#Bakugo Katsuki x reader

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ FAT ASS LIKE HERS NEEDS A REAL MAN TO FUCK IT. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you get tangled up with your boyfriend's arrogant, infuriating, and devastatingly hot rival, katsuki bakugou and ended up fucking... one too many times.

starring: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x enemy's girlfriend! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: cheating on yo shindo, cheating with katsuki bakugo, body worship, implied mentions of anal sex, oral sex (f! receiving, face riding), manhandling, penetrative / p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

note: usage of "sweetheart", "pretty", "pretty girl", "sweets", fem reader, implied plus size! reader, mean! katsuki, katsuki calls reader fat but not really (specifically, reader's ass), (hopefully) promoting body positivity. really thought this song gave katsuki vibes and havent seen a fic based off of it yet. reminds me of that montoya guy watching his girl fuck someone on camera lmao😭. time to give back to my community, hope you guys enjoy💜

╰┈➤ [katsuki bakugo was an asshole.] everyone knew that. and when it came to shindo yo, he was even worse. the two had never gotten along—never would. 

which was exactly why, when katsuki walked into the bar and spotted you, nursing a drink, frustration etched across your face, he couldn’t help but smirk.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. probably your boyfriend getting a little too damn close to another "friend" again. just like always. this wasn’t the first time, and knowing him, it wouldn’t be the last.

this was the kind of moment he lived for, a rare opportunity to get under shindo’s skin. sure, maybe katsuki didn’t hate shindo that much, but you? you were a different story.

he sauntered over, leaning an arm against the counter, eyes never leaving you. "rough night?"

you glanced up, instantly recognizing the pro hero standing beside you. with a sigh, you swirled your drink in its glass. “you could say that.”

“lemme guess... your idiot boyfriend givin’ you trouble again?”

“…something like that.”

“don’t know why you put up with him, honestly," he chuckled, the sound low and knowing. he tipped his drink toward you, watching your reaction carefully. "you deserve better than some asshole who doesn’t know how to appreciate you.”

your lips quirked, a mix of amusement and exasperation. “and you think you can appreciate me?”

katsuki had no shame, never did. so he grinned, a flicker of something dangerous in his crimson gaze.

"want me to show you, sweetheart?"

one thing led to another and soon enough— you were in his bed, limbs tangled, gasping his name, making sure you see the stars in the sky as he fucked the frustration right out of you.

and after that night, fucking you became katsuki's favorite way to piss shindo off.

you weren’t stupid. you knew exactly what this was. but did you care? not one damn bit. he had you in his bed more than your shitty boyfriend ever did. and yeah, maybe it started as a way to get under shindo’s skin, but somewhere along the way, it became something neither of you wanted to stop.

because katsuki? he was fucking obsessed with you.  

some nights, he’d pull you into his lap, hands splayed over your hips as he buried his face in your neck, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

“fuck, i missed you,” he groaned, voice thick with something dangerously close to vulnerability. his grip tighten, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. “shouldn’t let you leave my bed, y’know that?”

you chuckled, tilting your head back as his lips trailed lower. “you’re never satisfied, huh?”

“so what?” he nipped at your skin, making you squeak. “i like my woman soft. more of you for me to grab.”

and grab he did. he was clingy in the worst way—always needing to have a hand on you, whether it was squeezing your ass, gripping your waist, or just absentmindedly tracing patterns on your thigh while you laid in bed together.

katsuki just loved how you felt in his hands.

then there are the nights when he'd lie with his head on your lap, letting you comb your fingers through his hair, one arm thrown lazily over his chest.

his eyes were shut, his expression relaxed, but every so often, his brows furrowed as he grumbled about his day.

like now.

“dumbass intern nearly blew up my whole damn office,” he muttered, eyes closed. “and kirishima kept laughin’ like it was the funniest shit he’d ever seen.”

you hummed, dragging your nails lightly over his scalp. “i mean… you do blow things up all the time. bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

his eyes cracked open, leveling you with a glare. “tch. ain’t funny.”

you bit back a smile. “a little funny.”

he exhaled sharply through his nose but didn’t argue. he never really did when you played with his hair. it was his weakness, and he hated that you knew it.

your fingers trailed down to his jaw, tracing the sharp edge. he leaned into your touch instinctively, like it was second nature. and maybe it was.

“you’re really pretty, you know that?” you murmured.

his eyes flickered open again, red irises locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze—something so raw and vulnerable.

“oi,” he muttered, shifting slightly, ears turning pink. “quit it.”

you grinned. “quit what?”

“saying dumb shit like that.”

“but it’s true.”

katsuki scowled, but the way he pressed his cheek into your palm gave him away. he huffed, eyes slipping shut again.

“…whatever.”

and he loved it. the times he's spent with you, whether he was fucking you or just talking about each other's day, he loved all of it. not just because it was a middle finger to shindo, but because katsuki got to have you all to himself. 

honestly? it stopped being about shindo a long time ago. but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rub it in the bastard’s face.

"she was beggin’ me to keep goin’ last night," katsuki bragged, arm slung lazily around your waist, knowing full well that shindō was fuming. his hand drifted lower, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass. “bet you don’t even know how to handle all this ass, huh? shame. guess that’s why she keeps crawlin’ back to me.”

shindo clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what katsuki was implying. he knew. knew there was truth in katsuki’s words. knew that every time he and you argued, you’d disappear for a while, only to return looking a little too satisfied. "you really think you're some upgrade?"  

"she does. especially when she’s whining my name into the sheets.”  

"shut the fuck up, bakugo."  

katsuki barked a laugh, shameless and sharp. he was pissed, good. that was the reaction he wanted. but he wasn’t done yet.

“she’s a greedy lil’ thing, too. always wantin’ more," he grinned, eyes flicking over to him before locking back at yours. "but look at her. how could i say no? she looks so fuckin’ perfect under me."

your face burns, heat creeping up your neck before he scoffs and turns back to grilling your ex, like you weren’t just standing there, completely flustered.

"did she ever tell you how much she loves it when i grab these—" his fingers trailed down your side, giving a firm squeeze and earning a small yelp from you. "—and i slam my dick into her? fuck her real nice and deep? moans so pretty for me, too. you ever heard it?"

and if shindo so much as opened his mouth, katsuki would throw in another dig.

"nah. probably not. bet she asked you if it was in yet.”  

"well, she's all yours," shindo said, fists clenching, clearly seconds away from punching him. and katsuki lived for it.  

"yeah, figured you’d say that," katsuki taunted. "she’s been stress eatin’ too much to deal with a weak-ass like you."  

and then, just because he was an absolute bastard, he'd go in for the kill.

"fat ass like hers needs a real man to fuck it."  

shindo looked about ready to swing, but you pulled katsuki away before things got too messy.  you could still feel the heat of shindo’s rage burning through the air. it thrilled you more than it should have. 

but behind closed doors? the same man who ran his mouth would spend hours pressed against you, whispering things he’d never admit to anyone else.

"c’mere," katsuki grumbled, tugging you onto the bed after another long day of antagonizing your ex. his arms wrapped around your waist, face immediately pressing into your soft stomach.

he worshipped you—every inch, every soft curve, but nothing captivated him more than your stomach.

he was obsessed, utterly entranced. he’d bury his face against it, his hands kneaded your sides, gripping, squeezing—memorizing, pressing lazy kisses to every dip and curve. he held your body with a reverence that bordered on possessive, like he was terrified you’d slip away.

"fuck, baby," he groaned, nuzzling into you like he wanted to disappear into your skin. “love your body so goddamn much. s’perfect.”

you chuckled, threading your fingers through his hair. "thought you said i was stress-eating."  

"yeah, stress-eatin’ on my dick," he muttered, pressing kisses against your tummy. "he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you."

“then why do you still do it, hmm?”

he looked up at you, red eyes dark with something almost desperate as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

"tch, you know why i do that. pisses him off. makes him realize he ain't shit. ‘cause he ain't."  

you shivered at the heat of his lips against your skin, biting back a smile as you run your fingers through his hair. so that’s what this was about. "you sure you’re not just obsessed with him at this point?”

he scoffed against your stomach, his grip on your waist tightening. “the hell i am. only thing i’m obsessed with is you.”

it was the side of him no one else got to see— the way he nuzzled into you, the way he pressed his lips to your skin over and over, like he couldn’t get enough. he'd grumble if you tried to move, holding you tighter to keep you in bed, murmuring "stay here. wanna hold ya."  

he loved how soft you were, how warm—how no matter how much he grabbed, squeezed, or traced his fingers over you, it was never enough. he needed you. it was like he was drunk on the feel of you, the scent of you. and truthfully, he was.

"love this shit,” he admitted lowly, voice thick with something almost vulnerable. he nuzzled into your tummy again, letting out a deep, satisfied sigh. "could live here."

you raised a brow, fighting back a grin as you looked down at him. “oh? you wanna live on my stomach now?”

“yes, baby,” he muttered almost desperately, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction while pressing another lingering kiss to your skin. “soft. warm. smells like you.”

you laughed, dragging your fingers through his hair. “so what, you’re gonna quit being a hero and move in here?”

he let out a gruff chuckle, turning his head to rest his cheek against you. “tch. would if i could. wouldn’t need a bed, a couch, nothin’. just this perfect spot.”

“oh yeah?” you hummed, tilting your head. “should i start charging you rent?”

he huffed against your skin. “tch. smartass.”

you giggled, brushing a thumb over the shell of his ear. “i mean, if you’re gonna move in, might as well contribute. utilities, groceries… maybe even a tummy tax.”

his red eyes flicked up at you, narrowing. “the fuck is a tummy tax?”

you grinned. “unlimited kisses. daily.”

he snorts, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “already payin’ for that, pretty."

and you laughed, because for all his big talk, katsuki bakugo adored you. as long as he had you, nothing else mattered.

and despite the way he ran his mouth, he never let you feel insecure. if he ever caught you looking at yourself too long in the mirror, he’d grab you and pull you onto the bed, hovering over you with that intense, fiery gaze.  

"the fuck are you thinkin’ about?" he’d demand, hands gripping your thighs, squeezing, leaving marks. "you’re mine. this body? all mine. and i fuckin’ love every inch of you. don’t ever fuckin’ doubt how much i want you."

and god, did he prove it.

he didn't just tolerate your body—he adored it. and thats why you found yourself looking down at him lying comfortably on his back, eyes dark with anticipation. he was waiting—no, expecting—you to sit on his face.

you shake your head, heat creeping up your neck. "i can just lay down, 'suki..."

katsuki scoffs, sitting up slightly, his hands already reaching for your thighs, clearly impatient. "tch. and deny me a great view? cut the crap and get up here, sweets."

you shake your head again. "i just- what if i’m too heavy?"

he lets out a sharp, exasperated scoff. "for who? me? well that’s rude."

"it’s not..." you hesitate for half a second, but that’s all the time he gives you. 

he yanks you down onto his face with a low growl, his mouth immediately sealing over your cunt. "stop stallin’ and just give me what i want..."

you hesitate, subtly hovering just above him instead of lowering yourself onto his face, holding onto the headboard for support. his eyes flick up to yours, and the second he realizes what you're doing, his expression darkens.

"the fuck do you think you’re doin’?" his grip on your thighs tightens, his voice a low, dangerous growl. 

“i don’t want to crush you—”

“are you fuckin’ serious?” his voice drips with pure offense, like you just insulted his entire existence. "you really think i can't handle you? think you're doin’ me a favor by holdin’ back?"

you try to protest, but he’s already yanking you down on his face, forcing you to sit properly. his growl vibrates against you as he buries his face between your thighs. the way he looked up at you—pissed off and starving—sent a shiver down your spine.

your face burned, heart pounding in your chest. "i just— i don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

katsuki let out a sharp laugh, the sound vibrating against your folds, lifting you by your hips to give him room to speak from time to time. 

"uncomfortable? sweetheart, the only thing makin’ me uncomfortable right now is you not sittin’ on my goddamn face like i told you to."

your lips parted in protest, but a startled moan escapes you as his tongue flicks over your clit, sharp and demanding. his grip on your thighs is punishing, locking you in place as he devours you with obscene hunger.

"katsuki—" you try to lift yourself, but his hands hold you firm.

"nah. shut up," he murmurs burying his tongue between your thighs without warning. a moan escapes you as he groans against your heat, his fingers digging into your skin to hold you firmly in place. 

"fuckin’ ridiculous," he mutters between licks, voice muffled. "ain’t takin’ this disrespect. you ain't doin’ me no favors by holdin’ back. told ya before— i want you—every fuckin’ inch of you." 

your breath hitches, and katsuki smirks like he knows he’s got you. his crimson eyes flicked up at you, glinting with mischief as he devoured the fuck out of your pretty little cunt, tongue glazed with his spit and your slick. 

