#eijirou angst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sprytesukii · 8 months ago

Text

you know me (better than i know myself)

bakugou katsuki x reader

katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.

rating: mature, 18+, MDNI

wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)

tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T

an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)

read on ao3

the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.

“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”

the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.

“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.

he feels like he might die.

“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”

there it is. fuckin’ kaito.

katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.

part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.

of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.

bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.

he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.

and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.

it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.

perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.

katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.

too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.

but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.

that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.

but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.

he’s moving out.

he’ll be gone forever.

subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.

fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.

“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”

the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.

he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.

katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.

it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.

he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.

fuck.

with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.

“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”

the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.

“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“

katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.

he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.

he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.

he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.

it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.

by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.

kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.

it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.

he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.

nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.

he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.

a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.

(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.

he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.

EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><

katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.

EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you

he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)

the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.

a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.

the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.

it’s sustainable until it isn’t.

a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”

it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.

at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.

most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.

the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.

his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.

it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.

izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.

a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.

when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.

he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.

izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.

“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”

a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.

“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.

with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.

now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.

“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.

“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.

he never deserved any of it.

with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).

“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”

maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.

if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.

katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.

izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).

“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.

he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”

the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.

they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.

katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.

the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.

when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.

after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.

—

that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.

he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.

katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.

the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.

he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.

he posts an ad on craigslist that night.

the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.

“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”

the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.

the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.

katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.

something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.

“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.

the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.

“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”

denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”

he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.

the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.

in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.

katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?

ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested

ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td

ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry

ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back

ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while

ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever

katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.

he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.

katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.

you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.

you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.

you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.

it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.

“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.

you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.

“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.

pretty.

“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”

katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.

“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”

you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.

“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.

“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.

what the fuck?

in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”

your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.

the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.

a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.

katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.

suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.

it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.

“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.

your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”

the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.

“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”

your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.

the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.

you agree.

—

the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.

your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.

(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.

“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”

you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)

your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.

(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)

your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.

(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.

“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.

“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”

your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)

the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.

he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.

after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.

you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.

but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.

“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.

“fuck no.”

“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”

and that’s that.

you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.

it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.

occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.

it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.

“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.

“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.

“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”

what the fuck.

katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.

he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.

he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.

katsuki would not dream of stopping you.

—

it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.

(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.

you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.

“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)

katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.

you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.

when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.

katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.

your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.

“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.

the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.

it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.

it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.

he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.

it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.

the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.

fuck.

katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.

he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.

“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”

katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.

(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.

katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.

denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.

“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)

katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.

kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.

“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.

the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”

his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.

at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.

he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.

“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.

“i was in love with you.”

the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.

“wha- bakugou, what?”

“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”

kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.

“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”

katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”

kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.

“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.

“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”

katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”

kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”

after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?

he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.

“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.

“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”

katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.

“i think i’m in love with them.”

kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.

“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.

“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.

he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.

kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.

katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.

his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.

he’s home.

you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.

katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.

you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.

he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.

you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.

“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”

katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.

you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.

“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.

“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.

a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”

it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.

the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.

katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.

these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.

he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.

he thinks it’s his.

you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.

katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.

“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”

his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”

and that he does.

katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.

the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.

“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.

he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.

or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.

“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.

you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”

katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”

you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”

“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.

he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.

a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.

“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.

your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.

“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.

“nah.”

“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.

“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.

“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.

he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.

you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.

he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.

you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.

“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?

katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.

your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.

“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.

“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.

“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.

if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.

“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.

he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.

of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.

“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.

he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.

his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.

after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.

you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.

“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.

you know, though. you always do.

—

“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.

by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.

“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.

speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.

“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.

you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.

“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.

he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.

“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.

he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”

you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.

katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.

“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”

even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.

he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.

the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.

you already know.

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x bakugou #bnha smut #bnha angst #hurt/comfort #[ baby daddy : katsuki ]#[ instant nut : n/sft ]#[ i <3 writing : my works ]

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bakuettes · 4 months ago

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Catch My Drift 🏁 chapter 1

Street racer!bakugo x Street racer!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing, douche bakugo, slight misogyny, alcohol consumption, drug use, illegal activities etc

Kanjozoku; The term Kanjozoku is derived from the combination of the words “kanjo” (meaning ring) and “zoku” (meaning group).

Kanjozoku primarily consists of young car enthusiasts in cities like Osaka and Tokyo who have a passion for speed and a desire to showcase their driving skills.

Osaka was the place to be. Not where tourists go to take pictures and try japanese cuisine, maybe pick up a few souvenirs from the large amount of little gift shops that littered the streets but where a community of young adults with the passion for racing congregate. The night was still young, the sounds of tires screeching against the cold pavement and engines roaring was heard over the heavy base of 2000s club music. Girls dressed in scandalous outfits mingling with the guys posted up next to their pimped out rides. You could practically feel the vibrations of the noise in your head.

Three cars lined up with the drivers sitting on the hoods of their prized possession. A bright orange 1993 Mazda RX-7 FD on the far left. The car’s color was comparable to an orange or maybe even the warm sunsets that would settle over japan. The next car over was a 1993 Toyota Supra Turbo Mark IV. The bright colorful lights that surrounded the meet reflected beautifully off the cars mustard yellow chrome. The third and final car was a looker. Silver 1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 with royal blue detailing along the sides and on the hood. A royal blue flexivity rear wing with matching led lights underneath the body.

