled a little, just as Iida started rattling off names.

“Kirishima and Kaminari! You two are first.”

“Aw yeah!” Kaminari fist-pumped. “Let’s make curry for breakfast!”

“Tokoyami and Shoji. Second.”

“…Understood,” Tokoyami said, mysteriously.

You zoned out a bit as the list went on, your attention drifting, until—

“Bakugou Katsuki and [Your Name]. You two will be the fourth pair. Thursday.”

You snapped back to reality so fast you almost dropped your spoon.

You turned your head slowly—and of course, he was already looking at you from across the room, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.

Great. Cooking. Together. In a kitchen. For everyone. With knives.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Excuse me?” you raised your hand slowly. “How long are we paired up for breakfast and dinner?”

Iida didn’t miss a beat. “Until next term.”

You stared.

“Until… next term?” you repeated, voice rising half a pitch.

Iida smiled, utterly unaware of the quiet panic blooming behind your eyes. “Correct! I believe consistency will help build better cooperation and minimize confusion. That is the goal, after all!”

You sat down in slow motion, hands flat on the table.

From across the room, you could feel the weight of Bakugou’s stare, hot and heavy and already annoyed.

What could possibly go wrong?

(Everything. The answer was everything.)

…

Thursday came. Oh, how the days had flown by—fast, merciless, and leading you straight into doom.

You were enjoying the last shred of peace you’d know before the battle came storming in.

It was 6 a.m. The sky was still yawning. Your soul is already crying. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, hyping yourself up like you were about to face a villain instead of eggs and toast.

You took a deep breath, left your dorm, and stepped into the elevator. When the doors slid open to the communal kitchen floor—you saw him.

Already there. Already prepping. Already ignoring your entire existence.

He had the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up (which you totally didn’t find it hot, totally), a pan already sizzling, and that signature why-are-you-breathing-in-my-space scowl planted firmly on his face.

Of course he didn’t consult you about what to make. Why would he?

It’s not like this was a pair assignment or anything. Or not like communication was key to teamwork. Nope.

You walked in and cleared your throat.

He didn’t even look at you.

“Good morning to you too, Gordon Ramsay,” you muttered.

“What?” he barked, barely glancing your way.

“Nothing. Just admiring how we apparently live in your kitchen now.”

“Tch. Just don’t get in my way.”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the fridge. If he wanted to act like he was running a five-star restaurant, fine. You’d start prepping the side dishes. At least someone had to make sure the toast didn’t turn into charcoal.

He didn't thank you. You didn't expect him to.

But as the smell of breakfast filled the dorm and the sun peeked over the horizon—you both moved around each other, wordlessly in sync.

It was annoying. How natural it felt. You hated it. (You didn’t.)

You were setting the table, carefully arranging plates, utensils, and the food you helped finish (even if he barely acknowledged your existence during it). The scent of grilled fish and rice was comforting, and for a moment, you almost forgot you were cooking with Bakugou.

Almost.

You turned around to grab the napkins—

—and walked straight into him.

“Ah—!” you yelped, recoiling as the side of the miso soup pot brushed your arm.

It didn’t spill—thank god—but the heat still licked your skin.

Bakugou barely flinched. His reflexes were too sharp, too quick. He gripped the pot tighter, steadying it before it could tip.

“Dumbass,” he muttered sharply. “Watch where you’re going.”

You hissed through your teeth, shaking your arm. “I did—I didn’t know you were right behind me! You didn’t announce you were carrying—who the hell carries boiling soup around like that?!”

He glared. “People who actually do something instead of pretending to be useful.”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

He moved past you, setting the soup down roughly on the table.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered under your breath—but loud enough.

“I heard that.”

“Good.”

Your arm was still stinging a little, but you didn’t let him see it. He didn’t apologize. Of course he didn’t.

But when everyone started filtering in for breakfast—complimenting the food and surprised it wasn’t a complete disaster—you noticed something odd.

Bakugou didn’t sit down right away. He hovered in the kitchen a bit longer.

Then, when he finally took his seat, he slid something across the table toward you without a word.

A small pack of burn ointment.

You blinked.

He didn’t look at you. He just shoved rice in his mouth like nothing happened.

You stared at the ointment. Then at him. Then back down.

Maybe, just maybe, this day was successful.

4th - you and Bakugou both end up in detention

You’re not a violent person. Really, you aren’t.

You bow to elders. You pour their tea with both hands like your mother taught you. You accept when you’re wrong. You apologize when you make a mistake. You don’t raise your voice. You don’t raise your hand.

...Well. That’s a lie. A small one. With two very specific exceptions.

First, there was the time a certain blonde menace with a god complex and an anger issue decided it was perfectly acceptable to grip your beloved stuffed toy—Mr. Strawberry—by the neck like he was squeezing the life out of it.

You had warned him. You had politely asked, "Give him back". Bakugou didn’t listen. So you launched yourself at him, tackling him like a linebacker.

Second, and more importantly, was the reason you were now in detention.

To be fair—you warned that guy too. The random jerk from Class 1-C or whatever, who thought it was funny to call Mina names. Said she looked like a clown with skin problems. Said she was a “failed science experiment.” Then he turned on you. Called you “transfer trash” and said Bakugou must be so unlucky to be stuck with you all the time.