"so don't you ever pull that hoverin’ shit again,” he warns, his tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds "or i swear to god, i'll make you sit here all fuckin' night—"

his words were cut off by the way he devoured you, lips and tongue working so hungrily that your legs nearly gave out then and there. his crimson eyes burned into you, daring you to try that shit again.

you whimper, thighs trembling, and he doubles down, tongue curling inside you before dragging back up to your clit, sucking just to hear you whine.

"fuck, baby," he groans against you, his voice thick with need. "taste so fuckin’ good."

your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging on the soft strands, but it only spurs him on. his hands slide to your ass, forcing you to take everything he gave you. he’s lost in it, completely drowning in you, and he likes it. loves it. wants more. 

"you drive me fuckin’ insane," he murmured, sucking your clit into his mouth with a filthy slurp. "you’re too damn perfect, and it pisses me off."  

your fingers tightened around the headboard, thighs trembling around his head. “how is that my fault? you're the one who—"

katsuki let out a frustrated growl against your cunt, cutting you off before you could finish. without warning, he flattened his tongue and dragged a slow, deliberate lick through your folds, making you gasp.

"its your fucking fault," he went on like he couldn’t believe you had the audacity to act so damn innocent.

his lips brush against your pussy as your legs threatened to close around his head, but his grip was firm, keeping you spread open for him. "prancin’ around, bein’ so goddamn pretty. takin’ up space in my head. gettin’ under my fuckin' skin and you expect me to act normal?"

you tried to answer, but he didn’t give you the chance. a sharp suck on your clit had your head tipping back, a needy whine escaping before you could stop it. his tongue slid through your folds again, swirling around your clit, and the sudden sensation made you choke on your words.

"katsuki—"

"nah. told you to shut up." he cut you off, voice muffled against your dripping cunt. "if you're gonna talk, you can fuckin’ moan."

your noises only spurred him on. your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping tightly as pleasure pooled in your stomach. his tongue worked you over with precision, switching between sucking and licking until your hips were rolling into his face, chasing more. 

"that's it," he muttered, sucking your clit into his mouth again, hard, and the moan that tore from your throat was anything but coherent, fucking you with his tongue. "you wanna run your mouth? do it like this." 

you could barely form a response, your mind going blank as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue relentless. the only thing that left your lips was a desperate, broken moan.

"fuckin' knew it," he groaned, his voice sending another wave of heat through your body. "knew you’d sound so fuckin' pretty when you just shut the fuck up while riding my face. could watch you like this all fuckin’ day."

you let out a shaky breath, barely able to focus as his tongue flicked over your clit again. katsuki pulled back just enough to suck in a breath, his lips slick and glistening with your arousal. his crimson eyes burned into you, half-lidded and desperate, but still sharp with command.

“fuck,” he groaned, voice thick with hunger. “touch yourself, pretty girl. play with those pretty tits for me.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you hesitated, already feeling overwhelmed by the way he was devouring you. but his grip tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh in warning.

“c’mon, sweets,” he rasped, his tongue flicking out to tease your clit before pulling back again. his eyes dragged up your body, the heat in them making you dizzy. “be a good girl and gimme a show, yeah?"

with trembling hands, you reached up, cupping your tits, teasing your own nipples the way you knew he liked. you kneaded them softly at first, rolling your thumbs over your nipples, but the second you pinched them, katsuki groaned, his eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing in existence.

“fuck yeah,” he muttered, running his tongue through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth again. “just like that, baby. play with those tits— keep puttin’ on a show for me while i eat this pretty little pussy.”

his tongue worked you over with hungry, unrelenting strokes, the obscene slurps and groans vibrating against you as he devoured you like a man starved.

you tugged at your nipples, your head falling back as pleasure rippled through you. your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around your nipples as the combination of your own hands on your body and his mouth wrecking you from below had your head spinning.

“katsuki—” you gasped, thighs trembling around his head. “i’m— i’m close.”

that was all it took. katsuki groaned deep in his throat, the sound vibrating against your cunt as his grip on your thighs tightened. his tongue worked even faster, flicking and circling your clit with devastating precision, like he needed you to fall apart for him or he'd die.

"yeah?" he rasped between licks, his voice thick and wrecked. "then fuckin’ give it to me, sweets. wanna feel you cum on my face."

he didn’t slow down, didn’t let up for even a second. his hands urged you down harder, forcing you to really sit on his face, and the pressure—his tongue, his mouth, the way he sucked on your clit—sent you careening straight into your orgasm.

your back arched, a broken moan spilling from your lips as pleasure crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. katsuki groaned against you like he felt it, like he was the one cumming, and he didn’t stop licking, didn’t stop devouring you, even as you trembled above him.

he finally pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with your slick as he sucked in a breath, eyes dark with hunger. he gave your thighs one last squeeze before gripping your waist.

“get up."

you blinked down at him, still trying to catch your breath. “what?”

“i said, get up,” he growled. "need to be inside you. now.”

you whined, shaking your head weakly. “katsuki, i just— i just came…”

“and?” he scoffed, sitting up slightly. “the fuck that got to do with me?”

before you could protest again, his strong arms moved, flipping you onto your back like you weighed nothing. a surprised yelp left your lips, but katsuki was already on top of you, pressing you into the mattress, his body burning hot against yours with his lips on yours.

"don't care if you just came," he muttered against your lips, biting down on your bottom one before sucking it into his mouth. "wanna feel you squeeze the cum outta me this time."

your head spun as he hovered over you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress. his hands were everywhere—gripping, kneading—like he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even a second.

"katsuki—"

"shut up," he growled, shoving your legs open with his knee. "you think i’m lettin’ you off that easy? nah. you got one, and now i’m gettin’ mine.”

you gasped as his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them wider as he settled between them, his cock already hard and leaking against your folds. he positioned himself at your pussy, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against you.

"look at you," he murmured, rubbing his throbbing tip through your slick folds. "all fuckin’ messy for me already."

you gasped, legs twitching from overstimulation. “i— i need a second—”

“the fuck you do,” he muttered, lining himself up with your entrance. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. you’re fine.”

and before you could say another word, he thrusted into you, stretching you open in one slow, deep stroke.

"don't care what the fuck you say," he rasps. "bein’ so fuckin’ sweet, it makes me wanna ruin you."

your hands scrambled against his shoulders, nails digging in as you let out a choked sob, overwhelmed, tears pricking at your eyes as he kept moving, his cock dragging against your already-sensitive walls. “k-katsuki—'s too much—”

he didn't stop. didn't even hesitate. he knew better. knew you. if it was really too much, if you truly couldn’t take it, you would’ve said the safe word. and since you hadn’t? that meant you loved this—loved how he was using you, pushing you past your limits, making you take every inch of him.

“yeah? then why’s this pussy still fuckin’ suckin’ me in, huh?” he leaned down, his mouth brushing against your ear. “you know what to say if you really wanted me to stop, sweets.”

you whimpered, blinking up at him, your face hot and damp with tears. your breath hitched when he rolled his hips deeper, making your back arch off the bed.

“you like it, don’t you?” he murmured, dragging his lips along your cheek, tasting the tears running down your face. his hands pinned your wrists down beside your head, locking you in place beneath him. “fuckin’ cryin’ and takin’ my dick so good anyway. knew you’d let me use this sweet little pussy however the fuck i wanted.”

your body shook with every thrust, overstimulated and overwhelmed, but the pleasure was so sharp and dizzying, that all you could do was moan through the tears. you sobbed, back arching, hands clutching at the sheets. it was too much, but it felt too good. 

 his thumb swiped at your tear-streaked cheek, his other hand pressing down on your lower stomach, feeling the way he stretched you open. 

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice husky as he fucked into you harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch. “be good for me. just take it. let me use you, yeah?”

you could barely think, barely breathe, and yet you nodded. and that was all he needed before his grip on your hips tightened, his cock stretching you wide, and he really started fucking you.

his hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper inside you, groaning as your walls clenched around him, still fluttering. his hand came up to grip your jaw, tilting your head to make you look at him.

“look at you,” he murmured, taking in the sight of you, tears spilling down your cheeks, the way your lips trembled. “so fuckin’ pretty like this. cryin’ for me. takin’ me like a good fuckin’ girl, squeezin’ me so tight, shit—”

your body trembled beneath him, your sobs mixing with broken moans as he fucked into you relentlessly. your arms struggled against his grip, desperate to reach for him, but he only pressed you deeper into the mattress, keeping you pinned.

“k-katsuki—” you gasped, tears slipping down your cheeks. “please—kiss me—”

he should’ve been satisfied with how wrecked you already were, with the way your body clenched around him so tight—but fuck, hearing you beg for his kisses?

that only made him worse.

“tch. still so fuckin’ needy, even when i’m ruining you.” 

his grip on your wrists loosens just enough for you to reach up. the second your hands touched him, you yanked him down, crashing your lips against his, desperate for the closeness, for the warmth of his mouth against yours.

katsuki groaned into the kiss, deep and hungry, swallowing your cries as he kissed you hard. his tongue pushes past your lips, claiming you just as much as his cock did. his thrusts didn’t slow, didn’t soften—if anything, he fucked you harder, like he wanted to ruin you completely.

“that what you needed, pretty girl?” he murmured against your lips, his breath heavy, your sobs melting into whimpers. “that why you’re cryin’? ‘cause you needed me to kiss you while i fuck you?”

you nodded frantically, another broken whimper slipping past your lips. “y-yeah—needed you—”

“yeah?” he smirked against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again—sloppier, deeper, making sure you’d never forget exactly who you belonged to.

his rhythm starts to stutter, hips snapping into you harder, sloppier, and you felt the way his body tensed, the way his grip on your hips turned bruising. he forced another helpless cry from you, and he groaned against your lips, drinking in every sound.

"fuck—fuck," katsuki whined, voice raw and desperate as he buried himself deep inside you, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot and ragged, his lips brushing against your own as he lost himself in you. "you feel so goddamn good—s'fuckin’ tight, baby—"

you knew that tone—knew the way his voice cracked when he felt needy, when he was so fucking close to cumming. you loved when he got like this, when all his control slipped away and he was nothing but whiny, desperate need.

"katsuki—" you gasped, nails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. "i'm—i'm close, i'm so close, wanna cum together—"

his grip tightened, a strangled groan ripping from his throat as he snapped his hips into you, his pace turning desperate chasing both of your highs. "fuck, yeah? c'mon, baby— wanna feel you cum, wanna fuckin' feel you all over my cock—"

his next thrust sent you over, body locking up as the heat coiled tight in your belly and snapped all at once. your moan shattered into a cry as your whole body trembled, clenching around him so hard its about to break him.

“oh, fuck—” katsuki choked, eyes rolling back as he lost it completely, slamming into you one last time before burying himself into your warm, wet pussy. his whole body shook, breath stuttering as he spilled inside you, groaning out your name like a prayer.

he kept thrusting—shallow, drawn-out rolls of his hips, like he never wanted to stop feeling you, even as he came down from his high. his forehead pressed against yours again, his breath heavy, his body spent.

for a moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths, your bodies still tangled, clinging to each other as you both came down from your highs. katsuki was still holding you, his grip tight but no longer desperate—just grounding. 

then, with a deep exhale, katsuki finally pulled out, rolling onto his side and gathering you against his chest. his arms wrapped around you securely, his large hand rubbing slow, lazy circles into your back. you felt his eyes scan over you with something softer than before—something almost tender.

“you alright, sweets?”

you nodded, still catching your breath, but the way your body trembled slightly didn’t escape him. he scoffs, sitting up just enough to lean over and press soft kisses to your damp forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“liar,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it. only warmth. “you cried, y’know.”

you let out a breathy laugh, snuggling closer. “you were relentless.”

he clicked his tongue, one of his hands finding the back of your head, his fingers slipping into your hair, the other resting on the small of your back, holding you close.

you melted into his chest, sighing against his skin. “you’re so warm…”

he smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “duh. i’m literally made of explosions, dumbass.”

you lightly smacked his chest, making him chuckle. but his teasing quickly faded as he tilted your chin up, crimson eyes searching yours. his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away the last remnants of your overstimulated tears.

“seriously, though,” he murmured, quieter now. “you okay?”

your heart squeezed at how gentle he was being. how, despite how rough he could be, how demanding, he never once forgot to take care of you afterward. you leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm.

“i’m perfect,” you smiled sleepily. “because of you.”

“tch. sappy little shit," katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, looking away. his ears definitely got redder.  “you sure, though? i didn’t—y’know… go too hard?”

you hummed, tilting your head to press a lazy kiss to his jaw. “i'm fine, katsuki. i promise." 

he just huffed, shifting to grab a towel from the nightstand. “yeah, well, you better be. was holdin’ back just for you.”

you snorted. “that was you holding back?”

katsuki shot you a look but didn’t argue. instead, he started cleaning you up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. he was quiet as he worked, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“…was it really okay?” his voice was quieter now, hesitant in a way he rarely was.

you cupped his cheek, running your thumb over the sharp line of his jaw. “yes. i’d tell you if it wasn’t, katsuki.”

his crimson eyes searched yours for a long moment before he finally exhaled, tension melting from his shoulders. “good.”

he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips, lingering there as if he never wanted to pull away.