It was Bakugo’s baby. Spent years modifying and perfecting it. He was a skilled driver sure but having a car like his? Most would be intimidated to challenge him. “Yo Mina, let’s get this race going!” the orange mazda driver shouted. it was hard to find anyone in this crowd but said woman emerged from the sidelines with a confused look on her face. “Woah woah, wait a second.” She looked around the lot, once overing the lined up vehicles. “where’s your fourth at? i’m counting only three.” mina crossed her arms, unimpressed. the yellow toyota driver spoke up first “it was supposed to be joaquin but he caught the grave yard shift man.”

once you were scheduled to race it was a hassle to find new drivers, the time and place was set in stone. it wasnt that often when scheduled racers were a no show but then again many get caught racing outside of meets or their car needed more time to be repaired. It was a waste of mina’s time. she was the flag girl, not their fucking coordinator. “Na, y’all either find a fourth or you don’t race. How’s that sound? Times ticking boys.”

By standers erupted in shouts of anger and disappointment. they wanted to see a race, most of them drove well over an hour to be here! gas wasn’t cheap and neither was Minas time. Hearing the crowds complaining mina sighed and pitched them an idea. “Alright! i hear you guys, relax. How about this, why don’t i find y’all a driver and we settle this now?” bakugo smirked, nodding in agreement. he never said much but he also never needed to. his aura spoke volumes. “bring ‘em on.” he wasn’t nervous, he knew his talents and was confident. resting the palms of his hands on the hood of his car, he tilted his head towards the other racers, waiting to see hear their answers. “Anyone i want?” mina questioned with a grin that would give the cheshire cat a run for his money. “anybody baby!” orange jululis shouted, raising his arms to the side. cocky bastard. mina rolled her eyes and turned away from the drivers, pulling out her phone from her bra. there was a whole list of people she could call but there was only one person she knew who could end this race quickly.

she could hear the static from the other end of the phone. “y/n, you wanna race tonight?” it was quite for a moment before you spoke in to the speaker “i’m always down, send me your lo.” your voice was smooth like silk but sultry like a vixen. it sounded like you’ve been up for a while so mina didn’t feel bad for calling you so late. she knew you came alive in the night anyway. your energetic friend squealed before gathering herself together. “you got 5 minutes hun!” and then the line went dead.

it never took much convincing to get you out. when mina called you it was 12:15 am, meaning you only had exactly 5 minutes to get there. the meet lot was about 20 minutes out. you arrived there in 4, only a minute left to spare. the sound of you engine had heads turning (a certain blonde as well) as you slowly pulled through the crowd, careful not to hit party-goers. the hot pink body of your 2000 Honda S2000 was hard to miss. everyone knew who was inside and that fact alone made them scream louder. you never really cared too much though, it wasn’t like you had vocals like mariah carey. you didn’t have the ability to move like michael jackson. you were just a damn good racer and that was enough for them apparently.

all three racers turned their heads in the direction of the obnoxiously loud honda, tensing up at the sight. well, all except for one of course. bakugo had no idea why everyone was so fucking hyped. who was that? and why’s everyone acting like they’ve never seen a pink car?? “Racers!” mina yelled excitedly “here’s your fourth!”. your black stiletto boots were the first thing he saw exit the car. then it was a black leather hat. he glanced over at the others to study their reactions and they all had excitement swirling in their eyes. maybe even a hint of nervousness? bakugo didn’t have time to be sure because before he knew it, you were leaning back against the hood of your car crossing one leg over the other. “oh shit, it’s y/n.” you weren’t new to this, you were true to this. the air was crisp and cold, you probably should’ve brought a jacket because this top (if it could even be considered one) with this miniskirt wasn’t doing you no type of favors.

from the corner of your eye you could see a blonde headed man with spikey hair almost looking annoyed as he walked over to mina who was standing in the middle of the road. “no offense but i’m not racing a damn girl. you never said it would be a girl.” you rolled your eyes, who the hell does he think he is? a race is a race. why did it matter who was behind the wheel? you best friend looks beyond over this shit, she’s been annoyed her this whole night and she’s about to lose her patience. “you said anyone i wanted, i wanted her! stand next to your car before nobody races.”

“you scared spikes?” he turned his head to the side, watching you push yourself off the car and strut to the middle where he and mina stood. he sized you up, shamelessly checking you out. “what the hell did you jus call me?” he wasn’t scared. why would bakugo be scared of some princess nobody? “can you even drive with those heels on?” your outfit was impractical he thought. a miniskirt that just barely covered the expanse of your ass (not that he really minded) and what looks like a triangle bikini top. if you were to bend over then— no. now’s not the time to thirst over you. even if he did think you were hot.

“i’m just askin.. why wouldn’t you wanna race me if you weren’t scared?” you’ve dealt with his type before, cocky, thinks they’re better than everyone and so on. he’s got sharp red eyes with a piercing gaze. you let your eyes trail away from his face down to the hardened muscles on his chest. clearly well built and his black tshirt was doing nothing to hide it. “man whatever,” your eyes moved back to his hearing the sound of his voice. “i’m not doin this, find somebody else.” he wasn’t scared, he just felt that he could be using this time to race against someone on his level. why’s it that the egotistical men somehow always find you? you would’ve just let him go but you hated the feeling of being looked down on. he’s no better than you, he doesn’t even know what you have to offer. do you did what you do best, you uped the ante.