You gave him three warnings. Then you gave him a fist to the eye and a knee to the groin.

"Again, Mr. Aizawa," you said with your hands folded like a model student, "I only hurt him twice. One in the eye. One in the manhood. That’s all."

Mr. Aizawa didn’t blink. "Then explain to me," he deadpanned, "why he's in Recovery Girl with a broken nose and fractured wrists?"

Your eyes widened, scandalized. "I said I didn’t do that!" you yelled at your teacher.

Okay. Maybe a third exception.

But before you could argue back—really argue back—the door burst open.

And in walked your first exception.

Bakugou Katsuki, looking just as pissed off as you were. Maybe more. Jaw tight, shoulders tense.

He didn’t say a word. Just marched over to the unoccupied chair beside you and dropped into it.

Mr. Aizawa barely lifted an eyebrow. "What did you do this time, Bakugou?"

Before Bakugou could answer, Snipe entered, striding in like he just finished dealing with a forest fire. "Not only did he arrive late for my class, he also kept provoking everyone. Ignored direct orders. Nearly set off an explosion indoors," Snipe rattled off with the tone of someone who's been through this many times before. "That's a third strike. I'm formally requesting detention."

Bakugou scoffed, arms crossed. "They were talking shit first."

"And you decided to answer with grenades," Snipe shot back, dry.

Mr. Aizawa sighed the sigh of a man who regretted all his life choices. "Great," he muttered. "Just what I needed." Then he looked at both of you. "You two. Same time. Same place. One week of detention."

You blinked. "Together?!"

Bakugou snapped his head toward you. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You glared. "Serving justice with a side of righteous fury."

"Sounds like assault," he muttered.

"Sounds like shut up," you snapped back.

Mr. Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. "If either of you speaks again, I’m extending it to two weeks."

Silence.

You leaned back in your chair, arms folded. Bakugou mirrored you—same posture, same scowl.

Yeah. This was gonna be fun.

…

“Mr. Aizawa, what are we even doing here?” you groaned, dragging your feet behind him like a ghost with sore legs. “I literally can’t feel my arms from training. Pretty sure my spleen filed a complaint.”

Aizawa didn’t look back. “Because,” he said flatly, “you two are going to clean up the mess you made earlier.”

You blinked. “What mess—” Oh. Right. You and Bakugou managed to destroy four punching dummies and one reinforced wall panel during your totally accidental sparring match-turned-world-war.

(Okay. Maybe you threw the first kick. Maybe Bakugou exploded it.)

You glanced at Bakugou, who had the audacity to look proud.

“I need this entire training room spotless by tonight,” Aizawa said, stopping at the entrance of Gym Gamma. He turned to you both, his voice level but threatening. “Floors scrubbed, gear cleaned, the storage shelves reorganized. And no fighting. If I hear so much as a grunt, it’s another week.”

Then he walked off like the drama king he was.

You turned to Bakugou. He turned to you.

And at the same time, you both muttered, “This is your fault.”

Some time later, you were off in your own little corner of hell, surrounded by dust and mess. Boxes were scattered all over the training room, and for some reason, it had become your job to stack and organize them—because Bakugou was somewhere else, doing god knows what, probably blowing something up.

You huffed and wiped your forehead. Your arms were jelly, your legs were shaking, but your pride? Still intact. So you grabbed another box. Heavy as hell. Probably filled with gym weights or metal, because of course, your luck sucks.

You staggered forward, muscles screaming, vision blurring slightly from exhaustion.

Almost there.

Almost—And then your arms gave out.

Crash.

The box came down hard—slamming against your shoulder, the edge smacking into your cheekbone on the way down. You hit the floor with a thud, breath knocked from your lungs.

“Shit,” you hissed, clutching your face as your eyes watered. You weren’t sure what hurt more—your pride or the throbbing burn spreading across your cheek.

Footsteps thundered behind you. “Oi—what the hell was that?” Bakugou’s voice rang out, sharp and angry. But when he turned the corner and saw you crumpled on the ground, his expression shifted for a split second—just long enough for concern to flash in his eyes before the scowl came back twice as strong.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered, crouching beside you. “You could’ve brained yourself, dumbass.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, trying to sit up.

“Yeah, sure. Tell that to your face.” He reached out before you could argue and tilted your chin slightly, inspecting the red, already-swelling mark on your cheek. His hand was rough but careful, thumb grazing your skin like it might crack if he pressed too hard.

You blinked at him, stunned. Was he... worried?

He stood, brushing the dust off his pants, and stomped away.

You expected him not to come back.

It made sense, didn’t it? After all, you were the one who never showed up that day. You were the one who made him wait. If he left you here now, it would’ve been fair. Predictable, even.

So when the familiar sound of his boots returned just seconds later, your head snapped up in surprise.

He dropped to one knee beside you again, avoiding eye contact as he shoved a cold pack into your hands.

“Next time, don’t be stupid,” he muttered.

You stared at him. The cold pack in your hand. The way he wouldn’t look at you.

“…You came back.”

His jaw tightened. His eyes flicked toward you for a second—just a second—then looked away like he’d been burned.

“Shut up,” he said.

But he didn’t leave. He just sat there, beside you, legs stretched out on the floor, arms crossed.