“cause next time, i’m makin’ you cry even harder.”

you groaned, shoving his face away as he laughed, the sound deep and full of warmth. 

katsuki didn’t say anything for a moment after—just stared at you, his expression completely unguarded. no sharp smirks, no cocky grins—just raw, unfiltered devotion.

he stared at you like you’d just hung the damn moon. like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.  

you reached up to brush a few stray strands of hair from his forehead, and he caught your wrist midair, holding it for just a second before bringing it to his lips. the kiss he pressed against your palm was barely there, but it sent warmth blooming in your chest.

“you’re lookin’ at me funny,” you murmured, voice drowsy.

katsuki huffed a quiet laugh, but he didn’t look away. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you smiled lazily back at him. “like i just saved a bunch of kids from a burning building or something."

his smirk was faint, more of a ghost of amusement than anything. he pressing lazy kisses along your wrist, trailing them down to the inside of your palm. “you didn’t save a bunch of kids. you’re just—you. and i dunno what the hell i’d do without that."

your chest ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but before you could say anything, katsuki pulled you in even closer, pressing his face against your shoulder, like he was trying to hide.

“go to sleep,” he grumbled, voice muffled against your skin. “say any dumb shit about it, and i’ll smother you.”

you couldn’t help but smile as you curled against him, feeling the way his arms locked around you just a little tighter. “mhm. goodnight, katsuki.”

and then you smiled—sleepy, content, completely at ease in his arms.

katsuki stiffened. just for a second. just enough for you to feel the way his breath hitched, the way his hold on you tightened like he was trying to keep himself together.

fuck.

that damn smile. that look on your face. like he was your whole world. like you trusted him. like you loved him.

he clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly through his nose, like that would do anything to calm the way his heart was fucking pounding.

"goodnight." 

he was fucked. absolutely, completely, and hopelessly fucked.

because thats when katsuki bakugo realized he was in love with you. and he couldn't do anything about it.

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

⋆˚࿔ tags: ˚⋆ @kalulakunundrum @ch3rryjampi3 @lotusstarr @aranikai @emmab3mma @yannvi @gabby-ha @twoplayergaymers @xanneeeyyyy @akiii143 @ceeriusly-dumb @beabamboo @butlereyepatchbunny @qyuin @ocharavitys @dragonscribble @jimabbenamara @g0dawnlita @sourgrapesthings @seraphiicallyy @aawwq @kaybug88

[megumismyhusband]

bakugo hates valentine’s day.

okay, maybe “hate” is a strong word, but he definitely doesn’t like it. it’s annoying. people are all sappy and stupid, the halls are full of pink and red decorations, and worst of all—you’re standing there with an armful of chocolates, love letters, and little gifts like some kind of valentine’s royalty.

he watches from across the hallway, arms crossed, scowl deep. every time someone hands you something, his jaw clenches a little tighter.

“tch. the hell’s wrong with people,” he mutters under his breath.

kirishima, who’s unfortunately standing next to him, grins. “jealous, bro?”

“shut up.”

but yeah, maybe he is.

it’s just—why the hell are all these extras giving you things? like, sure, you’re great—sweet, smart, way too nice for your own good—but that doesn’t mean every random idiot in school gets to shower you with gifts. you’re not theirs to spoil.

if anything, only he should be doing that.

not that he ever has. but that’s beside the point.

his eyes narrow as another guy hands you a box of chocolates, and you flash them that bright, grateful smile of yours. bakugo huffs, glaring daggers into the side of the poor bastard’s head.

“dumbass,” he grumbles, kicking the floor. “what’s so special about today anyway? if you like someone, you should just—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek.

kirishima raises an eyebrow. “just what?”

“nothing.”

he exhales sharply, watching as you struggle to carry all your gifts, fumbling as you try to pick up a small card that falls from the pile. before he even realizes he’s moving, he’s there, grabbing the card and shoving it back into your arms.

“thanks, bakugo!” you beam at him. “this is crazy, right? i didn’t think i’d get this many.”

he clicks his tongue, looking away. “yeah. real crazy.”

you tilt your head, blinking at him. “you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be?”

“…you just look kinda mad.”

“i always look mad.”

you laugh. “true.”

his fingers twitch. he could just—ugh, this is stupid. he could just give you something right now, claim his damn spot before any of these extras get the wrong idea.

but then you shift the pile of valentines in your arms, your sleeve slipping just enough for him to notice—one of the bracelets he gave you months ago still snug around your wrist.

…fine. maybe these other losers got their chance today.

but he’s the one who’s always gonna be around, valentine’s day or not.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Valentine's Day Special - First Chocolates

“Um… Happy Valentine’s Day, Bakugou!”

Bakugou gawked at you like you had grown two heads. There you were, in his bedroom, hands outstretched to offer him your best homemade chocolates. You knew nobody ever bothered to give Bakugou chocolates before, so you didn’t know what to expect next despite knowing the boy better than anyone. 

From his seat at his desk, Bakugou took the cute pink box from your hands and gingerly opened it, popping a chocolate into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 

“Well?” you asked. “Do you like it?”

“‘Course I do,” he spat. “But… why’re you giving me these?”

You tilted your head quizzically. “…Because we’re best friends?”

Bakugou paused, scrutinizing your answer.

“You give any of your other ‘best friends’ delicious chocolates?” Bakugou asked, sneering at the thought. 

“I did give some to Kirishima, Todoroki, and Midoriya…” Bakugou’s face darkened with every name you listed. “But I made yours extra special! Because we’re so close!”

Bakugou’s face slowly broke into a wide grin. “S’that so? Sounds about right! Next year, you don’t gotta give those guys chocolates. Just give ‘em all to me.”

Bakugou spent the rest of the day eating your chocolates in front of all his lonely and single friends whenever they came to bother him. He also paraded you around Kirishima, Todoroki, and Midoriya in particular, often walking up to these boys and smacking his lips as he chewed through your super special chocolate to make his intentions quite clear. 

Of course, the Bakusquad swarmed Bakugou in the dorms and asked him one very important question that even Bakugou was still wondering about. 

“Are they friendship chocolates?” Ashido asked. “Or romance chocolates?”

“What, it ain’t obvious?” Bakugou replied, having no clue himself. “Such a dumb question.”

Bakugou looked away with a huff, but he could never give the Bakusquad a straight answer. Whenever they interrogated you for details, Bakugou not-so-discreetly glanced over his shoulder to check your response. 

You merely replied, “It’s a secret.”

This frustrated the Bakusquad (and Bakugou) to no end, but you weren’t quite yet ready to tell your true feelings to anyone, at least not in public. It wasn’t until much later that same day when Bakugou caught you for some alone time in your bedroom that he brought up the question again. 

“Hey…” Bakugou said, sitting alongside you on your bed with a concerned expression. “Next month, I’m gonna totally outdo the gift you just gave me. But don’t go taking gifts from other guys. I’m not gonna give anything to other people either. Remember, it’s just gotta be our thing, ya know?”

You hid your face a little in your hands to cover your embarrassment from his sweet statement. “Oh, okay! Anything for my best friend!”

“Good.” Bakugou steeled himself to say his next piece. “That means we’re officially exclusive from now on. And the only gifts we’re gonna give each other are gonna be special, right?”

He was genuinely wondering about your answer judging by the bit of desperation behind his words. He was so cute sometimes. You needed to tell him the truth.

You beamed at him playfully. “Well of course! I can’t just give everyone romance chocolates, now can I?”

Bakugou appeared surprised for a second before breaking out into a satisfied and proud grin.

“‘Course not,” Bakugou said, his heart pounding as he leaned over to eagerly kiss you.

(I still exist! I have just been busy with real life and I am sick. Thankfully I was able to get this post out in time!)

[thebunnednun]

Run Away With Me

★Pairing:Aged up!Pro Hero!Boyfriend!Katsuki Bakugou x Pro Hero!Girlfriend!Reader

Synopsis: It's Valentines Day. You and Katsuki can't wait to get home.

Warning: MDNI!!! Extreme Flirting/Fluff, Wc: Short like his temper, No ageless blogs!

Based on my Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic. This is the first installment of a Valentines day series. Stay tuned.

Taglist from both of my master lists because I need to feed the cats: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r, @icey-wonders, @adherethecomingofage, @karaartioli-blog, @meoweoeoeosme, @faithisxreading, @faithisidking, @oh-kayyy-stan-bts, @shortie-chocolate, @rosaline756. @sweetlike-sugarplum. @aespie, @dancingqueen276, @erensbbg, @lillizxzz, @1chaerry,

@valscodblog, @willnetries

The soft glow of fairy lights cast a warm, rosy hue over your bedroom as Michelle leaned in, steadying your chin between her fingers. 

"Stay still," she murmured, expertly gliding the eyeliner along your lash line. 

You obeyed—barely. The body glitter dusted across your collarbones and arms caught the light as you shifted, and Michelle huffed a laugh.

"You’re so fidgety," she teased. 

You pout. "Are you sure this whole look isn’t too much? I feel like a teenager playing dress-up."

Michelle didn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, she tapped your nose with her fluffy brush, making you squeak. "You look stunning. Katsuki’s gonna short-circuit."

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you quickly turned your attention to the items scattered across your princess-style vanity. The iridescent hot pink heart-shaped bag sat next to your matching fiery nails, waiting to be slung over your shoulder. Your chunky baby pink wedge heels peeked out from under your black punk-rock lace dress. Everything was perfect. 

Too perfect.

As if sensing your nerves, Michelle leaned back on the stool, her orange bandeau dress hugging her curves effortlessly. Her red nails drummed against the vanity, and she smirked. "If anything goes sideways, call me. Daddy and I will come pick you up."

You groaned.

"Calling Kirishima that is still weird."

She only laughed, twisting one of her perfectly styled curls around her finger. "You and Katsuki will find your own thing. Give it time." You huffed, fingers playing with the hem of your black lace dress. 

"I just feel… I don’t know. Over the top? Like I’m playing dress-up or something." Michelle didn’t even pause.

"Over the top? Girl, please. You look fine as hell." She gestured towards the mirror, where your reflection stared back at you—soft yet bold, playful yet elegant. Contrasting with your usual workwear, making the whole ensemble feel different.

New.

Exciting.

Michelle, ever the fashion expert, admired her handiwork with a satisfied nod. Her own look was just as flawless— her glossy red nails catching the light as she adjusted one of her gold earrings. Her twist-out was perfection, not a single curl out of place. 

You were tempted to ask her to kiss your cheek, just to leave an imprint of her perfect lip combo for good luck, but you also knew how long it had taken her to get ready.

Instead, you sighed and wiggled your toes, feeling the slight pressure of the glittering heels you weren’t quite used to yet. "Are you sure this look is, like… in style? I feel like I time-traveled back to the 2000s." 

Michelle smirked, leaning forward to prop her elbows on her knees. "You kidding? The early y2k aesthetic is making a comeback. And besides, it’s your life. You get to wear whatever you want."

That made your stomach flip. A warmth spread through your chest, different from nerves, but just as intense. You sighed, leaning back against the vanity chair, eyes drifting to the small teddy bear on your bed. He mimics his dad with that orange and black outfit. Just like Katsuki. 

Your Katsuki. 

A tiny, stupidly fond smile tugged at your lips. 

"Wonder what they’re up to right now…"

—

The apartment smelled like expensive cologne, caramel, and a hint of coconut, thanks to the small arsenal of grooming products Kirishima had dragged into Katsuki’s bathroom. The overhead lights cast a sharp glow over the counter, illuminating the various bottles of cologne, hair gel, and skin-care products Kirishima had convinced Katsuki to try. (Which he reluctantly did, for you).

Kirishima, dressed in a sharp red and black tux that looked way too good for someone wearing Ninja Turtle socks, held up two cologne bottles. 

"Alright, bro, decision time. Smoky and rugged or clean and fresh?"

Katsuki, already on edge, exhaled sharply through his nose. His leg bounced as he adjusted the black waistcoat of his hot pink and black tux, the bow tie at his throat feeling like it was actively trying to strangle him. He still wasn’t used to wearing something this polished, this formal—but he wanted to look good for you.

"Just—fuckin’ pick one," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kirishima clicked his tongue. "You’re lucky I got taste." He grabbed the smoky cologne and gave Katsuki a solid three spritzes before he could protest.

"Oi—!" Katsuki hissed, glaring.

"Trust me," Kirishima grinned, unbothered. "Now, lips—coconut balm, here you go." He tossed it over, and Katsuki caught it with ease, though his scowl deepened.

As if things couldn’t get more overwhelming, the speakerphone buzzed with chaos.

"LISTEN TO ME, BRO!" Denki’s voice was the loudest, crackling through the device. 

"Confidence is key! You gotta hit her with the look."