“15 grand.” you raised your voice a bit. silence fell over the crowd. “i’ll give you 15 grand if you agree to race tonight and win, that applies to the other racers too” you say to the other two drivers still next to their cars. that made him stop dead in his tracks. were you insane? you’re acting like that’s pocket money. fuck, he doesn’t know if he should do it. he didn’t need the money, but his sister did. he tries to help his mother out the best he can, this would cover at least two months worth of bills. gritting his teeth he turns around starting directly at you “don’t start to regret this when you lose ma.” got ‘em, you thought with shit eating smirk.

you walked past him, shoulder checking the man who’s name you still don’t know. he looked at you, staring at your ass as your skirt rode up with every step you took. you must’ve felt bakugo’s stare because your hands grab them hem of the denim and pull it down, throwing him a flirty smile over your shoulder. the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink. he quickly looks to the side, licking his lips attempting to play it off as if the whole meet did see the interaction. all the racers start getting into there respective cars, starting them up. mina struts to the middle of the street once again only this time with a checkered flag. her brown skin was glowing, the lights reflecting off the body glitter she wore.

“Racers!”

mina exudes confidence. you hand your left hand on the wheel, the other hand tightly gripping on to the gear shift. foot tapping on the gas a bit. you were high off adrenaline, you lived for moments like these.

“Start your engines..”

bakugo couldn’t help but stare at you. the look in your eyes. ‘s like you got off on this, the wicked smile on your lips doing nothing to make him think otherwise. he wasn’t fazed though, he had this in the bag. maybe even after he wins he could take you out but that was something he’d ask later, he needs to focus. the flag drops.

“GO!”.

and you were gone.

𝐀/𝐍!!: okay why was this way harder than i thought? 😭 please bare with me ik im not that advanced in writing. i also don’t know a lot about cars but i research by chapter. lmk how u like it so far and i promise to produce better work as time goes on!

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these-written-reveries · 4 months ago

Text

Selfish (kiribaku ver.)

‣ Pairing: KiriBaku x GN!Reader

‣ Genre: Flangst, Hurt/Comfort

‣ Summary: Katsuki is convinced that you and Eijirou are in love with each other, but not him. He tries to do what he thinks is right by keeping his feelings suppressed and hidden from you, instead of trying to get between the happiness of the two people he loves the most. His plan quickly begins to fall apart the moment you confront him, and his selfish urges take over.

‣ Warnings: Angst, Katsuki being sad and having low self-esteem, false unrequited love, making out, Reader uses the “girl’s” elevator (but we can just pretend gender plays no part in the placement of the dorm rooms in this scenario), the word “fuck” is used a lot, repeated use of a "noose" metaphor? idk

‣ Word Count: 6,350

‣ A/N: This is more of a Katsuki-centric fic, with a bonus fluffy kiribaku blurb at the end!

There is a Katsuki x Reader version of this here, if you’re interested!

Main Masterlist

Katsuki Bakugou was a selfish man.

He had begrudgingly accepted this truth a long time ago. Despite how it appeared on the surface, he was quite self-aware. Sure, it didn’t require that much self-reflection to figure it out, considering he’d been told this very truth by others around him multiple times throughout his life—at least by the ones that were brave enough to do so—but that’s beside the point. He still came to be aware of it, one way or another.

He could remember the early days of his youth as a spoiled, entitled brat. Even before his quirk developed, he always poised himself as superior to others. He was as selfish as they came. Throwing fits when he didn’t get his way, hurting people around him to ease the raging storm of feelings that were too big for his tiny body, always stealing the spotlight from others, expecting praise and rewards for every little thing he did. Kids are inherently selfish, to some degree, but little Katsuki blew every kid in his grade out of the water, in this regard.

Things didn’t improve all that much as he grew older, but he did get a little better. At least he no longer threw tantrums over not getting ice cream after school or every time he was told “no.” And he no longer sought praise for merely breathing. He preferred to truly earn his title as “the best” at whatever he decided to do—even if that meant knocking some other kids down to get there faster. A minor improvement, but his selfish nature was still wildly out of control. Even when he did recognize it, he didn’t care enough to fix it. He was already seen as an asshole, what was the point in trying to change the minds of people he saw as below him?

It wasn’t until he broke free of his ass-kissing, follower friends and met you, Eijirou, and the other friends "extras" from UA that he finally began to really see and care about his selfish ways—especially how they affected the people he truly respected and cared about. Katsuki wasn’t devoid of a heart, despite what many people believed. He wasn’t incapable of feeling remorse for his actions and of learning how to be a better person. He just never had the proper tools or guidance to be able to grow into the person that he, deep down, wanted to be.

That, and he didn’t have the same motivation before as he suddenly did when you and Eijirou stepped into his life. You pushed him to be better, just by being yourselves. Katsuki was inspired by you from the moment he met you. The way you carried yourselves and the way you managed to handle him and all that came with being his friend. It only made him respect you more. And as he inevitably began to fall for you, he felt the desire to be a better person for you grow even stronger. He wanted to prove to you that he was worth keeping around, even if he wasn’t always “the best” at everything. The last thing he wanted was to lose you over his problematic ways.