The air between you was fragile. Like something about to break. All the bitterness, all the tension — it hung between you like a string pulled taut.

You wanted to speak up. To explain. To finally say why you didn’t show up at the resort that day.

“I didn’t—” you started, your voice soft. “That day, I—”

But before the words could fully leave your lips—

“I thought I was going to see you two for another week,” came Mr. Aizawa’s dry voice as he appeared behind you, arms crossed. You and Bakugou jolted slightly at his sudden arrival.

“Looks like I was wrong,” Aizawa continued, raising a brow. “One busted cheek, zero broken furniture. That’s progress. Go see Recovery Girl.”

He turned, already walking away. “Detention’s over. Try not to destroy anything or someone else.”

You looked down at the cold pack still pressed to your face, then over at Bakugou.

He was already looking at you. And this time, he didn’t look away.

5th - you and Bakugou were to compete against each other during the sports festival

"Now that’s an explosion if I’ve ever seen one!" Present Mic’s voice echoed through the roaring stadium. The crowd was electric—but none of it mattered to you. Not right now.

You needed an entrance. And fast.

It was the U.A. Sports Festival. The entire school had been preparing for this moment, training endlessly. But if you were being honest with yourself, you were more prepared than most.

Because for you, this wasn’t just about school spirit. This was a declaration.

A chance to prove—to the world, but especially to your parents—that you deserved to be a pro-hero.

That you were enough.

You could still hear their words, sharp and unyielding, echoing in the back of your mind. “You’re not cut out for this.” “You’ll just get hurt.” “You’re not like the others.”

You clenched your fists, forcing those memories down, locking them away. Not today.

Another explosion cracked across the field. The stadium shook. Your heart did too.

Of course, it had to be him.

Out of everyone you could face in the finals… it had to be Bakugou Katsuki.

You’d scraped past Todoroki in the semis—a narrow victory, but a victory nonetheless. You earned your place here.

But now you stood across from Bakugou, the embodiment of raw power and intensity. And he looked like he was ready to burn down the sky. He was charging toward you like a storm, feet pounding against the arena floor, eyes locked on you with that explosive determination only Bakugou could wear. 

You were near the edge of the line, counting silently—one, two—calculating every breath, every beat.  If you timed this just right… And you did. Just before he could strike, you twisted your body out of reach with perfect precision, grabbed his arm mid-motion, and used his own momentum against him. 

You shoved him toward the edge, and for the first time, he hesitated. You saw it in his eyes—the sharp realization that he was cornered. You raised your arm, ready for the final blow that would win you the match. 

But then it hit—that memory so vivid it stole the air from your lungs. You were at the dinner table, the scent of your mother’s cooking curling in the air, laughter echoing, your dad teasing you over a too-full bowl of rice. 

It was warm, familiar—too familiar. Then, suddenly, the laughter faded. The food soured in your mouth. Your skin began to burn, your body overwhelmed from the inside out. Your quirk spiraled out of control. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. 

And in the present, right there in the arena, you felt that same terrifying flare building in your chest. Panic clawed at your throat—this was bad. One blow and you could hurt him—really hurt him. And the thought of that—of hurting him—made something inside you shatter. 

So you did the only thing you could. You turned and ran. You ran from the edge, from the crowd, from your victory. You ran from Bakugou—because you couldn’t lose control. Not with him standing that close.

…

Bakugou was pissed—no, furious. What the hell was that? One second you had him cornered, about to land the finishing blow, and the next… you ran. Straight out of the arena. It didn’t even feel like a win—more like a slap in the face. 

The moment the match ended and they declared him the victor by default, his blood started to boil. He didn’t want a win like that. He wanted a real fight, a real answer. So he stormed down the hallway, heading straight for the changing area where he knew you’d be. 

His footsteps echoed sharply off the walls, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat, erratic with frustration. But just as he rounded the corner, he heard it—someone from another class, laughing too loud, too smug. 

“She ran because she was a pussy,” the idiot sneered. That was the final straw. 

“You!” Bakugou barked, voice slicing through the air like a grenade going off. The kid froze. “She made it to the finals, and you couldn’t even get past the first challenge. So shut the fuck up.” He didn’t even wait for a response. 

The student stood frozen, confused and stunned, as Bakugou shoved past, storming toward the changing room with every intention of getting answers—from you.

He kicked open the door with a force that made the whole room shake, and there you were—sitting silently, staring straight ahead like you were trying to disappear. When you finally turned to look at him, the weight of everything hit him all at once. His voice cracked with frustration and pain as he blurted out, “What the fuck was that?!”

You swallowed hard, your voice trembling but steady as you said, “I’m sorry.”

But that only ignited something fiercer inside him. His eyes burned with anger and confusion, and before he could think twice, he snapped, “Do you think you’re better than me? That you can just run away like that? Or are you that desperate, huh?!”

The moment the words left his mouth, his chest tightened with regret. He hadn’t meant to say it like that—he didn’t want to hurt you. But the damage was done.

A suffocating silence filled the room, thick and heavy like a storm about to break.

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with tears you were trying so hard to hold back. Your voice, once soft, now held a sharp edge as you fired back, “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Bakugou. So maybe you should shut the fuck up before you embarrass yourself.”

Then, almost breaking, you whispered, “What did I do to you?”