Mina cackled. "Oh my God, do NOT listen to him! Katsuki, just tell her she’s beautiful. We all know you think so." "Yeah, dude, don’t overthink it," Sero chimed in, amused. "Just be yourself.” 

“Or a less feral version."

Katsuki’s jaw tensed. Easier said than done. His pulse pounded in his ears. He reluctantly unclenched his fists from his knees. This wasn’t some battlefield. It wasn’t even a stupid mission. It was just a fucking date. 

With you.

Fuck, his nerves felt louder than explosions.

Kirishima, noticing the tightness in his shoulders, finally stepped in. He placed a firm hand on Katsuki’s shoulder and squeezed. Katsuki looked up into unblinking garnet and sighed through his nose. 

"Dude. Breathe. You love her, right?"

Katsuki swallowed hard. Love. The word settled in his chest, heavy but honest. 

He nodded once.

"Then remember that. That’s all that matters. If things feel weird, if the place sucks, if the whole night goes sideways, just leave. Do something else. You two make your own fun, anyway." Katsuki let out a slow breath. Kirishima was right. This was for you. 

It wasn’t about perfect execution—it was about being together.

"Three things," Kirishima continued, grinning. "Be yourself. Compliment her. And communicate. Talk, dude. You’re only gonna get better at this if you open your mouth."

Katsuki rolled his eyes but let the advice sink in. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet. 

"Let’s go before I go into fuckin' cardiac arrest."

Kirishima whooped. "That’s the spirit!" He slung an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder as they grabbed the gifts—flowers, small personal surprises—before making their way out.

Upstairs, you were waiting.

—

A sharp knock echoed through the apartment.

Michelle, already smirking, turned her head dramatically toward the door. “Hmmm… wonder who that could be?”

You rolled your eyes, lips quirking up as you reached for your bag. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the dates we’ve been getting ready for the past hour?”

Before you could stand, Michelle grabbed your chin with one hand and, with a single practiced motion, swiped a generous coat of cherry gloss over your lips. The scent was sweet, rich, and just a little sticky.

“There. Perfection,” she declared before tugging you up to your feet. “Phone, purse?”

You patted your iridescent hot pink heart-shaped bag before nodding. “Check.”

Michelle, always prepared, already had her own red heart-shaped purse slung over her shoulder. She shot you a wink before making her way to the door. You heard the click of the lock, then—

“Hey, beautiful.”

Kirishima’s voice was warm, full of easy affection as he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Michelle’s cheek. She hummed in approval, tilting her head up slightly like she was already expecting it.

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman tonight?” Michelle mused, looping an arm around his bicep as she gave him an exaggerated once-over. “Damn, Eiji, you clean up nice.”

Kirishima chuckled, standing a little straighter. “Had to match my date, obviously.”

You watched their interaction fondly before Kirishima finally turned his attention to you. His smile widened. “And wow, you—” He paused, eyes briefly scanning your outfit before he let out a brotherly smile. 

“You look amazing.”

Feeling playful, you gave him a small, teasing bow. “Why, thank you. You’re looking sharp yourself.”

Kirishima beamed—right before something hit him square in the arm.

“Ow—” He barely had time to react before a very familiar explosive presence stepped into the doorway behind him, scowling.

Katsuki’s hands were full—flowers, a neatly wrapped gift, and something tucked under his arm. He looked at you, then at the door, then back at you, blinking.

You gave him a small wave.

Katsuki blinked again.

Then, without a word, he tore his gaze away and scanned your apartment like it was foreign territory.

Your apartment was a cozy, eclectic mix of nostalgia, comfort, and personality—a space that felt undeniably yours. The living room was a reflection of that, bursting with the soft, warm hues of early 2000s aesthetics mixed with fan-sent decorations and personal touches that made the place feel lived-in.

The walls were painted in a soft, rosy blush, giving the room a dreamy warmth that always seemed to glow, even at night. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books, cute trinkets, and memorabilia—some from your past, some gifts from fans, and some just random knick-knacks Michelle had convinced you to buy during one of your many shopping sprees.

A large, fluffy pink area rug covered most of the floor, plush beneath your feet, a stark contrast to the sleek black coffee table in the center of the room. The table itself was decorated with small candles, a glass tray filled with assorted crystal charms, and a few scattered magazines—some featuring you in your rising pro-hero career, others filled with celebrity gossip and fashion trends.

Against one wall sat a sleek white entertainment center, housing a large flat-screen TV mounted above it. Below, there were neatly stacked DVDs (a mix of action flicks, romance movies, and animated classics), along with a pink Hello Kitty gaming console that Michelle had gotten you as a joke but that you actually adored. A tiny disco ball hung off the corner of the shelf, catching light from the floor lamp nearby, sending tiny glimmers across the room whenever you moved.

“Uh, you can put that down wherever,” you offered, suppressing a smile. “Thanks, by the way.”

His jaw shifted slightly, but he nodded, stepping inside as you moved to close the door behind him. The scent of his cologne—smoky, warm, and utterly him—lingered in the air as he passed you, and you swallowed, a tiny warmth curling in your stomach.

Meanwhile, Kirishima, still standing by Michelle, sighed dramatically.

“Can I come in, or do I have to stand in the hallway like a weirdo?”

Michelle turned, one perfectly arched brow raised. 

“I don’t know… you kinda give off door-to-door ax murderer vibes.” Kirishima immediately turned red. 

“Wha—what?! I’m literally in a tux!”

“If anything, that makes it worse,” Michelle mused, tapping a perfectly manicured finger to her chin. 

“Handsome stranger? Deranged killer? I could go either way.”

Kirishima groaned, running a hand down his face. “I swear, every time I visit, I leave more flustered than when I came.” Michelle patted his chest like she was proud. “Good. Keeps you on your toes.”

He exhales in defeat before letting her drag him into the kitchen for some water and to accept his ‘gram basket’—which you were sure was filled with an assortment of thoughtful snacks and homemade goodies.

That left you and Katsuki.

He was still standing there, hands now empty but stiff at his sides. His sharp red eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

The weight of the evening settled between you.

Feeling just a little shy, you lifted a hand again in a smaller wave.

He still didn’t wave back—because he looked a little stuck. But he did take a breath, then finally walked over to the couch and sat down. You followed, smoothing out your dress before lowering yourself beside him.

The couch was the real star of the space—big, soft, and overstuffed, covered in a variety of throw blankets and decorative pillows in shades of pink, cream, and deep wine red. Some of the pillows had cute sayings embroidered on them, like "Princess Energy Only," while others had sequins that flipped to reveal different colors when you ran your hand over them. One of them, a gift from a fan, had your hero name ‘Tempest’ embroidered in swirling gold thread.

At the corner of the room sat a vintage-style record player, next to a small stack of vinyl records—some gifted, some collected from your own adventures in the city. A neon pink heart-shaped light was mounted above it, casting a soft, romantic glow over the area.

Near the entrance, a coat rack held a mix of jackets, scarves, and one of Michelle’s many oversized tote bags, always full of who-knew-what. A small glass table sat beside it, topped with a bowl filled with candy, spare keys, and an assortment of hair ties and lip glosses for quick grabs before heading out.

For a second, you both just sat there.

Nervous energy filled the air, but it wasn’t bad—just… heavy. Like there was too much to say and no idea where to start. You fiddled with the zipper of your purse. “You smell nice,” you murmured.

Katsuki, who had just leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, froze.

A beat passed.

Then—a very quiet, very flustered,

 “...Thanks.”

And just like that, the tension cracked, replaced with something softer.

Katsuki shifts beside you, adjusting his grip on the small but carefully wrapped box in his hands. His shoulders are stiff, and his red eyes flicker between you and the gift, like he's still debating if he should give it to you now or wait until later.

Then, in true Bakugou fashion, he just holds it toward you, clearing his throat.

“Here,” he grumbles. “It’s okay if you open it now or later.”

Your lips twitch into a knowing smile as you accept the package, feeling the weight of it in your hands. But before you can even start untying the delicate ribbon, he shifts again, like he’s got something else to say but doesn’t quite know how to get it out. He exhales sharply, running a tense hand through his styled hair, before finally blurting, 

“And… I’m sorry for bein’ so tight-lipped earlier.” His jaw clenches, and he looks to the side, not quite meeting your gaze. “I just… I really think you look beautiful, and I’m trying not to be some weirdo by starin’.”

For a moment, you just blink at him, caught off guard by the rare, unfiltered compliment. But then, your grin grows wider, and a small, amused laugh bubbles out of you.

“Katsuki,” you say, soft but teasing, “It’s okay. That’s literally the whole purpose of the outfit.” You gesture to yourself with a flourish, making the iridescent hot pink bag on your lap shimmer in the light.

“I mean, I didn’t think you were a hot pink tux kinda guy either, but here we are.”

That gets him to finally look at you again, his expression both flustered and annoyed as a faint pink dusts his cheeks.

“Tch—got a tip from Michelle,” he admits, adjusting his waistcoat like it’s suddenly suffocating him.

You nod, knowingly. “Ah, that makes sense.”

He huffs before finally straightening up, reaching to grab something else he had tucked under his arm—a bouquet wrapped in crisp, delicate paper. The scent of fresh roses and sweet pea blooms fills the space between you as he carefully hands it over.

“Here,” he says, quieter this time, eyes flicking between your expression and the flowers. 

“This one’s… for you.”

You take the bouquet carefully, fingers brushing over the soft petals, heart warming at the gesture. But before you can even say anything, he’s already reaching for another item—a second bouquet, wrapped in warm orange tones.

“And this one’s for Michelle,” he adds, nodding toward the kitchen.

You glance toward the doorway, where Michelle is still playfully toying with Kirishima, laughing about something that’s got him blushing down to his collar.

You can’t help but smile as you look back at him. “She’s gonna love it,” you say, tucking the bouquet against your chest before looking back at him. “And… thank you, Katsuki. Really.”

He just grunts, scratching the back of his neck, clearly still not used to receiving gratitude so directly from you. But there’s no mistaking the way his eyes soften slightly as he watches you admire the flowers he picked out just for you.

You’re still admiring the bouquet when Michelle reemerges from the kitchen, Kirishima trailing behind her, looking thoroughly flustered but grinning nonetheless.

“Ooh, flowers for me?” Michelle coos as you hand over the orange-toned bouquet. She gives Katsuki an approving nod. “Well, well, look at you, Mr. Romantic. You boys are starting strong tonight.”

Kirishima chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I told you Bakugou could be thoughtful when he tries.”

“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbles, crossing his arms but not actually denying it.

Michelle leans into her flowers, inhaling deeply before flashing Kirishima a playful smile. “Alright, Red, you get a pass—for now.” She shoots you a wink, making you snicker as she carefully sets her bouquet on the kitchen counter. As everyone starts gathering their things, you grab your heart-shaped bag and your phone, making sure everything is in place before turning to the group. 

“Alright, so, are we taking my car or—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Immediately no.”

“I’d rather die.”

Kirishima, Michelle, and Katsuki shut that down so fast it’s almost comedic. Michelle holds up a hand like she’s cutting off an intrusive thought.

“I’m not even entertaining that as a real suggestion.”

Kirishima lets out a lighthearted laugh, shaking his head. “I think your car deserves a night of rest. You know, for all the hard work it’s been put through.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki deadpans, grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“Permanently.”

You gasp dramatically, clutching your chest. “Excuse me? The disrespect for my precious lemon!”

Your beloved, beat-up, barely-roadworthy 2001 Saturn has been through hell and back—scraped up, spray-painted in places, sporting a horrendous DIY tint job that looks more like someone just slapped black plastic wrap on the windows. It rattles when it starts, wheezes like a geriatric smoker in the winter, and has exactly one functioning window. But damn it, it’s yours, and you’ve refused every single one of Katsuki’s (very generous) offers to replace it.

“That thing ain’t a lemon—it’s a damn biohazard,” Katsuki grumbles as he grabs his jacket. “You’re lucky it hasn’t exploded yet.”

Michelle snorts, shaking her head. “Girl, I love you, but I’m not risking my life in that thing tonight. My heels are too cute to die in a tragic automobile accident.”

You roll your eyes. “You guys are just haters.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that,” Katsuki mutters before nodding toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Downstairs, his very not-biohazardous orange Ferrari is waiting in its designated parking space, sleek and polished under the garage’s dim lighting. A few spots over, Kirishima’s new red Mustang sits with a shine so pristine you’re sure he’s been babying it. After all, the only reason he even got the car was because Michelle made it very clear she wasn’t hopping on the back of his motorcycle in this dress.

You glance between the two luxury vehicles and huff. 

“You guys are soooo boring with your functional, ‘safe’, and expensive cars.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we don’t wanna die,” Katsuki says, tossing his keys in his hand. “Now get in.”

With a dramatic sigh, you slide into the passenger seat of his Ferrari, Michelle and Kirishima heading for the Mustang. The second your seatbelt clicks into place, Katsuki turns to you, expression softening just a little.