To his luck, you and Eijirou were some of the most tolerant people he had ever met. That didn’t mean you never called him out on his shit, though. Katsuki deeply valued you for that. He had grown to be more open and accepting of critical feedback, specifically if it came from you and Eijirou. How could he become a great hero, never mind a great man, if he refused any and all feedback that wasn’t positive?

That said, it still wasn’t easy for him to so easily accept when he was wrong. And it was even more difficult for him to push past his pride enough to apologize for it. But all it took was one look from you or Eijirou to make him give in and do just that. How you managed to gain such power over him, he’d never understand. If he wasn’t so damn in love with you, he’d hate you for it.

He still hated you for it. But in a “fuck you for making me love you so much” kind of way.

If it wasn't for his internal commitment to be a better person—one that you could be proud to know—he would have given into his selfish urges, stolen your hearts, and marked his claim on them a long time ago.

Katsuki had quickly come to learn that being a good person sucks.

“Oh, Eiji texted. He said he’ll be here soon! I invited him. Figured you wouldn’t mind. He said he needs all the help he can get for this upcoming exam,” you said as you began typing a message back to him.

“Fucking hell.”

“Huh?”

You looked up at Katsuki after hearing him grumble something unintelligible under his breath. His eyes met yours for only a brief moment before he averted his gaze, gesturing to the open books in front of you.

“Nothing. Get back to studying! Do you wanna pass that exam, or what?”

You threw your head back as you groaned. “Can’t we just take a little break? Eiji’s not even here yet and we have so much time left to work on this!”

Katsuki pointed his pen at you. “You might have time, but I don’t. You’re lucky I’m even using my spare time to help you idiots with this!”

You rolled your eyes. “You wanted to study for this test too. And you’re the one always preaching about how it’s important to take breaks!”

Before he could respond, you shut your book and looked at him inquisitively.

“So…what were you thinking about before? You looked…more annoyed than usual. Am I annoying you?”

“What the hell do you mean? I don’t look like anything!”

He could see you trying to stifle a laugh, though behind it was a glint of concern in your eyes.

“You look like something is really bothering you, is all.”

“Yeah. You are! Shut up and get back to work,” he growled, though you felt no real malice behind it. You had quickly learned long ago not to take the hotheaded blonde’s rude attitude seriously, often times finding it to be more of a protective shield than anything else.

“Okay, whatever you say,” you said, holding your hands up defensively with a slightly amused smirk on your face. Katsuki huffed in response as he looked away.

Giggling at his strange, yet all too familiar behavior, you opened your textbook again, only to be distracted less than a minute later by another ding from your phone. Katsuki could already tell it was another text from Eijirou by the way you smiled at your screen when you read it. You only ever smiled like that when reading the redhead’s messages, much to Katsuki’s chagrin.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki thought as he stared at you from across the table, frustration and hurt bubbling within his chest.

The truth was, you had the strange ability to make his heart flutter and his stomach do flips and his hands sweaty and fill his brain with so many thoughts of you, it couldn’t focus on anything else. You did all this just by existing as your stupidly beautiful, perfect self.

You even made him feel this way when you looked your “worst”. Beaten up after a bad fight, sleep deprived with bags under your eyes, after—very ungracefully—shoving a giant serving of food into your mouth, just waking up with messy hair and crusty eyes and morning breath, sick with snot constantly leaking out of your nose. All of this and he was still head over heels, swooning over you like a fool. And dammit, did it piss him off.

Even worse, he knew you had feelings for your redheaded friend and not him. He couldn’t blame you for this. He also found himself feeling similarly towards Eijirou, as he did you. He was a damn lovable idiot. A good guy, all around. The kind of man Katsuki wished he could be more like.

He couldn’t blame Eijirou for loving you either. As far as Katsuki was concerned, how could anyone not fall for either of you?

Katsuki loved your entire personality -even the parts that frustrated him most. Especially those parts. On top of that, you were absolutely gorgeous. When he begrudgingly thought of you and Eijirou together, without him, he couldn’t deny that the two of you would make an amazing couple—looks-wise and personality-wise.

It infuriated him to no end. He wanted to hate you both, push you away, relocate somewhere far away so that he’d no longer have to bear the pain of seeing the two of you flirting together, holding hands, laughing at each other’s jokes, hugging one another, and inevitably doing all the things that couples do. All the things that Katsuki wanted so desperately to do with you both.

But he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. There was no way he could bring himself to not only truly hate you, but to go on living life without you both. He would likely never admit it, but you had become so interwoven in his life and his heart, that an existence without you just seemed so bleak and empty.

So, as much as it pained him to sit through hangouts and study sessions and the like, all while bearing witness to how close, how touchy, how obviously in love, you and Eijirou were with one another and not him, he chose to stick around and keep his mouth shut. He made a solemn promise to himself not to utter a word about his feelings to either of you, ever.

For once, he saw exactly what he wanted, right in front of him, and he chose not to take it. He chose not to ruin whatever closeness he did have with the two of you. But more importantly, he chose not to ruin you and Eijirou’s chances at finding the happiness that you both deserved, far more than he did.

It was the most selfless thing he’d ever done. And it was the hardest thing he’d ever done too. He felt his heart break every time he saw the affectionate way you treated one another, but he bit his tongue. He tried to shove his feelings down deeper and deeper, but they kept coming back up, tightening around his throat like a noose until he choked.