Your question hung in the air, raw and aching—an echo of all the pain neither of you wanted to face. But you didn’t wait for an answer. You turned away, each step heavy with heartbreak, leaving him standing alone in the room, the silence swallowing him whole.

And in that moment, Bakugou knew—he had fucked up, and this time, it felt like he might have lost you for good.

6th - getting kidnapped together

This was hell. Scratch that—this was worse than hell. If Bakugou had known the “training camp” involved team-building games, getting partnered up with other extras, and fake survival scenarios in the middle of nowhere, he would’ve exploded his way out before they even packed.

Bakugou gritted his teeth, arms crossed as he stood in the clearing surrounded by trees and idiots. Mina was bouncing around with a box of paper slips like it was a party game. “Partner draw time!” she called out, way too excited for his liking. “Everyone pick a name!”

“Tch.” He didn’t even try to hide his irritation. “This is so damn stupid.”

“Aw, c’mon man, just go with it,” Kirishima said, slapping his back like they were best friends or something.

Bakugou sighed through his nose and grabbed a slip of paper. His eyes scanned the name—and his whole body immediately tensed.

It was yours. After the whole debacle at the sports fest, you two weren’t talking anymore—scratch that, you weren’t talking to him. Which, honestly, he didn’t blame you. It was kind of funny how the tables had turned.

Across the clearing, Bakugou caught sight of you staring down at your own slip of paper. You looked so pissed off. Then your eyes lifted—and locked onto his. Neither of you looked thrilled.

“Wait— you two?!” Mina’s voice cut through the quiet, full of shock. She was well aware of the strange shift between you and Bakugou.

“It’s okay, Bakugou, I can take—”

“It’s fine, Mina. It’s for the sake of this camp,” You interrupted, voice low but firm.

The two of you started walking down the dark, barely lit pathway. The air between you was thick with awkward silence—neither of you said a word.

The mission was simple: work with your randomly assigned partner, use a crappy map to reach your destination, and avoid any “ambushes” set up by the teachers. Easy. Tedious. Pointless.

But then it all went sideways.

The ground shook. There was a loud bang in the distance—too real, too raw. Someone screamed. Smoke poured through the trees.

“Shit,” Bakugou muttered, yanking you behind him as his palms flared with heat. “That’s not a fuckin’ drill.”

It wasn’t. A real villain showed up—one who’d warped in through some kind of black mist. The two of you fought hard, but there was something in the air. A gas. His movements slowed, your limbs heavy, his vision doubled. And then, everything went dark.

...

When Bakugou woke up, everything ached. His head was pounding. His wrists were bound behind his back. The air was damp, heavy with mold and dust.

He was on the cold floor of what looked like a storage basement. Concrete walls, broken light above. Dim. Quiet. Except for the sound of breathing next to him.

You.

You stirred, groaning softly as you sat up, only to realize you were tied too. Your eyes widened when you saw him, and he hated the way your face tensed in fear for just a second before you masked it.

“You okay?” he rasped. You nodded slowly. “Yeah… I think so. Where are we?”

“No idea.” He shifted, testing the ropes. Tight. Bastards knew what they were doing.

You looked around, gaze sharp despite everything. “Did they say anything? Do anything?”

He hesitated. “No.” Then, muffled voices came from outside the door. “You said we only needed the boy,” one of them said. “Why did you bring the girl too?”

Bakugou froze. Every muscle in his body locked. They didn’t even mean to take you. You were an accident. A casualty. And it was his fucking fault. “I’ll handle it,” another voice replied coldly.

Then silence.

Minutes ticked by. You didn’t speak. Neither did he. But he counted. 1,829 seconds. He knew because he needed something—anything—to keep control.

He broke the quiet first.

“I’m sorry for saying those words,” Bakugou said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. “There was too much going on and I took it out on you”

“It’s okay,” you reassured gently. “You didn’t know what was going on.”

Another silence settled between you, heavy and tense.

Then, gathering his courage, he broke it again—this time asking the one question he’d been dying to ask but had been too cowardly to voice, too scared of the answer.

“Why didn’t you show up?” His voice was low, almost cautious.

Bakugou saw you inhale shakily, struggling to hold yourself together. “I was eating with my parents. One last meal in our house before we headed to the airport and went to the resort. Then—out of nowhere—my quirk just spun out of control.”

A tear slid down your cheek. Bakugou wants to reach out and wipe it away.

“It hurt. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t do anything but watch it control me. I—” Your voice cracked. “I hurt my parents. And then I passed out.”

You sniffed, your voice breaking as you continued. “The doctor told me there’s little research about quirks turning on their own users. My parents were scared. They told me I wasn’t going to attend UA anymore. That I wasn’t going to be a pro-hero.”

Another tear slipped free.

“I was so mad. I’ve spent my whole life working my ass off, trying to get strong enough, trying to be good enough for UA. And then just like that… one night. One freak accident. And it was all gone.”

You let out a bitter laugh—short, sharp.

“I had to beg them to let me come. Had to scream, argue, cry. I pulled everything I had left just to get on that damn plane.”

Bakugou said nothing, but he didn’t look away either.

“But I’m also scared… because what if they were right? What if I’m not fit to be a pro-hero? What if my quirk turns on me again? What if I hurt—” You choked on your words, tears spilling freely now, full-blown crying.