“…You ready for this?”

You glance over at him, at the way his grip tightens on the steering wheel like he’s trying to shake off nerves of his own. A small smile tugs at your lips as you nod.

“With you? Always.”

The moment you arrive at the restaurant, you're hit with the flashing strobe of camera lights and the chaotic blur of the city nightlife. The valet barely has time to open the car door before people start calling Katsuki’s name—photographers, fans, and even a few reporters eager to get a shot of Dynamight on his high-profile Valentine’s date.

“Damn it,” Katsuki mutters under his breath, jaw clenching as he instinctively shields you with his body. His hand hovers near your lower back, firm but hesitant, like he wants to pull you in closer but doesn’t want to overstep.

You can already hear the murmurs and gasps.

“Is that Tempest?” “They look good together.” “She’s been making headlines lately—did you see her last rescue?” “I thought she’d be dating someone quieter…” “They’re so different. I wonder how that works?”

Your fingers twitch against the strap of your bag, shoulders tensing as a flash goes off right in your face. ‘Okay, wow. That’s bright.’ You blink rapidly, trying to shake off the afterimage burned into your vision.

Kirishima and Michelle pull up behind you in the Mustang, and within seconds, Michelle is at your side, looping her arm through yours as if she can sense your rising discomfort. “Ignore ‘em, babe,” she murmurs, voice dripping with practiced ease. “They’re just mad they ain’t you.”

You huff out a quiet laugh, but it doesn’t quite settle the unease twisting in your stomach.

Katsuki, on the other hand, looks pissed. His brows are furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glares at the paparazzi like they personally offended him. You reach for his hand, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. He glances down, expression softening just a fraction before he squeezes back.

“We’re already here,” you whisper. “Might as well enjoy it, right?”

He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders. “Tch. Yeah.”

Together, the four of you push past the flashing lights and noise, stepping into the grand entrance of the restaurant.

Inside, the atmosphere is nothing short of luxurious. The air is thick with the aroma of rich spices and sizzling gourmet dishes. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the dimly lit space, illuminating pristine white tablecloths, towering floral arrangements, and sleek leather chairs. Celebrities, politicians, and high-profile heroes are scattered throughout, dressed in designer ensembles, murmuring over glasses of expensive wine.

A hostess, dressed in a polished black ensemble, greets you with a dazzling smile. “Welcome to Lumière. Right this way.”

As you follow her through the restaurant, you can feel the eyes on you. Some subtle, others not so much. You and Katsuki aren’t exactly low-profile at this point—especially not together. You hear the hush of whispered gossip, the occasional glance thrown your way, and the distinct click of cameras from people who definitely aren’t just taking pictures of their food.

Katsuki’s grip on your hand tightens.

You glance at him and grimace. “You’re squeezing the life outta my fingers.”

“Shit. Sorry,” he mutters, loosening his hold.

You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

The four of you are led to an elegant booth tucked near the large glass windows overlooking the city. The nighttime skyline glows with neon lights and passing car beams, a stark contrast to the quiet, intimate space inside. You slide into the seat next to Katsuki, smoothing down your dress as a waiter approaches.

“Good evening,” he greets, setting down the menus. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

Michelle orders a cocktail, Kirishima gets a whiskey on the rocks, and you request a sparkling juice, feeling like you might need something refreshing to handle the stares still lingering in your direction. Katsuki just grunts, “Same as hers,” jerking his chin toward you.

The waiter nods before slipping away, leaving you and Katsuki to glance at each other, both of you sitting stiff as boards. Michelle and Kirishima seem perfectly at ease, chatting away like they don’t even notice the atmosphere. But you and Katsuki? You can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

You clear your throat, trying to shake the nerves. “So… you look really nice.”

Katsuki tugs at his bowtie like it’s strangling him. “You too.”

A pause.

You glance at him. He glances at you. Then you both look away, awkward as hell.

Kirishima snickers. “Man, you two are so new at this.” Michelle sips her drink, nodding in agreement. 

“Painfully so.”

You groan, dropping your face into your hands. “Don’t remind me.” Katsuki scowls at his menu. 

“Shut the hell up.”

You peek at him from between your fingers and snicker. “What? You can take down villains like it’s nothing, but a date makes you break out in hives?” He clicks his tongue, gripping the menu a little too tight. “Ain’t my fault there’s a damn spotlight on us right now.”

And yeah, you do get it. The pressure, the stares, the constant expectation to perform. It’s exhausting.

The weight of every pair of eyes in the restaurant presses down on you like a thick, suffocating fog. Whispers swirl around the room, slipping through the air like tendrils of smoke, curling around you and Katsuki in an unshakable haze.

You can hear them—people murmuring about your outfits, about your relationship, about whether or not you fit together. As if they fucking know what the two of you have been through together.

Cameras from discreetly lifted phones flash in your direction, capturing stolen moments of your date like you’re some kind of exhibit.

Your stomach twists. ‘We’ll be on the internet tomorrow.’ There’s no avoiding it. Headline after headline dissecting your body language, your facial expressions, the way Katsuki’s knee bounces under the table like he’s trying to shake off the nerves crawling under his skin.

You glance at him. He looks miserable.

Katsuki’s shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched so tight you think he might crack a tooth. His fingers twitch against his menu, gripping it like a lifeline. He’s trying so hard to keep his cool, to ignore the way people are practically gawking, waiting for him to snap or make a scene. You know he wants to drag you out of here, shield you from all the eyes dissecting your every move.

But he’s staying.

For you.

In Katsuki’s head, he’s telling himself to just grit and bear it. To be strong for you. He doesn’t want to ruin this—your first Valentine’s Day together. He wants to be the kind of boyfriend who can take you to fancy places, treat you to a night you’ll remember forever. He wants to try because he knows you deserve effort, deserve to be taken out, deserve to feel special.

But the people are unbearable.

And he can see it in your face—the way you’re trying to fake ease, the way your fingers tighten around your bag strap, the way you keep shifting in your seat like you just want to disappear.

His chest tightens. ‘This isn’t fun for either of us.’

But it doesn’t have to be this way. 

You sit up, leaning closer to whisper, “You wanna get outta here?”

Katsuki blinks, turning to you fully. 

“…What?”

You tilt your head toward the exit. 

“I mean, I know we’re supposed to be ‘classy’ and all, but this isn’t really us, is it?”

His eyes flicker between your face and the crowded restaurant. His fingers drum against the table before he finally exhales, nodding.

“Yeah. Let’s bounce.”

Without another word, you both stand up, drawing confused looks from the other two.

“Where are you guys—”

“We’re leaving,” Katsuki cuts in, already pulling out his wallet to toss more than enough cash on the table.

Michelle raises a brow but smirks. “About time.” Kirishima just laughs. “Enjoy your date, lovebirds.”

The moment Katsuki grabs your hand, the two of you don’t even hesitate. You’re up from your seats, fingers locked together, hearts pounding as you wordlessly decide—we’re out of here.

Kirshima’s laugh booms across the restaurant as he throws his fist in the air. “Yeah! That’s my boy!”

Michelle smirks over the rim of her glass, raising it in a toast to your escape. “Bout damn time,” she mutters before taking a sip, entirely unsurprised.

The cameras go off like fireworks, a rapid flicker of flashes as you and Katsuki make your break for it.

He doesn’t bother to hide his irritation, lifting his right hand to flip the paparazzi the middle finger. You just grin, holding up a peace sign as if this is some casual night out instead of a full-blown getaway.

Laughter bubbles up in your chest as you both burst through the doors, stepping into the crisp night air with wild grins. Your heels click against the pavement as you sprint beside him, hand in hand, breathless and exhilarated.

But together. 

Katsuki's orange Ferrari is somewhere in the valet lot, but neither of you care. You just run—away from the stares, the pressure, the expectation—until all that’s left is the sound of your laughter and the way your fingers fit so perfectly together.

Katsuki squeezes your hand. “So… where to?”

You grin. “The park.”

Katsuki’s car beeps from across the valet lot as he smashes the panic button, the lights flashing like a beacon in the night. You both spot it at the same time, making a beeline for the sleek, orange machine.

“You’re just lucky I snatched the keys back,” he grumbles, smirking as you shove his arm in response. Before you can reach for the door handle, he’s already there, pulling you back with a firm grip on your waist. 

“Oi. Lemme do it.”

You roll your eyes but let him open the door, a teasing smile playing on your lips as he steps aside dramatically to let you in. You slip into the seat, tossing your purse and phone into the back, watching as he rounds the front and slides into the driver’s seat with effortless ease.

The second the doors shut, the engine roars to life, and before you know it, Katsuki is tearing down the highway at a cool 73, the city lights blurring past. The roads are surprisingly empty, giving you both the perfect excuse to crank up the radio and belt out whatever song is playing, off-key and full volume, laughing between the lyrics.

It’s easy. It’s fun. 

It’s you two.

As the car weaves through the city center, he spots the park up ahead and, in true Katsuki fashion, completely disregards proper parking. He pulls right up to the entrance, puts the car in park, and before he can even kill the engine, you’re already unbuckling and throwing the door open.

You leap out, your heels clicking against the pavement before they sink slightly into the soft grass. With a wild grin, you take off into the open space, arms spread wide as you spin beneath the night sky. The crisp air fills your lungs, the distant city hum fading into the background.

Then you spot it—the unmistakable flash of spiky blond and hot pink barreling toward you.

With a shriek, you turn on your heel and run.

Your laughter rings through the park as you bolt toward the swings, the cool night air rushing past you. Katsuki is right behind you, his footsteps heavy against the grass, closing the distance faster than you’d like.

"You think you can outrun me?!" he taunts, his voice sharp with amusement.

You glance back over your shoulder, only to see him smirking—eyes locked onto you like a predator honing in on his prey. "I know I can!" you shoot back, breathless but grinning as you push your legs harder.

"Yeah?" Katsuki huffs, barely winded. "That why I'm about to catch your ass?"

You yelp, dodging left just as he reaches for you, barely slipping out of his grasp. "Cheater!" you cry, laughing as you pick up speed.

"Cheater? I'm just faster!"

The swings come into view, and with one final burst of energy, you throw yourself forward, landing in one of the seats with a triumphant squeal. You grip the chains, panting, a wild grin plastered on your face. 

"Safe!"

Katsuki slows to a stop right in front of you, planting his hands on his hips as he glares down at you, feigning offense. "Safe?" he scoffs. "What, this a game of tag now?"

You nod, grinning as you pump your legs slightly, making the swing rock. "And guess what? You lost."

His eyes narrow, and before you can react, he grabs the chains of your swing, stilling you completely. 

"Lost?" he repeats, voice low, teasing. "I let you win."

You snort. "Oh, surrre. And I’m the number one hero."

Katsuki leans in, close enough that you can see the mischief dancing in his crimson eyes. "Yeah, well," he mutters,

"You are my number one."

Your breath catches, your fingers tightening around the chains as heat blooms across your face. You look away, biting your lip.

"That was corny as hell."

He clicks his tongue. "Whatever." But you can see the smirk tugging at his lips as he lets go of the swing and takes the seat next to you.

For a moment, you both just sit there, the world fading away, the city lights twinkling in the distance. Then, you glance at him and murmur,

"I like this way more than the restaurant."

Katsuki exhales, his fingers flexing against the swing’s chains. 

"Same."

Katsuki exhales, tilting his head back slightly as he swings, boots barely skimming the ground. You watch him for a moment, the way the park lights cast a golden hue over his skin, the sharp angles of his face softening in the cool night air. Then, without a word, he shifts forward on the swing and angles his head toward you. 

"Hey," he mutters, voice quieter now. "Look."

You blink, sitting up straighter as he drops his chin and rakes a hand through his hair, pushing the blond strands back to reveal the freshly shaved undercut. Your breath hitches as you take in the sight of your name, sharp and precise, carved into his blonde like it was always meant to be there.

Your heart stutters.

"No way."

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his head lowered, waiting for your reaction like he’s bracing for impact. But all you do is lift a hand, fingertips ghosting over the etched letters. He shudders under your touch, and you grin, trailing your nails lightly over the buzzed hair, tracing each letter with reverence.

"You did this today?" you murmur, voice softer now.

He huffs.

"Yeah."

Your fingers linger a little longer before you shift closer, pressing your forehead against his. He exhales through his nose, shoulders visibly relaxing as your warmth sinks into him. His hands come up, gripping the chains of his swing tightly like he needs to ground himself.

"So," you whisper, the words brushing against his lips, "Should I do the same?"

Katsuki pulls back slightly, eyes flicking up to yours. "Tch. It’s your hair," he grumbles, "But I’d rather get you more of my merch than go cutting anythin' into it." You huff, lips twisting in playful disappointment. 

"Lame answer, Suki."