The truth became quite apparent to him at one point. Loving you both from afar would be his undoing. And maybe he deserved it? Maybe this was his punishment for being an asshole and tearing others down for his own benefit for all those years.

He’d take his punishment. Just so long as he could continue to know you, even if he wanted to know you so much more.

God, he fucking loved hated you.

After the previous day’s study session, Katsuki needed a break from the two of you. He planned to spend most of the day training and holed up in his dorm, just to avoid you both as much as possible; to set his mind straight and get his feelings back where they belonged—locked away in a dark unlabeled box in his mind, along with all of his other unwanted thoughts and feelings. He was starting to lose his composure around you, and when that happened, he always tried to stay out of your way for a few days until he was “fine” again.

“Fine” had lost all its meaning months ago, and yet, he found himself saying it all too often.

“You okay, Kats? You’re not really on your A game today,” you said as you walked over to help him off the ground for the second time that day.

Katsuki scoffed, a low growl brewing in his throat as he spoke. “I’m fuckin’ fine. Wasn’t planning on having you idiots around, distracting me.”

You and Eijirou seemed to have the same idea about working out and training that day. Katsuki ran into you both on his way to the gym. Almost turned around and booked it back to the dorms, but you happened to see him and waved him over to join you. Both of you smiled happily as you greeted him. It pissed him off so much, but he couldn’t say no to you when you both looked so damn cute, asking him to join you with those sharp teeth and pretty eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

He wanted to curse you both out. Tell you to fuck off and leave him alone.

Get out of his fucking head, already! Stop torturing him with those fucking adorable smiles that made his heart clench in his chest! Stop being so fucking nice to him!

But he bit his tongue, salvaged whatever little composure and willpower he had left, and joined you both to train.

And he fucking sucked the whole time. It only added to his inner turmoil even more. He was too distracted. Too focused on you and Eijirou and the way you both looked so fucking good when you were focused, when you had sweat dripping down your skin, when you were looking at him with those determined eyes while sparring, when you didn’t hold back against him.

At least the two of you were more focused on him than each other, at the moment. Katsuki had insisted that you both took turns going against him until he kicked both of your asses. He was on round three, at this point. He had lost to you both a total of three times in a row.

He knew that you and Eijirou were starting to question his strange behavior lately. He practically stormed out of his own dorm the day prior during your study session together. He didn’t say a word. Just got up and left.

Why?

Because you and Eijirou. That’s why.

When he came back, things were awkward as the two of you tried to ask him about it. He didn’t look at either of you when he told you to leave, not wanting you to see his red, glossy eyes.

It was embarrassing, to feel this weak.

Eijirou knocked on his door later that evening to talk to him. He didn’t answer.

Now the two of you were obviously trying to pretend that everything was normal, for his sake, trying to gently coax whatever was bothering him out of his system in hopes that he’d come around and get out of whatever shitty headspace he was in. You were being good friends, like usual. Always so attentive and thoughtful and caring.

He wanted to scream.

This time, he managed to defeat Eijirou, but he could tell his moves were slightly slower. He was going fucking easy on him. The redhead giving him a pity win only managed to send Katsuki over the edge.

By the time it was your turn, he wasn’t even fully present in his body anymore. All he was focused on was winning one round. Just one solid win was all he needed.

He moved on autopilot, blocking and countering all your attacks swiftly as they came. Thankfully, you weren’t holding back. For a moment, he felt like he was finally winning at something. The suffocating feelings began to dissipate as the adrenaline high began to kick in, filling him with a sense of power and control.

Until you called for a pause.

“What the fuck! Why?!” he barked, smoke wafting off of his hot hands.

Eijirou held a hand out at him, signaling him to back off as he ran towards you. “Chill the fuck out man, they're hurt!”

“Huh?”

It was only then that he realized you were holding your weight on one leg, struggling to keep yourself balanced as you tried to stand on your own. Eijirou was quick to catch you before you fell.

You had an ugly burn on your leg from one of his explosions. He thought he had released it far enough away from you to dodge it. He was clearly wrong.

Katsuki’s head was fuzzy as he stared at you, frozen in place. Eijirou inspected your wound, offering you sweet words of comfort and praise as he carefully wrapped it with gauze.

Damn it.

Katsuki could barely breathe now. The noose growing tight around his throat again.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to Recovery Girl.” Eijirou lifted you up into his arms with ease, carrying you out of sight.

Your little whimper of pain shot straight through his heart.

Fuck.

“Come on, Katsuki!” Eijirou called out to him, slight urgency in his voice.

Katsuki remained frozen where he stood, hands clenched and chest heaving as he tried to fight back the tears that were building in his eyes. A million thoughts and feelings swirled inside of him, threatening to burst through the seams of his being.

“Kats?” Your voice sounded distant. It echoed in the background of his mind before it fully reached him.

“Go on without me,” was all he could say. He cringed at the way his voice wavered when he said it.

“Come on, man. You should-”

“Go!” Katsuki yelled, interrupting Eijirou’s attempt to change his mind.

All he heard after that was the sound of Eijirou’s footsteps as they faded away.

You and Eijirou had tried to reach out to Katsuki for four days. He somehow managed to avoid the two of you at every turn. He mostly stayed locked up in his dorm when school wasn’t in session. All calls went to voicemail. All texts left on read.

The two of you even went as far as to try to get Sero or Mina to check in on him. Denki offered to give it a shot, but you declined. You both knew he’d probably only aggravate him more, despite his best intentions.