He shifted closer, just enough that your shoulders nearly touched. “Is that why you didn’t use your quirk?” he asked quietly. You nodded.

“Hey,” he said, voice low but firm, “ You’re way stronger than before. Hell, you’re stronger than all those extras combined.”

He paused, watching your face carefully, making sure you were listening. “You fought to be here. You survived everything. And that’s why you’ll be a pro-hero.”

Bakugou wanted to wrap his arms around you, to hold you tight—anything to make you feel whole again, to remind you how much you mattered. 

“I’m sorry—,” he muttered, but you cut him off. “Bakugou, I said it’s okay,” you smiled gently, trying to ease the tension.

“For making you do detention,” he continued, finally meeting your eyes. You could see the hesitation in his gaze, and your confusion only deepened.

“What are you talking about—?”

“I’m the one who broke that asshole’s— the one who insulted you and that pink-haired girl—his nose and wrist.” He said it quickly, as if ripping off a band-aid. “The reason why you got detention.”

Your mouth dropped open as the realization hit you like a slap. “Oh my god— is that why you were late?!?” You didn’t even realize you’d leaned into him until your shoulder bumped against his, playful but full of disbelief.

“You idiot,” you breathed, stunned, but a laugh bubbled up anyway—uncontrollable and light.

“Why did you do it?” you asked, your voice cracking between a whisper and a giggle. You bit your lip, trying not to laugh too loud.

Bakugou looked away again, needing to— you were too adorable trying to hold back your laughter. His jaw tightened, and his cheek twitched.

“Well,” he muttered, “he was a dick.”

You let out a soft huff of laughter, shaking your head.

“He kept running his mouth even after you kneed his—uh, you know. Then he said something about you. Something really shitty. And I saw red. I punched his face again.” He paused, remembering how furious he’d been when he heard what that bastard said about you, how he couldn’t control himself when he threw that first punch. Then, quieter, he added, “When he tried to swing back, I broke his wrist.”

He could feel you staring at him, your laughter now mixed with something warmer—admiration, maybe. He finally looked back at you, wanting to see your face again.

His chest tightened at the sight of your smile.

“You’re unbelievable,” you whispered, still smiling as you leaned your head back against the cold wall.

He didn’t say anything, just stared a second longer.

“Thanks,” you added softly, almost afraid to say it out loud. “For sticking up for me. And for Mina.”

This time, he didn’t shrug it off. He just muttered, “Tch. No one talks shit about you.” And he damn well made sure of it.

But this moment—this happiness—was brutally short-lived. The door slammed open with a harsh, unforgiving bang that echoed through the cramped room. Two men stood silhouetted in the doorway—one wearing a cold, expressionless mask, the other with no face at all, just a swirling black mist where his head should have been.

Without hesitation, the masked man strode forward and yanked you roughly by the arm, dragging you away from Bakugou. You stumbled, struggling to resist, but his grip only tightened, unforgiving and strong.

Meanwhile, the black-mist figure knelt beside Bakugou and, with an effortless motion, loosened his restraints as if they were nothing.

They didn’t say a word as they led both of you out of the cramped room and into what looked like a rundown bar—dimly lit, thick with dust, and lined with flickering neon signs that barely clung to life. You twisted your wrists desperately, trying to break free, but the masked man’s hold squeezed even tighter. A sharp yelp escaped you.

Bakugou saw red—his blood boiling hotter than ever.

“Hurt her, and I’ll kill you!” Bakugou’s voice exploded through the room, fierce and unwavering, cutting through the tension like a lightning strike.

I need a plan. Fast. I need to get her out of here, Bakugou thought, heart pounding. He had to get you out of danger. He could blast them all—no problem—but that prick was way too fast.

Ding!

“Pizza delivery!”

One Time He Chose To Be

Bakugou stood outside your hospital room, gripping Mr. Strawberry in one hand as he stared at the door like it might bite him. After the heroes rescued both of you from the League of Villains, you had suddenly collapsed in his arms. The doctors said you inhaled the majority of the gas—it wasn’t lethal, but it was enough to knock you out.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and finally pushed the door open.

This was the second time he’d seen you since then. The first was… chaotic. Nurses, his teacher, and a few classmates had practically dragged him out of the room, needing a crater’s worth of force just to pry him away from your side.

Now, the second time.

He had gone all the way back to the dorms just to grab that stupid plushie you wouldn’t sleep without. Had to practically do parkour through campus and dodge paparazzi like a ninja to avoid answering their invasive questions.

And now—there you were. Sitting up in bed, wrapped in blankets, watching cartoons on the hospital TV. You smiled at a joke on screen, soft and unguarded. His heart thudded a little too fast.

Sensing him, you turned, lowering the volume.

“Bakugou! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?” you asked, carefully shifting your body to face him.

He stepped closer and extended the plushie toward you. “I’m here because I know you can’t sleep without him.”

You blinked, touched. “You went all the way back for Mr. Strawberry?”

He shrugged, eyes darting away. “Tch. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

But it was a big deal. And the way your fingers curled around the plushie, the way your eyes softened, told him you knew that too.

“Thank you… for bringing him,” you said softly, hugging Mr. Strawberry close as you looked at him. “You should be the one getting comforted, you know. The League of Villains is after you, and yet here you are… comforting me instead.”