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he tilts his head back again, eyes drifting up to the sky. You follow his gaze, watching the stars twinkle in the vast stretch of darkness. For a moment, neither of you speak. The world is quiet except for the distant hum of the city, the soft creak of the swings, and the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Then, Katsuki shifts slightly, just enough that his pinky brushes against yours where your hands rest on the swing’s chain. It’s small, barely there, but it sends a warmth through your chest that rivals the stars above.

“Damn it, I am a grown woman!” you shout, frustration and flustered warmth bubbling over as you grab his pinky with your whole hand, locking him in your grip.

Katsuki barks out a laugh, the sound breaking through the quiet night, raw and unfiltered. His shoulders shake, eyes crinkling at the corners as he throws his head back in full-bodied amusement. You swear you can feel the vibration of his laughter in your chest.

Still grinning, he exhales through his nose and flexes his fingers in your grasp. 

“Hey… can I just—” He hesitates for a beat, then his voice drops, almost sheepish. 

“Lemme just hold your hand, yeah?”

You huff like it’s a grand request but nod anyway.

“You better keep holding it, even when you get sweaty.”

Katsuki snorts before swiftly wiping his palm against his pant leg.

“As you wish, princess” he grumbles, but then he’s threading his fingers through yours properly, interlocking them like it’s second nature. Like it’s always been meant to be this way.

And God, it feels good.

Feels right.

Like warmth spreading from your fingertips to the deepest parts of your chest. Like everything in the world finally clicked into place with one simple touch.

The two of you just sit there, breathing, hands locked together, letting the moment settle between you like a whispered secret. Then, slowly, inevitably, you both look at each other at the same time.

Your stomach plummets.

Your heart does the Cha Cha Slide—full-on electric slide to the left, right, crisscross, and a double-time stomp straight into a mess of feelings you don’t know how to handle.

Katsuki isn’t faring any better. His ears are blood red, the heat creeping down his neck. His grip on your hand tightens minutely, like he’s afraid to let go. Those old war wounds on his heart aren’t doing any better either but what's a little tachycardia in the name of true love?

His hand is so warm and so clammy, but neither of you move to separate.

You just stare at each other, wide-eyed and breathless, and hold on tighter.

Refusing to let go.

You squeeze his hand lightly, your thumb brushing over the rough callouses on his palm before you murmur, "Y'know… you really do pull off pink pretty damn well."

Katsuki scoffs, rolling his eyes, but you catch the way the corner of his lips twitch upward. "Thanks." He shifts on the swing, still holding your hand, eyes flicking between your face and the Ferris wheel in the distance. 

"You—uh…" He clears his throat, voice dipping a little lower. "Your dress. I like it. The… vampire thing you got goin’ on."

You snicker, leaning into him with a playful nudge. "’S Gothic’’ or whatever the lady at the store said.”

Katsuki tilts his head, considering for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. That."

Conversation lulls into something easy and quiet, your fingers still laced together, swinging slightly with the motion of your legs. The park is mostly empty, save for the occasional couple strolling down the pathway, wrapped up in their own little world. Above you, the sky is vast and open, the moon hanging heavy among the twinkling stars, bathing everything in soft silver light.

Your hands start to swing back and forth naturally, a gentle rhythm forming between you, and you grin. "Wanna play 21 questions?"

Katsuki snorts. "Dumbass, you already started. That’s question one."

You gasp, playfully scandalized. "That does not count!"

"It absolutely counts."

You shoot him a look before humming in thought. "Fine. What’s your favorite parent memory?"

His thumb absentmindedly rubs against your knuckle as he thinks, his brows furrowing just slightly. 

"Probably when I figured out my quirk for the first time. I nearly blew up the damn house. Scared the shit outta my mom." He smirks at the memory, and you laugh, already picturing it. "What ‘bout you?"

"Hmmm…" You swing your legs, leaning back slightly. "Probably when I got my first set of heels. My mom said they were too grown-up, but my dad let me have them anyway. I felt like a princess."

Katsuki hums, eyes flickering down to your baby pink wedge heels. "Guess it stuck, huh?"

You stick your tongue out at him. "Damn right it did."

And just like that, the game continues—questions and laughter traded back and forth, the rest of the world fading into the background. You ask him about his dream vacation (somewhere warm, quiet, and not filled with annoying extras), he asks you about your first celebrity crush (which you refuse to answer, claiming it’s classified information), and somewhere in between, the swings slow to a stop, and you’re both looking at each other with that soft, knowing kind of gaze that only soulmates share.

Then, like an unspoken challenge, you shoot up from your seat and dart toward the jungle gym. 

"Bet I can get to the top before you!"

"Like hell you can!"

And suddenly, you’re running.

Through the cool night air, across the damp grass, your heels clicking against the ground as you sprint toward the monkey bars. Katsuki is right behind you, his laughter loud and unrestrained as he chases you like a predator hunting its prey. You dodge left, then right, before shrieking as his hands nearly snatch your waist.

"Too slow, old man!"

"What’d you just call me, you little shit—?!"

Before you know it, you’re both climbing the jungle gym, ducking behind slides, swinging off bars, and giggling like a couple of kids with no worries in the world. Katsuki nearly slips on the bridge, cursing up a storm as you cheer for his failure, only to yelp when he vaults over the rail and corners you at the top of the slide.

"Nowhere left to run, pretty girl."

"Who said I was running?"

Then you shove him down the slide.

Katsuki lets out a startled yell before tumbling down, hitting the ground with a thud. He stares up at the sky, blinking, as you double over laughing at the top of the playground.

"You’re dead," he growls, jumping to his feet, and you screech before flying down the slide after him, sprinting across the park once again.

But before he can grab you, the flash of red and blue lights catches your attention.

Both of you freeze.

A local police officer sits in his patrol car near the entrance of the park, flashing his headlights twice. It’s not an official warning, just a subtle little, “Alright, kids, time to wrap it up.”

You and Katsuki exchange a look before, in perfect sync, you bolt.

"Go, go, go—!"

He snatches your hand, leading you toward the Ferrari parked haphazardly on the curb. The second you’re both inside, he’s peeling out of the park, leaving nothing behind but tire marks and the sound of your shared laughter echoing through the empty streets.

"We are so getting arrested one day," you giggle, breathless, as you lean your head against the seat. Katsuki smirks, reaching over to squeeze your knee. "Not if they can’t catch us."

The city lights blur past as he drives, heading toward the only place that matters—home.

By the time you step into your apartment, you’re still catching your breath from laughing so hard. Your cheeks are warm, your hands are sore from gripping Katsuki’s the entire ride home, and your heart is still doing little somersaults in your chest.

Katsuki lingers by the door as you lock it behind him, his hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders still a little tense from the adrenaline of the night.

But then he looks at you—really looks at you, bathed in the golden glow of your living room lamp, your makeup slightly smudged from the wind, your dress shifting with your movements—and something in him eases.

His fingers brush against yours, grounding himself in the warmth of your skin. "Can I see your room?"

You raise a brow at the sudden request, amused. "Why?"

His eyes flicker to the hallway, then back to you. "‘Cause last time, I had to watch you through glass."

Your breath catches slightly, remembering that first night—the strip club, the hazy neon lights, the way his eyes never left you through the frosted glass as you danced, how you both connected before even realizing it. You nod, grabbing his wrist, and lead him down the hall.

Your bedroom is exactly as he imagined—soft, warm, you. The princess-style furniture, the early 2000s knickknacks, the plush bed with pink sheets, the iridescent heart-shaped bag gets tossed on the vanity. But what catches his attention is the changing divider standing in the corner, the same way it did that first night he came across your stream.

He steps forward, eyes tracing the delicate panels, and lifts a hand.

With the tip of his finger, he starts to trace a heart onto the surface—slow, deliberate.

Just like you did that night, pressed against the frosted glass of the club, your eyes meeting his through the hazy barrier.

But before he can finish, you reach forward and pull it away.

Katsuki barely has time to react before you step into his space, pressing your smaller hand against his. Your palm is warm, soft, slotting perfectly against his rougher one.

Then, without hesitation, you wrap your arms around his middle and hug him tight.

"This is what you wanted," you whisper against his chest.

Katsuki exhales, something inside him unraveling as he wraps his arms around you, pressing his chin to the top of your head.

"Yeah," he murmurs, holding you closer. "It is."

A song plays from your phone’s speaker, soft and familiar.

Loyalty.

The same song from that first night. The one that bound you together before either of you even realized what was happening. But this time, you’re not the one moving. Katsuki stands at the foot of your bed, rolling his shoulders, cracking his knuckles.

"Alright, princess. You had your turn. Now it’s mine."

Your brows lift. "You’re gonna dance for me?"

He clicks his tongue. "Fuck yeah I am."

You bite back a grin, settling onto your bed, crossing your legs as he steps forward.

The beat kicks in, and Katsuki starts to move.

It’s not perfect—his footwork is a little too heavy, his rhythm a little rough—but he’s feeling it. His hands glide over his waistcoat, his fingers curling into the lapels before sliding down his chest. He moves slow, deliberate, almost cocky, keeping his smoldering gaze locked onto yours.

Your breath stutters.

He steps closer, body rolling just enough to make your face burn, tilting his head like he owns the moment.

And he does.

Because this time, there’s no glass between you. No stage, no stares—just him, dancing for you, showing you what you’ve always made him feel. When the song ends, he stops right in front of you, breath steady, smirking.

"Tch. Bet you weren’t expecting that."

You blink, lips parted, before laughing. "I literally have no words right now."

Katsuki chuckles, reaching for your hand, pulling you up just enough for him to plop onto your bed, dragging you down with him.

And just like that, the teasing melts into something softer.

You curl into him, your head tucked beneath his chin, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. He strokes a hand over your back, savoring the warmth of your body against his.

The TV flickers in the dimly lit room, playing some cheesy romance movie you both aren’t paying attention to. Instead, you talk—about everything, about nothing.

Until he shifts slightly, clearing his throat.

"When we get married would you get matching piercings with me?"

You blink, peeking up at him.

"Matching piercings?"

"Yeah. And a tattoo." He brushes his thumb against your wrist. "Ring finger and behind the ear. Thought about it a lot. Think your name’d look real pretty on me."

Your heart skips. "Oh?"

He grunts. "Been drawing some designs up. Just for us."

You grin.

"Like what?"

Without hesitation, he reaches for the drawing pad he left by your bed, flipping through pages before stopping and tilting it toward you.

A zentangle. Intricate, swirling patterns weaving together seamlessly, and at the very end of the design—a heart.

Just like the one you had once traced on glass.

Something swells in your chest, something too big to name, too warm to hold back. You cup his cheek, tracing your thumb over his skin, before whispering, "It’s perfect."

Katsuki exhales, pressing his forehead against yours.

Because that’s just what you are.

Katsuki inhales deeply, his forehead still pressed to yours, the warmth of his skin seeping into you, grounding you. His hand finds your waist, his thumb brushing circles against the fabric of your dress, his breath fanning against your lips—close but not quite touching.

The weight of the night settles in. The laughter, the rush of running hand-in-hand, the feeling of being completely seen—no cameras, no expectations, just you and him.

"Y’know," he murmurs, voice low, steady,

"I loved you before I even knew you."

Your breath catches.

Katsuki pulls back just enough to look at you, his crimson eyes holding something fierce, something unwavering. "Back then,didn’t even know your name yet, but—fuck." He shakes his head, a small, breathless laugh slipping out. "You had me, princess. You had me from the start."

Your fingers trail up the nape of his neck, brushing the freshly etched letters of your name in his undercut. Your heart is pounding—so loud, you swear he can hear it—but you don’t care.

"Me too," you whisper.

"I loved you before I even knew you."

His lips part, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it back, like the confirmation of something he already knew still knocks the breath out of him.

Then, with no hesitation, he kisses you.

It’s slow—gentle—like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your lips, the way you sigh softly against him, the way your fingers fist into his skin like you never want to let go. Katsuki’s senses are flooded immediately with the scent of you and he’s basically drunk off that one kiss from you. 

Who could blame him though? 

You don’t.

When you finally part, your noses still brush, your breaths mingling.

"Gimme your hand," he mutters.

You do, and he turns it over, pressing his lips to the center of your palm before lacing his fingers with yours, holding on tight. He then places them right over his heavy beating heart that you love so much. 

"Keep holding me," you whisper.

He grins, wiping his free hand against his pant leg before squeezing yours.

"Forever."

The movie plays on in the background, forgotten, as you both sink into each other—wrapped up in warmth, in laughter, in the feeling of something solid, something certain.

Because this—this—is all you’ll ever need.

Loyalty

I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES!!!!

For Valentines day, I hosted a poll about the fic's I have cooking in the oven from my mha 'Fuck it, I got you,' series and this was the first winner. As promised, some info about the relationship between you and Kats.

Main fic in question: Loyalty. This story is about how you get broken up with by your asshole hero ex and accidentally meet Katsuki while working as a stripper. Hijinks ensue, (Like the ex tryin to kill you) and honestly, it's a good read (biased I know) and still ongoing. I like to imagine that this fic takes place afterwards.

