#my hero academy characters

[thebunnednun]

Overworked

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! Reader

Summary: Life is shit and Katsuki finds out you lied to him about taking care of yourself.

And you know what happens when you lie to Katsuki.

I wrote this for my friend @elarakive, she's been going through it so please give her some love y'all.

WC: 16,709

On with the show!!~

“I should’ve become a stripper in Miami.”

You staggered into your apartment, your body and mind exhausted from the endless cycle of school and work. The clock ticked mercilessly as you rushed to grab your work bag and change. Your commute home took about 20 minutes today, and there was barely enough time to catch your breath, let alone eat.

Sighing, you kicked off your shoes quickly before rushing into your small, cluttered room, your shoulders heavy with the weight of responsibility. The relentless cycle of school and work had left you in a mental fog, and the ticking clock seemed to mock your frantic rush. You had barely an hour to spare before your next shift, and the minutes slipped through your fingers like sand.

With trembling hands, you fumbled through your work bag, grabbing the essentials as you hurriedly changed into your work uniform. The sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror was a stark reminder of how far gone you were—dark circles under your eyes, hair a disheveled mess, and a look of defeat that you couldn’t quite hide. 

‘Fuck it, we ball with the consealer today.’

Rushing to the bathroom, you hurriedly adjusted your makeup in the bathroom mirror, the smudged eyeliner and messy foundation reflecting the chaos of your life. Every moment felt like a race against time as you dabbed concealer under your eyes, trying to mask the fatigue that had become your constant companion. 

You had to look good while in class. You have to look good at work so you can make those big bucks to pay for things that ultimately make you feel sick everytime you think about it. Like your rent, the car, the utilities, tuition payments, groceries, laundry supplies, toiletpaper, pads/tampons. Also Tynolonal because your little dehydrated ass kept getting migraines that you ironically didn’t take because you still wanted a working liver. 

In the midst of your chaotic routine, your phone buzzed with a notification: an unexpected double shift for the week. Your heart sank as you read the message. When you finally got a weekend off, it was swallowed up by studying, cleaning, and chores. Sleep was becoming a rare luxury, and your mental fog seemed to thicken with each passing day.

At work, the pressure has been relentless. Your manager's latest demand to pull full shifts this week felt like the last straw. As you stared at your schedule, the weight of it all crashed down on you. You wanted to cry, but you couldn't afford to break down—not with your job hanging in the balance. The only time you had to eat was during your brief lunch break at work, which you barely managed to find time for.

It felt like there was no end to the mounting responsibilities, and the weekend you’d managed to carve out for yourself was swallowed up by endless studying, chores, and barely enough sleep to keep you functional.

In the cramped kitchen, you grabbed a quick bite, your meal consisting of whatever was quickest to prepare. (A literal slice of bread.) The clock continued its relentless ticking, and you knew you were cutting it close. The idea of collapsing into bed, even for just a moment, was a sinfully tempting dream.

As you raced to gather your things, your mind was a jumble of deadlines and schedules. You barely noticed when your cell rang with its familiar “Kiss me through the phone!” ringtone to indicate that your boyfriend was calling. 

‘🥰 🤬 Kat-Suki 🩷🧡   is calling…..’

Heart fluttering, you nearly dropped the concealer wand on your blank uniform polo to snatch your phone off the counter and hit answer. 

“Damn it, what’s going on with you?” Katsuki’s voice cut through the haze of your stress, his usual bravado softened by genuine worry as the video connected. 

“You look like you’re about to drop.”

You paused, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and the intensity of his gaze. “Just… busy,” you managed to say, trying to muster a weak smile. “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing more serious. “This ain’t just busy. You’re running yourself ragged. What the hell are ya doing to yourself?”

With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the phone and tucked it into the front of your bra, the slight pressure reminding you that you needed to hurry. Balancing your phone precariously, you snatched up your work bag and keys, your hands clumsy with the rush. Your fingers were already cold from the constant running around, and you fought the urge to drop everything as you made your way to the car.

The engine roared to life as you slid into the driver’s seat and connected your phone to the Bluetooth system. Katsuki’s voice crackled through the speakers, a gruff but familiar comfort amidst the car noises. 