You tried to tease, but both of you knew there was truth in your words.

You shifted to the side, making room. “After all the crap you’ve been through, you’re the one who deserves to be comforted.”

Bakugou got the message, wordlessly sitting beside you. “I know you’re probably sick of me apologizing, but I want to say sorry again—”

He didn’t finish. Because your lips pressed against his, gentle but certain.

When you pulled back, a smile tugged at your lips. “I think that’s the best way to get you to stop apologizing.”

Bakugou stared at you, stunned for a second. You watched the flicker of emotion cross his face, his jaw clenching slightly—not in anger, but in something raw and overwhelmed.

“I think,” you continued softly, “us getting stuck with each other, ending up together every vacation… I think the universe is trying to tell us something.”

Bakugou dipped his head down, resting his forehead gently against yours. His voice was low, almost a grumble, but the softness in it made your heart skip.

“That, don’t be stupid… and just get together already.”

You let out a breathy laugh, teasing, “Together already? Maybe ask me on a date first?”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

“Then…” he said, clearing his throat. “Would you go out with me?”

“Bakugou—” you started, but he cut you off, voice lower than usual, almost gentle.

“Call me Katsuki.”

Your lips curled into a slow, genuine grin, the kind that reached your eyes. You didn’t miss a beat.

“Of course, I would go out with you,” you said softly, letting the name roll off your tongue like it belonged there. “Katsuki.”

...

A/N: so umm, the fanfic writer curse (idk what the name) is true, bcs why tf am i writing this in the ER, almost die—TWICE (this is separate from the er. My mother is finally getting the help she needs :>) and i’m having imposter syndrome BECAUSE IM ACTUALLY BEING APOINTED AS THE EDITOR IN CHIEF ?!?!?!?!?!? FUCK

Taglist: @theysaidhush @magicalrainbowfish @watu2ka @rixiieee @shewki @bugg777 @d4wnyjlk @biodegradablevagina @suksatoru @lillyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @bruleecream @badslittlemuffin @mewwccury @blueemochii @iris-nights @well-yeahs-blog @rikidaze @ayoulookingfine @gina239 @lvc-lv @getosh0e @intimidaid @jealousmartini (just comment if you want to be added on my taglist >⩊< )

[lemonmoonmochi]

[angelx]

Say It Again

cw: nsfw: brat tamer!katsuki x fem!reader, taunting, brat taming, punishment, spanking, edging, fingering, dirty talking, degradation, praise, mention of safe word, hair grabbing, rough sex, penetrative sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, long intro my bad

You'd been needling him all damn day.

Snide comments under your breath. Passive-aggressive digs over dinner. Calling him “perfect little pro hero” with that sarcastic lilt he hated. Not flirting. Not playing. Just pushing.

And he took it. Took it like the man he was—stoic, tight-lipped, jaw clenched. But he wasn’t stupid. He saw the way your eyes sparkled every time you poked the bear. You wanted him to break.

You just didn’t think he actually would.

You were sprawled across the bed now, scrolling your phone like you hadn’t just spent the last hour using your words like knives.

“You gonna glare at me all night, or are you finally gonna grow the fuck up?” you muttered.

Katsuki didn’t answer at first. He sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. Breathing steady. Too steady. You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, say something. You’ve been pouting like a kicked puppy all day.”

Still nothing.

You smirked. Dangerous. “What, you don’t like it when I treat you the way you treat everyone else? Sucks being on the receiving end, huh?”

That’s when he stood up. Slow. Deliberate. Like he had to manually suppress the urge to snap your phone in half.

“You done?” he asked, voice low.

You shrugged, feigning boredom. “Not really. But I’m getting there.”

He took one step closer. “You think I won’t put you on your fuckin’ knees for that mouth?”

You looked up, defiant. "I think you’ve gone soft, Bakugou. You used to fuck the attitude out of me. Now you just sulk like a little bitch.”

That did it. That broke him.

His jaw ticked. His eyes narrowed like he was calculating how hard he could wreck you without breaking the bed frame. “What the fuck did you just say?”

You sat up, tossing your phone aside. “Oh, now you’re listening?”

He grabbed you by the jaw so fast it made your breath catch.

“You really wanna test me tonight, princess?” he growled, thumb pressed against your lower lip. “You really wanna see what the fuck happens when I stop being nice?”

“I’ve been waiting,” you bit back, lips curling into a grin. “Or maybe you’re all bark now.”

His hand dropped to your throat—not choking, just holding, reminding you he could. His voice dipped into something darker than anything you'd heard from him in weeks.

“You’re not gonna walk tomorrow.”

“Good,” you whispered. “Then maybe I’ll shut up for once.”

He threw you down on the bed. Clothes? Ripped. Panties? Torn off with one brutal yank. His hands were everywhere—manhandling, pinning, flipping you over like you weighed nothing.

You pushed him too far this time. The smart mouth. The taunts. The absolute disrespect. You wanted to piss him off. Needed him to remind you who the fuck you belonged to. And unfortunately for you?

He finally decided to indulge you. So now you’re naked—thrown over his lap like a spoiled little brat—squirming while his calloused palm delivers sharp, deliberate smacks to your ass, each one hotter and rougher than the last.

“You think this is a game?” SMACK.