Every plan of yours failed.

At one point, you couldn’t take it anymore and ended up crying to sleep in Eijirou’s arms one night. He shed a few tears himself as he tried to soothe your sadness and worry; all the while, he was struggling just as much.

You both missed your best friend. And despite your reassuring comments to each other that he would come back soon, that he just needed some space, you were both starting to crumble under the fear that maybe he wouldn’t. He had been acting strange lately, even before the most recent event occurred.

What if you had upset him? What if he was tired of being your friend? What if you were holding him back somehow?

Your thoughts spun in circles in your mind until you began to feel dizzy and sick to your stomach. After tossing and turning for hours that night, you headed down to the kitchen to make yourself some tea in hopes that it’d finally help you quiet your mind enough to allow you to get some much-needed sleep.

Thankfully, it did, because by the time Katsuki walked into the room to get some water after he couldn’t sleep, you were passed out with your head on the table, your hair sprawled out messily around you and your half-empty mug of cold tea.

You looked beautiful.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki cursed you in his head as he stared down at your hunched over, sleeping form.

The common room was so quiet this late at night, he could clearly hear your little breaths with every rise and fall of your chest. He spotted drool slightly dripping out of one side of your parted lips.

The sight made his heart flutter.

On your feet, he spotted those cute fluffy bunny slippers that him and Eijirou picked out for you one day at the mall. He remembered that day with fondness, how you all worked together in teams to find a pair of slippers for each other. In the end, Eijriou was happy to receive shark slippers and Katsuki was surprised with Grumpy Cat slippers. He could still hear both of your laughs as you made a comment about how his face matched his slippers perfectly.

Dammit, he missed your laughs so much.

He huffed in a mixture of sadness and frustration as he turned to walk away, only to stop himself in his tracks after a few steps. He took one look back at you over his shoulder before sighing in defeat.

Walking closer, he worked up the courage to wake you and subsequently face you for the first time in four days. What came out was much more aggressive than he intended.

“Oi!”

You jumped and his heart clenched slightly. He bit the inside of his cheek as you looked up at him, sleepy and confused.

“Ka’ski?” your sweet voice, thick with sleep, filled his ears. He clenched his fists, the bitter taste of blood filling his mouth.

“Go to your dorm. You’re gonna end up with a fucked up neck and back sleeping like that, idiot.”

He began to walk away after that, heading towards the elevator at the end of the room. He didn’t get far, though. The unpleasant screech of a chair on the hard floor, followed by the far more pleasant feeling of your hand wrapped around his wrist stopped him right in his tracks.

“Wait!”

“Go to bed, Y/N,” Katsuki warned. The last thing he wanted was to have whatever conversation you were attempting to start with him.

“No. I can’t sleep, anyway. I just keep worrying about you. Please. Just tell me what’s wrong and what I can do to fix it,” you implored.

Katsuki was tense under your grip, but he didn’t try to pull away, even as he let out a loud huff of frustration.

“Just fuck off, okay? There’s nothing you can do.”

You stared at the back of his head with so much pain and sadness in your eyes. Katsuki could feel your gaze on him. He knew better than to look back at you. That look alone would break his heart more than anything else could.

“I won’t ever stop trying, Katsuki. And neither will Eiji. We care about you so much. We miss you so badly. Please, just talk to me. If not me, then Eiji.” Your voice was starting to waver slightly as you spoke. Katsuki hated himself for being the reason behind your sadness and tears.

Even still, he couldn’t let you in on this. Neither you, nor Eijirou, could know. He just needed more time to sort out his feelings and lock them away, where they belonged. But after four days, he was still struggling to get himself back in order. All of it was starting to consume him, distract him, make him perform badly as a student and a hero in training. That part only encouraged him to avoid the two of you even more. He wasn’t going to let stupid feelings ruin everything he had worked so hard for.

His silence only pushed you to speak again.

“Katsuki?”

“No.” He pulled away from your grip, but you reached out to grab him again.

“Katsuki, please!”

He spun around to face you, eyes brimming with tears as he yelled in your face.

“What?! You just can't leave shit alone, can you?! Just fuck off, already!”

You looked at him with heartbroken eyes, biting your lower lip to suppress its quivering as tears began to fall down your face.

Fuck.

Katsuki inhaled sharply as his broken and battered heart shattered to pieces in his chest. Both of you were silent as you stared at one another, unsure of how to progress the conversation without breaking into a fit of tears.

“Fuck, I’m…I’m sorry,” Katsuki mumbled, voice just audible as he looked down at the ground between you. “Just leave me alone, okay? You and Ei are better off without me, anyway.”

He pulled away from your grip and this time, you didn’t reach for him again. However, your voice still followed him as he walked further away from you.

“How could you say that? You mean the world to us, Kats! We’re fucking lost without you! We need you. If this is about the other day, just forget about it. I’m fine. All is forgiven-”

“It’s not just about that.” He stopped in his tracks once more, back facing you.

“Then what is it about? Are you mad at me or Eijirou?”

Katsuki shook his head. Your confusion and desperation drew you closer to him. His feet remained glued to the floor.

“You’re not mad?”

“I-“ Katsuki stopped himself. “Just fuck off, Y/N. I’m not going to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Katsuki!”

"BECAUSE I- ugh!" he growled, "because it would be selfish of me to tell you! It’d only make things worse! I'm trying to be...fucking better than that."

You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued.

“It was selfish of me to stick around as long as I did. I should’ve just left the two of you be a long time ago. I thought I could-” He sighed. “Never mind. Point is, it’s gone too far. You even got hurt because of my stupid bullshit.”

“What has gone too far? Katsuki, stop talking like this. You’re not going anywhere. Let’s go wake Eiji and we’ll talk this out.” There was a clear presence of fear in your tone as you reached out to grab his left hand that was clenched in a tight fist at his side.

He ripped himself away from you. “No. This conversation is over.”

The way he spoke, his voice quiet, lacking any of his usual attitude, made your stomach twist in knots. He sounded so sad, so weak, completely defeated. It was completely unlike him, and it scared the shit out of you.

“I give you full permission to be selfish! Just fucking look at me! Tell me what’s wrong!” you begged.

At this point, you were seconds away from getting on your knees just to get his attention, or at the very least, pity. You couldn’t let him walk out of this room. You knew the chances of getting him to open up to you again after this were slim to none. This was it. You had to fight harder; show him you weren’t giving up on him, no matter how hard he pushed you away.

Katsuki was silent, but you could see the way his hands trembled at his sides; his head hung low, his chest heaving. You waited with bated breath behind him, praying he wouldn’t walk away.

Surprisingly, after what felt like a millennium, he turned to face you, his head still facing the floor.

You were scared to make the wrong move, as if you were faced with a small, wounded animal that could scurry off if you so much as breathed the wrong way.

“Kats?” you whispered softly. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

“Why do you say that? Katsuki, look at me.” You stepped forward and raised your hand, gently lifting his chin up so you could finally meet his eyes. What you saw broke your heart.

Red eyes glossed over with tears, lower lip quivering as he tried and failed to stifle the emotions that seemed to overtake him. Your eyes only filled with more tears of your own as you stared back at him sadly.

“I don’t want to see you happy without me,” he whispered, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I want to be the reason you are happy. I want to give you everything you deserve and more. Both of you.”

“Katsuki…You do make us happy. If anything, we are the least happy when you’re not around,” you said, fingers tracing down his wrist and giving his hand a small squeeze once he allowed you to grasp it. He only seemed to grow more upset at this as he looked down at your interlocked hands.

“But you don’t want me, you want each other.”

“What are you talking about? Of course, we wa-” You froze as realization hit you. “Wait…”

Katsuki made a tsk sound. "Looks like you finally got it. Took you long enough."

You blinked at him. "I- Kats, if you have something to tell me, you better say it now."

"I think you know. Why don't you tell me?"

He was too scared to say it and you knew it.

"Katsuki-"

"Tell me."

You sighed, suddenly growing nervous as you began to second-guess if what you were about to say was actually correct. Katsuki's hold on your hand grew tighter as he awaited your answer. If he wasn't so focused on what you were about to say, he'd be embarrassed about the growing dampness between your palms.

"I...do you....do you have...feelings....for me and Eiji?"

Katsuki’s silence was all the confirmation you needed. You let out a breath of relief.

“Kats-”

“Do you?” he asked, before clarifying. “Have feelings for me? If the answer is ‘no’, say it now and we’ll never speak about it again.”

You stepped closer to him, slippers touching his as you looked at him with soft eyes.

"What if the answer is ‘yes’?" you whispered.

For a moment, you both exchanged glances between eyes and lips, your hearts racing as you awaited the other’s move.

Finally, Katsuki spoke.

"Do I still have permission to be selfish?"

You nodded, and before you knew it, his hands were on either side of your face, and his lips were crashing against yours.

He pushed you against the nearby wall, never breaking his lips from yours, as he kissed you hungrily, desperately, lovingly. You ran your fingernails up the nape of his neck, weaving your fingers through his messy blond locks and earning a groan from him as he pulled you closer by your hips and deepened the kiss even more.

By the time he came up for air, you were both panting heavily. His grip on your hips didn’t loosen and neither did yours around his neck as you stared at each other speechlessly.

After a moment, your lips formed into a smile.

“We’ve been wanting to tell you,” you confessed.

Katsuki’s soft smile quickly faded into a bewildered frown. “Hah?”

“Eijirou and I, we want you, Katsuki. As far more than a friend.”

Katsuki visibly stopped breathing for a brief moment. You nervously continued to speak.

“But there’s no pressure or anything! We just wanted to talk to you about how we feel, not just for each other, but for you. Every time we’d try, you stormed off, or were clearly out of it, so we were too nervous to bring it up.”

“How long?”

Now it was your turn to look confused.

“What?”

“How long have you and Eijirou been talking about this?”

“Well, we confessed to each other almost two weeks ago-”

“Two weeks?! Fuck you!” he cursed.

You gasped. “Hey! Watch it, mister!”

“Fuck you for ruining my life by making me love you so goddamn much! And fuck both of you for not telling me sooner and letting me suffer! Do you have any idea how painful it has been watching the two of you idiots and your stupid cutesy, touchy, flirty bullshit, every single day?” he ranted, obviously frustrated, but not truly directed at you.

“Aw, Kats…We didn’t realize-”

“’Course you didn’t! You were too wrapped up in each other! I always thought you’d never return my feelings because it was obvious you two were obsessed with each other.”

This time, he sounded sad. You cupped his face with your hands, gently running your thumbs over his soft cheeks.

“We have always been obsessed with you too, Kats. It’s not that we didn’t want to be that way with you too. We were just never quite sure about your feelings for us and we didn’t want to cross any lines or make you uncomfortable,” you explained.

He let out a sigh, eyes closing as he relaxed into your touch.

“We should talk with Ei tomorrow,” you said.

He nodded in agreement, soaking up the feeling of your touch; something he had dreamed of and desperately craved for so long. Finally, his dreams were coming true. He was melting between the palms of your hands, and he couldn't have been happier about it.

Now that he'd had a taste, he'd be damned if he were to ever let you go.

“You’re mine now. Got it?” he said, his hands slightly squeezing your hips as he looked into your eyes.

You smirked amusingly at him. “Woah there, don’t get too selfish now. You gotta share.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. I don't mind sharing. So long as it's with Shitty Hair, I can manage. That doesn’t mean you’re not mine, though!”

You giggled, pulling him in for another kiss, to which he happily obliged. This time, he kissed you back tenderly, savoring every second of your soft lips on his. You melted into him completely, allowing him to pull you even closer against him, his strong arms keeping you locked in place.

You placed a hand on his chest at one point, signaling that you needed air. He grunted before reluctantly pulling away.

He pressed his forehead against yours, smirking at the way you grew visibly flustered under his intensely loving gaze.

“It’s late. W-We should get to bed.”

He hummed in response. “Fine.”

Taking your hand, he walked you over to the elevator across the room, both of you still silently processing all that had just happened until you finally reached the large metal doorway.

You stepped inside the elevator, bidding him goodnight.

“Night,” he said, turning around and beginning to walk away.

His feet came to a halt when he felt a sudden, familiar urge take over him, and this time, he didn’t fight it. Before he knew it, he had his arm between the metal doors, forcing them to reopen.

“Kats-”

He interrupted you by crashing his lips against yours once more, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you with everything he had. Every skipped beat of his heart, every pang in his stomach, every moment of longing, every loving thought he’d ever had of you flashed through his mind. For once, he wasn’t concerned about ruining anything, of hurting anyone, of losing you. All he cared about was satisfying the insufferable itch of longing and desire he’d carried for you all this time.

Finally, the noose was gone, the bad feelings dissipating while the others became one with his being. He could breathe again.

When he pulled away, he was smiling. He was happy.

And you were too. Happy because of him. Happy with him.

“You should be selfish more often,” you said, still trying to catch your breath.

Katsuki stopped the doors from closing in on him, his eyes still locked on you as he let out a chuckle.

“That’s a first. Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”

He backed out of the elevator, finally allowing the doors to close. You stared at him as heat rushed to your face, capturing a glimpse of his growing smirk until he was no longer in sight.

Katsuki Bakugou was a selfish man.

And oh, did you love every bit of him.

*The next day*

"Mannn...I can't believe you guys kissed for the first time and I wasn't even there for it!" Eijirou whined, an adorable pout on his face as he looked between the two of you.

"Are you jealous, Eiji?" you teased, lightly nudging him with your elbow.

"Yes! Do you know how long I've been waiting to kiss you both? It's been torture holding out from kissing you while waiting for Katsuki to get on board, and now I've come to find out that you two were making out for the first time without me?!"

Katsuki shrugged, nodding towards you. "They gave me permission. Blame them."

Eijirou scoffed. "I sure hope they did!"

"He means, I gave him permission to be selfish. I didn't know he was going to kiss me when I said that," you clarified.

"Oh, you knew, and you sure as hell didn't stop me."

"Well, of course not!" you said.

Katsuki smirked at you and you felt heat rush to your face. A brief knowing look was shared between the two of you as you recalled the events of the previous night.

Eijirou watched your silent interaction, his pout increasing as he whined. "I wanna kiss you both too!"

"You snooze, you lose," Katsuki said, breaking his stare away from you and taking a sip of his coffee.

Eijirou narrowed his eyes at him. "Scratch that. I definitely don't wanna kiss you right now."

"Hey!" Katsuki barked, looking at the redhead offendedly.

You giggled at them both, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks.

"Both of you, hush. We have plenty of time for kissing later. Now, let's get to work! We can't fail this exam!"

Katsuki rolled his eyes, trying to fight off the growing redness on his cheeks. "Now look who's all ready to study, for once."

"Well, we gotta make sure we all pass! I'm not being left in the dust by the two of you just because of one stupid failed exam!" you said.

Eijirou’s eyes softened as he looked at you. "Aw, hun, we would never."

Katsuki nodded in agreement. "Damn straight. I'll make sure both of you idiots pass, even if I have to jam all the information into your heads myself."

"That always works with me! Right, Kats?" Eijirou flashed his sharp toothy smile.

Katsuki hummed, growing even more flustered over how cute the redhead looked when he smiled at him like that. Thankfully, you managed to draw the attention away from him long enough for him to hide his fond smile. He couldn't let either of you know just how soft he was for you, yet.

A giggle fell past your lips as you spoke. "Good for you, Eiji. But I'd like to refrain from developing a concussion the day before the exam."

Katsuki’s attention moved back to you, a cocky smirk growing on his face. "I could always kiss the information into you."

Eijirou gasped. "What?! No fair!"

"Both of you, be quiet and focus! Or no kisses at all!”

. . .

That shut them right up.

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