The best way I could describe the relationship is that it's like you both met your soulmate and are now trying to figure out what to do because you're both shy people, but you do really like each other and would do anything for the other/feel so safe and complete.

Michelle is our best friend in the whole wide world and roommate. She's going to appear in the other AU's and is based on 3 of the closest women in the world to me. Everyone needs a Michelle. Our Lemon car is inspired by a comedy show and my own car. There is a running gag that Kats gets heart pain from loving you but it's a good thing. You and Kat have picked up each others speaking patterns without noticing.

The heart on the glass comes from this chapter.

I honestly feel like I could've done better on this fic but I think that's the nit-picky author part of my brain.

My master list is a work in progress but there's plenty more fic's and other characters if you request them. Ao3 is sexy too. (Full story can be found there and I will be updating soon.)

You can also tip me a coffee if you want.

Remember: Comments and likes, they really help. Don't be afraid to leave me a sexy little reblog too.

Stay tuned for the rest!! If you wanna be tagged, lemme know.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!! <33

-Angie (✿^‿^)

[seumyo]

Bakugou didn’t like you.

He didn’t.

You weren’t even in the same class. Barely even interacted. Just two UA students who happened to take the same train every so often. Yet, whenever you were near, he was hyper-aware of you.

For example, he could be in the school’s gymnasium with the rest of the class, resting after a rigorous basketball training, but the minute he caught sight of you in the bleachers to collect the leftover materials, suddenly all basketballs are making it through the hoop.

Not that he cared. He didn’t do it to impress you.

He doesn’t even know what you did to have him notice you in the first place. An enigma that has him hooked.

The train slowed as he approached the station, the robotic voice announcing their stop. Bakugou stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, only to glance at you just as you pocketed your gadget and stood as well.

Just my luck.

The train doors slid open, and you both stepped onto the platform, the cool morning air greeting you. Bakugou stuffed his hands into his pockets, his usual scowl in place, already planning to walk ahead—only to hear a familiar patter of liquid against the pavement below.

Shit.

Within seconds, the drizzle turned into a steady shower. Students groaned, hurriedly pulling out umbrellas—not wanting to be late. Bakugou clicked his tongue, reaching into his bag to grab his own when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw you just standing there, blinking at the street.

No umbrella.

Of course.

He should’ve ignored it. Should’ve just walked ahead like he always did. But instead, he found himself sighing—deeply, begrudgingly—before flicking his umbrella open.

“Hey,” he grunted, stepping closer so the umbrella covered both of them. “Don’t just stand there like an idiot.”

You blinked at him, startled. “Oh. Um—” you hesitated, then smiled sheepishly. “You don’t have to—”

“I ain’t gonna let you walk in the rain, dumbass.” His ears burned. “Just walk.”

A pause. Then, to his horror, you laughed.

Not scoffed. Not sighed. Laughed.

It was light. Amused. Like he had just said the most funny thing in the world.

His grip on the umbrella tightened.

You walked side by side, your pace naturally slower than his. It was torture. Bakugou had to consciously slow himself down, had to fight the instinct to just power ahead and leave you behind. But you were under his damn umbrella now, and he wasn’t about to be a jerk and make you run after him.

So, he adjusted his steps. He adjusted.

For you.

Oh, god. He must've caught a flu.

It was annoying. Unnatural. But you didn’t seem to notice.

“Thanks, Bakugou,” you said after a while.

His chest felt tight.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

He didn’t like you.

He didn’t.

So why was he hoping that the next morning it’ll rain the same and that he gets to go on the same train car as you?

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[turquoisenintendo64]

the blonde (what are you listening to?)

katsuki bakugo & fem!reader

where . . . you dream about a blonde red eyed man every night, and on a random wednesday in a café, he walks in. but maybe who you thought was your soulmate turns out to be someone you loathe (have you noticed that loathing sounds like loving?)

“warnings” & notes: college au?? they’re 18-19 and live in apartments, use of yn in the texts, kirimina and kamijiro (seroroki and rodydeku if you squint)!!, they’re still heroes in training and have quirks but i’m not going to mention them that much and reader’s quirk is not mentioned, this is going to be slow AS HELL because he’s emotionally constipated and a little dumb <3, the girls in 1A (ochako, jiro, momo, mina) and yn are a friendgroup and roomies, sero, denki, kirishima and katsuki are roomies too, possible allusions to sex but nothing too crazy, denki having brainrot humor

introducing ! apartment 2B & apartment 2A + (occasional) special guests

chapters ! (💌: written content)

part 0: coming soon…

[dollyfetti]

deaf!bakugou likes to feel the vibrations of your body.

to paint a clear picture, he doesn’t have his hearing aids in, and you two are in resting in bed after a few rounds of making love (and consoling your fiancée when he started tearing up and signing about how he was fucking pissed he couldn’t hear you moaning his name)

the sun’s orange glow as it sets just outside your window beams a gorgeous light onto you both, glistening with sweat. it’s a comfortable few minutes before you remember a juicy story you’d overheard earlier that day, and you gently tap the space next to your lover (you didn’t have to though cuz he was already staring at you with cheesy adoration).

you slightly pull yourself away from his beefy chest to begin expressively signing your daily piece of gossip. you always speak out loud when you sign, even though you know he can’t hear you. and as you’re signing with speedily, facial expressions big and enthusiastic, katsuki’s eyes dart to your lips every two seconds, nostalgically remembering the sound of your gorgeous voice before the war.

he huffs, signing wait. you pause with confusion before he shuffles forward so two of his fingers could rest on your throat. he feels you swallow and a little grin writes itself upon his face. he gives you a tiny nod to continue. and he smiles at the heavy buzzing against his digits.

[hxltic]

First time makin out with Bakugo.

suggestive!!

Ur laying down, splayed on top of him, but who can say anything about it? You saw the black tee and sweatpants combo he flaunts while he was casually making food in the kitchen. You’d practically jumped him.

But he didn’t mind; his temper deteriorates later into the night, so the only thing he can feel right now is your fingers wrapped around his neck and your lips slowly dancing against his. Not that he had much of a temper around you anyway.

He groans satisfactorily in the back of his throat. The pads of his fingers creep up the thighs sat on either side of his hips and trickle just under the fabric of your shorts. There was no point getting under the covers of the dark bedroom, the only light came from a candle on the dresser from sometime earlier when you were cleaning, and the only sounds emanated from you two.

That moment he gently tugs your lip between his teeth, just to release it and grin tiredly when you hum in response. At the same time, you shift above him, turning your head into a deeper kiss.

His lips are so soft. They move perfectly against yours, molding like they were made for each other. He looks so content like this, sharing a sultry kiss with you, his body completely relaxed. Mostly.

Your tongue slips out to meet with his as if it had been done a billion times. His touch sends fire through your skin, and with each movement he gets even closer, your heart feels like it’s about to pound through your ribs; however, despite how it appears to be, he is in the same breathless boat. Your hand only disconnects from him to brush the falling tendrils of hair behind your ear.

There was a hardness growing beneath you that made your heart beat ten times faster, but nothing was done about it. He ignored it—instead trailing one of his palms up and down the span of your back while the other reaches a little further.

His brows furrow a bit when he inquires as softly as possible, in his gruff voice, “You’re not wearin’ anything under these tiny shorts?”

You dip your head back to his lips, taking them in sensually. Of course, he returns it, but the question is left in the air. Your mouth leaves his so you can leave slow, needy kisses along his jaw that gradually cover his neck, and when you come back up, the answer is given as a whisper. “Hmm…thong.”

He blinks open his orbs swimming with fire and a glint of amusement. The hand on your back then moves to your nape so he can tug you down to him, already feeling the withdrawal of your taste. Simultaneously, his fingers inch all the way up until he can feel the garment himself.

He effortlessly slips his finger under the thin string and lifts it until he can’t anymore so that it delicately snaps back into place. His tongue soars deeper into yours when you react with a small gasp.

He smiles with a low sound deep in his chest, “Seems like you want somethin’ from me.”

“I do,” you breathe. “Didn’t wear it for nothing.”

It’s then he rolls over, taking you with him onto your back.

©️hxltic

[dekuneho]

bakugou katsuki doesn’t announce the newfound development in your relationship like a normal person.

one day, he’s in the kitchen within the first breath of daylight, preparing breakfast for two. you slide up next to him, burrowing your head between his arm and chest—and katsuki… he lets you, squeezes you. he kisses you on your temple, “g’morning, baby,” and by then a gasp rips across the silence of the room.

kaminari starts, “what—”

“oh,” ashido gasps, dawning with understanding. “wait—are you two…?”

katsuki bares his teeth at the stunned looks of your classmates, his glare speaking volumes: an unspoken claim.

[missdynamighttt]

i love love LOVE reading the hcs where pro hero, husband! katsuki is just so in love with his dear wife.

you sat on the couch, a warm blanket wrapped around you, as you watched katsuki's live interview on tv. the interviewer, a well-known journalist, smiled at him, clearly eager to delve into his life as a top pro hero.

“so, mr. dynamight, what would you say is your greatest achievement?” the interviewer asked, leaning in with interest.

without missing a beat, katsuki didn't even hesitate. “marrying my wife.”

your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat. a big, silly smile spreads across your face as you listened, touched by his words.

the interviewer chuckled, clearly caught off guard. “that’s very sweet, but i meant in your pro hero career.”

katsuki frowns at him, as if offended by the idea of something else being greater than marrying you. “nothing else matters.”

the room fell silent for a moment, the sincerity of his words hanging in the air. yhe interviewer, taken aback by his straightforwardness, smiled warmly. “that’s quite the statement. it’s clear how much she means to you.”

katsuki simply nodded, his expression unwavering. “she’s my everything.”

you felt your heart swelled with love and pride, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. you knew he loved her, but hearing him say it so openly and proudly made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

his girl. his one and only. the love of his life.

long after his interview, the front door creaked open, and your husband stepped inside, loosening his tie as he kicked off his shoes. before he could even set his bag down, you appeared, practically bouncing with excitement.

before he could even say a word, you launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him down into a huge, sloppy kiss. katsuki barely had time to react before you were kissing him with such enthusiasm that it left him momentarily stunned.

when you finally pulled back, a big grin plastered on your face, he blinked, wiping at his lips with a bemused expression.

“what the hell was that for, sweets?” he asked, though his tone held no real annoyance.

you giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around him. “for being the sweetest husband ever,” you smiled, eyes shining with affection. “i saw the interview.”

katsuki’s face softened, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “tch, you’re acting like i don’t mean it.”

“i know you do,” you replied, leaning up to peck his lips again, this time softer. “but hearing you say it like that... it means the world to me.”

he sighed, pulling you into a tighter embrace. “you’re such a sap,” he muttered, though his tone was fond.

“says the guy who just declared i’m his greatest achievement on national television,” you teased, nuzzling into his chest.

katsuki scoffs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“yeah, yeah. just don’t get used to it.”

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

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ based on david bowie interview about his wife :)) also, happy birthday to me!! tysm for the 1k follows yet again, please enjoy this while older bro's bsf is a wip <333

[megumismyhusband]

you don’t even get a chance to put your bag down before bakugo is yanking you into his arms, grumbling something about how damn long you kept him waiting.

“katsuki—”

“shut up,” he mumbles, already burying his face into your shoulder. “just lemme have this.”

you sigh, but it’s hard to be exasperated when he’s clinging to you like this—arms tight around your waist, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt like you might disappear if he lets go.

“you’re so needy,” you tease, running your fingers through his hair.

he grunts. “so what?”

you laugh softly. “so nothing. it’s cute.”

his grip tightens. “ain’t cute.”

you can feel how warm his face gets, even if he’s trying to hide it against your neck. his breath is warm, sending a little shiver down your spine when he mutters, “kiss me.”

you smile, pressing a kiss to his temple.

he tenses. then pulls back just enough to glare at you. “babe. a real one.”

before you can even think about teasing him again, he’s already moving—cupping your face, leaning in, kissing you slow and deep like he’s making up for lost time.

when he finally pulls away, he stays close, forehead resting against yours. “missed you,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper.

your heart melts. “i was only gone for a few hours.”

“too long.” he huffs, dragging you toward the couch. “now shut up and cuddle me.”

[minus-plus-zer0]

Comparing Hand Sizes

This was the stupidest love advice Bakugou ever received. But he had to give it a shot.

Bakugou approached you at the house party, steeling himself for the worst. The Bakusquad would have hell to pay if this didn’t work.

“Oi,” Bakugou said. “Wanna compare hand sizes?” 

“Um… sure?” 

He feared that you might’ve already caught onto his little game, but you still held up your hand against his. 

“Guess mine’s bigger,” Bakugou said, as instructed. 

Bakugou didn’t know where to fucking go from here, because the idiots didn’t give him the full instructions for this dumb trick. Bakugou went with his gut instead. His fingers intertwined with yours, letting both your hands drop. His hand still gripped yours firmly. 