“Hey, you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you replied, blowing a raspberry into the phone. The sound was a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and you could almost hear Katsuki’s brow raise as he responded.

“You sound outta breath. What’s the deal?”

You chuckled softly, though it was more of a tired exhale. “Just the usual,” you said, your eyes darting between the road and the clock on the dashboard. “Running late, trying to get everything done. It’s been a mess.”

Katsuki’s voice grew more insistent. “Are ya eating properly? Getting enough sleep? You know, ya need to take care of yourself.”

You huffed, trying to focus on the road while keeping up with the conversation. “I’m eating, sleep is a luxury right now. I’m managing, Katsuki.”

His voice softened, though it still carried an edge of concern. “That’s not an answer, you know. You sound like you’re pushing yourself too hard. I don’t want you burning out.”

You adjusted the car’s air conditioning, the cool breeze a slight relief against the heat of your exhaustion. “I’m fine. Just got a lot on my plate. You know how it is.”

“Well, if you say so,” Katsuki said, though the worry in his tone was evident. “Just make sure you’re not running on empty. I want to see you in one piece when I get back.”

The call ended as you pulled into the parking lot of your workplace. You felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside as you grabbed your work bag and keys, the day ahead looming large.

“I’m in the parking lot. So I’ll call you when I get out, okay?”

“ ‘S fine with me.”

“K, bye.”

You blew a smooch into the phone and quickly hung up before you could cry. It’s not like you wanted to lie to Katsuki. Your boyfriend was THE human lie detector and hated liars. But you also didn’t want to worry him while he was out on missions. But alas, those were all thoughts for later as you gently turned off the car and put your game face on before getting out the car and making your way towards the building. 

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

Your shift at work was as rough as you’d anticipated. Your manager was insistent about you picking up extra hours, their voice rising in frustration over minor issues. Customers were grumpy, complaints frequent, and the constant flow of tasks left you feeling drained. 

The office felt like a maze of gray cubicles and muted tones, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. As you sat at your desk, the familiar clutter of technical documents and graphic layouts surrounded you. The scent of strong coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of printer ink. You rubbed your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips as you pushed through another round of proofreading.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and you fumbled to pull it from your drawer, glancing at the screen to see a message from Masha in HR. It was a reminder about the formal complaint you needed to submit to get your overdue salary processed. You frowned, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

“Another thing to deal with,” you muttered, tapping out a quick response before setting the phone aside. Your fingers flew over the keyboard, drafting the formal complaint with a precision that belied your growing exhaustion. Every keystroke felt like an effort, each sentence a struggle to convey the frustration and urgency of your situation.

The clock ticked slowly, its rhythmic ticking amplifying the silence of the office as colleagues murmured and typed away in their own bubbles. You glanced at the pile of papers on your desk—technical documents, project briefs, and some rough sketches for graphics that you’d been tasked with. The contrast between your university days, filled with creative media projects and dynamic video production, and this monotonous office job was striking. 

You missed the excitement of storytelling and visual creation, but here you were, grinding away for the paycheck that barely seemed worth the effort right now.

Rent was due next week, and the thought of it gnawed at your mind. You tapped your pen nervously against the desk, trying to suppress the mounting anxiety. Your minimal savings were earmarked for tuition, and borrowing money from anyone, let alone Katsuki, was not an option you wanted to consider. The last thing you needed was for him to find out and make a fuss about it, turning your personal financial troubles into a point of contention.

As you took a deep breath and hit ‘send’ on the formal complaint, the stress of the past few weeks seemed to coalesce into a single, throbbing headache. Your hands were trembling slightly as you reached for the small, lukewarm cup of coffee on your desk, the caffeine offering a temporary, hollow comfort.

“Hey, can you cover this layout for me?” your colleague, Jenna, asked as she leaned over your cubicle wall. Her voice was chipper, a sharp contrast to the mental fog you were drowning in.

“Sure,” you said, forcing a smile as you accepted the additional task. Your mind drifted to the weekend, a distant hope of relaxation and a momentary escape from the whirlwind of deadlines and obligations. But even that felt out of reach as you buried yourself in work, hoping that somewhere amidst the chaos, a solution would present itself.