His hand cracked against your skin with a force that echoed in the silence.

“You think you can mouth off, act like some insufferable little brat—” SMACK “—and I won’t do something about it?”

You gasped, legs twitching, body jostled forward with every hit. But you didn’t apologize. Not yet. Not when your pride still clawed at your throat.

“Go on,” he spat, towering over you, chest heaving with restraint stretched to its breaking point. “Keep fucking pushing me. Keep pretending you don’t know who the fuck you’re talking to.”

Another smack, harder, and you choked on a moan.

“I’ve been patient. I’ve held back. I’ve let you snap at me, mock me, bite every goddamn hand that tried to love you.” His fingers dug into the curve of your ass, nails biting into your skin. “And you think I won’t remind you who the fuck owns this body?”

Two more hits. Sharp, punishing. One to each cheek.

“By the time I’m done with you,” he growled, voice rough, dangerous, “You’ll be begging for mercy. You’ll forget every word except my fuckin’ name.”

You whimpered, eyes already burning. He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back just enough to see the panic-glazed lust in your eyes. You were already dripping, thighs twitching, biting back moans like it wouldn’t betray how much this punishment turned you on.

“Tch. Look at this pussy,” he sneered, fingers running between your soaked folds. “You get off on this shit, huh? Act like a bitch all day just to get your ass beat.”

He shoved two fingers inside you suddenly, and you gasped, hips jerking, grinding down on them—until he pulled them out.

“Ah ah. That’s not how this works,” he growled, dragging you off his lap and tossing you on the bed like you weighed nothing. “You don’t get to come. Not yet.”

He tied your wrists to the headboard. Loose enough to be safe, tight enough to make your heart race. You whined, tugging against the restraints. Even when he's rough, he still makes sure everything is safe. He will stop if she says she wants to stop, especially when she uses her safe word.

“Katsuki—”

Slap. Not hard, just a sharp sting against your inner thigh.

“Don’t talk. Not unless I say so.”

He dropped to his knees, pulling your legs apart. “You want my mouth?” he teased, breath ghosting over your soaked cunt. “You think you earned it?”

You said nothing. He didn’t move.

“Answer me.”

“…No,” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

You swallowed. “N-No, sir.”

His grin was dark. Proud. Predatory.

“Damn right.”

And then he started—tongue lapping at your clit, slow and lazy. Teasing. Fingers spreading you open while he circled your swollen bud, humming like he was savoring dessert. You gasped, back arching, thighs trembling. But just when you were about to fall over the edge—He stopped. You screamed.

“KATSUKI—!”

Another slap to your thigh. He stood up, licking his fingers slowly, watching you fall apart. “You don’t get to come until you’ve learned.”

The edging didn’t happen once. Or twice. He edged you four times. You were sobbing by the end of it. Voice hoarse. Body thrumming with heat. Eyes glassy. Your thighs wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I need it—Katsuki, please, I’ll be good, I swear I’ll—”

He grabbed your face. “Say it again.”

“I’ll be good,” you hiccupped. “I’ll be so good for you, I swear, Katsuki, please—!”

That’s when he undid the restraints and flipped you onto your stomach, dragging your hips up to meet him. You barely had time to breathe. He didn’t even prep you. Just spat into his hand and stroked his cock once before shoving in, thick and unforgiving, dragging a broken moan from your lips.

You screamed.

“That’s it,” he growled, fucking into you like a man possessed. “Now you remember who owns this fuckin’ pussy. Who you come to when you’re desperate. When you need your bratty ass put in check.”

You tried to squirm away, gasping, but he pinned you by the hips and slammed back in, making you cry out.

“Not so smart now, huh? Where’s all that fuckin’ mouth?” He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back to whisper in your ear. “Say some shit now. I dare you.”

You couldn’t. Not through the breathless moans and hiccupped cries. He fucked you rough, mean, brutal like punishment. Your legs shook. Your body curled in on itself. He pulled orgasm after orgasm from you until your voice was gone, your mascara was running, and your defiance was just gone.

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Only cry and moan and thank him, even when your orgasm hit like a truck—violent, involuntary, and so intense you thought you might black out. He didn’t stop. Not when you clenched. Not when you whined. Not when your legs gave out.

“I’ll tell you when we’re done,” he hissed. “You come when I say. You stop when I’m satisfied.”

When he finally came—deep inside, growling through his teeth—he didn’t pull out. He leaned over you, breathing heavily, his weight keeping you caged beneath him.

You were shaking, panting, ruined—but when he pulled you into his chest afterward, kissing your forehead and whispering “You did so fuckin’ good for me, princess,” it was almost enough to make you cry again.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

check out my other works here!: MHA MASTERLIST

[ghostlycamil4]

hiiihihi ur blog is so yummy

playfighting with katsuki pls,,,,,, cus something tells me he’d be so big on roughhousing hehe

thanku !!!!!

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝐻𝑒’𝑙𝑙 𝐸𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑑𝑒 𝐼𝑓 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑇𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝐻𝑖𝑚 (𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑀𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝐵𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑃𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡)

this was such a cute request omg thank you sm for sending it in, you were so right btw… he’d be so into roughhousing it’s ridiculous 😭 i had a lot of fun with this one.

and for the rest of u: requests are still open btw! i’m thriving off your brainrots

The lights were dim, the blankets already thrown over the couch, and the TV screen glowing with the movie menu in front of you. Kirishima and Denki had volunteered to grab drinks and snacks, leaving you alone with Bakugo in the living room, facing the most ridiculous dilemma in the world: picking a damn movie.

"Come on, just one comedy," you said, sitting on your legs with the remote in hand. "Something light, I don’t wanna watch people die in a space war."

Bakugo scoffed, half sprawled on the couch, legs wide open, one arm hanging over the backrest.

"Comedies are a waste of time," he grunted. "If I’m gonna sit for two hours, there better be explosions."

"God, you’re such a nerd. Obsessed with Star Wars."

His red eyes glared at you for a second, but the corner of his mouth twitched—barely noticeable. He watched you with that usual intensity, like every word you said just gave him more reasons to argue. To push your buttons.

"Give me the remote," he said lowly.

"Not a chance."

When he leaned forward to grab it, you pulled back, holding it up out of reach. It was dumb. But effective. Bakugo growled, rolled his eyes, and lunged at you without warning.

It wasn’t violent. It was quick, clumsy, physical. His hands grabbed your waist easily and shoved you toward the back of the couch while you struggled, laughing breathlessly. You yelled his name in protest and he just growled in return.

"Bakugo, get off!"

"Then give me the damn remote!"

"You wanna fight?" he growled near your ear, his voice low and rough. It sounded like a challenge—but there was something else in it… like he wanted you to say yes.

"You trying to provoke me?"

"I’m winning."

"Oh, really?"

His words cut off when, in your attempt to twist away from his hold, you pushed off with more strength than you meant to. He wasn’t ready for it. The move was messy, fast, almost accidental—you lost balance and toppled right over him, rolling just enough to end up half sprawled on top of him.

Your torso pressed against his, the side of your face barely brushing his collarbone. One of your legs—your left—hooked instinctively over his right one, making the contact a little too close for comfort.

The remote slid across the floor and disappeared somewhere near the couch, but neither of you noticed. Not right then.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Just looked at you.

First in the eyes. Then, his gaze dropped to your lips, with a fierce intensity that knocked the air from your lungs. Just for a second. But it felt endless. Then his eyes found yours again, holding them like he was searching for a reason to get closer… or maybe not to.

Until suddenly—

"Ahem…"

You both turned at the same time. There they were, standing at the entrance: Kirishima, grinning with a six-pack in one hand, and Denki, wearing a look that screamed “you better spill everything later.”

"Are we interrupting something…?" Denki asked, clearly loving every second of it.

Kirishima faked a cough again.

You jumped off Bakugo like he was on fire. Sat up quickly, fixing your hair with burning cheeks. He just straightened up with a grunt, adjusting his wrinkled shirt and shooting Denki a murderous glare.

"You guys took forever, dumbasses."

"Yeah, sure, we’re the problem," Denki smirked.

2 hours and 22 minutes later...

The movie had ended a while ago. Kirishima and Bakugo walked ahead down the hall, tossing around comments about the action scenes, the explosions, and the gut-wrenching ending. Their voices faded as they moved away.

You walked behind them with Denki. The hallway lights flickered slightly above, and the soft sound of your footsteps blended with the quiet he’d clearly been holding back for minutes.

"So?" he asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"Oh, please." He leaned in a little, like you were some fascinating experiment. "You think it’s normal to end up on top of him over a remote?"

"It was an accident."

"Sure. And I’m the Symbol of Peace."

He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes, though there was no judgment in his tone. More like amusement.

"Look, you can say whatever you want, but that dumbass is so gone for you, it’s pathetic."

You glanced at him sideways, half confused, half nervous. Denki raised both hands like he was surrendering.

"Swear to god, I’m not the only one who sees it. Everyone knows. Except apparently the two of you. Y’all are out there tripping each other like it’s some kind of pregame ritual."

"He’s like that with everyone," you muttered, still not meeting his eyes.

"No. He’s not."

Now his voice dropped a bit. Not out of seriousness, more like he was letting you in on some secret. He straightened up, walking right beside you again.

"Bakugo can be an asshole, yeah. But with you…" He shook his head with a lazy smile. "With you it’s different. He always finds an excuse to touch you."

He glanced over at you, tilting his head.

"Have you noticed how often he shoves you? Pulls you? Picks fights over dumb shit?"

You closed your eyes for a second, thinking.

• That time you told him his shirt was ugly and he tackled you into the couch with a half-laugh.

• When you handed him a chip and he grabbed your whole damn wrist instead, grumbling, "don’t give me leftovers."

• How he always trips you when you walk side by side, or chucks a pillow just to start a war. Just to keep it going.

Playfighting.

"He’s like a lovesick grade-schooler," Denki went on, leaning against the counter now. "If he could put gum on your seat or yank your pigtails, he would. But since he’s not eight anymore, he settles for throwing you into cushions every time you breathe weird."

You couldn’t help laughing, though you rolled your eyes.

"Shut up, it’s not that deep…"

"Sometimes I think the only thing scarier to him than falling for you—" Denki muttered, not looking at you now, "—is you actually finding out."

But then he grinned, winked, and gave you a light pat on the back just as you reached your bedroom door.

"Sleep tight, lover girl. I didn’t see a thing."

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