You laughed in his face. “Really? This is how you finally make a move on me? You’re such a dork!”

“S-so what? It fucking worked, didn’t it?!”

After that, Bakugou didn’t let go of your hand for almost the entire night. He didn’t endure that embarrassment for nothing. However, he knew he needed more.

“So... ya wanna compare lips too? Wonder whose is better.”

“Wow. You are sooooo dorky!”

“Will you just get over here?!”

[suksatoru]

plushies galore! ⋆˚୨♡୧˚⋆ katsuki x you

katsuki lays sprawled on your bed with one, muscular arm shifting onto your side. he rips away the stuffed animal that was laying peacefully in your arms, before promptly chucking it full force across your room.

"katsuki!"

he ignores you, nuzzling into the spot where your hello kitty plush was laying previously- right on your chest- as he wraps his arms around you with a satisfied sigh

"what the hell was that for?" you whine, attempting to push him off- which unfortunately doesn't work, because he lowers all of his body weight on top of you as you gasp and squirm in his arms- telling the heavy bastard to get off and go get your plushy!

"she was lookin' at me funny. piece of shit."

katsuki yelps loudly when you pinch the muscle of his arm, scowling even further as you look at him with a glare

"she can't help the way her face is! go say sorry!"

he mutters something under his breath as you pull your brows together in confusion, watching his red eyes glare angrily at the hello kitty plushy that laid helplessly on the floor

"hm? what was that?" you asked sternly as a growl rumbles deep in chest. he lifts his head from your stomach, his lips curling into something similar to a pout as looks away

"she took my spot too... i guess." he huffs, flipping off your cuddly companion as you blink back your surprise. a soft giggle leaves your lips as you realize what was going on. katsuki was just jealous.

"you know you're my favorite, right?" you coo, gently threading a hand through his spiky hair as the tension from his back disperses. he sinks further into your body as he nods his head slowly

"damn right I am." he mutters, pressing feather soft kisses onto your tummy as you gently bop your nose against his

"i love you, katsuki." you whisper, watching his eyes soften a fraction at your words as he sighs

"i know, brat. everyone does."

he braces himself for impact the moment the words leave his mouth, hiding his face against your skin as you smack his head with a wack! he groans with a laugh, sending you a small smile - one that was specifically reserved for you.

"now, can you please go say sorry to her?" you cross your arms, looking down at him with a hopeful smile as he squints back, tightening his arms around your waist stubbornly.

"hell no."

"katsuki."

"...fine."

[seumyo]

when you don’t say “i love you” back to bakugou.

Bakugou says, “I love you,” every time he’s about to leave the house without you. It’s something that he got from his father, and to put it simply, he got influenced.

He’s about to finish putting on his hero gear. His gauntlets were already in place, his boots laced, and his mask pushing his hair away from his face—kind of like how he wore it during high school whenever it wasn’t necessary to wear it properly.

And there you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor without a care in the world.

Books were scattered around you in piles, organized by some system only you seemed to understand. You were focused as you murmured to yourself quietly, comparing sizes, genres, and authors, completely absorbed in your task of organizing the living room’s bookshelf.

“I’m heading out.”

“Mmhm,” you replied absentmindedly, holding up two books and tilting your head as if the slight angle would help you decide which belonged on the top shelf.

Bakugou frowned, his brow twitching. “Oi, did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes,” you said, still not looking at him. “Be careful, Katsuki.”

He let out a huff, running a hand through his hair. He was used to you getting lost in your little projects, but this felt different (were you playing a prank on him?). He stepped closer, crouching down beside you to meet your eye level. “Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone,” he said, softer this time.

“I won’t.”

Still not looking at him. Unbelievable.

To Bakugou, it felt like being thrown through a building and back—and he wasn’t even exaggerating because it actually happened to him once! And he could definitely conclude that the feeling’s similar when you’re ignoring (not paying that much attention to) him.

Bakugou watched you for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he sighed. “I love you,” he murmured, his tone quieter.

“Uh-huh. Have a good day at work.”

Just as Bakugou was about to stand back up, he blinked, the words sinking in slowly. His brow furrowed as the realization hit him—he’s so confused.

You didn’t say it back.

“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you—because you didn’t even hear him.

He huffed, taking the book you were inspecting as he let your hands fall on his arms instead.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” you glanced at him, your expression innocent as if nothing unusual had happened.

“You didn’t say it back,” he said, his tone sharp, though there was a hint of disbelief beneath the irritation.

The audacity you had. After almost always saying “I love you” to him to the point where Bakugou realized he couldn’t go on his day without hearing it, you decide to not say it now?

What’s next? You’re going to tell him you want a divorce? He’s overreacting, he thinks.

“Say what back?”

He clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing faintly. “I said I love you, dumbass.”

Realization dawned on your face, followed by a sheepish smile. That smile—the one that managed to win him over—it’s so infectious it might as well be a cause of an epidemic.

“Oh! Katsuki, I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“Tch,” he muttered, looking away from you. “Yeah, I noticed.”

You leaned closer to where he was crouching, squeezing his forearm softly, your touch light and apologetic. “You know I love you too, right?”

He side-eyed you, his scowl deepening, though it was clear his annoyance was fading.

“Doesn’t count if I gotta remind you,” Bakugou grumbled—almost pouting.

Your laughter bubbled out, so familiar that Bakugou was reminded where his home is, as you then held his face gently—then squishing his cheeks so that his lips are puckered. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “I’ll make sure to say it next time, promise.”

“Better keep thath promish,” he muffled out.

“I will,” you assured him, loosening your hold as you gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Strawberry-flavored chapstick, one of Bakugou’s favorites whenever you kiss him.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He tried to maintain his frown, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as you kissed him once more. “You better.”

“Now go save the day, my hero.”

With a sigh, Bakugou leaned away from you, his posture reluctant to even leave you. He made his way to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder one last time. You were looking at him, blowing him lots of kisses with the emphasized “mwah!”

“Don’t get so caught up in your books that you forget I exist,” he tells you.

You smiled, nodding along. “Never.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too! Text me when you get to your agency; love you lots!” That’s better.

As he closed the door behind him, Bakugou shook his head, muttering to himself, “Ignored for some damn books. Unbelievable.”

Still, despite his grumbling, the faint smile on his face said he wasn’t really mad.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki who breaks his sleep schedule ONLY on your birthday because he wants to be sure he’s the first one to text you.

at exactly midnight .on.the.dot. you get a string of messages from your boyfriend saying :

“happy birthday, moron.”

“i love you and all that stupid mushy shit”

“you better say it back. fucked up my sleep for you.”

“❤️”

he doesn’t even care if you’re already asleep, he’s already sure he was the very first one to text you but if you are still awake he’s even more proud cause you saw it happen. him who you (and his friends) tease all the time for going to sleep at like 8:30 sharp stayed up doing fuck all just to be the first to wish you a happy fucking birthday.

so yeah, you bet your ass he’s proud. and he’ll go to sleep and knock out immediately with a smirk on his face when you text him a “thank you sm, katsuki !!! i love you sosooososos much💕💕”

“yeah you better. go to bed, g’night <3”

n’ yeah okay, maybe he’ll be a bit crankier than usual, but it’ll be worth it seeing how bright you smile and jump to hug him, kissing all over his cheek with thank you’s and love you’s.

he’ll just take it out on kaminari.

[kateschi]

back in action

synopsis: being the wife of bakugou katsuki comes with multiple benefits, one of which is a front-row seat to his scrumptious back.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: i know at least 2/3 of you have seen that figurine

you swear there’s no better sight in this world than katsuki bakugou’s back.

not the view from your honeymoon suite in santorini, not the sparkling ocean from your vacation in okinawa—hell, not even the perfect strawberry shortcake you baked last weekend.

no, none of that compares to the sheer beauty that is your husband’s ridiculously broad, wonderfully sculpted, unfairly muscular back.

the way his muscles shift under his skin when he moves? art.

the ripple of strength as he stretches? divine.

the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders after an intense workout? a masterpiece.

and, as if the gods of attractiveness hadn’t blessed him enough, the scars that mark his skin only add to his allure.

each one tells a story of battles fought and won, of heroism that the world praises but he humbly shrugs off. to you, those scars aren’t just symbols of strength—they’re proof of his resilience, his dedication, his heart.

so, yes. you are absolutely obsessed with your husband’s back, and no, you don’t care how shameless that makes you.

“katsuki,” you call from the couch, chin propped up on your hands as you shamelessly watch him rummage through the fridge.

he’s in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants, the waistband hanging dangerously low on his hips, and his shirt? nowhere to be found.

a completely intentional choice on his part, because he knows exactly how weak you are for him like this. “did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got the best back in the entire universe?”

he pauses, a carton of orange juice in one hand and an eyebrow raised in your direction. “you tell me that every damn day.”

“well, I mean it every damn day.”

he rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother hiding the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re such a weirdo.”

“damn right,” you shoot back, grinning when he snorts. “come here. let me look at it properly.”

“what, my back?” his expression is one part exasperation, two parts amusement as he shuts the fridge and leans against the counter, arms crossed. “the hell do you need to ‘look’ at it for?”

“because it’s a work of art, obviously,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “and I haven’t had my daily dose of admiring you yet.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face like you’re the most exhausting person on the planet, but he still walks over to you without another word. you can tell he’s secretly enjoying this, though.

“alright, idiot. knock yourself out.” he turns around, presenting you with the full, glorious view of his back.

your eyes immediately light up. “oh my god, it’s perfect.”

“it’s a back,” he deadpans.

“no, no, no. it’s the back,” you insist, reaching out to lightly trace your fingers along the curve of his shoulder blades.

he tenses slightly under your touch—his body always reacts before his mind can catch up—but quickly relaxes as you continue your impromptu “admiration session.”

“you’ve got no idea how unfair this is,” you mumble, running your hands down the defined lines of his lats. “how am I supposed to focus on anything when you look like this?”

“you’re ridiculous.” he’s shaking his head, but you can hear the way his voice softens, the way the edges of his usual gruffness smooth out when he talks to you like this.

it’s a few days later, and you're lounging on the couch, flicking through your phone when you hear him coming from the hallway, the sound of his footsteps heavy and deliberate.

katuski’s been in the gym for a couple of hours, and you can already hear the deep exhale he lets out as he moves closer, his breath still heavy from the workout.

"guess who's back," you say, looking up just in time to see him walking into the living room, wearing only a towel around his waist, his body glistening with sweat from his workout.

he pauses for a moment when he sees your face—wide-eyed and full of admiration, already zeroing in on that perfect, chiseled back. his muscles tense as he moves, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

"really?" he says, voice dripping with disbelief. "you still on about this?"

“can’t help it,” you say, setting your phone aside and leaning back against the cushions, fully prepared to watch him, unashamed. "I’m just amazed that someone like you exists in the world."

katuski rolls his eyes, but there's a soft chuckle that escapes him, betraying his indifference. "yeah, well, quit starin'."

"I can’t help it," you reply, your voice a playful purr as you look him up and down. "I mean, who else looks this good after a workout?"

he tilts his head to the side, his signature scowl starting to form, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“quit actin’ like I’m some kinda showpiece, alright?” he grumbles, though you can hear the lighthearted edge to his voice.

you laugh, clearly enjoying yourself too much. "sorry, can’t help it.”

later that week, you and katuski are out on patrol, both suited up in your respective hero uniforms.

it's business as usual—rescuing civilians, stopping some petty criminals, and making sure the city is safe.

the sun’s setting, painting the skyline in beautiful oranges and purples, but you're still laser-focused on one thing: his back.

it's a total accident—really, it is—but when you're standing next to him after you’ve just subdued a villain, you can't help but sneak a glance at the broad expanse of his back.

you feel that familiar pull to reach out, to trace the powerful lines of his shoulder blades again.

“don’t even think about it,” he warns, his voice low and gruff as he catches the glint of mischief in your eyes.

you smile innocently, taking a step closer. "what? I was just going to—"

"not here. we’re in the damn public," katuski growls, his sharp gaze snapping to yours as his fingers tighten around his gauntlet. "you really think I’m gonna let you paw at me in front of everyone?"

you laugh, unbothered by his obvious annoyance. "I’m not pawing at you, I’m admiring you. there's a difference, katsuki."

his jaw tightens as he glares at you, his usual frown deepening. "that’s the same damn thing."

you can’t help but grin, even though he’s clearly not having it.

but, deep down, you know that katuski secretly loves it. sure, he’s tough and grumpy in front of the public, but you both know how soft he gets when you're alone, how he indulges you without hesitation.

so, you take one last daring step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush along the fabric of his uniform.

he’s about to bark at you to stop, but you just flash him a quick, mischievous grin, and that’s all it takes for him to roll his eyes, muttering under his breath, "unbelievable."

and katsuki was right in his reprimand cause you were breaking the headlines the very next day.

for all the wrong reasons.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize