#kirishima one shot fluff

[angel-sweets666]

Puppy love

middle school kirishima x middle school popular! reader

Kirishima, a social outcast who barely anyone knows has a crush on a popular girl. He has barely any chance, right?

warning: a bit of angst mostly fluff also your supposed to be shorter then him in this

a/n I THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE ADORABLE! I LOVE LOVE LOVE KIRISHIMA

Kirishima always admired you, always. Since he started middle school he would watch you from afar and just think about how pretty you were, how adorable you were. But as the months ticked on, you became popular and soon enough you were out of his reach.

kirishimas friends always laughed at him for liking you since you would never date him! Or… so they thought.

You whined and tried to drown out Mina's relentless teasing. "Really? Kirishima? The one with the hardening quirk? Awww, that's so cute!" she exclaimed, hopping around with excitement. Her voice echoed through the hallway, drawing unwanted attention. In a panic, you shot up from your seat and quickly covered her mouth, your eyes darting around to see if Kirishima was nearby. "Shut up!!!" you hissed, your face burning with embarrassment. You could feel Mina's laughter against your hand as she continued to giggle.

You blushed and covered your face, hiding the redness of your cheeks. Mina giggled again “hey! It’s no big deal! He’s tall! And he’s cute!” You pushed her chest “back up!” Your possessiveness over him came out. Mina laughed “your down bad!” She grabbed your shoulders and shook you with with excitement.

You and Mina walked down the halls, you could sense someone staring at you. You turned to see who it was, only to make awkward eye contact with eijiro kirishima! You both blushed and looked away, you could hear the deep laughter of kirishimas friends which made the embarrassment soo much worse. Mina smiled brightly and wrapped her arm around you “one day! He’ll ask you out! I know it!”

if only he’d ask you out…..

Mina stomped over, a grumpy look on her pink face. "Kirishima!" she yelled, trying to get the boy's attention. Kirishima turned to look at her, worry etched on his face. Was he in trouble? What had he done? What if she jumped him?

"I gotta ask you something," she said firmly.

"O-okay…?" he stuttered in response.

"Do you or do you not like name?" she demanded, grabbing his shoulders to prevent him from escaping the question.

"W-w-w-wha? N-no!" he stammered.

"Bullshit," came a voice from behind. Kirishima's friend stepped in. "He's in love with her. I'd say it's puppy love, but he literally adores her every body part. It's kinda creepy," his friend whispered the last part.

"Hey!" Kirishima yelped, his face turning crimson.

"Oh thank God!" Mina sighed in relief, her tense shoulders relaxing.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "Wha-?"

"Nothing!" Mina blurted, and with that, she turned and ran away.

Now kirishima had a reason to believe that you liked him back, his determination to win you over becoming stronger. One random Tuesday, a hand taps you on the shoulder. You turn to face whosever this was, only to come face to face with kirishima “oh.. hey!” You managed to get out from the initial shock “hey.. Uhm” he stuttered “do.. do you know who I am?” “Eijiro kirishima” you blurted out almost immediately “I mean.. your kirishima? Right?” You tried to fix yourself up, tucking a lock behind your ear. Kirishimas eyebrows raised from the fact you so easily knew his name, most people barely knew him and if they did they were his friends and he only had about 5 friends in the whole school. “Yeah.. I am” he smiled.. he smiled a genuine smile. Showing off his sharp teeth “woah.. your teeth are sharp!” You looked surprised and shuffled closer to him so you could get a good look at his teeth. Kirishimas face turned pink “h-h-h-hey b-bit close there..” he didn’t try to back away however.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" you said, backing away. In the distance, you could see Mina grinning from ear to ear. You then looked back at Kirishima. "So… what can I help you with?" you asked, smiling sweetly and trying to act natural.

"U-uh, t-this… flower… it made me think of you," he stammered, quickly handing you a pink tulip that he had clearly found in the school garden.

"Oh, Kirishima, thank you!" you said, genuinely moved by his gift.

"N-no problem…" he mumbled, standing there awkwardly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Kirishima inhaled deeply, trying to settle his nerves. When he exhaled, he looked down at you and blurted out, "Gee… you're a bit short." His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Hey! That's not fair—you’re just tall!" you whined, crossing your arms in mock anger.

Mina seemed more than pleased with what was unfolding before her eyes. "I-I’m sorry! I-it’s just you are small! It's not a big deal!" Kirishima stammered, trying to comfort you after inadvertently insulting you.

You turned around, facing away from him, pouting in exaggerated anger. Kirishima sighed and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry…"

Your face flushed pink again as you turned to face him. "It's fine… just… don't do it again!" you whined, unable to stay mad at him.

Kirishima chuckled and nodded. "Okay, I won't. Promise."

You blushed again, feeling the warmth of his presence. He seemed so sincere, so kind, and his touch was so warm that it made your heart race.

suddenly the bell interrupted your interaction. You sighed in disappointment “well.. see you later?” Yiu looked up at him hopefully, he blushed and his face lit up “yeah.. see ya”

over the next few days you and kirishima spent more and more time together, often finding ways to run off from your friends and hang out.

One day, you waited for all your friends to run off and do other stuff just so you could sneak away and run in the direction were you and kirishima normally met up. You had gotten his message to signify that he was there so you knew where he was. You giggled and jumped onto the boys back, he yelped in surprise “hey *name*!” he said with a chuckle, patting your thigh as he bent his knees you help you slide down “let’s go to the cafeteria! They have pizza today and I REALLY WANT SOMEE” you insisted “I dunno… maybe I just wanna chill” he mumbled, tilting his head for you to follow him.

you two began walking through the court yard, talking and joking around. He seemed happier but more nervous than usual. The occasional stutter turning into a more frequent stammer. You just thought it was all the hormones of being 14, suddenly when kirishima brought you to a more… private place. He sighed “*name* I need to ask you something” he said with a determined look on his face “yeah? What’s up?” You asked, tilting your head to the side

“will you… will you be my girlfriend?!” He blurted out loudly, his fists curling up in nervousness. Your whole face turned pink “r-really? Yeah! Yeah I will!” You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck, he blushed and sighed in relief. Kirishima placed his hands around your waist, you two hugging each other.

“AWWW GUYS!” Mina squealed, turns out she had followed you “SHUT UP.” You two screamed and you hid your face in his chest.

a year later

Now a days things are a little less awkward, you even got to share a dorm after convincing aizawa to let you guys. You rolled over in bed and buried your face in the crook of kirishimas neck “hey Bub” he said as he grabbed your thigh and brought it up to his hip. “Comfy?” He murmured and kissed your forehead, his warm lips pressed against your skin “mhm.. yeah..” you ran your fingers through his freshly re dyed red hair.

“I love you”

“I love you too kiri”

[grenadehearts]

you're so gorgeous, i can't say anything to your face!

authors note: e.kirishima x f!reader.. (yes the title is referencing a taylor song) m.list here and commissions are open!

You were utterly infatuated with the muscled redhead who had just waltzed into the bar, the purple hue of the strobe lights dancing beautifully across his tan skin.

And when you saw the scars adorning his arms and hands, you knew you were fucked.

As if that wasn’t enough, he just had to stalk his way toward you—long legs, long strides, straight in your direction.

Oh, and you were totally not prepared. Your hands were clammy, your eyeliner was definitely smudged—shit—and he was getting closer. Panicked, you shot up from your seat, drink in hand, and sprinted to the bar, away from your booth.

"Fuck."

The curse left your lips just as your drink sloshed over, spilling all over the man in front of you. And when you looked up—oh, you were sure God himself had turned this into your own personal hell. Because there, standing in the flesh, was the red-haired, muscle-bound man.

A string of muttered "please kill me, please kill me, please kill me" spilled from your lips as he leaned down, cocking his head to the side.

"What was that?"

And when you looked up—thump.

You bumped heads with him, the sound somehow audible over the crowded, loud room.

Yep. You were definitely never leaving your house after this.

Instead of saying sorry—or even acknowledging him—you turned and ran.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you speed-walked away from this stupidly gorgeous man.

But persistent, he was.

He jogged after you, fingers wrapping around your forearm. "Miss!" he called, voice firm but not unkind.

You twisted, trying to slip away, but in your haste, your heel snapped.

And down you went.

You barely registered the pain in your ankle before you hit the floor, your purse spilling open, its contents scattering across the ground.

And—oh, my god—before you could even get your bearings, before the hot, wet tears threatening to spill could even be blinked away, there he was.

All 6 foot of him, crouched in front of you, rough, calloused hands carefully gathering your scattered belongings. His brow furrowed in concentration, and—fuck—he looked gorgeous.

And you? You couldn’t even speak. 

Then, as if the universe wasn’t already cruel enough, he turned to face you, kind yet devastatingly beautiful as he offered you a hand.

And the dummy—the stupid, terrible, awkward dummy—you were, you covered your face.

But, annoyingly perfect as he was, he simply placed his hands over yours, his voice impossibly gentle as he asked, "Is this okay?" before slowly moving your hands away from your face.

And then, the final nail in the coffin:

"You’re so pretty. Don’t hide yourself."

And just like that, you lost it.

Wet, heavy tears spilled down your cheeks, leaving you looking like a raccoon—flushed cheeks, pink nose—and you were sure a snot bubble just escaped as you hiccuped.

His face turned beet red as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Um… uh, shit. I’m sorry. Did I—did I do something? I’m—uh, not really this forward, and uh—" He trailed off, looking at your sniffling, snot-nosed mess of a face before groaning, palming his own face with a dramatic sigh.

"Oh no, I’m such a douchebag," he muttered into his hand. "You’re in such a vulnerable moment, and I just—geez, man, I’m sorry. But you were just so pre—"

Before he could finish, you scooted closer, cradling his rough, calloused hands in your softer ones. His shirt was still damp from the drink you’d spilled on him, but you didn’t care. You gently pulled his hands away from his face and murmured, "Don’t hide yourself, too, cute."

And yeah, maybe you were never this forward. Maybe it was the drinks.

Or maybe… just maybe, it was because he had seen you sprawled on the floor—a pathetic, heaving mess—and still called you pretty.

His eyes widened, the dark rouge of them deepening, as a blush spread across his face. Then, to your utter surprise, he ducked his head and buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a muffled groan.

You giggled.

Then, the voice low, warm his breath brushing against your ear, as he mumbled:

"I’m Ejiro Kirishima."

[ackermai07]

Hi! Could you write a one shot for Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima where the class is watching a movie or something at the dorms and their crush falls asleep on them? I can see the boys getting all blushy when she unconsciously snuggles up closer to them 🥰🥰

Thank you!

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵒ���ᵃˡᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗ ᵘᵍʰʰʰʰʰ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᵗ

wearning! : pure fluff

Don't repost please!!

"Is everyone ready?"

Mina shouted, making sure everything was set and everyone was prepared.

In short, what was happening was that tomorrow is a holiday, and after a tiring week, the girls suggested the idea of watching a movie (the kind you like), staying up late, and enjoying themselves to compensate for the positive energy lost through training and studying, and of course, everyone agreed.

𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶

The surprise was how this early-to-bed, serious guy had actually agreed to this silly movie night offer, but of course, no one dared to comment on it (they didn't want to be the reason for him changing his mind).

"Tsk... why on earth did I agree to watch this stupid movie in the first place," Bakugo muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where the movie was playing. Truthfully, he knew the reason he was here- 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

Bakugo had always admired your confident, composed, and intelligent personality, to the point where he found himself gradually falling for you, struggling to break free from its grasp.

Another annoyed sigh escaped his lips, feigning irritation as usual, but deep down, he was genuinely happy to be sitting next to you on the couch, able to inhale your soothing scent.

It didn't take another minute before he felt a weight on his shoulder. His eyebrow raised in confusion, and when he turned his head to see, he was met with your lovely, soft face resting on his shoulder. The boy swore he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, and for a moment, he stopped thinking, just staring at you with flushed cheeks, thankfully unnoticed in the dimmed lights.

"Oi... you," he said in his rough tone, which seemed calmer, then lightly shrugs trying to wake you up. "You'll miss the damn movie... wake up."

Meanwhile, all he got in response was a sleepy nuzzle from you, moving closer to hug his side more, enjoying the warmth emanating from him.

Poor Bakugo stopped his movements and froze in place for about a few minutes. The first to notice was Kirishima, who turned to see what was up with his friend.

"Hey Baku-bro, what's wro..."

And there Kirishima caught sight of your sleeping form next to him, a wide grin spreading across his face. Even before he spoke, Bakugo silently gestured to him, thus ensuring he stayed close to you for a longer period.

He absentmindedly played with your hair, eliciting contented hums from you, which seemed to draw the attention of the entire class towards you two. Oh, and don't worry about any commotion; once Bakugo gives them the death glare, they'll turn away without saying a word.

(half of the class has fallen asleep already, anyway).

By the end of the movie, he didn't even realize he had fallen asleep, his head resting on yours, inhaling your refreshing scent and feeling your warmth.

(This incident might actually serve as a strong incentive for him to hurry up and confess to you as soon as possible).

𝗧𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗼

It was known that Shoto often found himself in these kinds of nights, spending time with his friends, and with you, the love of his life.

Both of you attended the same middle school, and there were many clashes between you, but at that time, Shoto was only focused on his deep-seated hatred for his father.

Now, at U.A. High School, he found the time to develop his feelings for you, thus becoming immersed in love for you.

And there he was now, on the floor in front of the TV, covered with blankets for comfortable seating. You were sitting beside him, and oh, how difficult it was for him to focus on the movie content with you so close.

He also threw sidelong glances at you, admiring your focused face on the screen, and your slightly parted lips from concentrating so hard on the events. Honestly, he wished desperately to overwhelm your lips with kisses until you couldn't breathe (you can't really blame him).

As he was lost in his fantasies, he suddenly felt something descending onto his lap. And guess what? It was your head being placed on his lap.

The poor boy's brain stopped functioning as he tried to process what had just happened.

(He also felt like his heart stopped for a moment.)

"Y/n... y-you okay?" Shoto whispered softly to you, making sure only you could hear him, and his hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, while a terrible blush spread across his cheeks.

The poor boy wasn't used to being affectionate :(

"Very... sleepy," was your only response as you hugged his waist and snuggled closer to his left side where warmth emanated.

Let's say he miraculously managed to control his quirk so as not to accidentally hurt you.

Meanwhile, the boy's heart swelled with emotions, and he found himself gently stroking your hair, a small smile adorning his handsome face.

And as soon as the movie ended, he carried you bridal-style and took you to your room under Momo's guidance, making sure not to wake you up at all.

On the other hand, he couldn't sleep a wink that night, but be prepared to receive the most beautiful confession in your life soon.

Bonus points: His desire to kiss you became unbearable.

𝗞𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮 𝗘𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗿𝘂𝗼

He was one of the biggest supporters of the idea, especially since you were the one who suggested it, so of course he would always support your opinion.

He always did, seeing you as a fun person who radiated warmth like the sun, an optimistic personality he fell for boundlessly.

You were always a source of inspiration for him with your positive energy, encouraging him and praising his perseverance, and in return, he gave you the brightest smile.

His friends somehow learned about his secret admiration for you (Mina was the reason... ahem)

and they always tried to involve you both more to bring you closer together.

This event was no different as they made sure you two were close to each other, leaving the couch for you to sit on together.

(Kaminari was included to sit next to Kirishima just to make it less suspicious.)

Now, in the middle of the movie, just like Shoto, he couldn't focus at all.

He was just captivated by the little sounds you made whenever an exciting scene came up or your eyes sparkled with interest at what was shown on the screen in front of you.

He was literally in his own world, worshiping your facial expressions and your gentle demeanor.

But at some point, he stopped paying attention to you, replacing it with discussing the details of the movie with Kaminari. Then, in a sudden moment, he felt something land on his chest... it was your head.

The boy quickly covered his mouth to suppress the scream that was about to burst from the depths of his heart.

In contrast to the two above, he had a quick response as he gently shook your shoulder.

"Y/n, y-you awake?" His voice came out as a somewhat quiet tune, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Sorry... feeling sleepy... just... a little nap." After that, you held onto his arm and used his muscular chest as a pillow, drifting back to sleep.

Because of your action, his quirk activated for a few seconds, and he slapped his own face out of embarrassment and happiness he felt.

Your sudden move caught the red-haired boy off guard to the point he didn't know how to react :(

"Yes, of course... it wouldn't be manly of me to move and disturb you," he muttered to himself in embarrassment, stiffening in his position before wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

But he forgot about Kaminari, who saw everything and struggled to suppress his laughter as he ran away, catching the attention of the class, only to stare at both of you in awe and admiration.

All I can say is that by tomorrow, you'll see plenty of pictures taken of you sleeping on Kirishima, and his friends endlessly teasing him about it.

Then get ready for his confession of his feelings for you.

ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ

ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ

sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

[carefreecoffee]

: ̗̀➛Fluffbruary Day 9: Snow w/Kirishima Eijirou: ̗̀➛

Word count: 863, Gender-Neutral reader

The snow has finally fallen! You and Kirishima had been waiting all winter for this and thankfully, Jack Frost delivered. You had been happily creating a rather large snowman, the effort evident. Kiri pick’s up a snowball, molding it to perfection before throwing it at you, hitting the side of your face. Quickly, he covers his mouth trying not to laugh, thinking he’d get in trouble for the harmless fun.

You pause your movements, eyes wide in shock as you crane your neck to look at him. You slide the back of your mitted hand across your face, swiping the powdery snow off and away. “You're gonna get it now!” you swiftly take the head off of the snowman, the ball of snow packed and ready as you charge toward him.

Kirishima’s eyes go wide with a look of absolute panic as you chase him. In his attempted escape, he ends up slipping on some ice, falling onto his back. He struggles to get up as he desperately tries to crawl away, his face is completely beat red at this point.

You throw the poor snowmans head directly down at him, the snow cold on his exposed neck and now running down the gap in his coat. The mass amount of snowy coldness hits his skin, causing him to shiver and jerk. As it gets into his jacket, Kirishima starts to shiver more, quickly starting to shake the snow away from his body. Eventually he manages to get up, his body shaking and teeth chattering “y-you’re so m-mean…” He says as he rubs his hands together to warm himself up. He glanced at you with a fake pout.

You can't help but double over laughing as your cheeks tinted red. “Haha! Aw sorry Kiri, too cold for ya?” 

“Heeeeeeey!” he whines before sticking his tongue out. He stomps over to you, grabbing some snow as he takes advantage of your giggling mess, shoving it in your face as you practically did his.  “Payback.”

You push his arm away, the cold snow tingling on your face. You greedily scoop up more snow into your palms, blindly aiming at each other. After a bit of back and forth, he suddenly grabs a large amount of snow and pushes it into you, knocking you over until you lose your balance, falling into the vat of snow beneath you. “HA! Take that!” He says triumphantly with a large smile on his face. He stands over you with his hands on his hips, smiling wide as ever. After a hot second, he notices that you don’t get up. His brows furrowed a bit out of worry “Uh… are you alright?” He kneels down and looks at you, his hand going to reach toward the scarf that concealed your face during the fall.

Next thing he knows, snow is shoveled into his face once more. “HEY! NOOO” He cries out in shock. He falls onto his back, wiping his face as fast as he can “Not fair! Not fair at all!” Your giggles fill the air, attempting to get up. However, the ice had other plans, bringing you down once more with a grunt. “Hey! Be careful!” he shouts, “Ice… is very slippery y’know.” He says, stating the obvious. He slowly gets up and goes over to you, holding a hand out.

You huff at the obvious comment, taking his hand and pushing yourself up. “No shit huh” Kiri smiles sheepishly, embarrassed by his previous comment “Hey! You don’t gotta be sassy with me…” He starts to rub his thumb gently across the back of your hand, a soft mention of affection. “I’m just trying to help… I don’t want you to get hurt because I wasn’t paying attention y’know?”

You glance at him, your cheeks red from the cold, snow still evident on your eyelashes “I know i know, but i knew i could rough you up even a little a bit” His heart thumps in his chest as he glances over your face. He feels his face start to heat up at the image of your cute face in the snow. He grins, looking back down at you 

“Oh yeah? And just what part of me have you roughed up…?” You point out his reddened, snow kissed face. “A good amount I'd say, sure got you shivering” He groans playfully at you pointing out his shivering “Hey! It got in my jacket- it’s cold, you can’t blame me for having a normal human reaction!” He says playfully, letting go of your hand to rub his arms to warm himself up. 

“Yeah yeah i get it” You glance back over at the now decapitated snowman, feeling just a bit of pity for the thing. “Uhh we should probably give him his head back” He nods, turning to look at the poor thing. He lets out a snort and nods with a stifled laugh “Yeah we should…”

After a bit of a truce, the snowman was put together once more. Both of your efforts showed through the care that the snow was carved with. Maybe you could finally forgive him for all of his frozen torture.

Just this once. 

[sun-flower-children]

Can I have a headcanon with Kirishima and bakugo with a rich rich rich rich reader?

💵stay well!

i'd be more than happy too :))

now ofc (y/n) would definitely have the old money kinda money

iykyk kind of money

all their stuff looks nice but no one really knows exactly how nice

except bakugo

mf can spot anything of high quality miles away and know their brand

he chooses to dress the way he dresses doesn't mean he doesn't know his couture

hes not a barbarian duh

now kirishima will know due his bestie relations with bakugo

bakugo would so point out the kiri what (y/n) is wearing and what kind of bags all their luggage is in.

you best believe this guy stalks the internet for any information of your family because ofc any one from that kind of money is going to have some important quirk

now kiri becomes quick friends with (y/n) no problem

once yall have been friends for long enough (y/n) is buying all sorts of things for their friends:

food / snacks

movies

tickets to concerts

merch of both heroes and music artsists

the best quality drum set there is for bakugo

the highest and newest gym set for kiri

groceries for baku

eventually a whole skincare routine for the both of them

kiri gets really ashy and bakugo is oily af

they absolutely clown you for being a trust fund baby but will defend you from anyone that says that you are only here bc of your family.

bakugo will jump anyone who tries anything afterwards

kiri forgives, but he never forgets

A/N: im probably going to come back to this one but for now :)

[lance-space-mommy]

It’s Kind Of Diabolical

UA was a dream school that people all around the world tried to get into. Not only was it ranked number one in all of Japan, but the school was undefeated in all categories. Whatever category an individual could think of Dean Nezu did everything in his power to make the school the best in said category.

The 3% acceptance rate showed how picky the admissions team was.

Izuku Midoriya was considered one of the smartest students in the school. There were only two people that ranked higher than him in the entire building across all majors. Izuku was in a medical and pharmaceutical concentration of Biology and Chemistry. The double major was hell on earth, but he topped that off with a physics and psychology minor.

No one in the school, including the teachers, understood how he managed his time juggling countless classes all at once. Still, Izuku loved to learn, and he put his full effort into completing every class to near perfection. He worked very closely with his advisors Toshinori Yagi and Aizawa Shota. They complimented each other and it helped Izuku a lot with moving forward and making decisions based on their advice.

Everyone was always talking about Izuku and every move he made. Still, Izuku had something that he kept to himself. Izuku was a professional athlete.

The only reason no one knew was because he didn’t play for the college, making it significantly easier for him to keep it a secret. Well, to a degree he could hide it. He competed in high level competitions, and many were non-profit to raise awareness for important causes. His high ranking often led him to speaking in interviews about the cause.

Izuku was an angel on earth.

Katsuki Bakugo was average in school. He was naturally smart and put as little effort into his schoolwork as possible. Katsuki was a business major with two minors. One was in marketing and another in accounting. As long as he got an A in the class, he didn’t try to push himself harder. His main focus was on sports. After all, he was the captain of the football team and spent most of his free time training.

The school's meal plan was heavily abused by Katsuki as he was often seen inhaling food with his friends whenever he wasn’t in the gym or on the field. The training and consistent meal plan helped him greatly. Katsuki was well built with muscles that made half of the campus jealous and the other half lovesick.

Despite all the attention Katsuki got, he remained single. He appreciated his fans to a degree, but never engaged with them. He enjoyed the chase and the rush he got from the attention. Still, he loved playing football, and he loved his teammates. He’d never let a relationship, or other outside influences distract him.

That was until his best friend, also the vice-captain of the football team, decided it was time to flip his life upside down.

“Who’s that talking to Coach Toshinori?” asked Kaminari excitedly upon seeing a cute boy appear on the fields.

Katsuki didn’t bother looking, not interested in hearing gossip about some stranger. Kirishima on the other hand perked up when he noticed who Kaminari was talking about. “That’s Midoriya! He’s insane.”

Kirishima’s statement caught the attention of Katsuki and the rest of the team. Sero recognized Izuku as well and commented, “Yeah, isn’t he doing a double major and double minor?”

“That’s him! Mina told me that he’s already been accepted by every high end medical school he’s applied to,” revealed Kirishima, happy to say his girlfriend's name every chance he got.

Kaminari stared at Izuku from afar, letting his mouth catch flies. Once he let a couple of moments pass by, he snapped back into focus and smirked. “So, he’s smart and successful. Wait, how does Mina know him?”

“Mutual friends, apparently Midoriya is super popular. Almost everyone knows him, so I’m surprised you don’t,” responded Kirishima slowly, letting his gaze return to Izuku.

Toshinori flashed a wide smile at Izuku, ruffling the fluffy locks of green hair. The excited voices of the duo faintly reached the group's ears. Tetsutetsu chuckled to himself before jerking a thumb over to where they were standing. “Looks like he just got accepted to another school.”

Katsuki’s gaze was fierce, but he couldn’t stop the foreign rushing of his heart. There was something about this smartass chatting with his coach that irritated Katsuki. No matter how much he wanted to roll his eyes and redirect the conversation, he knew Izuku would be on his mind.

Fate had funny ways of bringing destined lovers together.

Three weeks was all it took for Katsuki cave into obsession. He hadn’t realized just how big of a figure Izuku had been in the school. After that fateful day, it seemed that anytime he’d be in the food hall or was hanging out with his friends, he’d hear chatter about the mysterious genius.

All alone in his room with thirty minutes until his bedtime, Katsuki started digging. He found some online interviews with Izuku talking about the charities he’s worked with. Then Katsuki found his social media account that talked about plans for his future, study tips, and a plethora of random school-related things.

It only took a minute of scrolling for Katsuki to realize this wasn’t Izuku’s personal account. No matter how much he dug, he couldn’t find any pictures of Izuku at these apparent parties or hangouts with his friends that Mina claimed he had.

The following morning came around and like clockwork, Izuku would become a part of his life.

The football team huddled around Coach Toshinori when he clapped his hands together with his usual blinding smile. “Look alive! As you all know, the season is starting to pick up and now more than ever, we need to engage with the public. We are the best school in all of Japan and we need to maintain that status. So, I want you to take to social media and hold mini interviews with people in busy areas!”

Katsuki shrugged, not bothered by the assignment. It wasn’t like he had any intention of being the one doing the interviewing. If he partnered with Kirishima who was more of a people person, then he could just record the interviews.

“Let’s do this Bakugo!” cheered Kirishima loudly, letting his manly persona take over.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his phone. “Shut up Shitty Hair! Do you want to scare away everyone with your screaming?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, Kirishima turned back to where people were moving in and out of shops. “Oops, you’re right. Sorry man.”

Huffing, Katsuki prepared his phone to record as Kirishima asked individuals if they’d be willing to be interviewed. Most of the time it took one look at Kirishima and Bakugo for people to say yes. It may have been the duo’s good looks, or their UA letter jackets, but people were fast to do an interview.

They had already held short interviews with ten people by the time their interest had fully worn off. Kirishima groaned, crashing on a nearby bench. “Why does Coach want us to interview fifteen people? We are going to have way too much footage,” noted Kirishima as he watched people pass by.

“Stop complaining, we are almost finished,” grumbled Katsuki, scrolling through the countless videos on his phone.

“Easy for you to say! You haven’t talked to one person,” scoffed Kirishima, failing at guilt tripping Katsuki.

Raising a brow with an unimpressed expression, Katsuki shrugged it off. “Not my problem.”

Kirishima spotted a familiar face in the crowd and his face lit up like a little kid on their birthday. “No way! Is that Midoriya? What are the odds we see him here?”

Katsuki was already handing his phone to Kirishima, not bothering to look back or wait for his friend. “Record me.”

The eagerness Katsuki displayed to interview Izuku let Kirishima know everything. Katsuki had a fat crush on Izuku. He’d never pass up a moment to record Katsuki making a fool of himself. Moments like these were rare and Kirishima usually failed to capture the moment in a picture or video.

Once the redhead caught up to where Katsuki had greeted Izuku, he caught the end of their exchange of pleasantries.

Izuku flashed a soft smile at Katsuki. “It’s nice to meet you in person! Toshinori tells me a lot about you.”

Kirishima was already recording with a bright smile. “Hi Midoriya!”

Turning his head to look at Kirishima, Izuku’s eyes lit up when he realized it was Kirishima. “Oh! Kirishima, hi! It’s been so long since we’ve last talked!”

“It really has been! I’ve been so busy with balancing school and football I haven’t been going to the parties lately,” sighed Kirishima defeatedly. He knew Izuku wasn't one to be petty but still, he felt bad about not keeping in touch with someone he enjoyed talking to.

“Nonsense! Anyway, Bakugo, you mentioned something about interviewing me?” inquired Izuku, returning to the initial reason he was approached by the hottest guy on campus.

Katsuki took a step closer to Izuku after letting his eyes trail all over Izuku’s body when the pretty boy had been distracted. Clearing his throat, trying to fight the nerves that flooded his body when he caught sight of muscular legs, Katsuki nodded.

“Yes, the football team is doing interviews with the public so we can post stupid shit to remind everyone why UA is the best.”

Perking up at the explanation of what was happening, Izuku eagerly agreed,” Of course. I’m more than happy to support UA and our football team!”

The three traveled to a more open area of the shopping center. The sun was warm on their skin and there was a gentle breeze. As Izuku and Katsuki waited for Kirishima to give them the go ahead to start the interview, Kirishima swore the scene looked like something out of a romcom movie. The school jock and nerd running into each other and having their worlds collide on a beautiful day with a cinematic breeze twirling their hair around.

Izuku was wearing a white tee shirt with the words “running shirt” on it. He paired the simple tee shirt with some black gym shorts that had white accents on the side seam. Both of his knees were strapped up with yellow kinesiology knee tape, paired with royal blue compression socks. The final addition to the horrifically discolored outfit was a pair of expensive red running sneakers.

Katsuki was in some baggy black pants, expensive white sneakers, and wore his UA football letter jacket.

Their outfits dramatically contrasted each other, but it wasn’t an eyesore like Kirishima thought it would be. Despite all of that, Kirishima cut the two’s ogling short. “Start anytime!”

Without missing a beat, Katsuki went off-script and asked a personal question. “What happened to your leg?”

Both Kirishima and Izuku seemed a bit taken aback by the question, but they quickly recovered. Kirishima knew he was going to use this as blackmail on Katsuki for the foreseeable future. Izuku on the other hand didn’t know what to expect from the interview and was happy to talk to the notorious football captain.

“I do a lot of running. A lot of cardio,” revealed Izuku, smiling shyly at Katsuki as he fiddled with the earbuds he had taken out.

Since he was a person with no filter, Katsuki dove straight into sly flirting. “Were you on your knees by any chance?”

“I actually was,” answered Izuku quickly, a bit surprised Katsuki asked the question. Still, he wasn’t too surprised Katsuki knew what to ask considering he was an athlete too.

Katsuki didn’t falter despite Izuku clearly not understanding what he meant with that question. “Oh. I picked the right guy for the interview,” commented Katsuki charmingly, his eyes looking at Izuku as if he were a meal to devour.

With the single comment, Izuku picked up on what Katsuki was indirectly saying and let his eyes widen and let out a breathless laugh. Katsuki knew he wanted to see that look and hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life. He wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but truly Izuku had him captivated. Izuku felt the exact same way.

He got me, hook, line, and sinker.

“How is your day going?” asked Katsuki calmly, reeling back into interviewing Izuku despite him not asking about UA or things about football.

Izuku pouted, looking at the hustle and bustle of the people around. “Pretty slow”

Seeing an opening to be mischievous again, Katsuki leaned closer. “Do you want me to make it faster?”

Perking up at the suggestive question, Izuku was ready to show he was just as interested. Using all the confidence training his teachers have put him through, Izuku tempted, “How would you do that?”

“How do you want me to do that?” fired back Katsuki with pure enjoyment. There was a little voice in the back of his head, wondering if the man before him was being a little shit to mess with him or if he was truly interested.

While Katsuki was overthinking everything, Izuku tilted his head down, looking up at Katsuki through his eyelashes with a shy smile. It was a very pointed look, and Katsuki felt his heart swoon. Katsuki was ready to bite those chubby cheeks peppered with the most beautiful freckles. Still, he was a college student and imagined pinning Izuku against his locker in the vacant locker room, and making those perfect lips spread to let out a scream of pleasure.

“I’m going to have to cut this video short,” half-joked Katsuki, struggling to keep his mind focused on anything but asking Izuku to date him in less than polite words.

The loud, almost manic laughter erupted from Izuku again as the implications of Katsuki’s words sank in. He was infatuated with Katsuki. There was something so thrilling about being the one that caught the attention of the untouchable football captain. In the back of his mind, he was scared this was all some elaborate prank to humiliate him, but he had to trust that Toshinori wasn’t lying about Katsuki being a good person.

It wasn’t uncommon to hear all his friends talking about Katsuki. It was close to impossible not to hear the name when football was such a major sport. Katsuki was the captain and the team's best player. Besides, Izuku often visits the games.

The only problem was he never got a good look at the blonde when their classes had no overlap and Katsuki was nothing more than a small blob down on the field.

Katsuki recalled Kirishima and Izuku’s short exchange. Kirishima mentioned something about not going to as many parties due to his busy schedule. If Kirishima equated not going to parties to a complete loss of communication, he wondered just how often Izuku attended them. “Do you ever go out to parties?”

“Maybe sometimes,” admitted Izuku slowly, raising a brow to gauge just what Katsuki’s aim was. While Izuku enjoyed some dirty talk, he had no intention of being a sex toy. He had standards and he hoped that Katsuki wasn’t just a closeted player.

“Do you ever see frat boys?” questioned Katsuki quickly, feeling anxiety bubble in his gut. He didn’t want Izuku to have his eyes on loser extras. Katsuki knew that some of the frat boys were persistent and relentless when it came to sexual endeavors. Jealousy was an ugly feeling, and Katsuki didn’t like being in a competition where he could easily lose.

Izuku stilled, a bit offended Katsuki was asking about his potential romantic interests in frat boys. How could Katsuki think he had no standards? Sure, Izuku was popular and flirty when it counted, but he didn’t think he gave off the impression he’d settle for a frat boy.

Truth be told, Izuku had a fear of drinking and drugs. He was a control freak after all.

In the end he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice some of the frat boys at the parties he attended. No matter how many people tried to hide the parties from the frat boys, they managed to find and get into the private parties. “I do see some frat boys. I don’t go for frat boys though.”

Katsuki immediately relaxed and soon realized he had been making a lot of assumptions. Sure, he was gay, but he couldn’t just assume anyone he was interested in was. Yet, he saw Izuku standing across the field on one fateful day and decided the nerd was his. Still, he didn’t have to worry about some horny men getting their hands on Izuku.

With his skin practically itching from anticipation, Katsuki knew he needed to get a better confirmation of Izuku’s sexuality. Their not-so-subtle flirting wasn’t enough. “So, what kind of guys do you go for?”

“Literally any other kind of guy,” chuckled Izuku, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit. It was clear that Katsuki was interested in him no matter what the intentions behind that interest were. Who could blame him for being flattered that Katsuki was giving him attention in a world filled with gorgeous individuals who matched Katsuki’s interests better.

Even if he was a perfect mix of calculated and impulsive, Katsuki was quick to gather the courage and make it clear where he stood. “Like football players?”

The message was direct and Izuku’s face bloomed the most stunning shade of pink Katsuki had ever seen. The shade complimented his hair and made his freckles more apparent. Still, Izuku raised a hand to tuck a stray curl behind his ear. Ignoring the adrenaline pumping in his veins, he smiled confidently. “I’ve never gone for a football player before but…”

All composure was lost, and Katsuki’s buffer vanished. “Do you like dick?”

That was all it took for Izuku to burst out into laughter. Even if Katsuki only wanted him for his body, which meant a hard rejection to an only physical relationship, Izuku had no intention of living a life without Katsuki in it. The vulgarity in Katsuki’s speech and the lack of regret in everything he said was something Izuku quickly admired. “Uh yeah.”

Katsuki couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face, unable to believe that with the dumpster fire their conversation was, Izuku was still laughing and engaged. If his last question wasn’t enough to drive Izuku away, he might as well try to ask, “Can I get your number?”

Not even a second passed when Izuku threw his head back in laughter once more, fully captivated by Katsuki. He enjoyed the directness after all the suggestive language. Waving a hand, Izuku took a deep breath before shrugging and nodding his head. “Yeah, I guess you can get my number.”

Suddenly Katsuki felt like an elementary schooler. He remembered watching all his friends ask girls out and being surprised when they accepted. Now he understood how they felt at that moment. It was a pure, unadulterated sense of belonging and acceptance.

Despite the train wreck he presented himself to be, Izuku wanted to stick around.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” confirmed Izuku as he laughed, raising his hand, messing with his phone to pull up contacts, and offering it to Katsuki.

Kirishima stood behind the camera, wearing a disgusted expression. Izuku and Katsuki were made for each other. He couldn’t imagine any other person in the world still giving their number to Katsuki after being aggressively asked if they liked dick.

Whatever rose-tinted glasses Izuku was wearing, Kirishima wanted a pair too.

Katsuki calmly put in his digits and his name. He knew Izuku knew his name, but still, he liked the feeling of making himself known to Izuku. As soon as Katsuki went to hand Izuku his phone, a calendar notification pinged.

“Sorry, I really must go! I’ll text you, Katsuki. And Kirishima, it was a pleasure seeing you again.”

Kirishima and Katsuki both waved to Izuku and sadly said their goodbyes. They were impressed that Izuku was able to spare them a minute in the first place with how intense his schedule must be.

Izuku walked away with a pep in his step. Kirishima had been busy sending the video to himself when Katsuki’s voice reached his ears against his will.

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” sighed Katsuki, clearly admiring Izuku’s ass-sets.

Kirishima cringed, staring at Katsuki as if he’d been betrayed. “Bro, I love you… but I’m going to need you to stop talking.”

Katsuki gave Kirishima a swift punch to the arm before snatching his phone back. “Never speak of this to anyone. Let’s grab lunch… fuck interviewing anyone else.”

More than happy to stop where they were, Kirishima started walking to the one restaurant nearby he knew they both enjoyed. Katsuki smiled at his phone when he almost immediately got a text from Izuku.

Katsuki wasn’t planning on letting Izuku go after having a taste.

[aheckinmess]

Morosis [Bakugo] (Fluff)

(One-Shot 3/? in a collection of My Hero Academia Reader one-shots posted regularly once a month - sometimes more.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader, Katsuki Bakugo, Mina Ashido, Kirishima Eijiro, Toru Hagakure, Ochaco Uraraka, Asui Tsuyu, Momo Yaoyorozu, Class 1-A, Mostly Fluff with a Dash of Angst, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Katsuki Bakugo-centric, Katsuki Bakugo Swears a Lot, Pining Katsuki Bakugo, Katsuki Bakugo is a Dork, Reader-Insert, Reader Has a Quirk, Reader Goes to the Mall, With All of Class 1-A, It's Wholesome and Sweet, and Then There's Bakugo

Word Count: 967 words

Summary: While hanging out with Class 1-A at the mall, you and Bakugo end up standing beside each other, and he has a comment about a manga that you start arguing about with him.

Author's Note: I wrote this because someone on Quotev requested I write Bakugo x Reader, but it was inspired by this post on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!

Morosis: (n.) the stupidest of stupidities

When the girls from 1-A invite you to the mall with them, you don’t expect it to turn into such a big affair. Whispered words and presented plans travel around until the entirety of 1-A walks together through the large building.

This arrangement both thrills and bothers you. While it’s true that being with the whole class allows you to send unassuming glances in Bakugo’s direction, it is equally true that Bakugo is, well, an asshole.

But dammit if he isn’t your type.

“(Name), where do you want to go first?” Mina rambles, her head twisting this way and that, eyes glowing as she settles into her element. “Ooo! We should go to Sephora first! They’ve released some new brands that look like they might work with my complexion!” 

“Sure, we can hit up make-up first. I want to check out some video games and the bookstore at some point, though.” You beam.

“Oh, yes! I have a list of books I need to search for.” Momo agrees.

You take note that Ochaco and Tsu linger behind, so you slow your pace so that you’re in the back with them. It’s important to you to keep surveillance on the group as a whole, always keeping a watch out for danger. 

“Were you wanting to look for a specific game, ribbit?” Tsu asks, side-stepping a toddler squealing happily towards a photo booth. 

“I’ve been meaning to look and see if the sequel to Dazzling Designer has come out yet. I’ve got 300 hours logged on the first game, and I wasn’t disappointed when I saw the trailer for the sequel.” 

“My favorite is Amphibious Adventures.”

“That fits.” You laugh, picking up a lip tint tester and swatching the color on the inside of your wrist. You crinkle your nose and then set it aside. 

“I like more casual games, ribbit. They don’t stress me out as much.”

“I can understand that.” You continue searching for a shade to your liking. “Do you like dating simulators, then?”

“Some of them. Others just aren’t made well.” Tsu shrugs.

 You carry on like this for some time, everyone helping each other find what they want or engaging in idle chatter while you ponder where Bakugo might have gone with his posse. He gives me sports store vibes. The image of Bakugo in a plaid shirt and mountain climbing gear suddenly plagues your mind and you smile to yourself.

Well, you thought it was to yourself.

“Ooo, whatcha thinkin’ about?” You jump at the sound of Toru’s voice. “Oops! Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“No, you’re fine.” You chuckle, tucking your hair behind your ear as you move on. “Did you find anything you liked, Toru?” 

“Nah. It’s hard to find much since I’m invisible.” As you start walking towards the door to wait on the others to finish up.

“Oh, yeah, that has to be frustrating.” You empathize.

You’re careful to keep control of your wandering thoughts afterwards, feeling successful since you dodged her question. But when you all start walking again, you can’t stop your eyes from searching for the Bakusquad. You think you catch sight of Kirishima’s red hair, but are promptly redirected when Momo gets giddy and guides the lot of you into the bookstore.

 The beautiful sight of colorful spines and the entrancing smell of leather bound pages calls to you like a siren song. Within seconds, everyone loses themselves to the luxury of lexicon around them, going in their own direction.

You head towards the manga first, hoping to find an affordable copy from your favorite series. You get distracted a few times with other titles that you’ve been interested in, but when you make it to your initial goal, Bakugo stands in front of the shelf.

You tense at first, but clear your throat and stand next to him, scouring the shelves for what you want. Even though he doesn’t say a word, you feel the heat of his presence beside you. Damn, if he wasn’t such an asshole, I’d ask him out. Since he’s minding his own business, you mind yours. However, when you reach for the book you want, Bakugo breaks the silence.

“Hmph. You read Music House?” He asks. Do his eyes soften?

“U-Uh, yeah.” You reply, shocked that he’s talking to you. Maybe he’s not as bad as he seems.

“Good manga, but I bet your favorite character is Hikaru, isn’t it?”

I take it all back. You frown at his comment.

“What’s wrong with Hikaru?”

 “Tch. Knew it.” Bakugo smirks, looking over the selection and grabbing a volume that’s several copies ahead of you in the series. “The only chicks that like Hikaru are the ones that don’t know a man when they see one.”

“Oh, yeah? Well who’s your favorite character, huh? I bet it’s Vesper!” 

“Duh, she’s a badass and not a weak extra like Hikaru!”

“But Vesper likes Hikaru…and Hikaru isn’t weak!” You growl out, stepping closer to him with a pointed finger on his chest. “In fact, he reminds me of you!”

“Me? That weak bastard reminds you of me? Are you calling me weak?!” He hisses, getting in your face.

“I told you, Hikaru’s not weak!” You ground out before shoving him one good time. “You’re not weak, Bakugo, you’re just oblivious. You wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid!”

  You don’t know why you said it, but when his hand grips your jaw and rough lips assault yours, you’re not complaining. Your eyes flutter and when you sway a bit when he pulls away, dazed as you look at him.

“Now who looks stupid?” He says with a cheeky grin and flushed cheeks.

And he leaves you dumbfounded in the aisle.

[foudedrosesvers2]

Tokyo ghoul masterlist!

! mostly smut so mdni !

♡︎ = SFW

♥︎ = NSFW

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒

‧₊˚ 𝒦ℯ𝓃 𝒦𝒶𝓃ℯ𝓀𝒾

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒯ℴ𝓊𝓀𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓂𝒶

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒩𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓀𝒾 𝒩𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾ℴ

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒮𝒽𝓊𝓊 𝒯𝓈𝓊𝓀𝒾𝓎𝒶𝓂𝒶

NSFW headcanons ♥︎

‧₊˚ ℛℯ𝓃𝒿𝒾 𝒴ℴ𝓂ℴ

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ ℰ𝓉ℴ 𝒴ℴ𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒶

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒩𝒶𝓀𝒾

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒦𝒶𝓃𝒶ℯ 𝒱ℴ𝓃 ℛℴ𝓈ℯ𝓌𝒶𝓁𝒹

nothing yet...

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧

𝐂𝐂𝐆

‧₊˚ 𝒦ℴ𝓊𝓉𝒶𝓇ℴ𝓊 𝒜𝓂ℴ𝓃

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒜𝓀𝒾𝓇𝒶 ℳ𝒶𝒹ℴ

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒥𝓊𝓊𝓏ℴ𝓊 𝒮𝓊𝓏𝓊𝓎𝒶

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒦ℴℴ𝓇𝒾 𝒰𝒾

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒦𝒾𝓈𝒽ℴ𝓊 𝒜𝓇𝒾𝓂𝒶

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ ℋ𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓊 ℐ𝒽ℯ𝒾

nothing yet...

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬

‧₊˚ 𝒰𝓉𝒶

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ ℐ𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒾

nothing yet...

‧₊˚ 𝒩𝒾𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒶 ℱ𝓊𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒶

NSFW Headcanons♥︎

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚・・・・ ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓏊 ໒꒱ ‧

[thegoodshit-ficrecs]

Stars in Your Eyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504813

Title: Stars in Your Eyes Author:  Fanficismything @fanficwrites (not confirmed) Rating: General Audiences Fandom: My Hero Academia Locked/Unlocked

Completed- 1 Chapter Published- January 22, 2019

Additional Tags:

Songfic

pure fluff

Love Confessions

Emotional Gay Boys

Handsome man

Summary:    

He worked hard for this, setting everything up with the help of his friends, practicing for weeks, but now was the night. Nothing could stop him now, Kirishima was already on his way down and he had to do it, he couldn't back down.

Tonight was the night Bakugo was going to confess to Kirishima and hopefully his song would get the message across to his handsome man....

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚ what are we?

...nothing. right?.₊˚⊹

convienence. a means to end. that's all this was for both of you right? when katsuki is fed up with the crazed fangirls who just won't leave him alone, he works out a deal with you. it was just coincidence he had a huge crush on you.

☆pair. 2ndyear!katsuki x reader. tags. fake dating!trope, fluff, reader is academically flopping for a bit, pet names, cursing, fighting (verbal), happy ending wc. 6k

ღnote. sorry that this took so long lol! i wrote this in chapter form if you'd like to read it here, but this one shot is the same thing.

post-war brought troubles for a lot of the students in class 1-A. especially bakugo katsuki.

he had to completely relearn how to write with his other hand, had to learn how to fight without injury to it.

and he had to learn to deal with his crazy amount of fangirls.

his fight had been broadcasted, the manner in which he pushed himself to the very brink broadcasted to the world. his victory brought spoils, though not in a way he expected.

he didn't expect to be chased down the hallways every morning, to have a line of girls wanting his autograph as he ate. he didn't expect to be gifted things, things they just assumed he liked, but couldn't be farther from the truth.

luckily, you seemed to like chocolate. he found refuge these days sitting on the roof floor of U-A next to you during lunch, passing you the chocolate gifts he'd been given.

he hated chocolate. but to be honest, he loved seeing you smile.

"thanks 'suki." you said for the nth time, picking the best chocolates out of the box and leaving the gross ones alone.

"yeah." he sighed, glancing at you occasionally as he moved to support the weight of his head with his hands. he found himself speechless around you often. words failing as he leant into the comfort of your presence.

you were about to say something, he thinks. your mouth was open though the blaring of the bell cut you off. "oh, let's go 'suki." you said, holding your hand out to him.

he took it, letting you pull him up and holding onto your hand for just a second too long. you dumped the rest of the chocolates in a trash can and made your collective way down to 1-A. you laughed at how he seemed to try and hide behind you, eyes darting around for the general course girls who seemed to have nothing better to do than follow him around.

they didn't come though. he saw a group of them but when they saw your proximity to him..

they left him alone.

a lightbulb went off in his head, he mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. as he sat in class, eyeing your seat between momo and jirou, he thought about how he'd ask you.

test papers were being passed out, graded ones. "yo man," kirishima started, looking over his paper, "what'd you get?"

katsuki scoffed. "what do you think? another 100, easy as shit."

kaminari groaned beside him, "you're cheating or something! i got an 80."

"that's high for someone like you!"

"hey!"

"aw man, i got a 70. you're so manly bakubro!"

"yeah, guess i am."

katsuki tried to resist the turning of his head, he really did. but he wanted to know what score you got, if you did well. though from the expression on your face and the way momo patted you on the back,

not to mention the red ink used all over your paper. he knew you didn't.

"man this totally sucks!" you exclaimed, your hands clutching the paper of your test. "i studied and everything, i don't even need math, im a hero for crying out loud!"

jirou's teases and momo's comforts faded into the background as he only focused on you, and the nagging feeling for him to help you.

with another ring of the bell and a sigh from mr. aizawa, katsuki left early to try and beat the crowd of girls who seemed to pounce on him.

he didn't though, he found himself at the entrance at U-A, almost to freedom when the crowd pointed at him, "that's him! i can't believe it!"

"dynamite, an autograph please?"

"hey- don't be so casual. it's lord explosion--"

"who cares? i want a photo!"

at that, they chased him. all his progress down the stairs and through the halls was gone as he was led right back down to class 1-A. he stupidly lead himself right back into a corner.

his head darted around, until he noticed a tuft of familiar hair in the classroom. you hadn't left? oh well, he needed your help and quick.

you were sobbing internally, looking over your horrific test score with a sad expression. a 70? you might as well just drop out now.

as the hours of studying you'd done for waste passed over in your mind, a noise caught you off guard.

he had burst in, making your deflated form jump off the desk. "katsuki, don't scare me like that!"

he rushed over to your side, grabbing your hand off where it was hanging limply on the desk. "be my girlfriend for a second."

the words barely even processed in your brain before you were being manhandled off the desk, your mind rushed to catch up. "wait-- wha-"

before you knew it you were led towards the door of obsessed fan girls. his hand was intertwined tightly with yours, a slight flush on his face.

"listen up." he started, making his fans shush eachother. "my girlfriend hasn't been appreciating all your bullshit. and neither have i, so for the love of god stop it already."

he pulled you alongside him, "move." a path opened for the two of you, letting you two through. he walked you to the entrance, no words spoken between the two of you until you stopped infront of the lockers where you'd keep your shoes.

"[name]-- uh." he took a breath, his heart sped up rapidly around you. it sped up at the simple tilt of your head.

"so. if you help me with this shit, i'll tutor you.

or whatever."

a hand was behind his head, his averted eyes now focusing on you as he awaited your answer with baited breath.

you had an expression of thoughtfulness on your face. your finger on your chin as you looked up to the ceiling to think.

'have everyone think youre dating a cute boy and get a tutor?'

the pinkie of your hand shot out, a closed eye smile on your face. "i'm in!"

a soft smile graced his lips, his pinkie intertwining with yours and sealing his fate in more ways than one.

because you really did have him wrapped around your finger. literally and figuratively.

"let's go to my room so we can talk over it!"

you really were going to be the death of him.

it's not like he'd never been to your room, just not in a situation like this.

not when he'd declared himself your boyfriend an hour earlier, not when his hands were sweaty with his nervousness, and not when you'd agreed so hastily to be his.

he wondered if you'd accept if anyone else asked you. if izuku or todoroki had been facing this situation instead of him.

"'suki?" you patted the side of your bed next to you, "sit with me."

he sighed, the thoughts disappearing from his mind at your words. he really was whipped for you.

"yeah, yeah. i'm goin'" he sat beside you, oddly stiffer than normal. he held his own hands as he waited for you to say something.

"okay, so, we should have like-- a plan or something right?"

"a plan? what the fuck for?"

"like so we don't get caught faking this or whatever. if they find out your fans will just come back running, no?"

he shuddered at the thought. "yeah, don't wanna deal with that shit."

"right? so the first part of our plan, is that everyone has to think we're dating. cool?"

katsuki's mind was racing. cool? more like the best thing that would happen to him. he felt as if everyone knew of his crush on you.. except for you.

being to say he was all yours and that you were all his, even if it was a lie..

"yeah, it's cool."

"great, that's really the only thing we had to establish. we hang out a lot anyways so, we'll just have to be affectionate or something to seal the deal."

his heart jumped at the idea of hugging you, wrapping an arm around you, holding hands with you in public. the ghost of a smile came over him.

"right."

"cool. so nothing else matter--"

"we're starting your studying shit tomorrow. the next test is next week, so we don't have time to play around [name]."

"ughh. i wish you forgot about that." your head fell into your hands. "i hate math, what do i even need it for?"

"advanced math, nothing really. but estimates are important in hero work. estimating time, the abilities of your body, the amount of civilians, all that stuff."

"you're such a nerd."

"hah?"

he continued explaining the importance of math to you despite your grievances. his finger was pointed in the air, you swore you could see the need emoji popping over his face.

your eyes closed, the weight of the day, your grade, and the thought of studying alongside a nerd like katsuki tiring you to no avail. you yawned, laying your head on his shoulder.

you could hear the thumping of his heart, the racing of his blood in his veins. it rocked you to sleep, "wake me up later, m' a take a nap." you mumbled against his shoulder, before falling asleep.

his mouth shut, eyes peeled on your body that now clung to his side. his face grew hot, when did it get so hot in your damn room?

he tried his best to stay awake, to let you nap and wake you up in the morning. but as the clock hit eight o clock, the time he was supposed to head back to his dorm.. he found himself stuck in place.

not by an invisible force, not by some obligation. it was only the thought of wanting to be with you, next to you. wanting to let the comfort of your weight next to him drive himself to sleep.

so he did. he fell asleep, letting his head lay on top of yours, holding your body closer to his. shutting his eyes.

the light of the sun woke him up first, you didn't close your blinds yesterday, and the sun shined brightly,

directly into his face. he groaned, his voice deep from sleep as he peeled himself off of you. he was confused from fatigue, wondering why he was still in your room.

he felt an arm around his waist, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to see it was you who was holding him close. he thinks you were using him in place of your huge teddy bear, the one laid neatly in the corner of your bed.

his heart rate quickened once again, wanting to go back to his room, but fighting the urge to stay looking at you.

an absentminded hand moved a couple strands of your hair out your face, pinching your cheek when he got bold.

you don't wake up, he sighed a breath of relief. 'til he felt your body start to stir, you pushed your head more into his chest, your eyes finally starting to open slightly.

"oh? g'morning kat'." you were sleepy, your words slightly slurred and muffled from how you were pressed against him.

"you slept here?" you asked, pulling away from him as you moved to stretch your upper body.

"uh-- yeah." he was once again lost for words at the sight of you, your shirt slightly pulled up from how you'd slept, your hair messy from the lack of a protective style before sleep.

"sorry for waking you up then, 'suki."

"no, i was already up. i just didn't wanna wake you."

"well, you failed." you joked. "anyways, you should get out of here soon, if iida sees you he'll probably flip out and tell mr. aizawa."

"right."

"let's walk to class together!" you clasped his hands in yours. "okay?"

you were going to be the death of him once again. "okay."

you let go and he got up, ruffling his hair slightly and looking back at you who sent him a small smirk and wave. before slowly walking out your door. he did his best to keep his movements quiet and minimal.

he was at the elevator, before uraraka walked out. shit. "bakugo? what are you doing here?"

"uh.. got lost."

her face scrunched in confusion, a knowing smile on her face after a second. "right.. tell [name] good morning for me."

".. tell her yourself." he got into the elevator, already seeing the grin in uraraka's face as he went up a floor to his room.

the same grin everyone greeted him with as he went to sit next to you in the common room, having made you some breakfast. he and you were all ready, you had refreshed your hair from when he was playing with it, simple makeup and your uniform ironed. he admired you while he ate his meal.

"ah, thanks 'suki."

"mhm."

you moved to whisper in his ear, "why's everyone looking at us?"

"fuck if i know."

"so you two lovebirds aren't gonna say anything?" denki said, putting his hands on his hips as he looked you two over.

"'bout what?"

"that you two are totally dating!" mina exclaimed, pointing at you. "and you didn't say anything? wow [name], i thought.. we were closer than that." she mock fully cried.

katsuki was about to say something, you cut him off though. "i thought everyone knew?" with a tilt of your head, a question mark almost visible from the blank expression you wore.

the class only sighed, kirishima shrugged his shoulders. "yeah, we should've guessed. i mean bakugo had a obvious crush on you for the longest."

"yeah, good looks man." sero gave him a thumbs up.

"tch. let's go [name]." he sat up, placing his and your finished dishes in the sink before you followed behind him.

"right! bye guys!"

you grabbed his hand as you walked out the door. nobody was around, there was no need to keep up appearances now.

but that didn't stop him from holding your hand tighter.

and that didn't stop you from clinging even more to his side.

it seemed you two were now together all the time. a clingy couple is what you seemed like to your friends, and more importantly his fans.

at lunch he could now be in the cafeteria again, you were stuck his side as you ate, an arm around you as you shared his food, insisting his cooking was better than the U-A food.

you were caged in by his body, you really did just look like a sappy couple to everyone.

during class, he was caught glancing at you. a lot. he'd roll his eyes and pretend nothing even happened, but everyone knew he was far gone.

during training, as you sparred you noticed he was going harder on you than before. some would think that because you were his crush he wouldn't get so aggressive,

too bad katsuki only wanted to push you harder, get you to show the strength he saw you unleash on those villains in the war. he wanted you to be stronger beside him, if he was number one, he'd want you to be ranked closely to him, because he knew you were strong enough.

that didn't mean it wasn't any more hard to fight him, the man was a maniac.

"you can chill out you know!"

"what? can't take it?!"

"no, slow your fucking roll!" you barely dodged his other attack, just barely moving out the way as he threw an explosion in your direction.

you now had met the conditions to use your quirk, comeback. by generating a max of 8 orbs, they'd absorb energy that you could use back for your offense. the only downside?

melee attacks couldn't be absorbed at all.

a kick to your legs sent you to the ground, you dispersed one of your orbs with the explosion stored inside of it.

"be nice and let me win!!"

"no."

he dodged your attack and pinned you to the ground. he won.

"you're so mean 'suki." you shoved him off you, making him grunt. "a good boyfriend would've let me win!"

a nagging voice in the back of his head was telling him he wasn't yours, you weren't his, and that he was only doing this for his convinience.

"well, i guess i'll be a better one next time."

even that voice couldn't deny that the way he cared for you wasn't anything less than real. that even if this relationship was fake, that he was undoubtedly yours. that the way he held his hand out to you, lifting you as gently as he could fathom.

"wanna go again?" he asked, a boyish smirk on his face.

"you know it!"

your plan of tiring katsuki out with exercise didn't work, so you found yourself in his room at his desk. showered and wiping the dew off your neck with a towel, you sat in front of him with a book splayed open.

he was hammering topic after topic into you.. statistics or something? you weren't really paying attention, you were more interested in the bulge of his muscles out of his tank top.

his words were a blur when you suddenly found yourself reaching a hand out to feel his muscle,

your hand squeezing it.

'firm. hm.' you thought, until he pulled you away, an incredulous look on his face. "this is why your class ranking keeps falling [name]. focus!"

"how can i focus with you in front of me? it's like dancing a donut in front of a cop!" you whined, face planted onto his desk.

"you're.. insane."

"you love me though, don't you?" the words slipped out of your lips without a second thought, your face flushing slightly. "oops, sorry! almost forgot you arent my like-- real boyfriend!"

he swore he heard a bit of disappointment in your voice, felt a bit of reluctance in your movements as you pulled away at him, saw a bit of longing in your eyes.

"uh.. yeah. 's fine. let's just.. take a break." he said, motioning over to lay on his bed and do nothing for a little while.

if you would've told him a couple months ago that he'd be sat, face to face, body next to body, hands awkwardly close to each other as you remained in silence. you'd had a movie on in the background, something stupid he thought. not like he payed attention to it at all.

it was comfortable, being around you. he'd be a liar if he said that he didn't like the fact that everyone now thought you were his and vice versa. not just his fans, not just yours, but your mutual friends. family.

"do you wanna try again?" he asked after a while, voice soft and his hand moving to rub his eyes. it was his bedtime, eight o clock sharp, but he'd break it for you.

"hm? to be honest no." you moved to face him. "you look tired anyways 'suki, you should sleep."

he grumbled, his eyes closing slightly as he slowly swatted your hand away from his face, his grip lingering on your wrist.

"right." he yawned. he didn't know if it was the sleep or impulse, maybe a mixture of both. but he pulled you closer to him. making you crash against his chest with his head in the nook of your neck.

"stay." he uttered, his breath flush against your neck making the hairs stand up.

"katsuki?" you thought you were dreaming. you'd move to pinch yourself if you weren't being pinned down by him.

"please?"

"..okay." your words barely matched your actions. you cuddled more into him, pulling him impossibly closer as you melted into eachother.

a blanket was thrown over the two of you. you fell asleep in his arms, the beating of his heart matching yours as you breathed a sigh of realization.

you were horribly in love with katsuki bakugo. and he was with you.

your 'fake' activities as a couple were coming along a little bit too easily to the two of you.

feeding him a snack in his room as a joke, him finding out he kind of liked being babied, him blackmailing you so you shut up.

all couple things. normal couple activity.

you didn't even have to continue those things behind closed doors, but it just came so naturally. it seemed wrong not to do it.

it seemed wrong for him not to sling a hand over you, not to hold your hand when it was so close to him, not to move the stray strands of hair and tuck it behind your ear.

it seemed wrong for him not to save a spot for you at lunch, not to wake up a bit earlier and slip out of your sleepy grasp to prepare you a meal alongside his.

not to make some breakfast for you, light or heavy, depending on what he'd learned you preferred.

not to walk with you to class, even walking with you to go see your general studies friend in the morning, leaning against the doorway with a smile on his face as he watched you rave on about a show you'd watched recently.

why wouldn't he do it if he could? why shouldn't he watch your favorite shows just to have things to talk to you about?

he found himself fighting to stay focused during your study sessions now too. he found himself noticing things about you, the smaller things.

how you'd flip your hello kitty pencil around while you were speaking. how you'd bite your lips in concentration, your expressions of disbelief when you actually started getting things correct.

he'd have to cover his hand with his face. you were just too cute.

sometimes he'd even get distracted mid sentence. he was explaining simple things over again, just to make sure you knew what it meant.

but it was hard even keeping eye contact with you.

"so, in this problem x would be.. uh.." he went silent, his mouth open but no words escaping.

"x would be what? 7?" you showed your page of work to him, with a nervous smile. "if it's not right tell me already! i know im kinda dumb, it won't hurt my feelings too bad i swear!"

he looked down back at his page. mentally slamming his head onto the table, before recovering. "yeah, no you're right. you got it."

you slammed the work onto his desk, "finally! then we can break now right?"

"yeah, 'guess so."

"let's do something fun. take a walk, my legs hurt from sitting." you pulled him up by his hand, dragging him to his door. "hurry up!"

he couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him, you really reminded him of just how young you two were. how he was just a high schooler with a huge crush, how--

"why are you looking at me like that? are you sick?" you placed a hand on his forehead, making him promptly rip it off. a scowl quickly replaced the smile that been on his face moments prior. "no i'm not. let's go."

you walked hand in hand, the sunset the background for your 'date'.

the last few days, he'd been nervous to bring up what was happening between you. he was nervous to ruin the odd relationship you two had, he didn't want to lose you. he thought the things you two had been doing crossed the line between friendship and lovers.

you didn't have to do any of this. though he was sure you knew that already.

"math exam's tomorrow."

"don't remind me! you totally ruined the moment you know."

"you'll pass. i mean, i was your tutor after all. if you fail with me as a teacher? you are a lost cause."

"that's not nice to say." you ripped his hand away from yours, crossing your arms on your chest. "thats really messed up 'suki."

he leant down to face you, the sun goldening you two in its wake as he grew a cocky smirk on his lips. "oh really?"

"yes really."

"n' what're you gonna do about it?" his face was barely an inch away from yours. with a glance to his lips, he moved closer.

he barely pecked you, before he heard a loud, obnoxious idiot speak from behind him.

"[name] and bakugo are totally making out over here!"

denki and kirishima were looking at the two of you, a glare crossed over katsuki's face as he basically dragged you with him back into his dorm. he was about to leave you at your dorm, the hallway empty since curfew was around the corner.

he held your hands in his, running his thumb over the knuckle of yours. he intertwined your fingers, only letting go after a while.

he tilted your head upwards with his two fingers, wordlessly asking for permission. moonlight now struck you two as he moved in.

uninterruptedly, he kissed you. deepening it with a pull of the hand, holding you against him.

he let go after a while, his internal clock signaling it was almost time for curfew.

before he left, he whispered to you. "i don't.. really care what we're labeled. and if this shit is real or not.

i just want to be close to you."

he turned, walking to the elevator. leaving your breathless, with your heart in your throat.

no more words were spoken between you two, not as you screamed into your pillow, and not as he stared up into the ceiling of his room.

you passed that math test. and each assignment that went with it.

the end of the year was now coming quickly, of the school year that is. you and katsuki still kept up your 'act', the activities now stretching to dates after school mixed in with your study sessions.

one's that'd leave the touch of katsuki on you more than the touch of knowledge. but it was working nonetheless.

it was all good between you two, an eternal honeymoon it seemed. after all, by now it had been at least seven months since this began. your class ranking was higher, he no longer had to worry about strolling through the halls, it seemed nothing could get in your way.

well, besides two things.

one: the fact that you two were scared to label in between yourselves yet, too bashful to call him your boyfriend and you his girlfriend in private, yet proud fully admitting it to others.

two, the girl currently straddling him with no regard to you whatsoever. your entire cafeteria table was staring at her, looking at what katsuki would do to move her off.

but when he didn't immediately, didn't immediately curse the girl out and push her off him? you did the job for him.

you yanked the girl by her hair, sending her to the floor with a tray of food falling onto her body. all attention was on you as you stared at katsuki, your mouth agape in anger.

"what the fuck bakugo?" you ignored her, even stepping on her leg slightly as your hands were agitated, your whole body was. you didn't even know why you were jealous. this wasn't real, it never was, he was just playing his role too well.

you should've known katsuki would go too far. he always did.

"babe-- it's not what you think-"

"then what was i looking at? and don't call me that. don't- don't fucking call me anything. we're over."

you knew to him that probably meant something different. you acclaimed the despair in his eyes to the loss of protection, to the loss of ease as he walked in the halls and the lack of paparazzi that'd ask him questions on his love life.

but to him it was so much more.

it was those things, yes. but it was more so the thought of losing you. the thought of the affection over the months being nothing but a memory and not his future. the thought of not having you close to him.

the thoughts of becoming nothing to you, less than a friend.

he didn't know why he didn't move, it was like he physically couldn't. the look in the girl's eyes, the grip she had on him, the weird smile. he recognized her as one of the girls who usually would be in the crowd following him around.

"you don't mean that." his voice sounded more desperate than it had in the whole time he'd met you, more longing slipping through than he intentioned.

but the sun's casting light had moved away from you, casting you in a shadow. "i do mean it. fuck you."

he was going to run after you, to chase you as you slammed your lunch tray into the trash. heading up to the rooftop to he alone.

but a hand, mina's, pulled him back. "i think.. you did enough bakugo."

she went after you instead, promising to bakugo she'd check on you.

fangirls were one thing? but a messy public breakup where you were never really something in the first place? surprisingly worse.

he'd been more snappy lately, his aura making the girls around him keep their distance.

he'd become quieter, closed off. you didn't come to eat lunch with him anymore, obviously. and he didn't go up to the rooftop to join you.

he didn't know how to speak to you, how to explain what happened, how to say that he was sorry.

he ran the scenario in his head a million times, thinking over the girl's quirk that had forced him into place. but it sounded so convenient, like he was lying.

but since your entire relationship was based off of one, he didn't know how to approach the topic in the first place.

a week. a week passed before he could muster up the words to speak to you.

a week of being ignored in the hallways, side glances and being walked off on. a week of not having you by his side, not having you to talk to, to study with,

to kiss.

you were alone on the rooftop, eating silently as you felt a presence behind you. you saw his hair in the shadow and sighed, placing your plate onto the floor next to you. "what?"

"let me talk."

"...fine."

he breathed a sigh, hands balling as he forced the words out. "i know what you saw. and i know it was bad, but listen. that.. girl. she had some quirk on me or something."

he paused, seeing as your movement shifted. he took the fact that you didn't leave as a sign to continue.

"i couldn't move, i would've. you know that. but, it was right for you to be fucking pissed. i'd be too.

and i know, this is my fault in a way. i've been.. a fuckin' loser about this." his hand went up to support his head, his eyes averting from where he felt yours eyeing him.

"i needed to ask you out, officially i mean, a long time ago. it was wrong of me to use you-"

"it wasn't like that and you know it." you moved now to face him, you taking his hands in yours once more.

"what are we? to you i mean."

"right now..

we're nothing, right?"

your eyes widened, his eyes came back to look at yours.

"what?"

the words settled between you, it sent a cold shiver down your spine at the implication.

"wait-- fuck i'm messing this shit up. i mean, we're, not anything right now. we weren't anything."

your heart sank, eyes falling to the floor though your hand still held by him. your bleeding heart was in his grasp too, it was apparent.

"but,

i'd like to be? if you'd have me."

he squeezed your hand tightly. "i, i think i did this all out of order. but, would you go out with me?"

you let out an anxious laugh mixed with emotion. relief? despair? you honestly didn't know. tears burned the corners of your eyes.

"you're-- you're real weird, you know that?"

"is that a no."

"no, it's a yes. i think."

"ya think?"

"you don't get to question me!"

"yeah, whatever." you shared a laugh of relief together. he held you, moving away to bring something out of his pocket.

a small bento box for you.

you gasped at the sight of it, it was so cute. "thank god! i hate this school shit." you sat down, patting the side beside you, prompting him to sit down.

"wow, a heart? don't tell me you like me or something katsuki."

instead of deflecting, of telling you to buzz off, of shoving you lightly, a small smile came over his lips once again. after a beat, he laughed boyishly.

"you caught me."

...

he patted your back as you choked on the heart shaped seaweed.

your first date was cute, a small picnic with the country of musatafu as your backdrop. it was weird, this scene had played out between you two various times. in his room, in public, in private, to everyone else you two had just recovered from a messy breakup. and yet,

your stomachs were filled with butterflies at the affection between you two.

your rank was high, the dates were endless between the two of you now. study dates, just going to cafes, mundane things became more when you were by each others side.

years passed, and your poor dorm was going mostly unused. you'd sleep in his bed most of the time, actually- you'd spent most of your time in his room. he even cleared out a section for you in his closet despite the fact that yours was perfectly fine.

graduation came along, your careers came rushing at the two of you.

you were the top rated woman hero, and he was number one. just like he dreamt, just like he imagined the future would be for the two of you all those years ago.

you were picking out some drinks from the vending machine, a pocky hanging out your mouth as you decided between two flavors.

you finally chose, having two drinks in your hand for you and katsuki when he suddenly dragged you into an alleyway, grunting when he pushed you against the wall.

deja vu? maybe, you felt like you lived through this before, the same mindless stampede of girls rushing past.

"i told you to clip down your hair."

"shut up. don't they even care that we're married now? why do they fucking bother?." he sighed, annoyed as he lightly grabbed the can out your hand, his frustration not matching his actions.

"well, maybe we need something that'd make it even more official." a lightbulb went over the both of your heads. you faced each other, a streetlight letting you see the slight pink tint of his cheeks.

"a ca-"

"a baby."

you laughed, keeling over at the sight of his face that grew impossibly red.

you went home, hand in hand, the photos of the two of you together making rounds in the media again.

but as you laid with his head laid on your lap, your head rested comfortably against the furniture you'd chosen for your home?

you couldn't help but feel like everything worked out perfectly.

and with the new addition of your family laid sleeping on top of katsuki's chest.

tags (can't tag orange :c): @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @amayaaaxx @i-the-fluffo @irenne-stans @hisonlyobsession @dead-fish-soup @pretty-sparkle-bomb @matchat3a @yura-4life @djlance-rock @zuzukusna @hiimsaraandyou @uy242c

[sakuraszn]

﹒♡ CONFESSION ft. katsuki bakugo

cw: lots of fluff, flustered bakugo. he’s such a cutie

The ramen shop was packed, the air filled with laughter, chatter, and the rich aroma of broth and grilled meat. The entire Class 1-A had squeezed into the cozy little restaurant to celebrate Todoroki’s recent jump in the hero rankings.

Bowls clinked, chopsticks clashed, and the energy was electric as the group indulged in warm food and lively conversation.

And at the center of it all—Katsuki Bakugo sat stiffly, arms crossed, scowling into his half-finished bowl of ramen like it had personally offended him.

Not because he wasn’t happy for Todoroki.

Not because the food was bad.

But because of you.

You, sitting just a few seats down, laughing at something uraraka had said, your eyes crinkling, shoulders shaking.

And it was driving him insane.

For weeks—no, months—Bakugo had been dealing with this… feeling. This stupid, irritating, suffocating feeling every time you were near him. It was different from the rivalry-fueled adrenaline he felt in battle, different from the pride he carried when he improved as a hero.

It was something he didn’t understand, something he couldn’t control.

And he hated that.

But tonight… tonight was the night he was going to do something about it.

Or at least, that’s what Kirishima and Sero had forced into his thick skull before they even walked into the restaurant.

“Dude, you’ve been acting weird around them for weeks.”

“Just tell them! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know, idiots, maybe they laugh in my face and never talk to me again?!”

“Oh please, she would never—”

“Shut up. I’ll do it when I damn well feel like it.”

But now that he was here, surrounded by people, nerves bubbling in his gut like an active volcano, feeling like it was a lot harder than he expected.

“Bakugo,” Kirishima’s voice cut through his thoughts, low enough that only he could hear. “You good, bro?”

“I’m fine,” Bakugo growled, barely glancing up as he stabbed at his noodles with his chopsticks.

Kirishima raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? ‘Cause you haven’t insulted Kaminari in like ten minutes. I’m starting to get worried.”

Sero snickered. “Pretty sure that’s a new record.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Kirishima and Sero exchanged glances before the redhead leaned in again. “Are you actually gonna do it?”

Bakugo exhaled sharply, gripping his chopsticks so tight they nearly snapped.

“After this.” His voice was firm. Final.

Kirishima grinned, nudging Sero. “Told ya he’d do it.”

“Hey, I had faith,” Sero said, shrugging. “Just not a lot of faith.”

Bakugo shot them both a murderous glare, but before he could verbally rip them apart, Iida clapped his hands together, signaling for attention.

“If I may have everyone’s focus for a moment!” Iida said, standing up. “I’d like to propose a final toast to Todoroki!”

Todoroki, who had been quietly enjoying his meal, blinked as everyone raised their glasses. “Oh,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Thank you.”

“To Todoroki climbing the ranks!” Iida declared.

“To Todoroki!” the class cheered, clinking their glasses together.

You turned, smiling at the dual-haired hero. “You really deserve it, Todoroki. We all knew you’d make it far.”

Todoroki’s lips curled into a small smile. “I appreciate that, Y/N.”

Bakugo scowled.

It wasn’t Todoroki’s fault, but hearing you say his name like that, so softly, so encouragingly—yeah, it bothered him.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

As the night wound down, people started finishing up their food, settling their bills, and stretching lazily before making their way out.

“Damn, that was good,” Kaminari sighed, rubbing his stomach. “I think I ate too much.”

Mina laughed. “You definitely ate too much.”

One by one, people began saying their goodbyes, heading off in different directions toward the dorms or home.

And that’s when Bakugo knew—this was his moment.

You were slipping on your jacket, adjusting your scarf when he finally forced himself to move.

Kirishima shot him a thumbs-up from across the room, and Sero winked.

Bakugo rolled his eyes before stomping over to you, heart hammering wildly in his chest.

“Oi.”

You looked up at him, blinking. “Oh, hey, Bakugo! What’s up?”

He inhaled sharply through his nose. Okay. Just say it. Say it, dumbass.

But the words wouldn’t come out.

Instead, he found himself standing there like an idiot, fists clenched at his sides, staring at you.

You tilted your head, confused. “Uh… you okay?”

His jaw tensed. This was already going horribly.

And then—because frustration was the only thing that ever helped him push past his nerves—he blurted out:

“Are you really so oblivious?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair before pointing at you aggressively. “You! You’re oblivious! Have you seriously not noticed?!”

Your confusion deepened. “Noticed what?”

He exhaled sharply, cheeks burning. His whole body felt like it was about to explode.

He had two options: Keep making a fool of himself or just say it and get it over with.

He squeezed his eyes shut, inhaled, and then—

“I like you, dumbass!”

Silence.

Bakugo cracked one eye open, stomach twisting into knots.

You were staring at him.

Not laughing. Not recoiling. Just… staring.

Then—

“You… like me?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s what I just said, idiot.”

A slow smile crept onto your lips. “You like me?”

His face turned an even darker shade of red. “Yes! Stop making me say it, damn it!”

You let out a laugh—light, airy, and filled with something he couldn’t quite place. “Wow,” you said, grinning. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t easy.” His voice was gruff, but his hands were twitching at his sides, resisting the urge to do something—anything—with them.

You stepped closer, peering up at him. “You know… I like you too.”

Bakugo’s brain short-circuited.

“…What?”

You laughed again, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I like you, Bakugo. Have for a while now.”

His heart stopped.

Then jump-started at triple speed.

“What?”

You shrugged, smirking. “What? Are you oblivious?”

His eye twitched. “You—you little—”

You poked his cheek and laughed. “Aw, don’t be embarrassed kat’ I’m just messin with ya.”

He exploded.

Not literally. But his entire soul combusted.

“Shut the hell up!” he barked, face practically glowing red.

But you just laughed again, softer this time. Fond. “So… now what?”

He swallowed, heart still racing. “Now… now you let me walk you home, dumbass.”

You beamed. “That sounds nice.”

And as you started walking together, Bakugo felt something strange settle in his chest.

Warm. Light.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

SAKURASZN © 2025 !

[cxosmicxo]

text where reader is drunk??? Pls pls

baddie baddie shot o’clock !!

♡ : i. midoriya, k. bakugo, s. todoroki, e. kirishima, d. kaminari

☆ : gn! reader, fem!reader in denki’s, fluff, like one small suggestive joke-ish thing, characters are aged up and pro heroes

✄ : should i start adding sero??

- in which reader is drunk texting their bf !

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ her .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

⤿ Bakugou Katsuki never believed in sappy romance, until he fell for you.

Bakugou Katsuki didn’t believe in “love at first sight.” It was stupid, unrealistic, and just another distraction. But the first time he saw you—quiet, calm, and completely immersed in a book under the shade of a tree—his world shifted. He didn’t understand it at first, chalking it up to curiosity. But as days turned into weeks, and his glances turned into stolen moments of admiration, he realized he was absolutely gone.

His friends noticed immediately.

“Bro, you’re staring again,” Kaminari teased, smirking.

“Shut up,” Bakugou growled, his ears turning red.

“Just talk to her already!” Kirishima encouraged.

“She’s way out of his league,” Mina chimed in with a playful grin.

He didn’t need their commentary. Bakugou Katsuki was explosive, fearless, and confident in every aspect of his life—except when it came to you.

When he finally gathered the courage to approach you, he was awkward and gruff, masking his nervousness with his usual bravado. “Oi, you dropped this,” he muttered, holding out your pen that you hadn’t even noticed fell.

Your soft “Thank you” and the smile that followed made his heart skip a beat. From then on, he made it his mission to be near you—walking you to class, sitting with you during lunch, and eventually asking you out in the most Bakugou way possible.

“You’re mine now, got it?” he declared one day, his cheeks bright red.

You laughed, nodding. “Got it.”

Years had passed since high school, and Bakugou’s love for you only grew stronger. You were his anchor, his peace in a world full of chaos. He didn’t know how to do romance like the movies, but he showed his love in the little things—making sure you ate, walking on the side of the street closer to the cars, and remembering all the small details about you.

When he proposed, it wasn’t extravagant. It was just the two of you, sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment, watching the sunset.

“Marry me,” he said suddenly, sliding a simple, elegant ring onto your finger before you could even process what was happening.

You looked at him, wide-eyed, before laughing. “You didn’t even let me say yes.”

“Like you’d say no,” he shot back, smirking.

And you didn’t.

Now, standing at the altar, Bakugou was the picture of confidence. His tailored suit fit him perfectly, and his usual scowl was replaced by a nervous determination. He had told himself he wouldn’t cry.

What kind of man cries at his wedding? he had thought, rolling his eyes at the idea.

But then, the doors opened, and you stepped in.

The world seemed to stop.

Your dress was perfect, accentuating everything he loved about you. The way you smiled at him, your eyes glistening with tears, made his heart ache in the best way.

Suddenly, he felt warmth on his cheek.

A tear.

Bakugou blinked, confused for a moment. He never cried. Not when he won his first big fight, not when he graduated, not ever. But now, standing here, looking at you—his future, his everything—he couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Bakugou’s crying,” Kirishima whispered from his spot as a groomsman, his eyes widening.

“Oh my God, I knew this would happen,” Mina gasped, quickly pulling out her phone. “Take a picture, Denki! We’ll frame it!”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, his voice low but venomous, though it didn’t stop the blush creeping up his neck. His glare was nowhere near as sharp as usual, the overwhelming emotion softening even his most dangerous expression.

“Don’t worry, man. This is for the memories,” Kaminari whispered back, grinning as he snapped a picture anyway.

As you reached him, your soft laughter bubbled up when you noticed the commotion. “Are they messing with you?” you asked quietly, taking his hands.

“They’re idiots,” he muttered, squeezing your hands tightly. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and his voice softened, thick with emotion. “But I don’t care. You look… perfect.”

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whispered, your own eyes glistening.

“I love you more,” he said, his voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill again.

The ceremony continued, filled with laughter and love. As Kaminari quietly showed Mina the photo he had taken, they both shared a grin.

“Man, he’s so whipped,” Kaminari whispered.

“And it’s the cutest thing ever,” Mina replied with a smile.

And Bakugou? He didn’t care about the teasing, the jokes, or the photos. His entire world was standing right in front of him, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

You were his everything.

[carefreecoffee]

Flufftober Day 18: Protecting w/ Kirishima Eijirou

Word count: 1.9k, Gender-Neutral reader

You were walking in the bustling city, people chatting, cars zooming and the sound of your favorite playlist ringing throughout your earbuds. Your commute home from work had been casual; that was until the bustling crowds of people started walking faster past unusually. You stop in your tracks curiously, taking out a headphone before feeling the ground beneath you rumb;e. You look back in shock as your eyes lock onto a giant figure breaking through the streets haphazardly– your only instinct is to run with the crowd.

Kirishima was on patrol as he heard the multiple screams from down the street. Rushing down the sidewalk, running through the crowd of panicking civilians, he saw a large, hulking villain destroying buildings by just swinging his arms around aimlessly. His heart sank as he watched the panic unfold. He had to do something to stop the chaos and protect the people. He quickly assessed the situation and made a quick decision. Leaping into the nearest alleyway, seeking cover behind a large dumpster. He needed a better vantage point to survey the area and plan his next move.

As you glanced behind yourself, you saw the giant creature approaching rapidly into your direction. Your eyes widen as your legs take on a mind of their own, passing every alley and block with as much fervor as you could summon. Not even the sudden loss of your headphones that had become lost in the rubble could break you out of your stance.

Kirishima catches a glimpse of you as you run past, your eyes filled with pure fear. He knows he has to act fast to help you. You yelp as you feel the rumbling within the ground coming closer, feeling your legs starting to give out.

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he rushes out from behind the dumpster and activates his quirk, hardening his entire body. He charges towards the giant creature, determined to save the citizen. He braces himself for impact as he smashes into the creature's side, attempting to knock it off balance. The force of the collision created  a shockwave, causing debris to fly in every direction. The creature lumbers unsteadily, giving him a momentary opening. With a swift motion, He grabs you, pulling you to safety, away from the imminent danger. He scans you with a concerned expression, hoping to reassure you and make sure you’re alright. Your eyes widen at the frantic movements as you feel someone’s arms wrap around you, taking you away from the scene. Your grip strengthens on the person out of fear. 

You screw your eyes shut until you are placed down uncharacteristically gently given the situation. You begin to open them wider than ever, seeing none other than the chivalrous hero; Red Riot. As you come to a halt, he turns, giving you a reassuring smile. "Hey, you're safe now, don't worry. Just breathe, okay?" He says, attempting to calm you down. 

Your mouth hangs agape as you nod frantically. The shock is hitting you hard now that you’re still. As you mouth an ‘Okay’ another crash reverberates the ground. "I'm going to go deal with that villain. Stay here. You're safe. You won't get hurt, okay?" He reassures you, giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

He turns away, rushing back into the scene of battle, feeling a surge of determination to protect the innocent and neutralize the threat. The villain was still rampaging, leaving a path of destruction in its wake. It seemed that the creature was impervious to physical attacks, making it even more challenging to take down. Minutes felt like hours until the fight seemed to die down. You heard slight chatter and could see a faint trail of smoke coming in from the crash of the debris. You sat there as instructed, knees to your chest as your arms wrapped protectively around them.

Kirishima catches his breath and takes a second to examine the scene of the battle. In the midst of it, he noticed a familiar figure hidden away within the confines of the dark alleyway. He approached you, a friendly smile on his face. "Hey, you okay there?" He asked, concerned for your well-being.

You look up at him, your breathing ragged but slower than before,  “Y-yes, i'm okay” He crouches down and checks you methodically for any injuries. "That's good to hear," he says, relieved that you’re okay. "You looked pretty shaken up earlier. Do you need to catch your breath? How about we sit for a bit?" he suggested, gesturing to an empty space nearby. 

You nod, sitting together in silence for a few moments, catching your breaths and coming down from the adrenaline of the moment. It's comforting in a way. He glanced over at you, taking in your features in the dim light of the alleyway. 

"You know, you were pretty brave back there. Running through the chaos like that, it takes a lot of courage." He complimented, breaking the silence between you.

“Hm? Oh, thank you I guess…I mean I've never been in such a position before y'know?” You chuckle half-heartedly, still shaken up.

 "Hey, it's okay to be scared in a situation like that. It's natural." He says, giving you a reassuring nod. He decides to lighten the mood and get your mind off of things, "So, what's your name? I never got the chance to properly introduce myself." He asks with a smile. You looked at him, mouth agape until you could muster up an answer, “Y/n, my name is Y/n.” 

"Hey Yuno, my name is Kirishima. It's great to meet you," he says with a friendly tone, extending his hand towards you for a handshake. "I'm glad I was able to help you out there." You take his hand. “Nice to meet you Kirishima, even if it wasn't the um... best situation.” He chuckle’s, trying to ease some of the tension. "Yeah, I guess we really met under some crazy circumstances, huh? But hey, at least we're both safe now, right?" He offers a warm smile.

You nod, “All thanks to you and the other pros. I really do appreciate it.” In the midst of the conversation you hear ambulance wails along with the red and blue lights approaching. As emergency personnel start arriving at the scene, Kirshima knows that it's time for him to move on. He stood up, offering his hand to help you up. "Looks like the authorities are here to take care of things now. How about I walk you home? You still look a bit shaken up, and I wouldn't feel right leaving you to fend for yourself just yet." He asks with a reassuring grin.

You nod, a bit taken aback but knowing it was a part of his duty. “That would actually be really nice. T-thank you Red Riot!” You bow slightly before making your way towards the paramedics. He watches as you're pulled away for a statement, waiting for you to finish up and join him again, ready to escort you to safety. As the two of you walked, he tried to make idle chit chat, hoping to ease any lingering uneasiness you might’ve been feeling. "So, what do you do? Are you a student or do you work nearby?" He ask’s, curious to know more about his unexpected companion. 

“Ah, I'm a receptionist at the law firm down the street. I was actually just on my way home before all of that” His eyes light up curiously, "Law firm, huh? That sounds pretty cool. Do you enjoy it?" 

You shrug. “It is what it is, receptionism isn't the most friendly occupation but I learned how to handle it over time.” You smile and return the favor, “How'd you get into heroism?”

"As for me," He says, a bright grin spreading across his face, "I've always been fascinated by the idea of being a hero, fighting against villains, and helping people. It's something that just resonated with me, you know?" He explained, his voice laced with passion. "And as time went on, I learned more about myself, improved my skills, and worked really hard to become stronger. Here I am now, living my dream as a hero!"

You chuckled at this enthusiasm. “I get what you mean and I think you were meant for it, it's nice to see people following their passions y'know?” The two of you talk a bit more until you had reached the front of your place. “Thank you again, Kirishima” You bow, giving him the most appreciation you could in such a short amount of time. “I can’t thank you enough for the safety you kept me in today!” 

He smiles warmly at your action, waving his arms. "No thanks needed, Y/n. I was just doing what any friendly hero would do!" He examined you for a moment. "You know, Y/n, you surprised me out there today. Despite being scared, you still kept your head high and found the courage to keep going. That takes real strength. It was an honor to have been able to help you." You lifted your head up, feeling warmth rise within your face from the compliment from such a notable hero. Your eyes met his ruby ones as a smile plastered on your face, “Well, I appreciate you walking me home nonetheless, it means a lot.” 

"Of course, it was my pleasure," He replied, returning your smile. "It's getting pretty late, so why don't you get some rest? You've been through a lot today." He suggested, concerned for your well-being. He takes a few steps back, preparing to head back to the agency and get some rest himself. But before he left, he couldn’t help but feel a little bold. I turned back to you with a mischievous grin. "Hey, before we go our separate ways, can I ask for your number? I'd really like to stay in touch."

Before you could fully unlock your door, you looked back at him pleasantly surprised “M-my number?” The words were still echoing throughout your mind. 

He chuckles, realizing he might have overstepped. "Ah, my bad, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's just, I really enjoyed our conversation, and I thought it would be nice to keep in touch. But if you're not comfortable with that, no worries. Sorry if I made you feel weird." he says, giving you an apologetic smile.

“No no!” You begin to walk back to where he was standing, “It just caught me off guard is all!” You send him a smile of reassurance. He relaxed a bit, glad to clear up the misunderstanding. "Alright, sounds good! Here, let's exchange numbers." He takes out his phone as you exchange contact info, each punching in the other's number. Once it's done, he puts away his phone and gives you a grateful nod. "Alright, got it. It was nice meeting you, Y/n. And if you ever need anything or even just want to chat, you know how to reach me now," He offers a friendly wave as he turns to make his way back to the agency.

You wave back happily, retreating into your home, your heart pounding as you texted your friends about everything that had happened that night excitedly– albeit the danger you were put in to get there. 

As Kirishima walks back to the agency, he couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the encounter with you. It's always nice to meet new people and possibly make new friends, especially someone as kind as you. He thinks about your determination and resilience during the incident, appreciating your courage. He feels a strange flutter of butterflies in his stomach, catching him off guard. 

'Wait a minute... Was that... a crush?'

[loves-n-kisses]

so happy to see that you’re back :p

can you do a katsuki x reader fic where Denki broke something of significance to Katsuki so he begged the reader to take the fall for him.

so Katsuki comes into the common room where they’re all hanging out and asks who broke it and when reader takes the blame, he’s really upset and kinda cold about it.

which makes the reader cries but he immediately stops caring about the object to comfort her whilst the rest of bakusquad are confessed

Sorry this took long! Ive had it in my notes for a while, ive had a few hectic days at my job, lol. Awesome request, btw. I hope i did it justice!

Katsuki x Reader - If It Aint Broke, Don't Fix It

A story where Denki breaks something of Bakugou's and Reader takes the fall. But....Bakugou...forgives her? What's up with him?

TW: slight angst, fluff and comfort at the end, Denki being an adorable idiot.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The U.A. dorm common room hummed with the Bakusquad’s usual energy. Kirishima and Sero were debating hero rankings, Mina was painting her nails a bright pink, and Denki paced nervously beside you on the couch. You shot him a wary glance, your stomach churning from the mess he’d dragged you into.

Earlier, Denki had rushed to you, panic in his eyes, holding the shattered remains of a framed photo—Katsuki’s prized possession, a rare picture of him and his mom, Mitsuki, both grinning after he’d won a junior hero contest in middle school. Denki had been fiddling with a charged-up prank, and the frame had taken the hit, glass cracking and the photo bending.

“(Y/N), please!” Denki had begged, hands clasped. “Bakugou’s gonna turn me into a lightning rod! Take the blame, just this once! I’ll do your chores for a month!” His desperation won, and you’d hesitantly agreed.

Now, the door slammed open, and Katsuki stormed in, crimson eyes blazing, the broken frame clutched in his fist. The room fell silent, Mina’s nail polish brush freezing mid-stroke, Kirishima and Sero pausing their debate.

“Which one of you idiots broke this?!” Katsuki roared, holding up the shattered frame, glass glinting ominously. His voice was sharp, cold, and furious. “Fess up, now!”

Your pulse raced. Denki’s pleading eyes locked on you, and you swallowed hard, standing. “It… it was me, Katsuki,” you said, voice shaky. “I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

Katsuki’s gaze snapped to you, his expression icy and piercing. He stepped closer, the frame still in hand. “You? You broke this?” His tone cut deep, frigid and biting. “This ain’t some random trash, (Y/N)! You know what this meant to me, and you just smashed it? Real careless, huh?”

His cold words stung, and tears pricked your eyes. The guilt of lying, his anger, and the fear you’d ruined things overwhelmed you. Tears spilled over, and you turned away, a quiet sob escaping as you hid your face.

Katsuki’s fury faltered, eyes widening. He dropped the frame onto the table with a clatter and crossed to you in seconds, hands gently grabbing your shoulders. “Hey, oi, stop crying,” he said, voice softer, almost frantic. “It’s just a dumb frame, alright? I don’t care that much. Just… don’t cry, (Y/N).” He pulled you into his chest, one hand awkwardly rubbing your back, the other on your head as you sniffled.

The Bakusquad stared, utterly confused. Mina’s jaw dropped, nail polish forgotten. Sero leaned to Kirishima, whispering, “Since when does Bakugou chill out like that?” Kirishima blinked, shrugging. “No clue, man. I thought he’d blow up the dorm over that photo.”

Denki, pale and sweating, finally broke. “W-Wait, Katsuki, it wasn’t her!” he blurted, stumbling forward. “I broke the frame! I was messing with my quirk, and it got wrecked, and I begged (Y/N) to cover for me ‘cause I was scared! I’m sorry, dude!”

Mina gaped, turning to Denki. “You let her take the blame? What?!” Sero shook his head, baffled, while Kirishima frowned, muttering, “Not manly, bro. Why’d you drag (Y/N) into this?”

Katsuki’s head turned, dangerous eyes narrowing at Denki, who flinched and hid behind Sero. “You damn sparky idiot,” he growled, but his grip on you stayed firm. He looked down, scowl softening. “You okay, dumbass? Why’d you cover for that moron?”

You wiped your eyes, voice trembling. “I didn’t want you to hate Denki… or me. I thought I could fix it. I’m sorry, Katsuki.”

He sighed, exasperation mixed with gentleness. “I ain’t mad at you, got it? Don’t do that again.” He glared at Denki, who yelped. “You’re fixing this, sparky, or you’re dead.”

Katsuki guided you to the couch, sitting close, arm still around you. “Forget the frame,” he muttered. “You’re worth more than that junk.” You managed a small smile, and he gruffly wiped a tear from your cheek, ignoring the Bakusquad’s baffled stares as Mina whispered, “Okay, what is happening right now?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------note: should we thank Denki? for, like, bringing them closer together?

my mailbox is open! send in requests, questions, or even statements! I love talking to yall, lol.

-made with loves n' kisses! 💋✨

[peachversace]

fashion killa

chapter two ; and fall into you

[nsfw] — smut (18+) ; bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 20,014 — read on ao3 — read part one on tumblr

tags: strangers to lovers, friends with benefits, pro hero bakugou katsuki, explicit language & sexual content, aged-up characters, porn with plot, model!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, bakugou is a soft yearning idiot who i want to eat up, kirishima eijirou is a good friend, not beta read!

summary:

Fashion Week was supposed to be simple-walk the runway, collect your check, and, if all went according to plan, spend the night with Pro Hero Dynamight. Just a little fun. Nothing more. But getting rid of Bakugou Katsuki proves to be harder than slipping out of a too-tight sample size.

Or, in which a one-night stand with one of Japan's most famous men turns into a relentless game of cat and mouse-and the worst part? You don't hate it.

notes:

the final chapter is here! thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter—it really means a lot to me. this was supposed to go up on sunday, but i didn’t like the ending, so i changed it last minute lol. i hope you guys like it and that it lives up to your expectations. thank you in advance, and happy reading!

enjoy! :D

Things get stranger after that night, but not in a way you could have anticipated. 

You and Katsuki seem to grow closer, slipping into each other’s lives with an ease that feels both natural and unsettling. It's not what you expected. You thought things would stay casual. But there’s a shift now—something in the way you reach for your phone more often, his name lighting up the screen with more frequency.

It starts with simple things. He calls you more, which surprises you because Katsuki’s never been one for chit-chat, but his voice on the other end of the line feels steady, grounding. You catch yourself waiting for those calls, anticipating the sound of his gruff voice grumbling about some villain he had to deal with or asking how your day went. It's not just calls either. Texts come in, pictures too. You send him photos of you in a photoshoot, all glammed up in haute couture, and he replies with short, dry comments, ‘Looking good,’ or ‘Too fancy.’ But you can tell he's looking, really looking. You send pictures from the gym, hair tied back, sweat glistening on your skin. And in return, Katsuki sends you his own pictures. They’re blurry sometimes, like he doesn’t know how to properly frame a shot, and he always scowls in them, half his face obscured. 

He grumbles, “Ain’t good at this photo crap,” but you can see the effort. It’s adorable, especially when he sends you pictures from bed, messy hair and bare chest, a hint of vulnerability in the way the camera captures him. You wonder if he realizes how soft he looks.

You start spending more time together too—more than you’d planned for. It’s not always about the sex now, though that’s still a big part of it. But there’s a sweetness in how you share space. Sometimes, it’s cooking together, and he’ll stand beside you, watching your every move with that sharp focus he has for everything. Other times, it’s movies, the two of you sprawled out on the couch, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders. Katsuki’s not great with words, not in the way some people are, but he doesn’t need to be. His actions speak for him—whether it’s making sure you’re comfortable or tossing a blanket over you when you doze off mid-movie.

The softness between you is unexpected. You’ve seen his gruff, explosive exterior, the way the media paints him as some sort of untouchable force. But here, with you, he’s different. He’s cuddly, something you never would’ve expected from him. He pulls you close without hesitation, his arms firm and warm, always keeping you near. You don’t question it, but it throws you off. This wasn’t what you signed up for—this quiet intimacy that feels more like a relationship than something casual. He’s not supposed to be so sweet, so soft.

One thing that surprises you most is how much he enjoys taking pictures with you. 

You’d never have guessed the gruff, no-nonsense Pro Hero would indulge in such a thing, especially when he’s always grumbling about media shoots and press. But when you’re in one of his hoodies, and you tug him down to take a selfie, your hand gently curling around his jaw, he leans in without protest. There’s this small, content smile that tugs at his lips—subtle but real, and it lights up his face in a way that makes your heart skip. You snap the picture, and he’ll grumble, “Didn’t ask for this,” but you catch him later, zooming in on the photo, his thumb lingering over the screen. There’s a softness in his eyes as he looks at the two of you together.

He’s not one for skincare, either, but when you do face masks or anything remotely involving pampering, he sits there and lets you do it, his face a picture of calm contentment. His quirk may have blessed him with great skin, but he indulges you, letting you push his wild hair back with a fluffy headband, revealing his sharp features. You prep his face, and he just watches you with half-lidded eyes, relaxed in a way you’ve never seen before. He doesn’t even protest when you lean down and kiss him in the middle of it, his lips curving into a small, lazy smile. It’s cute how unbothered he is, how he lets you do whatever you want to him.

You’ve gotten more comfortable with each other in general.

More touching, more kissing, and sex has become something deeper. It’s no longer just an outlet, no longer just physical. It’s a way for the two of you to connect, to be closer. There’s a vulnerability in how he touches you, how his hands roam your body with a quiet reverence. When he presses against you, his skin flush against yours, you feel it—the way his guard drops, the way he lets himself need you in those moments. Your head will fall back, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, his mouth warm and insistent, before his firm hand finds your face, guiding you back to him for another kiss. You feel like you’re floating in those moments, lost in the press of his body, the sound of his voice, and the way he holds you as if you’re something precious.

One night, after several rounds of unraveling each other, Katsuki does something he’s never done before—he opens up. His voice is quiet, almost hesitant, as he starts to talk about the Final War. You weren’t prepared for the weight of it. He tells you about being sent to the frontlines as a child soldier, about how his heart ruptured, the physical agony and the fear that came with it. His right arm, crushed beyond recognition, left him scarred—inside and out. He talks about rehab, about how long it took him to get his arm functioning again. 

And then, in a softer tone, he admits something that surprises you: “I still wanna be number one... but I’m content, y’know? With where I’m at right now.”

You’re lying beside him, his hand heavy on your waist, and you look up at him. His face is dimly lit, and there’s a vulnerability in his expression that makes your heart twist. “I think you’re amazing,” you whisper, your voice soft but sure, your fingers reaching up to gently curl around his jaw, pulling him down for a kiss. It’s slow and sweet, and when you pull away, his cheeks are flushed, a faint pink creeping across his skin.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, embarrassed, but you can see the small, content smile tugging at his lips again, the same one he gives you in those quiet moments when his guard is down.

You smile back, your heart swelling in your chest as you kiss him again. There’s a softness to this moment, to him, and it feels like something has shifted between you. Something you can’t quite put into words yet, but it’s there, lingering in the air, unspoken but undeniable. 

But then there’s a pause, a hesitation. Katsuki’s expression changes, and when he speaks again, it’s quieter. "You’re the one that’s amazin'," he repeats, his voice low, almost like he’s afraid to say it too loudly. The way his words hang between you makes your heart do a strange little flip. You can feel the weight of them. 

You tilt your head slightly, giving him a teasing smile to ease the tension. "What, for walking in 120 mm heels or for letting you do facemasks with me?" you whisper, fingers brushing the scar on his cheek, tracing the jagged line that’s become so familiar to you now. 

He huffs, but there’s a flicker of something more behind his eyes. "Nah," he says, shaking his head. "For bein’ you. For workin’ hard as hell, doin’ all this stuff, and still bein’ able to… to put up with me."

The words hit you harder than you expect. You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You hadn’t realized he saw it that way—like he was a burden, like being with him was something difficult to endure. There’s a vulnerability in the way he avoids your gaze, his usual cocky demeanor gone, leaving just Katsuki—raw and exposed in front of you.

"You’re making it sound like I’m putting up with someone from hell," you say, your voice softer now, trying to coax his eyes back to yours.

He grumbles again, that same frustrated sound, but he still doesn’t look at you, and that’s when you realize just how much he doubts himself. How much he carries with him—his past, his insecurities, the weight of being a Pro Hero. And for the first time, you see how deeply it cuts him, how much he worries that he’s too much for anyone to handle.

"Hey," you whisper, your hand gently guiding his face back to you. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and his eyes, reluctant at first, finally meet yours. "I like putting up with you. You always think so bad about yourself. Stop doing that. Sometimes people just want to be around you, to spend time with you. It’s not weird, and I like spending time with you."

Katsuki’s cheeks flare up with a faint blush, his ears turning a little red at your words. He scoffs again, the sound almost automatic, like he’s trying to shake off the embarrassment. "You’re fuckin’ clingy," he mutters, but the bite in his tone is weak. His eyes flicker with something softer, something grateful.

You grin at him, laughter bubbling up in your chest. "Says the man that’s clinging to me like glue." You lean up on your elbow a little, your smile widening. "I have the pictures to prove it, by the way."

Before you can react, he’s turning his head and biting lightly at your fingers where they rest on his jaw, his teeth just grazing your skin in a teasing nip. It sends a small jolt through you, and you laugh softly, falling back into the pillows, your chest rising and falling with quiet giggles as you look up at him.

Katsuki’s grinning now, a real grin that lights up his face, his usual intensity tempered with affection. He leans down closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and you can feel the way his body relaxes against yours. There’s no distance between you—no walls, no masks. Just you and him, sharing the space in a way that feels... real.

"What?" you whisper, still smiling as you reach up to smooth a hand through his messy hair. "Is my skin glowing or something?"

Katsuki scoffs lightly at your teasing, though there’s a small tug of a smile at the corner of his lips. His crimson eyes stay locked on yours, searching your face with an intensity that always makes your heart race. The heat of his body radiates against you, and even though you’re joking, there’s a flicker of something deeper in the way he holds your gaze, something vulnerable he’s still not used to sharing. 

"Yeah, sure, your skin’s glowin’," he mutters, his voice rough but soft, leaning down closer. "From all those dumb facemasks you make me do." His lips brush your temple, but the grin on his face betrays his usual gruffness.

You laugh, a light sound that melts between the two of you in the dimly lit room. "Dumb facemasks that you enjoy way too much," you fire back, playfully nudging him. "Don’t think I don’t notice how relaxed you get."

He grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, but there’s no real bite behind it. His hand, rough from years of hero work, trails absentmindedly along your side, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, sending tiny shivers down your spine. His touch is softer than you ever expected when you first got involved with him, but now it’s familiar—comforting in its warmth and weight.

His eyes soften as he looks down at you, the usual fire in them dimmed into something warmer, more intimate. "Maybe," he mutters, his voice low. "But I like you better without all that makeup anyway."

The simplicity of the statement, the raw honesty of it, makes your heart squeeze. You let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking your head slightly as you press a kiss to his lips, slow and lingering. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling away, his forehead resting against yours.

There’s a stillness in the room now, a sense of peace that settles between the two of you. It feels like the world outside doesn’t exist, like all the noise and chaos of your lives as pro heroes and public figures has melted away. In this moment, it’s just you and Katsuki—no expectations, no pressure. Just the quiet, simple warmth of being together. 

"You're an idiot," you whisper playfully, breaking the silence as you tap his chest lightly, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. 

"Yeah," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your skin as he presses another soft kiss to your forehead. "Guess I am for you."

Katsuki's words make your heart skip a beat, and you have to bite your lip to stop the smile threatening to break through. The way he says it—so casually yet so earnestly—makes warmth bloom in your chest. You’re not used to this side of him, this softness that he reserves just for you.

“What are your plans tomorrow?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’s afraid to disturb the peace between you.

You think for a moment before replying, "Well… I have Pilates in the morning, and then I’m getting my nails done. Do you have any suggestions?" You stretch your arms lazily above your head, watching him with a playful glint in your eye.

Katsuki shrugs, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. His hair tickles your skin, and you can’t help but let out a soft sigh as your fingers instinctively move to scratch his scalp. The sound he makes in response—a low, content rumble—reminds you of a cat purring, and it makes you smile. He presses a kiss to your cheek, his lips warm against your skin, before mumbling, “Dunno. Whatever makes you feel good.”

You grin, already knowing what will get a reaction out of him. “So if it’s an ugly purple color, you’ll be okay with it?”

As expected, he makes a face, his brows furrowing in clear disapproval. The corner of your mouth twitches in amusement as you roll your eyes. "Don’t worry, I’ll probably go for a nude pink," you murmur, leaning in to nuzzle your nose against his. The closeness between you feels so natural now, like a second skin. "And then I have a meeting with my agent about being a brand ambassador for an upcoming label, but I’m still thinking about it. That’s all."

He hums, a low sound of acknowledgment vibrating through his chest, and then you return the question. "What about you?"

"Got the day off," he says after a beat, his voice a little hesitant as if he’s testing the waters. "Thought… thought maybe I’d cook for ya or somethin’." His fingers brush against your lower back, the warmth of his touch drawing you even closer. It’s so subtle, the way he pulls you in, but it feels like he’s trying to close any remaining distance between your bodies. "Make ya those sushi rolls you liked. The ones you had in the US."

The way he remembers something so small, something you mentioned offhandedly during a trip, makes your breath hitch slightly. It’s not just the gesture itself—it’s the meaning behind it. How vulnerable and open he’s become with you, how he always wants to do things for you, to make sure you’re comfortable. His actions say what his words sometimes struggle to—how much he cares, even if he’s not always good at expressing it.

You swallow, the emotions swirling inside you making your chest feel tight in the best way possible. "You don’t have to do all that, Katsuki," you say softly, your fingers tracing small circles along his shoulder, feeling the strength and warmth beneath his skin. "But I’d love it. You know I’d never say no to your cooking."

He grumbles, his usual tough exterior showing through even in moments like this. "Yeah, well, don’t expect it all the time," he mutters, but the way his fingers tighten slightly on your back tells you he’s already looking forward to it. He likes taking care of you, even if he’ll never admit it outright.

You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering there for a moment. His skin is warm, and the simple act of affection makes him relax even more against you, like he’s letting go of something heavy he’s been holding on to. 

"I’m looking forward to it," you whisper, and the sincerity in your voice seems to catch him off guard. He looks up at you, his usual sharp gaze softened by the quiet intimacy of the moment. There’s something vulnerable in his eyes, something that makes your heart ache in a way that’s both beautiful and terrifying. 

"Yeah," he says, his voice rough but tender. "Me too."

And in that moment, with the quiet warmth of the room surrounding you, it feels like everything is exactly as it should be. The casual arrangement you once had has blurred into something deeper, something more profound. You can feel it in the way he holds you, in the way he speaks to you, in the way he cares for you. 

You never expected this to happen, but now that it has, you’re not sure you want it to stop. Katsuki has wormed his way into your life in a way you hadn’t anticipated, and it scares you, just a little. 

But when he’s this close, when his touch is this gentle, and when his words are this soft, it’s hard to imagine ever wanting to let him go.

It’s like stepping into a high-end restaurant when you walk into Katsuki’s apartment the next day, after finishing up your schedule. 

The moment you enter, the smell of freshly prepared food hits your senses, and the sight of the spread on the dining table takes your breath away. He’s really gone all out—sashimi platters laid out beautifully, with slices of the freshest fish you’ve ever seen; multiple types of sushi from nigiri to uramaki and temaki, each piece looking meticulously crafted. The fried dishes, like ebi furai and karaage, are golden and crisp, making your mouth water at the sight of them.

It’s a lot. More than you ever expected from him, especially after how shy he seemed about cooking this for you. 

But what really catches your attention isn’t the food—it’s the bouquet of flowers sitting at your usual seat.

Your breath hitches as you step closer, reaching out to touch the delicate petals. The bouquet is a stunning mix of roses, lilies, orchids, and carnations, all in varying shades of pink. The arrangement is soft but vibrant, delicate yet full of life, and you can’t help but be completely charmed by the gesture. You pick it up carefully, the scent of the flowers filling the air as you lift the bouquet closer to your face. The blend of colors is beautiful, and it makes your heart flutter.

With the bouquet in hand, you turn to look at him, your expression softening into a teasing but warm smile. "Flowers, huh?" you murmur, your voice light with affection, though there’s an underlying sense of surprise too. You’d never thought Katsuki would go this far, to do something so thoughtful and gentle.

Katsuki stands a few feet away, looking a bit out of his element, his usual confidence slightly faltering. He’s rubbing the back of his neck, a telltale sign of his discomfort with this kind of vulnerable gesture. His eyes flick to the flowers in your hands, and then back to you. His mouth twitches like he’s about to say something, and after a beat, he murmurs, almost bashfully, “It’s the same color as your nails.”

You blink, and then you realize—he’s right. The delicate pink flowers are nearly an exact match for the nude-pink shade you’d mentioned getting done at the nail salon earlier that morning. It’s such a small detail, something you didn’t even think he’d remember, let alone match. It’s thoughtful in a way that makes your chest tighten and your heart swell.

You think you might just melt right there. He’s always been sweet in his own gruff, awkward way, but this? This feels different. This feels like he’s trying to show you something more, to express something he doesn’t have the words for.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, your voice a little breathless as you take a step toward him, the bouquet still in your hands. You want to say something else, to tease him maybe, but the lump in your throat won’t let you. Instead, you just stare at him, feeling the warmth in your chest grow, spreading like wildfire.

He looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, his lips curling into a small scowl. But there’s no bite behind it. If anything, he just looks a little embarrassed. “Don’t make a big deal outta it,” he grumbles, though the way his eyes flicker back to yours betrays his nerves.

But you can’t help it. How can you not make a big deal out of it? He went through all this trouble just to match a detail as small as your nails with the flowers he picked. He cooked an entire feast for you, filled with dishes you love. And all of it—all of it—is done with the kind of care and thoughtfulness that makes your heart ache in the best way.

You set the flowers down gently on the table and step closer to him, your hands reaching for his. You feel the callouses on his fingers as you intertwine them with yours, and he stiffens slightly before relaxing, allowing you to pull him closer. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you whisper, your voice soft and tender. “But I love it. I love everything. Thank you.”

Katsuki’s gaze flickers down to your hands, then back up to your face, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure out how to respond. He shifts his weight, looking uncharacteristically shy. “S’nothin’. Just wanted to do somethin’ nice.”

Your smile grows, and you can’t resist the urge to stand on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his cheek. His skin flushes under your touch, and you feel the way he holds his breath for a second before he relaxes. “Well, it means a lot to me,” you murmur against his skin, your lips lingering just a little longer than necessary.

When you pull back, his gaze locks onto yours, and there’s a softness in his eyes you don’t often get to see. For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the world feeling a little smaller, a little more intimate. The bouquet, the dinner, the way he remembered something as small as the color of your nails—it all feels like more than just casual affection. It feels like he’s slowly, hesitantly opening himself up to you in ways he’s never done before.

And it makes your heart race.

“Now, come on,” you say, breaking the silence with a grin as you tug him toward the table. “Let’s eat before this masterpiece gets cold.”

He huffs, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Sit down already.”

As you take your seat, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. Katsuki takes his seat across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just sit there, surrounded by the feast he’s prepared. There’s a warmth in the air, a sense of quiet happiness that lingers between you.

And as you pick up your chopsticks and dig into the meal he made just for you, you realize that whatever this is between the two of you, it’s something more than you ever could have imagined. Something real. Something that’s growing in ways neither of you expected.

That night feels like a memory already etched into your soul, a moment you know you’ll never forget. 

The signs were all there from the start—the flowers, the dinner, the shy glances exchanged between the two of you over the table. There was a softness in the way you spoke to each other, a quiet warmth that lingered in the air, charged with something more than just affection. 

It was inevitable, the way the night would unfold.

Now, the room is filled with nothing but the quiet creaking of the bed, the sound of skin meeting skin, and the breathless, intimate sounds you and Katsuki make together. Your hands grip the pillow beneath your head as his strong hands hold your thighs, keeping them folded around his hips. He moves with a steady, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. There’s something deeper in the way he touches you tonight—something tender and almost reverent.

Through the haze of pleasure, your eyes blink up at him, catching the intensity of his gaze. It’s overwhelming, the way his molten eyes lock onto yours, filled with an emotion so raw it almost makes your chest ache. You can’t help but tug him closer, wanting to feel his warmth, his skin against yours. He obliges, his forearms coming to rest on either side of your head, bracketing you in. Your legs instinctively tighten around his waist, your ankles crossing at the small of his back, pulling him even closer.

“Katsuki,” you gasp, the word slipping from your lips in a whisper. It’s a plea, a confession, everything wrapped in one. He answers you not with words but with a kiss—soft, slow, and wet. His lips press against yours with a tenderness that belies the strength of his body, and it makes you shiver with how gentle he’s being. There’s something different in the way he’s moving, like he’s trying to tell you something he can’t quite put into words.

Then, his voice breaks the silence, low and vulnerable. “Say my name,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck.

The need in his voice makes your heart stutter. You feel his vulnerability, the rawness of him asking for something so simple, yet so important. So you do—you say his name over and over, like a mantra. “Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki…” Each word is punctuated by a kiss, your lips brushing against his in fleeting touches. His name feels sacred on your tongue, like it’s the only thing that matters in this moment.

His eyes darken, flecks of gold and violet swirling in the molten depths of his gaze. It’s like he’s seeing straight through you, into the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel bare, exposed. But in the best way. You’re not just giving yourself to him; you’re sharing something far more intimate, something unspoken but understood. The two of you are drowning in each other—in the kisses, the warmth of your skin pressed together, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

He’s exploded you, just like his quirk, and in his touch, you feel like fireworks—bright, burning, alive. Every time he moves, you feel like you’re breaking apart in the best way, only to come back together, more whole than before.

And then, Katsuki slows his movements, like he’s trying to savor every second of this. His thrusts become deep, deliberate, each one dragging out the moment as if he never wants it to end. There’s something reverent about it, like he’s worshipping you, wanting to memorize the way you feel, the way your body responds to him. It’s so intense, so real, that it almost overwhelms you. 

You can’t help but moan softly, your body arching into his as he moves within you. The sensation is slow, building like a crescendo, and you feel like you’re on the edge of something greater than either of you. You’re not just feeling pleasure—this is something deeper. His touch, his kiss, the way he holds you, it all makes you feel like you’ve become something otherworldly, like a star burning brightly in the night sky.

His lips brush against your ear, and in the quiet between breaths, you hear him whisper, “You’re incredible.” The words are hushed, almost like a secret, but they hit you hard, sinking deep into your heart. He’s never been great with words, but in this moment, he doesn’t need to be. The way he touches you, the way he holds you, speaks volumes.

And just like that, you feel yourself slipping, falling into that blissful oblivion, with Katsuki right there with you. The world outside disappears, and all that exists is this—the two of you, tangled together, lost in the feeling of each other. Time slows, the space between each breath stretches, and for a moment, it feels like you’re not just two people anymore. You’ve become something greater, something inseparable, something you never want to let go of. 

As the two of you finally find release, together, it feels like the stars themselves have exploded inside of you, leaving you breathless, weightless, and utterly content.

It’s close to dawn, and the first hints of light peek through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. 

You’re completely spent, bodies tangled together, exhausted after countless rounds of pleasure, yet it’s not just the physicality that keeps you close. It’s the warmth of his touch, the familiarity of it, the way his body instinctively presses against yours. Katsuki is holding you like you’re something precious, his lips brushing over your skin—your jaw, your neck, your shoulders—leaving behind tender kisses in his wake. His hands glide over your hips, your stomach, your thighs, tracing your curves with a gentle reverence that makes your breath hitch. There’s something so intimate in the way he touches you now, not just as a lover, but as someone who’s cherishing every moment.

You nuzzle closer, your head resting against his muscular bicep, pressing a soft kiss to it with a smile. His warmth surrounds you, and you can feel his chest rise and fall with every breath he takes. The silence between you is comfortable, peaceful, only filled with the sound of your shared breaths and the occasional rustling of the sheets.

In a teasing, hushed tone, you break the stillness, “You never told me what you think of my nails.” 

Katsuki huffs a quiet laugh against your cheek, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Idiot,” he mumbles, the insult carrying no real bite. His teeth sink into your skin teasingly, making you let out a startled squeak, but you laugh when you feel his lips press a soft kiss in the same spot. His voice is a little rough, but warm as he admits, “They look good.”

You smile at his response, feeling the warmth of his approval as it spreads through you. “Good,” you whisper back, your voice soft in the quiet room. You let the moment drift into comfortable silence once again, enjoying the simple pleasure of being close to him, his body still pressed to yours. The bed shifts slightly as you both move, adjusting your positions to be closer, your limbs lazily draped over each other.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, cutting through the silence, and you instinctively reach for it. You scroll through a few messages before opening the camera, catching your reflection on the screen. There’s a faint flush to your cheeks, and you can see the small marks he left on your skin—little love bites trailing down to your collarbone, proof of the night’s passion. You look at yourself, and you can’t help but smile.

You’re glowing.

Before you can dwell on it, Katsuki shifts beside you, slowly leaning in to rest his head against yours, his weight a comforting presence. Your smile softens as you press the button on the camera, capturing the two of you in the frame. He doesn’t protest—he never really does when you take pictures anymore—and there’s a softness in his eyes, a quiet contentment that’s so different from the sharp, hardened persona he shows the world. Here, with you, he’s just Katsuki, sleepy-eyed and tender, his face relaxed in a way that makes your heart swell.

You click on the video option, and still, he says nothing, just watches as you record. He leans further into you, his body language loose and easy, completely at peace in your presence. You lift your hand to his jaw, gently scratching at the stubble growing there, and he blinks lazily, his eyes half-lidded as he leans into your touch. His vulnerability is on full display, and it’s something so personal, so special, that it makes your chest tighten with affection.

Without thinking, you turn your head and press a soft kiss to his lips. He lets you, meeting your kiss with a slow, sleepy response, his lips warm and slightly chapped. The kiss is tender, and when you pull away, it leaves behind a small, wet sound that makes you smile. You press another, quicker kiss to his lips before glancing back at the camera, capturing the quiet intimacy of the moment. 

On the screen, you see him with that small, almost shy smile curling at the corners of his lips. It’s a rare expression, one that he only seems to show when he’s with you, and it makes your heart flutter. There’s no mask here, no front, just him—content, soft, and utterly at ease with you.

And in that moment, you realize how deeply you’ve both fallen into this. How much you’ve come to mean to one another. His presence feels like home, like something you’ve been missing all along. 

There’s something deeper here, something you didn’t expect, and now it feels terrifyingly real.

And that thought scares the hell out of you.

You avoid him after that night.

It’s dumb; it’s stupid; it’s insane, but after that night, the intimacy had shaken you to your core, and you’re not ready to deal with the weight of what that means. The soft way he touched you, the vulnerability in his voice when he asked you to call him by his name—those aren’t things that fit into your neat little box labeled casual. And you don’t want to face the fact that whatever this thing is between you and Katsuki, it stopped being casual a long time ago.

So, you pull away. You don’t call him, don’t text back as often, and when he tries to reach out, you tell him you’re busy. It’s not entirely a lie. Work is busy. You’ve been booked back-to-back with photoshoots for Vogue China, campaigns for Kintsugi and Chanel, and appearances for Tsukiyo. Haute Couture Week is just around the corner, and you’re drowning in preparations. 

But the truth is, it’s easier to hide behind your schedule than face the reality of what’s happening between you and Katsuki. You bury yourself in work, hoping the distance will clear your head, will give you time to sort out your feelings. Because you’re not sure what you want anymore. Do you still want something casual? Or has it become something more? You’re not ready to answer that question, not ready to confront the feelings that have begun to creep up on you.

And then, late one night, the consequences of your actions come knocking—literally.

It’s around one in the morning when there’s a knock at your door. The sound startles you, breaking the quiet of your apartment, and you instantly know who it is. You hesitate for a second, your heart racing as you walk over and pull the door open.

Katsuki stands there, still in his hero gear, covered in soot and sweat, fresh from patrol. His eyes are sharp, but there’s a softness in the way he looks at you—something like confusion, or maybe even hurt. He doesn’t waste any time.

“You avoidin’ me or somethin’?” His voice is gruff, but there’s a vulnerability in it, the kind that makes your chest tighten.

“No!” you blurt out, too quickly. Your voice sounds high, and you can’t even convince yourself. “No, I’ve just been... busy. You know how it is.”

He narrows his eyes, his expression hardening. “Busy, huh?”

You nod, trying to hold his gaze, but your heart is pounding in your ears. “Yeah. Work’s been crazy lately.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stares at you with that intense, unreadable look of his, and you feel the guilt crawling up your throat. You expect him to yell, to snap at you, but when he finally speaks, his voice is low, hesitant.

“Did I... do somethin’ wrong?”

The question hits you harder than you expect. You see the hurt in his eyes now, the way his jaw tightens, like he’s bracing for something. Your chest tightens, and you want to reach out, to reassure him, but you hesitate. You shake your head quickly. “No, Katsuki, you didn’t do anything. It’s... it’s not you, it’s me.”

His entire body tenses at your words, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?”

You take a step back, rubbing your arms nervously. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you say quietly, almost like you’re hoping he won’t hear you.

He takes a step closer, his voice firm, almost demanding. “Do what?”

You swallow, trying to find the right words, but they stick in your throat. “This... us. I wanted things to stay casual, you know? Casual but serious? But now... everything feels different… and I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship.”

He’s silent for a beat, his jaw clenching, his fists tightening at his sides. “So avoidin’ me was your solution?” His voice is sharp now, tinged with frustration and hurt. He’s not yelling, but his tone cuts through you.

“No, it’s not like that. I just didn’t know how to—”

“Didn’t know how to what?” He interrupts, his voice rising slightly, his eyes flashing. “Didn’t know how to tell me I’m just some fuckin’ fling to you?”

“No!” you shake your head desperately, stepping forward, but the words feel stuck, like no explanation is good enough. “It’s not like that, I just—”

“Then what?” His voice cracks, and for a moment, you see something raw in his expression. He lets out a shaky breath and takes a step back, his shoulders slumping as he runs a hand through his messy hair. The usual fire in his eyes dims, replaced with exhaustion—emotional exhaustion. He looks tired. Tired of fighting for you. “Y’know what? Whatever. Do whatever the hell you want.”

You freeze as he turns, his back to you, and walks toward the door. Your mouth opens to stop him, but no words come out. You watch helplessly as he reaches for the door handle, his movements slow and heavy, like he’s waiting for you to say something—anything. 

But you don’t. 

The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence that follows is deafening. 

You stand there, your heart pounding, staring at the empty space where he just stood. The weight of the conversation, of everything you didn’t say, settles in the pit of your stomach, and for the first time, you realize just how badly you’ve messed up. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to feel this way. But it does. And now, you’re left standing in the aftermath of your own avoidance, the silence of the room echoing with the absence of him.

And for the first time, you wonder if it’s too late to fix things.

────────────────────────

The weeks after your... breakup? Was it even that? You still don’t know how to label it, but whatever it was, it’s hard. It hurts more than you thought it would, more than you ever expected it could. You don’t cry easily, you’ve never been the type to fall apart over someone, but Katsuki—Bakugou—was different. His absence feels like a missing piece of your life, a hole that you can’t seem to fill no matter how much you try.

You find yourself crying at night, tears slipping down your cheeks as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s a quiet kind of crying, the kind where your chest aches and your throat tightens, but you don’t make a sound. It’s unexpected, this grief, this sense of loss. You hadn’t realized how much he meant to you until he wasn’t there anymore. Until the warmth of his presence, his gruff voice, his touch was gone, leaving you cold and hollow.

But you push through it. You force yourself to keep going, to focus on your work, because that’s what you do. You’ve always been good at throwing yourself into your career when things get hard, and this time is no different. Even if your heart feels like it’s been ripped out. Even if you feel like you’re walking around with this empty, aching space inside you. 

Even if it feels like... love.

But you don’t let yourself dwell on that thought. You shove it down, deep inside, where you don’t have to deal with it. Instead, you work. You focus on your job, on the constant demands of your schedule. Haute Couture Week in Paris comes quickly, and you’re on a plane before you even realize it, throwing yourself into the chaos of the fashion world.

Paris is as hectic and glamorous as always. You’re swept into a whirlwind of fittings, castings, and shows. You walk down runways draped in the most luxurious fabrics, you pose for countless photoshoots, you attend brand events where everyone looks perfect, where everyone seems to have it all together. On the surface, you look the part—you’re poised, composed, radiant. But inside, your thoughts are consumed with him.

Every time you stand still for more than a second, your mind drifts back to Katsuki. To the way he looked that night at your door, the hurt in his eyes, the way he walked away. You think about the nights you spent with him, about the softness in his touch that you hadn’t expected, about the way he kissed you with such intensity that it made you feel like you were the only person in the world. 

You miss the way he would scowl when he was embarrassed, the way he’d flick your forehead when you teased him, the way he’d grumble but still pull you closer when you were lying in bed together. You miss him, and no matter how much work you bury yourself in, that feeling doesn’t go away. 

And you do bury yourself in work. 

You walk runway after runway, your legs aching from the hours spent in heels. You attend fittings, standing perfectly still as designers adjust fabric on your body, their hands moving with practiced precision. You barely eat, following the strict diet that keeps you in shape for the shows, even when your stomach growls in protest. You push through photoshoot after photoshoot, your face a mask of calm professionalism even when your head feels like it’s going to burst from exhaustion.

By the time Haute Couture Week ends, you’re exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally. But there’s no time to rest, no time to stop and process the whirlwind of emotions that have been swirling inside you since that night with Katsuki. September is coming fast, and with it, the next fashion month. Castings have already started, and of course, you’re booked solid. Tsukiyo, Ryūmon, Dsquared2, Dior—they all want you, and you don’t have the luxury of slowing down.

You tell yourself that this is what you need. That keeping busy is good, that focusing on your career will help you forget. But late at night, when the city around you is quiet and your hotel room feels too big, too empty, you can’t stop your thoughts from drifting back to him. To the way he said your name, his voice rough but soft at the edges. To the way he held you close after everything, his hands gentle on your skin. To the way he looked at you, like you were more than just some casual fling, like you were something that mattered.

And that’s what scares you the most.

Because deep down, you know it was never just casual for him. You saw it in the way he touched you, in the way he let you call him by his first name, in the way he always made sure you were comfortable, that you were okay. You could feel it in the way he held you close, even when he didn’t say the words. Katsuki was serious about you, and that terrified you because you hadn’t let yourself believe that you could be serious about him too. 

But now, lying in your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling in the dim light, you wonder if maybe... maybe you were serious about him too. Maybe this wasn’t just some casual thing for you either. Maybe you let your fear get the best of you. Maybe you pushed him away because you were scared of what it meant to feel this way about someone.

Maybe... it’s too late to fix it.

You first meet Kirishima Eijirou at the brand event for Yūgen, a high-end luxury brand that’s slowly carving its name into the industry. 

The event is bathed in understated elegance, the kind that makes everything feel weightless, like an ethereal dream. The fragrance of Yūgen lingers in the air, soft but pervasive, the scent weaving in and out of your senses. It’s a haunting aroma—woody, floral, with a touch of something mysterious that stays with you long after you leave the room. The brand’s aesthetic mirrors that feeling, subtle craftsmanship and poetic beauty all wrapped in quiet luxury.

You’re wearing one of Yūgen’s finest designs: The Moonlit Silk Gown, a floor-length masterpiece in pearlescent ivory that moves like liquid moonlight against your skin. The cherry blossom embroidery is so delicate, it looks as though it might dissolve at any moment. The backless design leaves a trail of silk down your spine, each movement making you feel like a walking work of art, fragile but powerful. You look flawless—because you have to—but inside, you’re far from it. 

It’s been a long week. A long month, really. 

Physically, you’re exhausted. Every photoshoot, every runway, every campaign pulls energy from you in a way that leaves you hollow by the end of the day. But emotionally? That’s where the real toll is. It’s been weeks since you and Katsuki—Bakugou, you remind yourself, like a bad habit you need to kick—had your falling out, and despite throwing yourself into work, the ache hasn’t dulled. 

A vacation sounds tempting, but the thought of having time—time to rest, time to think—is too much. You don’t want to think. Not about what happened, not about the way you avoided him, not about the hurt in his eyes that still haunts you late at night. So you bury yourself in everything else—work, events, anything that keeps you moving forward without looking back.

The event is in full swing, and you’ve spent hours mingling, moving through the crowd like a ghost, smiling, nodding, talking to people whose faces blur together after a while. Celebrities, designers, businessmen, all wanting a piece of your attention. You’re good at it—the small talk, the easy charm, the graceful way you handle yourself. But by the time you finally find a moment to sit down, you feel like you’re about to collapse.

Your feet ache from the heels you’ve been wearing all night, sharp pains shooting through your legs with each step. Your head pounds from the constant hum of conversation, lights, and the weight of it all. You take a deep breath, trying to center yourself, to focus on anything other than the discomfort coursing through you. You consider finding an excuse to leave early, to escape the noise and the pressure, but before you can even act on it, a voice cuts through the noise around you.

“Hi, may I sit here for a moment?”

You blink, looking up, surprised to find a tall figure standing over you, smiling. It takes you a second to place him—Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Pro Hero Red Riot. 

He’s famous, one of the top heroes in the country, known for his kindness as much as his strength. You’ve heard about him before, mostly from Katsuki. Despite Bakugou’s endless grumbling about Shitty Hair this, Shitty Hair that, you could always tell there was a lot of affection there. Kirishima is one of Bakugou’s closest friends, a bond that goes back to their high school days. 

It’s odd, meeting one of Bakugou’s friends now, after everything that’s happened between you two. You’ve only met Kaminari and Ashido briefly, and that was back when things with Katsuki were... different. Now, you don’t know where you stand with him, let alone the people in his life. 

But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Not after how things ended.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you say, forcing a polite smile. Your voice is steady, though inside, you feel the familiar tension creeping back up your spine. You watch as Kirishima sits down beside you, his broad frame filling the space with a kind of easy warmth. He’s dressed in a sleek black suit, the fabric perfectly tailored to his muscular form. A golden chain hangs around his neck, catching the soft light of the room. 

He doesn’t feel overwhelming, though. Despite his large frame and the unmistakable air of strength he carries, Kirishima exudes a kind of gentleness that puts you at ease almost immediately. His presence is the complete opposite of the tension that’s been gnawing at you all night. 

“Long event, huh?” Kirishima says, his voice light, but there’s a genuine empathy in his tone. It’s the kind of voice that invites you to relax, to drop the mask you’ve been wearing all night.

You nod, offering him a tired smile. “Yeah. It’s been a long week, actually.”

He chuckles softly. “I bet. These things can be exhausting, even for someone like you.” His eyes flicker down to your gown, admiration clear in his gaze. “You look incredible, by the way. That dress... it’s something else.”

You let a tired smile curl around your lips. “Thanks,” you say softly, though the compliment feels weightless. You’ve been hearing it all evening, and the words don’t really touch you anymore. 

Kirishima smiles back, but his expression carries a hint of concern now. His easygoing demeanor is still there, but there’s something more perceptive in his gaze. 

There’s a pause, a moment of silence between the two of you, as the murmur of the event continues around you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to mind the quiet. “You seem overworked,” he says after a moment, his voice gentle but probing.

You shrug, taking a sip from the champagne in your hand. The bubbles fizzle, but even the sharp taste of alcohol does little to break through the numbness you’ve been carrying all night. “I am,” you admit.

He raises a brow, clearly concerned. “Why don’t you take a break then?”

The answer comes to you immediately, almost on instinct. “I don’t want to,” you say flatly. “Taking a break means having time for myself, and that’s the last thing I need right now. Plus, I can’t.” You gesture vaguely, feeling the weight of your schedule already pressing down on you. “Fashion Week is in two months, and my calendar’s already packed. There’s no time.”

Kirishima hums in understanding, but there’s something unsaid in the air between you. His gaze softens as he looks at you, clearly mulling over his next words. The silence stretches, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he knows about you and Bakugou—if Katsuki ever mentioned you to his friends. Did he talk about you? Did they know you were… something, once? The thought makes your heart flutter, but it’s quickly followed by the familiar ache. You feel a lump rise in your throat as you try to push it all down.

Before you can dwell on it further, Kirishima finally speaks. “You know, I have a friend,” he says, his tone casual but laced with something deeper. “He kind of reminds me of what you’re going through. Recently, he went through something… rough, and it’s been hard on him. He’s been burying himself in work, and honestly, he’s not the same as he used to be. Not as happy, not as... alive. Like, something’s missing, you know?”

Your breath hitches. You know where this is going, but you can’t stop yourself from listening, from feeling every word sink deeper.

“The funny thing is,” Kirishima continues, his voice softening, “he never really told us about it. We found out by accident, actually—one of our friends snooped through his phone and found a picture.” He chuckles lightly, but it’s a sad sound. “He was pissed, obviously, but he didn’t stay mad for long. I think it’s because back then, he was still happy. Whatever he had, it made him content. But then… things happened.”

He turns to look at you, and his smile is sympathetic, almost knowing. “I think you understand.”

Yeah. He definitely knows. 

The weight of his words settles in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel the guilt rise up, thick and choking, but you force yourself to keep your expression neutral. You don’t want to show just how much it’s affecting you. “I hope your friend is doing okay,” you manage, though your voice comes out quieter than you intended.

Kirishima shrugs, his eyes flickering with a sadness of their own. “He says he is, but… I know him. He’s not.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. It’s all your fault. You can feel it—deep down, you know it. You’ve hurt him, and now he’s suffering because of it. The thought makes your chest tighten painfully. “I bet that… something he had misses him, too,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe they didn’t realize how important he was until it was too late.”

Kirishima smiles, but it’s tinged with that same sadness. “Yeah. That’s usually how it goes, isn’t it? We don’t realize what we’ve lost until it’s gone.”

You let out a small, bitter chuckle, nodding in agreement. The weight of the truth in his words is almost unbearable. You didn’t realize. Not until it was too late. And now, you’re left with nothing but the hollow ache of what used to be.

Kirishima watches you carefully, as if weighing his next words. “But, you know,” he says after a pause, “my friend, for all his gruffness… he’s pretty forgiving. He’s changed a lot since we were kids. He’s softened, in his own way.”

Your heart stutters at his words. You feel the lump in your throat grow bigger, making it hard to breathe. “Do you…” You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Do you think he’d forgive that something? If they tried to make things right?”

Kirishima shrugs, but there’s a softness in his gaze as he looks at you. “I think he would. He misses them more than they probably realize. But… they won’t know unless they try.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, and before you can say anything else, Kirishima stands up, offering you a kind smile. “It was nice talking to you. And hey, think about that vacation. It might be exactly what you need.”

You nod, too overwhelmed to say much in response, and watch as he walks away, his presence fading into the crowd.

The second he’s gone, your mind spins in a thousand directions. You sit still, your thoughts a jumbled mess of guilt, regret, and longing. You think about what Kirishima said—about Katsuki, about how he misses you, about how he might forgive you if you reached out.

Is it possible? Could he really forgive you? After everything?

Your heart races as you play the conversation over and over in your head, and slowly, a realization starts to settle in. You’ve been running from your feelings for weeks, but now… maybe it’s time to stop. 

Maybe it’s time to try. 

That’s when you make your decision. 

You’re done hiding; done avoiding the truth.

The commute to his apartment is hell. 

Everything that could go wrong, does. There’s an accident on the highway, forcing your driver to navigate the congested streets of Musutafu. The city is thick with humidity, and a summer storm has turned the streets into rivers. The rain pounds against the car windows relentlessly, and every drop seems to mock you, making you feel like the world itself is pushing back against this decision.

A few blocks from Katsuki’s apartment, the road is blocked by construction. Of course it is. Because, why wouldn’t it be? You’re so close, and the frustration bubbles up inside you until it spills over. Without thinking, you throw the door open and leap out of the car, pulling off your heels and clutching them in your hand. The rain immediately drenches you, soaking through the silk of your gown. 

But you run. Barefoot through the city streets, you run.

By the time you reach his building, you’re a sight—your silk dress clings to your skin, the once-elegant fabric now heavy and dripping, your hair plastered to your face. Your heels, still in your hand, are soaked through, and your feet slap against the slick pavement as you take the final steps to his door.

You knock, and it only takes a few moments before the door swings open. Katsuki stands in the doorway, his body immediately tensing as his gaze sweeps over you. His eyes go wide, and you can see the confusion—maybe even concern—flicker in them as he takes you in. 

You probably look like a drowned rat, soaking wet and panting from your sprint, but that’s not what gets to you. It’s him. It’s the way he looks. He’s tired. So tired. His eyes are shadowed with exhaustion, and the bags under them make it clear he hasn’t been sleeping. His broad shoulders are hunched, his usual fire subdued, and that alone breaks something inside of you. 

You did this to him.

“What the fuck—” he starts, his voice rough, but you cut him off before he can get any further.

“No. You listen to me.” You step forward, your heart hammering in your chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps from your run. “I want to talk. I couldn’t do that last time.”

His mouth snaps shut, and he blinks, clearly thrown by the intensity in your voice. He nods, just slightly, a gesture so small that most people wouldn’t even notice it—but you do. He’s listening.

You take a breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside you, and then you begin. “I never meant to avoid you,” you say, voice shaky but determined. “I just… wasn’t ready to deal with the weight of what happened. I wasn’t ready to confront the feelings that you—” You swallow hard. “—the feelings you gave me.”

Katsuki’s eyes stay locked on yours, and you can see the tension in his jaw, the way he’s trying to keep himself calm, to hear you out.

“I always thought I wasn’t ready for a relationship,” you continue, feeling the words start to spill out faster, as if you need to get them out before you lose your nerve. “I thought I wanted something casual. But you… you changed that. You made me realize how wrong I was.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you force yourself to keep going. “I miss you. I miss you all the time. I miss your warmth, your kisses, the way you hold me close, the way you always make sure I’m comfortable, the way you’re grumpy but always so sweet… I miss everything about you.”

His breathing picks up, a faint hitch in his chest, and you notice the way his hands flex at his sides, like he’s trying to keep himself grounded.

“You were never just a fling to me,” you say, your throat tightening with emotion. “And I’m sorry I made you feel like you were. I’m sorry for everything. I was scared, and I didn’t know what I wanted, but now I do. I want you.”

You see him stiffen at those words, his expression shifting, but you press on. You have to say it all, everything.

“Today… today made me realize just how stupid I’ve been,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know what I had until I lost you. And I’m—” You choke slightly on the words, but push through them. “I’m in love with you.”

He inhales sharply, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet hallway, but he doesn’t move. His eyes widen slightly, but you can’t stop now.

“I think about you all the time,” you continue, your voice shaking with every word. “I feel like such an idiot, because I had everything—you—and I screwed it up. I was scared, and I—I let you walk away, but I don’t want to make that mistake again. I want you, Katsuki. I’m choosing you.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you, each one carrying the weight of everything you've been too scared to admit, too scared to confront. The hallway is quiet, save for the sound of your uneven breathing and the faint drumming of rain against the building outside. Katsuki is still standing there, his broad frame taking up the entire doorway, but he's utterly still. His eyes are locked on yours, wide and unblinking, as if he's trying to process every single word you’ve just thrown at him. 

And you know Katsuki. 

You know him in ways most people don’t. He’s strong, stubborn, and often explosive, but beneath that tough exterior is a vulnerability that he hides from the world. He doesn’t let people in easily, not really. His sharp edges and brash attitude are a shield, a way to protect himself from the constant pressure, the overwhelming expectations. He’s used to people seeing him as a weapon, a force of nature. But never as something to be chosen—never as someone who could be the safe place for someone else.

So when you stand here, drenched in rain and raw emotion, telling him that you do choose him, that you’re in love with him, it shakes him to his core. You can see it in the way his breath catches, in the way his body tenses like he’s bracing for impact. His eyes, usually so full of fire, are now filled with disbelief, as if he’s trying to convince himself that this is real, that you're real.

His lips part slightly, but no words come out. It’s like he’s frozen, caught between wanting to say something and not knowing how to. Bakugou Katsuki, the man who always has something to say, who always knows how to react, is speechless. 

The silence stretches on, and with each passing second, your heart feels like it’s being squeezed tighter and tighter. You’ve laid everything out—your heart, your soul, your fears—and the silence in return feels like a weight pressing down on your chest. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and your throat tightens, making it hard to breathe.

“Say something,” you whisper, your voice trembling as the tears finally start to spill over. You can’t stop them anymore. They fall freely now, mixing with the rain still dripping from your soaked hair and clinging to your skin. “Please.”

Katsuki’s eyes flicker, his jaw tightening as if he’s fighting some internal battle. He’s never been good with words—he’s never been good with feelings—and you can see how much he’s struggling right now. The vulnerability on his face is something you’ve only seen a handful of times, and it cuts through you like a knife. 

Finally, he exhales sharply, a sound that’s more like a growl than a breath, and he takes a step forward. His hand reaches out, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before he cups your face, his palm warm against your cold, rain-soaked skin. His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek, the gesture so uncharacteristically gentle for him that it makes your heart ache even more.

“You… fuckin’ idiot,” he mutters, his voice rough and thick with emotion. There’s no anger in his words, though—just a kind of raw frustration and something deeper, something more vulnerable. His crimson eyes are locked on yours, searching your face as if he’s trying to make sure this is real, that you’re not going to disappear on him again. “You think… you think I didn’t fuckin’ want this? That I didn’t want you?”

You blink up at him, the tears still blurring your vision. His voice is cracking in a way you’ve never heard before, and it hits you just how much this means to him. 

“I wanted you,” he says, his hand still cradling your face as he leans in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “Fuck… I still want you.” His voice is raw, the vulnerability bleeding through with every word. “But you…” He swallows hard, his other hand coming up to grip your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer. “You pushed me away. You made me think… I wasn’t enough. Like I wasn’t worth shit to you.”

The pain in his voice is palpable, and it makes your chest ache in a way that feels almost unbearable. You shake your head, your own voice cracking as you try to get the words out. “No. No, Katsuki, that’s not—”

He cuts you off, his grip tightening just slightly, but not in a way that hurts. It’s like he’s holding on to you for dear life, afraid that if he lets go, you’ll disappear again. “You don’t get it,” he mutters, his breath hot against your skin. “No one… no one ever fuckin’ chooses me. Not like this. You think I didn’t want you to come after me? You think I didn’t want you to fight for me?”

His words hit you like a freight train, and you can’t stop the sob that escapes your lips. He’s right. You did push him away. You made him feel like he wasn’t worth it, like he didn’t matter as much as he should have. And now, seeing the pain in his eyes, hearing the hurt in his voice, it feels like a knife twisting in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Katsuki. I was scared, and I didn’t know how to handle it, but I… I love you. I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you again.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to find the truth in your words. Then, slowly, his expression softens, the hardness in his gaze melting away as he exhales a shaky breath. His thumb brushes over your cheek again, wiping away the fresh tears. 

“Shitty timing,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. In fact, there’s something almost tender in the way he says it, like he’s trying to hold on to his usual roughness, but it’s slipping through his fingers. 

You let out a shaky laugh, your tears still flowing, but now there’s a warmth building in your chest—hope, maybe. You can feel it in the way he’s holding you, in the way his body is slowly relaxing against yours. He still wants you. He still cares.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I know.”

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The rain continues to fall outside, the world around you moving on without care, but in this small space, it’s just the two of you. Just Katsuki and you, standing in the doorway of his apartment, soaked to the bone and hearts laid bare.

Finally, he pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace that leaves no space between you. His chin rests on top of your head, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his heart beats against yours. 

“Don’t run from me again,” he murmurs, his voice gruff but laced with something soft, something tender. “I won’t fuckin’ let you.” 

You nod against his chest, your arms wrapping around him as tightly as you can. “I won’t. I promise.” 

He’s warm and so familiar, and you pull away from the embrace slowly, your fingertips grazing the sharp edge of his jaw as if grounding yourself in the solidity of him. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and there’s a slight tremor in his breath, a vulnerability that only you get to see. With your hands framing his face, you look up into his eyes—those deep, crimson eyes that burn like embers in the dim light of the hallway—and you murmur, “I love you.”

The words are soft but sure, slipping from your lips like a secret, and they hang in the air between you, filling the space with something fragile yet undeniably real. Katsuki’s breath hitches, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that betrays the storm brewing inside him. His hands, which have always been rough, steady, and unyielding, now grip your waist gently, like he's afraid you might vanish if he holds too tightly.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he closes his eyes for the briefest moment, letting the weight of your confession settle inside him, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that you rarely get to see. It’s raw, unguarded, and it steals the air from your lungs. His head dips, and with a shuddering breath, he captures your lips with his own.

The kiss is tender, a slow unfolding of everything unsaid. It’s not rushed or frantic—it’s a return, a homecoming. It feels like stepping back onto familiar shores after being adrift for too long. His lips, warm and firm, taste of all the things you missed, of safety and fire, of passion restrained but not diminished. His kiss is like the first light of dawn breaking across the horizon, soft yet full of promise. It’s the summer sun that melts the tension from your bones, the serene hush of winter’s first snow, the gentle bloom of spring flowers, and the quiet fall of autumn leaves—all of it wrapped into one. A constant rhythm, pure and right, grounding you in the moment.

Before you realize it, he’s pulling you into his apartment, the door shutting behind you with a soft click. Your heels clatter to the floor in the genkan, forgotten as his strong arms wrap around you, lifting you with effortless grace. Your hands find their place again, cradling his jaw, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips seek yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. You’re weightless in his arms, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he guides you down the familiar hallway, each step measured and deliberate, leading you toward the sanctuary of his bedroom.

The scent of him surrounds you, filling your senses—sharp and smoky, like burning embers, mixed with something inherently Katsuki. You missed this. You missed the way he feels against you, the steady pulse of his heartbeat as it thunders beneath his skin, the way his presence alone fills every corner of the space with warmth.

He lays you gently on the bed, the mattress sinking beneath your weight, and for a moment, he pulls back. The loss of his warmth is brief, but you feel it keenly until he’s tugging his shirt over his head, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, every scar etched into his skin like a map of battles won and lost. His body tells stories—of strength, of endurance, of survival—but all you see is the man who holds you now, the man who wears his heart hidden beneath layers of gruffness and fire.

Your hands move instinctively, tracing the familiar lines of his chest and shoulders. Your fingertips ghost over each scar, each ridge, as if memorizing him all over again. His skin is hot beneath your touch, and your hands curl around the back of his neck, pulling him back to you. His mouth meets yours once more, but this time the kiss is deeper, more urgent, the heat between you building with each passing second.

He welcomes you back like the dawn welcomes the night—slowly, but with an inevitability that feels like fate. His touch is reverent, as if you’re something sacred, something to be cherished. His hands, rough and calloused from years of combat, move with a surprising gentleness as they begin to peel the wet fabric of your dress away from your body. It clings to your skin, soaked through from the rain, but he is patient, his fingers working carefully, unwrapping you from the silk like a gift.

His touch is molten, a slow burn that spreads through you, lighting up every nerve. It’s like molasses—thick, slow, and deliberate—filling the space between you, pulling you deeper into the moment. Katsuki is fire, fierce and untamed, and in his hands, you feel like molten gold, soft and pliable, shaping yourself to the heat of his touch. He moves with purpose, his gaze never leaving yours as he strips away the last barrier between you, leaving you bare beneath him.

When he finally presses his body against yours, skin to skin, it feels like everything you’ve been missing. His warmth envelops you, his presence grounding you in a way that nothing else can. His hands roam over you, tracing every curve, every line, his fingers mapping out the soft planes of your body with a tenderness that contrasts with the fire that burns in his eyes.

There’s something unspoken between you now, something that doesn’t need words. His touch is a silent claim, his fingers skimming over the dips of your waist, the arch of your spine, the softness of your thighs. He knows every inch of you, and yet it feels new all over again, like he’s discovering you for the first time. His hands are steady, but there’s a quiet desperation in the way he holds you, like he’s afraid this moment might slip away if he lets go.

Katsuki’s breath is hot against your skin as he lowers himself down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to the hollow of your throat, each one a promise, a vow. His touch is deliberate, a slow, deliberate worship of your body, as if he’s reminding you of everything you are, everything you mean to him. His hands glide over your hips, his fingers brushing the tender skin of your inner thighs, and you arch into him, your breath hitching as you feel the weight of his love in every movement, every touch.

In his arms, you are safe. In his arms, you are whole.

He is fire and strength, and you are his, claimed by the fierce heat that only he can bring. You are molten gold, shaped and refined in the crucible of his love, and together, you burn brighter than the stars.

His lips press against yours, fueled by a newfound hunger, a kind of urgency that pulls a gasp from your throat, a soft whimper that escapes into the space between you. His hands roam your body with a heated reverence, fingers tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your hips, until one hand dips lower, slipping between your legs. When his finger slides inside you, the sensation is immediate, raw—a sharp intake of breath echoes through him as he feels you clench around him. You’re so warm, so wet, and it sends a shudder down his spine.

You can feel the tremor in him, the restraint, the overwhelming desire bubbling beneath the surface as his forehead presses against yours, breath mingling with yours in the stillness of the room. Another deep pant leaves him as he moves his finger inside you, the motion making you arch into him, your body responding to him as if you were always meant to. But before you can even catch your breath, he pulls away, eyes burning with a fire that ignites something deep inside you, and in one swift motion, he’s pressing his hips against you, rutting the length of his cock against your slick heat.

His body trembles with restraint as he teases you, but soon enough, he can’t hold back. His hand grips your thigh, pulling you closer as he lines himself up, and then he slips inside you—slowly at first, the feeling of him stretching you, filling you, taking you inch by inch until he’s seated fully within you. The world stills, and for a brief moment, it’s just him and you—joined together as one, moving in a rhythm older than time itself.

It feels like floating—weightless, untethered, as if you’re both suspended in the space between worlds. He rolls his hips, a slow, rhythmic tide, and you meet him, each thrust a push and pull, the two of you locked in a quiet dance. It’s like the meeting of the sea and the bioluminescent sands, glowing with heat and light, each touch sparking something deep and primal within you.

You murmur his name, “Katsuki…” your voice breathless and needy, and he responds with a kiss, his lips soft but insistent as they claim yours. He thrusts into you, achingly gentle, his movements precise but tender, each one filled with care. His hips move steadily, his hands cradling your body as though you’re something delicate, something priceless. To him, you’re precious—a masterpiece he’s lucky enough to hold, a delicate thing that he handles with reverence. Every time he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are filled with something deeper than desire—something raw and unspoken, something that ties the two of you together in ways words never could. 

Your hands drift over the hard planes of his chest, tracing the scars that mark his skin—testaments to battles fought and won, to the life he’s lived. Your fingers explore the rough edges of his body, skimming over the taut muscles that ripple beneath his skin, and the stubble along his jaw that scratches lightly against your fingertips. Each touch is full of reverence, because to you, Katsuki isn’t just a work of art; he’s a force of nature. He’s beauty in its rawest form, an Adonis sculpted from lava and tempered by explosions. He’s the embodiment of power, but beneath it, you feel the vulnerability he only ever reveals to you.

Your hands continue to explore his body, memorizing every part of him. You thumb the scars along his shoulders, fingers dancing along the ridges of his abs, and as you do, you marvel at how someone so strong, so unyielding, can be so gentle, so loving. He moves inside you with reverence, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath hot and heavy against your lips. His body presses down against yours, the heat of him sinking into your bones as he thrusts deeper, driving you further into the mattress. His movements are unhurried but deliberate, each one building on the last until the tension in your body coils tight. 

And then it snaps, the pleasure washing over you in waves, pulling you under as you come undone beneath him. His name is the only thing you can manage, whispered over and over like a mantra, like a promise, your hands clutching at him as though he’s the only thing anchoring you to this moment. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, not from sadness but from the overwhelming emotion of it all—of being with him like this, of feeling loved, cherished.

Katsuki follows you into that blissful fall, his own body trembling as he reaches his release. A broken moan escapes him, raw and guttural, his forehead pressing into the crook of your neck as he holds you close, his thrusts slowing to a stop. His breath is warm against your skin as he cups your cheeks, tilting your face toward him for a kiss that’s softer now, full of unspoken words and emotions too heavy to name.

When he pulls back, his forehead resting gently against yours, his eyes flicker open, and you see everything in them—gold, violet, amber, the brightest and most precious colors shimmering in the depths of his gaze. It’s as though he holds the universe within him, and all of it is focused on you. His lips brush against yours, the softest of touches, and he whispers in that deep, gravelly voice, “I love you too.”

The tears you’ve been holding back spill over, but they’re happy tears, and you blink them away as you smile. You press another kiss to his lips, your heart full, knowing that whatever happens next, you’ve found your way back to him. 

And that’s all that matters.

The aftermath is a world all its own—silent, untouched by the chaos that exists beyond the walls of his bedroom. 

Here, in the quiet glow of the moonlight, everything feels simple. The unspoken tension and complicated emotions that usually color the spaces between you seem to fade, leaving only this moment. It’s just you and Katsuki, wrapped up in each other, connected by something deeper than words could ever capture.

You’re cradled against him, his body solid and warm beneath you. His fingers trace slow, languid lines up and down your side, a repetitive, soothing motion that makes you feel grounded. Your own fingers mirror his, lazily drawing circles over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths under your touch. The scent of him—burnt caramel, cloves, sandalwood—wraps around you like a familiar blanket. It’s intoxicating and comforting, a part of him that feels so deeply etched into you now, as permanent as carvings on an ancient tree.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The stillness is sacred. But then, as if the weight of everything unsaid finds its way to your lips, you break the silence. "You know," you whisper, your voice soft as it brushes against the darkness, “today I realized that I deserve to take a break. To stop running away from everything.”

Katsuki’s fingers still for a moment on your skin, but then he leans down slightly, a silent acknowledgment that he’s listening. His hand rests at your hip, grounding you both.

“And… and you do too,” you continue, your voice growing a little stronger, though still fragile. "Your mom’s always on you about taking a vacation, right?" You feel his chest rise sharply beneath your head, his body stiffening just slightly. You take a shaky breath, pushing forward with the thought that’s been growing in your mind. “So… I booked two tickets. In the car. On my way here. To Indonesia. A luxury vacation. The plane leaves tomorrow morning.”

For a second, the world pauses. Katsuki freezes, his hand stopping mid-motion, his entire body going still as if he’s trying to process the words. Slowly, he leans up, propping himself on his elbows, his gaze searching your face with a mix of disbelief and confusion. His fingers find your chin, tipping your face toward him so your eyes meet. “You did what?” His voice is low, rough, not quite angry but edged with a bewilderment that you rarely see from him.

You lean into his touch, your heart swelling at the feel of his calloused fingers against your skin. “I want to go away with you,” you say, your voice steady and honest. “I’m tired, and you’re tired, and I just… I want to be with the man I love. To take time for us. Away from everything.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of his breathing. His chest rises and falls beneath you, each breath coming in measured, as if he’s trying to contain the flood of emotions threatening to break through. His jaw tightens, muscles clenching as he looks at you, something raw and vulnerable flickering in his gaze.

It’s like he can’t believe it. Like he’s struggling to understand that you, here in this moment, are choosing him. That you’ve made this grand, impulsive decision for him—for both of you. His eyes dart away, unable to hold your gaze, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. You watch the way his emotions twist inside him, how they tangle up in his mind like a storm that he can’t quite put into words. You can see it all—the disbelief, the hesitation, the way this feels too good to be real for him.

He doesn’t speak, but the weight of his silence says everything. For someone like Katsuki, someone who’s spent his whole life being told he’s too much, too harsh, too aggressive—it’s hard to let himself be wanted like this. To be chosen. And it breaks your heart a little, knowing that this is how deep his vulnerability runs, how much he’s carried on his own without ever asking for anything.

Gently, you reach up, brushing your thumb along his jaw, guiding his face back toward yours. “You deserve this too, Katsuki,” you whisper. “You deserve to take a break. To just… be with someone who loves you.” Your voice softens, a faint crack in the quiet. “Let me love you.”

His breath stutters at those words, his eyes meeting yours again, this time filled with something deeper—something fragile. His hands tighten on your body, and for a moment, you think he might say something. But then, he just exhales shakily, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

You can feel the tension slowly leaving his body, the weight of his resistance melting away as he allows himself to accept what you’re offering. He doesn’t speak, not yet, but his lips brush against yours in the softest of kisses, and you know he’s heard you.

It’s a moment of surrender, not just to you but to the idea that he can have this—that he’s allowed to be loved like this. And as you both lay there, tangled in each other, you realize that this is the start of something new. 

Something real. 

Something that, for once, feels like it’s yours to keep.

There has to be someone sabotaging Tsukiyo, you think. There’s no way this could happen two Fashion Weeks in a row—the final outfits not fitting again.

It’s déjà vu. Minase looks like she’s on the verge of a breakdown. The tension in the room is thick as assistants, stylists, and tailors dart around like bees in a hive, scrambling to fix the chaos unfolding before them. You’re sitting in the same spot you were last time, watching the chaos but strangely calm, Amanai seated beside you. The familiarity of it all is almost comical.

“This can’t just be bad luck, right? Someone has to be sabotaging the brand,” you muse aloud, watching Amanai get her hair touched up while your own makeup artist carefully layers shimmer onto your eyelids. 

Amanai snorts, tilting her head slightly as the stylist adjusts a stray curl. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But at this point, I’m almost used to it. Minase will just do what she always does. Cut some outfits and make sure the important ones fit. These are summer pieces anyway—more skin showing means less fabric to worry about.”

You chuckle, a tired sound that mingles with the hum of panic around you. The Spring/Summer collection is about fluidity and celestial romance, staying true to Tsukiyo’s ethereal identity. You’re supposed to embody that dreamlike essence, but right now it feels more like a fever dream than a romantic one.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. She always manages to pull something off.”

Like clockwork, Minase’s voice cuts through the frenzy. “We’re cutting some outfits!” she announces, her voice laced with an edge of barely-contained frustration. “We’ll focus on the most important pieces. It’ll shorten the show, but it’s all we can do.” She turns to one of the stylists, rubbing her temples with a groan. “At least The Celestial Ripple Dress still fits,” she mutters under her breath, almost as if she's trying to convince herself that this won't be a complete disaster.

You exhale, grateful that your outfit isn’t one of the ones causing trouble. 

With hair and makeup done, you’re hurried to the fitting room, where the assistants and tailors usher you into your first outfit of the night: The Sakura Veil Jumpsuit. It’s an airy, pastel pink piece, with floral appliqués floating on a sheer overlay. The deep V-neckline glimmers with crystal embellishments, catching the light as you move. You feel the soft iridescent embroidery brush against your skin, mimicking the delicate movement of petals in the wind.

It’s snug, but the tailors make some quick adjustments, and soon enough, you’re able to walk comfortably in it. With one final touch-up to your hair and makeup, you prepare yourself for the runway, the whirlwind of activity swirling around you like an unseen storm.

Amanai and Hanari are already at the curtains, peeking out at the venue. Amanai is dressed in The Moonlit Nomad Ensemble, a layered kimono-inspired blazer in misty gray, paired with fluid silk palazzo trousers that make her look like she’s gliding. Embroidered constellations shimmer faintly on the blazer, cinched at the waist with a metallic indigo belt, adding a regal structure to the otherwise ethereal look. 

Hanari is draped in The Ocean Mirage Dress, a sky-blue gown made of sheer layers of chiffon that ripple like water. The bodice is structured with wave-like 3D elements, flowing seamlessly into a skirt of cascading ruffles edged with micro-crystals that glitter with every movement.

Amanai turns to you, her expression calm despite the chaos. “So? Ready?”

You smile wryly, adjusting your boots. “I think so. Just hope I don’t face-plant. These boots are a little slippery, and I don’t think I can handle the embarrassment of falling in front of everyone.”

Hanari snorts, barely suppressing her laughter. “Just make sure to fall gracefully, then. That’ll still fit the theme, right?”

You all share a brief moment of amusement, but soon enough, it’s time to get serious. The smirks and giggles are quickly replaced with the practiced poise of professionals. 

Time to focus.

One by one, you step onto the runway. Hanari goes first, her gown flowing like liquid, followed by Amanai, whose ensemble glints subtly in the soft lighting. Finally, it’s your turn.

The second your foot touches the glossy floor of the runway, the world condenses into a singular moment. The backstage chaos falls away like a distant memory, and all that remains is the rhythmic click of your boots against the floor and the steady pulse of your own breath. The lights are blinding, but you keep your gaze forward, your body moving with effortless grace. You’ve done this a hundred times, but tonight, there’s something sharper about your focus, something more intense.

The audience fades into the background, their murmurs barely registering in your mind. Each step feels deliberate, every movement controlled. You feel the fabric of your jumpsuit shift against your skin, the weight of the crystals on your chest catching the light as you move. The shimmering appliqués float as if alive, and you become a part of Tsukiyo’s dreamscape—an ethereal figure, moving through a world of starlight and fluid beauty.

As you near the end of the runway, you pause, turning slowly to give the audience a full view of the outfit. You hold your head high, projecting an aura of quiet confidence. 

You turn on your heel, making your way back down the runway with steady, deliberate steps, the sound of your boots echo with each click, vibrating deep in your chest. There’s a practiced grace to your movement, but every step feels charged with a weight that goes beyond the runway. You remind yourself to stay poised, to let the outfit speak through your body, through your calm. The audience’s eyes are still on you, but their murmurs barely pierce your bubble of focus.

When you finally step off the runway, a quiet exhale of relief escapes your lips. You feel your muscles relax, but only slightly. There’s still one more outfit to showcase—the most important one of the night. As you slip into the organized frenzy of backstage, assistants swarm you with quick, precise hands, ushering you toward the fitting area for the final look: The Celestial Ripple Dress.

The jumpsuit slides off with ease, and in its place, the assistants fit the silk of the Celestial Ripple Dress against your skin. The fabric feels like liquid, molding to you as though it’s alive. The iridescence of the material shifts between hues of lavender and warm peach, flickering like the first light of dawn. The architectural collar frames your neck and shoulders, delicate patterns flowing from it like lacework, lending you a regal air. The beaded obi-style belt cinches your waist, and as you glance down, you admire the laser-cut lace at the hem, each detail a testament to the craftsmanship of the design.

It’s a vision, a dream, and as you catch your reflection, you feel like a celestial being. But the reality of what’s about to come slams back into you with the controlled chaos around you—stylists pulling at your hair, makeup artists adding touches of shimmer to your already glowing skin. You still carry a faint tan from your trip to Indonesia two months ago, and the subtle golden tone contrasts beautifully against the soft tones of the dress.

Before you can fully immerse yourself in the calm before the storm, Minase appears at your side, her energy frantic but precise. She adjusts a few last details on the dress, her fingers working quickly.

“Listen,” she starts, her voice low but urgent. “Remember what I told you. Confidence. You need to own this moment. Make sure every single person in that room sees you—sees the dress. And that final pose?” She gives you a meaningful look, her eyes wide with intensity. “It has to be perfect. You need to look like you’ve stepped straight out of the stars. When the lights dim, and you see those white LEDs flicker, that’s your cue. Got it?”

You nod, giving her a reassuring smile despite the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

Minase’s eyes flicker with a mix of tension and trust, and she nods before stepping back to allow the final touch-ups. The makeup artists dab a bit more highlighter on your cheekbones, and the hair stylists smooth out the last few tendrils framing your face, ensuring everything is in place.

As you take a deep breath, steadying yourself, the assistants guide you toward the runway entrance. Your pulse races, but the adrenaline is steadying, sharpening your focus. Around you, the backstage murmurs grow softer, almost muted against the steady beat of your own heart. Several people wish you luck as you pass, but their words blur into the background as your mind narrows into a singular focus: the final walk. Amanai and Hanari catch your eye from the side, their reassuring smiles grounding you in the moment. You return the smile, grateful for their support, but you know that no amount of encouragement can ease the pressure bearing down on you.

The runway lights begin to dim, casting the space into an ethereal shadow. The energy in the room shifts—hushed but charged with anticipation. A shiver of excitement runs through you as the white LED lights flicker, signaling the start of your walk. 

Here we go.

You step onto the runway, and the moment your heels hit the floor, every pair of eyes in the room locks onto you. The dress catches the dim light, shimmering like a pool of liquid starlight, and with each step, the fabric shifts between hues, casting soft reflections across the room. The collar frames your face, a delicate extension of your own elegance, and the beaded belt accentuates your silhouette, guiding every movement with a subtle grace.

The world seems to fall away again. It’s just you, the runway, and the audience. You walk with the kind of confidence Minase drilled into you—a confidence that commands attention, yet exudes an effortless air. The hem of the dress whispers against your legs as you move, the intricate lace catching the softest hints of light with every step.

You hear the faint click of cameras, the subtle murmurs of awe from the audience, but it all blends into the background. In this moment, you are no longer just a model walking the runway; you are the embodiment of Tsukiyo’s celestial dream, a being that belongs to the stars.

As you approach the end of the runway, you pause, turning gracefully to give the audience one last view of the dress. The delicate collar flares slightly as you move, and you hold your final pose—a celestial queen, untouchable yet mesmerizing. You feel the weight of the moment, the pressure, but also the thrill of it. The audience is enraptured, their eyes drinking in every detail, and for a heartbeat, the world seems to hold its breath with you.

And then you turn, gliding back down the runway with the same deliberate grace. The energy in the room hums, and you can feel the attention still on you, as if the entire space is caught in the glow of your presence. 

As you step off the runway, the weight of the night slowly lifts from your shoulders, and you release a deep sigh of relief. The adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins starts to ease, leaving you with a calm satisfaction. “Good job!” echoes from all around you, stylists and assistants offering you quick words of praise as you make your way further backstage. 

Minase rushes toward you, her arms enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug, squeezing tightly. You return the hug, a wide smile spreading across your face. You know you did good tonight—really good. 

The look on Minase’s face is proof of it. 

You’ve done it again. 

The afterparty is in full swing by the time you arrive. 

The warm hum of low conversation and soft jazz mixes with the gentle clink of glasses. Dim lighting washes the room in an intimate glow, as glittering gowns and sleek tuxedos fill the luxurious space. The familiar click of your heels echoes against the polished marble floor, blending into the cadence of the night. Your eyes sweep the crowd, taking in the lavish surroundings, but you're instantly drawn to Amanai and Hanari, who are comfortably seated near the bar, their faces bright with laughter.

You’re dressed in a liquid gold slip dress that shimmers like molten metal with every movement. The delicate spaghetti straps highlight your shoulders, and the draped cowl neckline adds a touch of sensuality, balancing elegance and allure perfectly. The fabric clings to your body just enough to accentuate your figure before pooling subtly at your feet in a way that feels ethereal, otherworldly. Every step you take makes the high-shine metallic fabric catch the soft lighting, creating a fluid, rippling effect as though you’re a goddess dipped in gold. Paired with minimalist strappy heels, you feel the kind of confidence that only comes with wearing something that makes you feel utterly captivating.

But before you can reach Amanai and Hanari, you feel the familiar warmth of a hand sliding against your back. You already know who it is before you even turn around. There’s no mistaking the touch, the possessive yet gentle slide of a palm against your spine, the electric tension that runs through your body when he’s near.

A slow smile curls onto your lips before you even look over your shoulder, and when you finally glance back, your heart gives a small flutter as you meet Katsuki’s gaze. His expression is amused, eyes glinting with that familiar intensity you know so well. The edges of his mouth are curved slightly upward, a rare smirk tugging at his lips as if he’s just as aware of the magnetic pull between the two of you.

“Hi,” you breathe, the word barely a whisper as you turn fully toward him.

Without a second thought, your hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around his strong jaw, guiding his face down to yours. The kiss that follows is soft, slow, and searing. There’s something intoxicating about the way his lips move against yours, the way he holds back, teasing, yet still letting you feel the depth of his affection. When you pull away, you press another quick kiss to his lips, something playful. His eyes are half-lidded, lazy but brimming with affection, a softness in his expression that only you ever get to see.

Katsuki presses a kiss to your thumb, his lips warm against your skin. You wipe the smudge of lip gloss from his lips with your thumb, a soft chuckle escaping you. “You didn’t answer my texts,” you say quietly, your voice carrying a playful edge. “I didn’t know if you’d already arrived or not.”

He lets out a tch, glancing over his shoulder toward the back of the room where his friends are lounging. “Came with Shitty Hair and the others,” he mutters, nodding toward Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Mina. They’re grinning and waving at you like a bunch of excited kids. You smile and wave back, but your focus quickly returns to Katsuki.

“You did good out there,” he says, his voice almost too soft for him, but it’s laced with pride. It sends warmth flooding through your chest.

“You think so?” you ask, searching his face, feeling your heart swell when you see the genuine admiration in his eyes.

He hums, nodding slightly. “Yeah.” His tone is gruff, but the sincerity is clear.

You tease him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “So, I looked good then?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes in that familiar way of his, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. “You always do,” he mutters, his hands slipping down to rest on your hips, his thumb brushing the fabric of your dress. There’s an understated affection in his touch, like he’s always more comfortable showing his feelings through actions rather than words.

Your fingers smooth over the fabric of his blazer, admiring the sharp, tailored fit of his all-black ensemble. He looks effortlessly handsome, dressed in a sleek black blazer with subtle metallic details that add an edge to the classic silhouette. The buttoned-up dress shirt underneath enhances his sharp jawline, and the wide-leg pleated trousers give him a sense of casual elegance. He looks sophisticated, polished, but still undeniably him. 

Your Katsuki.

“Well, you look pretty good yourself,” you say, your smile widening as you take in his appearance, your hands lingering on his chest. “Real handsome.”

He scoffs again, but you catch the faint blush dusting his cheeks, and it makes you smile even more. He always does this—acts tough, but you know how much your words affect him. His fingers flex against your waist, a small tell that he’s pleased.

He still has a faint tan from your trip to Indonesia, and the memory stirs a warm ache in your chest. It's hard to believe it's been two months since that whirlwind adventure. You can still picture the lush rice fields, ancient temples, breathtaking sunsets, traditional villages, and those perfect beaches.

Indonesia had been like a dream. 

It was everything you both needed. The two of you sat down and talked, really talked, about your feelings. Katsuki had opened up in his own gruff way, admitting how he felt after walking out of your apartment that day—how he wasn’t sure if he was just a fling or something more. You shared your own fears, how you’d been too scared to admit to yourself how much he meant to you.

And in that moment, everything felt right. 

The rest of the vacation was a dream—relaxing on the beach, hiking through the jungles, trying local food, and, of course, spending every night tangled in each other’s arms. You hadn’t realized how much you missed his touch, his voice, until you had it again. Every morning and night spent wrapped in him felt like a piece of you had been restored.

And now, you’re dating. Officially; something you hadn’t dared to hope for before the trip, and the thought still makes your heart race sometimes.

“So, I look good now as well?” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes as you step closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body.

Katsuki raises a brow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His thumb brushes over the golden necklace around your neck—the one with the first kanji of his name as the pendant, a gift he gave you after the trip. His other hand remains firm against your back, his touch grounding you.

“‘Course you do,” he mumbles, voice low and steady, filled with that quiet, unspoken affection only he can give.

“Sweet talker,” you tease softly, your lips quirking into a smile as you gently smooth a hand down Katsuki’s chest. His warmth seeps through the fabric of his sleek black blazer, grounding you in this moment of intimacy. 

He raises a brow but doesn’t refute it, letting your words settle with that usual gruffness, though you can see the faint trace of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “Let me say hi to the girls, then I’ll join you at your table, okay?” 

He nods and leans in, pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips, and you can feel the possessiveness in the way he lingers for just a second longer than needed. His lips brush against yours with a tenderness that feels almost out of character, but you know it’s him—Katsuki showing affection in his own way. You pull away and pat his chest, turning to make your way toward Amanai and Hanari at the bar. 

You glide through the room, feeling the eyes on you once more—not from the runway this time, but from the afterparty’s crowd. Your golden slip dress catches the ambient light, shimmering like liquid gold with every step. You’re in your element, but your heart is still wrapped up in Katsuki’s touch, in the way he looks at you like you're the center of his world, even in a room filled with people.

Greeting Amanai and Hanari doesn’t take long—just a quick exchange of hugs and a few words of praise for your performance on the runway. You laugh softly as they gush over your dress, the compliments filling you with warmth, but there’s an eagerness to get back to Katsuki. 

By the time you return to his table, he already has a drink waiting for you, of course. He always pays attention to the details, even when he pretends not to. As you approach, you quickly go around the group, greeting everyone with hugs and smiles. Kirishima gives you a bear hug, Kaminari’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Mina’s wide grin feels like a mirror to your own.

“You looked so cool!” Kaminari practically bounces in his seat, his eyes wide with admiration. 

Sero, his usual laid-back self, nods in approval while toying with an unlit cigarette between his lips. He smirks. “Yeah, you killed it out there. Not surprised, though.”

You settle into your spot beside Katsuki, his arm naturally wrapping around your waist as you lean into his solid frame. His presence is comforting—like a rock in the midst of the swirling energy around you. You smile and shrug modestly. “Thanks, guys. I’m just glad that starting tomorrow, I have a few days off. A mini vacation before the real work starts.”

It feels good to let that thought settle in—time to recharge before diving back into the hectic world of photoshoots and campaigns. You’ve been looking forward to this breather for weeks now.

Kirishima, always the supportive one, grins at you. “Good for you! You should take all the time you need.” His warm, encouraging tone is typical of him, and it only adds to the sense of relief that washes over you.

Mina hums in agreement, her bright eyes twinkling as she takes a sip from her drink. “Yeah, you deserve it. Fashion Week looked intense this year.”

You nod, feeling the tiredness start to creep in, but it’s a good kind of exhaustion—the kind that comes after you’ve given it your all. “It was, but honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s just… fulfilling, you know?”

Katsuki’s hand tightens slightly around your waist at your words, his quiet approval always there even when he doesn’t voice it. His presence beside you, even in these small moments, is grounding. He’s never one to shower you with compliments in public, but his actions—the way he holds you close, the way he’s always there when you need him—speak volumes.

Mina leans in, her smile mischievous. “So, what’s the plan for your mini vacation? You and Bakugou jetting off somewhere?”

Katsuki scoffs, his eyes flicking toward her with mild annoyance, but you catch the subtle way his hand remains on your back, protective and reassuring. You laugh softly. “We haven’t decided yet. Maybe something low-key. Relaxing.”

Kaminari nudges Sero with a grin. “Bet it’ll involve lots of… relaxing.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at the innuendo, while Katsuki gives Kaminari a warning glare that shuts him up quickly. “Keep talkin’, Sparky, and you’ll regret it.”

“Jeez, I’m just kidding, man,” Kaminari holds his hands up in surrender, laughing nervously. 

You smile and lean your head against Katsuki’s shoulder, feeling his body relax under your touch. “Honestly, I’m just excited to spend some time with this guy. We don’t get enough of that these days.”

At that, Katsuki glances down at you, the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “We’ll figure something out.” His voice is low, private, as though the two of you are the only ones in the room.

You smile softly, leaning up to kiss Katsuki’s cheek. The subtle gesture of affection makes his face flush slightly, but he keeps his composure by pretending to sip on his drink, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone. It’s a small, rare show of his vulnerability, the way his cool façade slips just for you. Even though he’s trying to play it off, you can feel the warmth in his posture, the way his arm tenses slightly as if to pull you closer. 

His friends, however, are far from oblivious. Kaminari and Mina are practically glowing with grins as they exchange glances, amused by the way Katsuki tries so hard to act nonchalant. Kirishima's grin is wide and genuine, clearly happy for his best friend. They know this side of him, the softer side he shows only to you, and it’s a sight they cherish—though they’d never dare tease him about it, not seriously anyway.

“I just want somewhere with a beach,” you continue, keeping the conversation flowing as you sip your drink. “Maybe Okinawa. Maybe the Caribbean. I’m still figuring it out with our schedules, too.” Your voice is light, relaxed, but the longing for a break is evident in the way you speak. The whirlwind of fashion shows and shoots, though thrilling, has left you craving some time away—a place where you can unwind and just be.

Katsuki’s thumb absentmindedly strokes your waist as you speak, his subtle way of showing that he’s listening, even if he doesn’t say much.

“But I do know that I need a break,” you laugh softly, the exhaustion creeping into your tone, though it’s balanced with a sense of excitement for whatever comes next. “Something relaxing, somewhere far away from all of this chaos.”

Kaminari nods in understanding, his carefree grin softening into something a bit more thoughtful. “No, I get it. This whole thing is a lot, and you’ve been working hard. You gotta enjoy some time off.” His words are simple, but there’s an appreciation in his tone for the effort you’ve been putting in. Hero work, modeling, it’s all a lot, and sometimes people forget how much goes on behind the scenes.

You nod in agreement, grateful for his words, and the conversation begins to shift. Soon enough, they start talking about their hero work—patrols, training sessions, recent missions. You find yourself listening more than speaking, content to let the conversation flow around you. Your hand rests on Katsuki’s thigh, the soft fabric of his trousers warm under your palm. Absentmindedly, you run your fingers up and down, feeling the solid muscle beneath your touch. It’s a comforting gesture, one that feels natural between the two of you now, and you notice how it subtly relaxes him.

Katsuki, who usually has a sharp edge in his voice when he talks, is different tonight. His gruff tone is still there—because that’s just him—but it’s not harsh. He doesn’t bark his words or throw in as many biting remarks. When he speaks, it’s with measured authority, chiming in with his own thoughts on their hero work without dominating the conversation. He’s relaxed, at ease with you at his side.

You catch snippets of the conversation: Kaminari rambling about a recent mission that went awry, Sero and Mina debating the best techniques for urban rescue, Kirishima enthusiastically talking about new training regimens. Katsuki listens, occasionally grumbling an opinion or a sarcastic comment, but you can feel the quiet respect between him and his friends. They look up to him, even when they joke around, and he, in his own way, values their friendship deeply.

Every now and then, Katsuki’s hand moves to your back, brushing against your skin as if to remind himself that you’re still here, grounding him. It’s a small gesture, but it makes your heart flutter every time.

You gaze at him—really look at him—and it hits you: your boyfriend is like a supernova. His eyes, red but gleaming gold in the light, his messy blonde hair somehow still effortlessly handsome, and the way he fills out that sleek black blazer and those perfectly tailored pants. He looks absolutely irresistible.

And then, an idea starts to take shape in your mind.

You can’t help but grin mischievously, leaning further into Katsuki's side. You press a quick, feather-light kiss against the corner of his jaw when no one's looking, letting your fingers lazily trace patterns on his thigh. Your foot slides up and down along his ankle, a slow, deliberate tease that makes him stiffen slightly, his breath catching in his throat. For just a moment, his usual composure falters, and you feel the way his muscles tense under your touch.

A wicked grin spreads across your face as you lean in close to whisper, your breath warm against his ear, "Meet me in the bathroom from last time."

Katsuki’s sharp inhale is barely audible, but you hear it, and it only makes your grin widen. His reaction is perfect—a mixture of shock and anticipation. He tries to maintain his cool, but you can feel the tension radiating off of him, his grip on the glass in his hand tightening just slightly.

You pull back as if nothing happened, your expression innocent as you stand up. "I’m just heading to the bathroom," you tell the group with a casual smile, and no one bats an eye. But Katsuki knows better. His gaze follows you, smoldering, even as he tries to act unaffected.

With a teasing sway of your hips, you walk away, knowing full well that he's watching. The sounds of the party fade as you make your way to the more secluded part of the venue, the quiet settling around you. There’s a pleasant thrum in your body, the buzz of alcohol adding to the heady anticipation that builds with each step. You move through the hallways with ease, your heart pounding just a bit faster as you turn the familiar corners.

Slipping inside the private bathroom, you take a moment to check your reflection. The liquid gold of your dress shimmers under the soft lighting, clinging perfectly to your curves. You snap a few mirror selfies, the excitement bubbling up inside you, and even take a moment to fix your makeup. 

A few minutes pass before you hear the door creak open behind you. Katsuki slips inside, his presence filling the small room immediately. His face is flushed, his usual scowl more pronounced, but you can tell he’s fighting it—his embarrassment, his frustration at how easily you get to him. It makes you laugh, a soft, teasing sound that fills the space.

"Don't look so grumpy," you tease, turning to face him fully. "You're about to get the best head ever, honey."

His ears turn an even deeper shade of red, the blush spreading across his neck, but all he can manage is a low, unintelligible grumble. He looks almost flustered, which is rare for him, and it only makes you smile wider. Before you can say anything else, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, his body pressing against yours from behind. His breath is warm against your skin as he buries his nose in the crook of your shoulder, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss there.

The warmth of his mouth on your skin sends a shiver down your spine. His lips linger for a moment, soft and deliberate, before he pulls back, resting his head against yours. He’s relaxed now, his earlier tension melting away as his eyes become heavy-lidded, the earlier scowl gone. His hands stay firmly on your waist, holding you close, and you can feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest behind you.

You smile at both of your reflections in the mirror—Katsuki looking uncharacteristically soft, his gaze half-lidded and affectionate, while you’re practically glowing with warmth. It’s moments like this that remind you of why you love him so much. Despite the brash exterior, the sharp words, and the gruff demeanor, he’s always so gentle with you. He’s always so careful, so loving, in a way that makes you feel treasured.

"I love you," you say softly, turning your head to press a kiss on his cheek. He lets you, his lips curving into a faint smile before he tilts his head to capture your lips in a soft, whispery kiss. It’s slow, tender, and full of unspoken affection, his way of saying what he’s never been good at putting into words. 

"Love you too," he mumbles against your lips, the words barely audible but sincere.

The simple exchange fills you with a sense of warmth, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face next. "Now, let’s get down to business," you say, your voice light with amusement.

Katsuki snorts, rolling his eyes, but there’s a trace of a smirk on his lips. "Yeah," he grumbles, his tone playful, "let’s get down to business."

You laugh softly, your heart swelling as you realize—this is your life now. Moments like this, the quiet intimacy, the teasing, the shared affection—it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it. 

With Katsuki, it’s always exciting, always a perfect blend of passion and tenderness. 

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

final notes:

thanks for sticking around and for reading! this was such a fun story to write, and i hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did.

here is my ko-fi :) as some of you may know, i’ve been sick and haven’t been able to work as much, so any support would mean a lot. no pressure, of course!

again, thank you so much, and until next time!