The minutes stretched into hours, the ticking of the clock a relentless reminder of how quickly time was slipping away. As the workday dragged on, your thoughts constantly circled back to your financial situation and how you might manage to cover rent without dipping into your savings or burdening anyone else. The weight of it all felt almost unbearable, and you silently wished for a moment of reprieve.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

Finally, with mercy, your shift finally ended, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by exhaustion. You shuffled out of the office, your steps heavy and laden with fatigue.

The breakroom coffee you’d chugged was doing its best to keep you awake, but the jolt of caffeine did little to ease the sleepy buzz that had settled over you.

Your drive home was a blur, punctuated only by the occasional beep of your car’s dashboard and the monotonous hum of the engine. When you finally pulled into your parking spot, a sense of dread washed over you as you fished out your phone to check the latest update on your pay. The notification confirmed what you feared: your salary wouldn’t be processed for another week.

A gasp of frustration and disbelief escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space of your car. You slammed your hands on the steering wheel, barely containing the urge to scream. The crushing weight of bills, looming deadlines, and the crushing reality of your financial situation finally broke through your walls of composure. Tears sprang to your eyes, spilling over as you let the frustration and sadness flow freely.

The emotional release was almost too much to bear, and as the tears flowed, the inside of your car’s windows fogged up, the steamy haze blurring your vision. You cracked the windows slightly, hoping to let some of the oppressive heat and steam escape. 

As the cool air started to seep in, you caught sight of Katsuki’s footprints on your windshield—evidence of the time he’d spent with his dogs on your dashboard, walking them around while you were driving. The sight of his footprint, a tangible reminder of his absence, made your heart ache even more.

The memory of him removing his footing while you had been driving around, convinced you’d seen a turtle on the side of the road, flashed through your mind.

Turns out it was a really moldy round rock and while you wanted to keep it, Katsuki made you leave the so-called “turtle,” which he’d dismissed as a weird rock, insisting it might be cursed and, “I don’t fuck with no spooky shit.” The thought of his spiky but playful protective nature contrasted sharply with the weight of your current situation.

Your mascara had bled and smeared, leaving dark streaks on your cheeks. You fumbled for tissues in the glove compartment—another thoughtful gift from Katsuki. With shaking hands, you dabbed at your face, trying to clean up the smudged makeup and regain some semblance of composure. 

But fuck the tissues because you wanted Katuski to wipe your tears, not Puffs with lotion. 

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your work bag and keys from the passenger seat. Despite the fact that you had no classes tomorrow—a silver lining provided by Mrs. Yamada’s decision to cancel due to the pleasant weather—you felt an emotional heaviness. You forced yourself to get out of the car, each step toward the building feeling like a mile.

The elevator ride up to your floor was a quiet, solitary journey. You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing thoughts. When the elevator doors finally opened, you walked down the hallway with heavy steps, each footfall echoing your exhaustion and frustration.

You reached your door and, with a tired sigh, unlocked it and stepped inside. The familiar, quiet space of your apartment was both a refuge and a reminder of everything you were trying to manage. The world outside was still bustling, but here, in this small sanctuary, you could finally let down your guard.

Letting out another deep breath as you took in the comforting but humble surroundings. Your mind wandered to the weekend ahead, hoping for some respite and relaxation despite everything else. For now, you allowed yourself a moment to just be, to acknowledge the fucked up situation you were in and space out before you would have to be an active adult again. 

You slid down against the door, exhaustion making every movement feel labored. The cool, hard floor felt oddly comforting against your back as you contemplated the idea of slipping off your shoes and socks and crawling straight into bed. Your tired eyes were barely open when an unexpected, tantalizing scent wafted through the air, making you blink in confusion.

The smell was warm and inviting, reminiscent of the cozy autumn walks you take with Katsuki. The memory of him lifting you onto his shoulders while you collected pinecones, playfully biting your ankles when you took “too long” to pick out your favorites, made you smile through your tears. The scent brought a fleeting sense of comfort, but the question of who had been in your apartment and left it smelling so fresh and pleasant nagged at the back of your mind.

You pushed yourself up, the weariness making your movements slow and deliberate. As you wandered further into your apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of disbelief. Your living space, which had been cluttered and messy, was now impeccably clean, as if it had been professionally cleaned. The familiar scent of pine and a hint of something else filled the air, wrapping around you like a warm, fragrant embrace.

Shaking off the disorientation, you followed the delicious aroma to the kitchen. Your eyes widened as you saw a pot of rice and another pot of rich, spicy beef and vegetable stew cooling on the stove. The sight was almost surreal—your kitchen, which had been a chaotic mess just hours before, was now a haven of culinary comfort. The thought of someone cooking for you, despite your exhaustion, brought a mix of relief and confusion.

‘What the fuck?!’

You blinked once, twice, harshly, trying to process the scene before you. With a mixture of curiosity and wariness, you padded softly back to the living room, hoping to make sense of the situation. The only light on was the soft glow of the lamp in the bathroom, casting a warm, clean light across the hallway and into your living room. The air was still, save for the faint sound of shuffling coming from your bedroom.

Heart racing, you moved toward the sound, each step slow and cautious. The clean scent from the bathroom lingered, and you couldn’t help but notice how fresh and tidy it now seemed. You glanced back at the living room, which, in contrast to your earlier mess, now looked immaculate and inviting.

Heart pounding, you crept down the hallway, each step slow and deliberate. The freshly cleaned scent in the air did nothing to ease your anxiety. The apartment was spotless—too spotless. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Maybe Michael had come back early and done this as a surprise? Or maybe Shoto, Izuku, or Jirou had somehow managed to sneak in, tidy everything, and leave without telling you. 

After all, only Michael, Kirishima, and Shoto or Izuku had keys to your place in case of emergencies.

But Katsuki? He was out of state. He wouldn’t be back for a while, and even if he had sent one of those cleaning services, they were always in and out in less than 30 minutes. 

This... this wasn’t right.

Your gaze darted toward the door. The shuffling sound from your bedroom had stopped. Panic began to settle in, a rising tension that had you frozen on the spot. You considered calling for help, but your phone was still on the floor by your purse, forgotten in the rush of trying to figure out what was happening. You didn’t want to lose the element of surprise.

With a nervous breath, you reached for the flower vase sitting on the narrow hallway table. The roses inside were fresh, their deep crimson petals just beginning to open up. You mentally apologized to them as you dumped the flowers onto the floor, water splashing around the vase. Your hands moved swiftly, reaching inside for the TTI Glock 34 hidden beneath the stems. The cold metal felt heavier than usual in your hand, but you weren’t about to hesitate. 

You weren’t going to die in your own apartment—not like this.

Holding your breath, you stalked closer to the bathroom. You could hear the faint echo of your heart beating in your ears. Quietly, with practiced precision, you closed the door behind you without letting it click, trapping the scent of cleanliness inside. There was no turning back now. The apartment had become unfamiliar, and whoever or whatever was in your room needed to be dealt with.

You crept toward the bedroom, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you got closer. The shifting sounds had stopped. Whoever it was, they were still inside. You crouched, gun in hand, every muscle tensed as you approached the door. Then, without warning, the door to your bedroom swung open with a loud

"BAM!"

The sound reverberated through the walls as darkness loomed before you. Instinct took over.

You fired two quick shots into the void, the deafening bangs ringing in your ears. The muzzle flashes lit up the shadows, revealing nothing but an empty room. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stared into the stillness. 

Silence.

"Fuck this!" you muttered under your breath, adrenaline kicking into high gear.

Without thinking twice, you bolted down the hallway. Your feet were heavy, thudding against the carpet as you ran, and the door to your apartment swung open behind you. You burst into the dimly lit hallway, the dingy orange carpet and faded yellow lighting never looking so welcoming. The familiar smell of old apartments and chipped paint wrapped around you as you sprinted toward the elevator.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your legs pumping as fast as they could. Most of your neighbors were either still at work or too old to have heard the gunshots, but there was no way you were sticking around to find out. You slapped the elevator button, glancing nervously back down the hallway.

You stood in front of the doors waiting, breathless and confused, waiting for the sound of footsteps or the telltale signs of someone chasing after you. 

But… nothing. 

The air was still, almost too still, and when you turned around, your heart pounding in your throat, you saw nothing. No one was following you. No shadowy figure, no intruder, no ominous movement at all. 

Just you.

That rush of fear was starting to ebb away, replaced by an unsettling new sensation—doubt. Did you get them? The thought made your heart skip, but worse than that, another horrifying possibility crept in: 

Did you kill someone?

Your stomach dropped as if you'd just fallen from a cliff. The idea of it—of accidentally shooting someone, maybe even someone who had no intention of hurting you—was almost too much to bear.

You pressed a shaky hand against the wall, your mind racing.

What would happen if it was true? What if you had killed someone in a panic? Your knees felt weak, and the edges of your vision blurred with panic.

‘What would happen to me? What would happen to Katsuki when they found out his girlfriend had killed someone? The girlfriend of the Number 2 Pro Hero, a murderer?’

‘What’s Katsuki gonna do?’

The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through you. You wanted to throw up right there in the hallway, but your stomach was so empty that all you could do was dry swallow, your mouth tasting like metal and dread. ‘What would the courts say? Would I go to jail? What would happen to Katsuki's career?’ 

Your thoughts spiraled, knotting together into an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest.

You swallowed hard, trying to force the rising panic back down. The hallway around you blurred for a second, the dim, dingy orange carpet now looking stained—like it was soaked in blood. You blinked hard, shaking your head. 

It was just the light, just your mind playing tricks on you. You forced yourself to look away from the carpet, your eyes trailing back to your apartment door. It was still ajar, spilling the warm, pale hallway light into the void of your dark apartment. The contrast was jarring—the safe, slightly worn familiarity of the hallway outside clashing with the pitch-black uncertainty inside your home.

Your home.

You pressed your back against the wall, trying to steady yourself. ‘You couldn’t leave this unfinished. If you did accidentally kill someone, you’d have to take responsibility. You had to know.’ And if it was an intruder, then, well... that was another layer of mess you'd have to deal with.

But God, you were so done.

The exhaustion from the double shifts, the lack of sleep, the unpaid bills—it all weighed you down, made your legs feel like lead as you slowly moved forward. Maybe that's why you found yourself inching toward your open door instead of running away.

Maybe that's why, instead of thinking clearly, you fumbled with your purse, your fingers shaking as you dug through it to find your phone. Instead of flicking on the light switch by the door, you opened the flashlight app, shining its weak beam into the suffocating darkness of your apartment.

The soft glow from your phone barely penetrated the void, but it was enough to make out familiar shapes—the edge of your coffee table, the corner of the couch, the faint outline of your kitchen down the hall. It almost looked normal. Almost. But something was wrong. You could feel it in your bones.

And then you felt it.

Before you could even process what was happening, something hot and large clamped down around your arm. A flash of pure, raw panic shot through you, freezing your blood in your veins. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you barely had time to let out a sharp, breathless gasp before another hand—bigger, stronger—covered your mouth, smothering any scream you could’ve made.

The force of it drove you backward, your body colliding with the floor as the figure pulled you into the apartment. The scent of clean linen and something warmer filled your senses, overpowering everything else. You thrashed instinctively, your pulse roaring in your ears, but the grip on you didn’t falter. 

The hand around your mouth tightened, silencing you even as you tried to cry out.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t see anything except the faint glow of your phone, now flickering as it dropped from your hands onto the floor. Your gun—’Where the hell was your gun?!’

It was smacked outta your hand when the figure grabbed you, and now, it was probably somewhere in the apartment, out of reach.

“Stop fuckin’ squirming,” a low voice growled against your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine.

The voice was familiar—so achingly familiar that your panic began to wane just enough for recognition to slip through the fog of fear. The heat of his breath, the roughness of his palm, the way his body radiated warmth even through the tension. You blinked hard, gasping into the hand that covered your mouth, your mind racing to catch up.

“Katsuki?” Your voice was muffled, barely audible against his skin.

His grip loosened a fraction, his palm sliding off your mouth just enough for you to catch a real breath. You gasped for air, your chest heaving as you tried to process everything. 

The fear, the relief, the utter confusion.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice rough and low. He didn’t release you right away, keeping you firmly against him, his hot breath still brushing against your ear. "The hell were you thinking? Firing like that in the dark? You could’ve fuckin’ shot me!"

You slumped against him, half in shock, half in frustration. Your heart was still pounding, your limbs still trembling, but the flood of relief that came with recognizing his voice nearly brought you to tears. He was here. He wasn’t supposed to be, but he was.

“I didn’t know it was you,” you rasped, your voice shaky as you fought to steady your breathing. “Why the hell are you sneaking around my apartment?! I thought I was gonna die!”

Katsuki’s deadpan expression barely shifted as he lifted you up and unceremoniously dropped you onto the sofa. The cushions sighed under your weight, but before you could even adjust yourself, he was already stalking across the room.

His broad back was tense, and the muscles of his arms flexed beneath his shirt as he moved with precision, a wolf-like focus in the way he carried himself.

"Okay, let’s start with this," he began, his tone rough and low, his eyes flickering briefly over his shoulder at you. “I'm glad you can defend yourself. If I was some regular asshole, I'd be dead for sure.”

You blinked at him, still in disbelief, trying to process everything that had just happened. Your heart was still pounding, your body still reeling from the shock, and yet here he was, as calm as ever. He flipped on the hallway light with a casual flick, casting a soft glow over the apartment.

“Stay,” he huffed, his voice gruff, as if you were some unruly puppy he needed to wrangle.

He moved toward the dining area, and you turned your head to follow his movements. You watched as his calloused fingers picked up your steel piece—your gun—from where it had fallen, handling it with ease.

There was no hesitation in the way he moved, no sign of the earlier chaos as he handled the weapon. It was like he had done this a thousand times before, like the situation was perfectly normal for him.

You craned your neck a little more, catching sight of him as he knelt to collect the discarded roses from the hallway floor. He carefully placed your gun back into the vase where you had originally stashed it, as if putting everything back in its proper order, like nothing had happened. His shadow moved fluidly across the walls as he did so, and the tension in the air didn’t lessen—if anything, it deepened.

And then, he turned back toward you, his face unreadable, but those vermillion eyes—God, those eyes—locked onto yours like a predator zeroing in on its prey. He didn’t say a word, not yet, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath hitch.

The soft glow of the hallway light outlined his figure, casting sharp shadows on his jawline, the dim illumination making him look both softer and somehow more dangerous at the same time.

He stalked back over to you, each step deliberate, never once breaking eye contact. His eyes bored into yours, and you felt as though he could see through every layer of your confusion, your fear, and your relief. You tried to smile, to break the tension, but it felt weak under his unrelenting stare.

Katsuki finally stopped in front of you, his steps coming to a halt as he sat down on the coffee table across from you. The wood creaked slightly under his weight, but he didn’t seem to care. He spread his legs a little, bracing his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly, his powerful body now looming closer, radiating heat and energy.

He was dressed down tonight—just a black skull t-shirt that clung to his frame and a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

Casual, relaxed, almost like he had been home for a quiet night in. Yet here he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. He had this way of making everything else disappear when he focused on you like that, making your breath catch in your throat.

He sat there, silent, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely between them. His back was slightly hunched as he leaned forward, making him look even more intense. His face was unreadable, and yet there was an edge to it—something simmering just below the surface, just beneath those sharp, vermillion eyes that hadn’t left yours for a second.

You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa under the weight of his gaze. “Uh, hey babe?” you said, your voice weak, barely above a whisper. You tried to giggle, to play it off like you weren’t utterly rattled, but the sound died awkwardly in your throat.

Katsuki didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on you, not even a flicker of amusement crossing his face. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight, the muscle there clenching slightly. 

He wasn’t buying it.

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or do next. The silence between you stretched out, heavy and oppressive, like a thick fog settling in the room. The only sound was the faint hum of the hallway light and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

For what felt like an eternity, you just sat there—him staring at you like you’d just committed the ultimate offense, and you shrinking under the weight of it. His gaze didn’t waver, not even once, and you could feel the intensity of his thoughts even if he wasn’t saying a word.

Your hands fidgeted in your lap, fingers twisting together as the nerves bubbled up inside you. 

“Katsuki, I—” you started, but the words trailed off, your voice faltering under the scrutiny.

Katuski considers you carefully for a moment, just a moment. Before slowly rising from his spot on the coffee table and making his way to the kitchen, flicking the light on, and you hear the opening of your cabinets and your favorite mug being taken out before your tap is run. Katsuki returns, makes his way to your dining room to also turn on the lights and then to your front door that he locks before also turning on the lights. 

Then, he finally makes his way back to you and hands you the mug that you accept with both hands and he doesn’t let go until you take three small sips at first and he sets himself back down in front of you. It’s not until your fifth sip that you realize he turned on all the lights so you could feel exposed and vulnerable under his stare. You almost choke on that, but hold it down in favor of meeting your boyfriend's gaze again. 

He finally spoke, his voice low and measured, but there was a tightness there, like he was barely holding back. “What the fuck was that, huh?” His eyes narrowed slightly, the air around him crackling with restrained emotion. “You really think lying to me was a good idea?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Lying? You blinked, confusion mixing with the remnants of panic, but you didn’t get a chance to speak before Katsuki leaned in closer, his face now hovering just inches from yours. The intensity of his gaze didn’t falter, those sharp vermillion eyes pinning you in place.

“Let’s not pretend,” he said, his voice dripping with a strange, unsettling calm. “You think I didn’t notice? That I couldn’t tell?” His lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing playful about it. The way his eyes glinted, the way the tension in his jaw flexed—it was something far more dangerous.

“When did—” you started, but Katsuki cut you off, his tone sharp as a blade.

“When did I get back?” he asked, already knowing where your mind had gone. His smile widened, and the expression twisted something deep in your gut. His canines flashed, sharp and predatory, as the smirk grew into something almost menacing. “Right after you hung up the phone with me.”

Your stomach dropped. He heard? You should have known better. The way you’d tried to sound fine, the excuses you made about not being able to eat, the way your voice had shaken when you’d reassured him you were ‘doing great’—he hadn’t bought any of it. He’d come home right early, and he’d known.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued, “And you wanna know what I saw the second I walked in? You. Not taking care of yourself.” 

“Again.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your mind raced back to everything over the last few days—the lack of sleep, barely eating, pushing yourself to the point of collapse. You thought you could hide it. But Katsuki wasn’t fooled. He never was.

“You lied to me,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “Told me you were fine, that you were ‘handling things.’” He chuckled darkly, his smile stretching wider.

“Look at you. Does this look like ‘fine’ to you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, as the weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to form an excuse, something to explain yourself, but the words wouldn’t come.

Katsuki’s gaze hardened, and he leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as if he were preparing for the final verdict.

“I trusted you to take care of yourself while I was gone, and what do you do? You starve yourself. You don’t sleep. You get so out of it you nearly put a bullet through your own damn apartment. All while telling me everything’s ‘great.’”

You could hear the frustration lacing his words now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But there was something else—something deeper, more raw, hiding in the way his voice shook ever so slightly when he said the word trusted.

"I tried—" you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but it felt so hollow even to your own ears. Katsuki wasn’t having it.

“Tried?” His voice cracked with a dangerous laugh, one that sent chills down your spine. “You tried? No, you didn’t ‘try.’ You hid from me. You lied because you thought you could handle everything on your own.”

He leaned forward again, the smile never fading, but this time it was sharper, darker, the full display of his teeth and sharp canines making him look almost feral. His red eyes widened slightly as he stared down at you, and there was an unsettling gleam in them now, something wild and untamed.

“But you can’t, can you?” he continued, his voice almost a mockery of sweetness. “You can’t take care of yourself. So guess what?” He leaned in close, so close you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. “I’m doing it for you.”

Your heart lurched in your chest as his words sank in. There was something terrifying about the calmness in his tone, the way he spoke as if it was a simple fact, something decided without question.

“You’re not eating? I’ll make sure you eat. You’re not sleeping? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that too.” His smile grew wider, more sinister, as if he were enjoying the thought of it. His sharp canines glinted under the light, and it felt like you were staring into the eyes of a predator.

The intensity of his gaze was suffocating, his red eyes burning into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His presence was overwhelming, his words wrapping around you like chains, trapping you in the reality of what was happening.

Katsuki’s voice dropped to a whisper, but it was no less terrifying. “From now on, you don’t get to make that call. You don’t get to decide when you’re ‘fine’ or when you need help. I do.”

Your throat tightened as you tried to find the right words, the right explanation, but there was nothing that would make this better. You had lied. You had pushed yourself too far, and now you were facing the consequences. But Katsuki wasn’t just angry. He was something else—something scarier.

He reached out, cupping your face gently with one large, calloused hand, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. But the look in his eyes, the smile still pulling at his lips, made the gesture feel anything but comforting. He hooks his other palm on the underside of your calve and squeezes it twice. 

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered, his voice soft but deadly serious. “Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Understand?” Katsuki dips his face lower, closer to yours as his pupils bore into your own.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your chest tight with fear and guilt. Katsuki’s thumb traced your jawline, his touch deceptively gentle, but the look in his eyes was unrelenting.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his smile finally fading, replaced with that hard, determined expression you knew all too well. He stood up slowly, towering over you, and as he did, the weight of his presence pressed down on you like a storm.

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

And you knew there was no fighting him. Not when he was like this.

Katsuki stood over you, eyes narrowing slightly as he reached for the mug in your hand. His fingers brushed yours, and before you could protest, he gently tugged it from your grasp, tilting the cup toward your lips. The cold refreshing liquid hit your tongue, and you blinked in surprise, forced to drink it all at his pace. His gaze was steady, unyielding, as if this small act of making sure you finished the drink was a matter of life and death. 

There was no room for resistance.

"All of it," he muttered, and you obeyed, the warmth of the drink doing little to soothe the knot of nerves twisting in your stomach.

Once you drained the last of the mug, Katsuki set it aside with a soft clink and guided you to your feet. His grip was firm but not rough, the warmth of his palm grounding you as he led you through the bright apartment.

The light filtering through the bulbs was harsh compared to the dark tension that had settled between you two. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed, your mind still trying to process everything that had just happened.

When he brought you to the bathroom, you turned to shoo him out. “I can handle this part,” you muttered, half-heartedly trying to get some semblance of control back. But Katsuki remained solid as a wall, unmoving, his eyes fixed on you. One eyebrow arched in that sharp, expectant way of his, and you knew you had no choice.

With a resigned sigh, you began stripping down, feeling the weight of his gaze linger, even though he wasn't watching you like that. His focus was intense, like he was making sure you didn’t skip a single step.

Katsuki stepped forward and locked the door behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the small, tiled space. The air between you thickened as he moved to turn on the water in your freshly cleaned shower, the spray sputtering to life.

Steam rose, filling the room, curling into the corners like a mist creeping through your thoughts. He tested the water with his hand, adjusting the temperature before turning to you, his eyes softer now, but no less serious.

“Get in,” he said, the command laced with care. His hand hovered near your elbow, ready to steady you as you stepped into the tub. You felt small under his watchful eye, but also cared for in a way that made your throat tighten.

Once you were safely under the warm spray, Katsuki turned away slightly, giving you some space, though he stayed close. He wasn’t leaving. Not until he was satisfied. You stood there for a moment, feeling the water cascade over your body, washing away the grime and exhaustion that clung to your skin.

You knew you had about five minutes before he turned back around, so you hurried, scrubbing yourself down with more effort than usual.

It wasn’t long before he came back, his eyes flicking over you with a critical, almost soft look. Satisfied with your effort, Katsuki reached for the showerhead and rinsed you off himself, his hands guiding the water over your skin. He was gentle, methodical, like he was handling something precious. 

And in his eyes, that’s exactly what you are.

After rinsing you clean, Katsuki gestured for you to sit down in the tub. The air was thick with the scent of soap and steam, but beneath it all was the tension that neither of you had fully addressed. As you lowered yourself into the bubbles that Katsuki had added, you felt your face flush at the intimacy of it all.

“Ya know,” he began, his voice rough but laced with something deeper, “when I got home early, I was happy.”

You looked up at him, blinking away the water droplets clinging to your lashes. His back was to you as he rummaged through the cabinet, but there was a weight in his words that made your chest tighten. Happy? You hadn’t expected that, not after the way things had spiraled today.

“Kirishima already went up to surprise your little friend,” he continued, his voice casual but still laced with that undeniable edge of possessiveness.

He found a bottle of your favorite bath oil and added a few drops to the water, the subtle scent filling the room. Katsuki always had a way of paying attention to details like that. Things you didn’t even think he noticed.

“So it was just gonna be me and you this weekend. Me and my girlfriend.”

The way he said my girlfriend made your pulse quicken. There was something about the way Katsuki spoke when it came to you, the way he claimed the words, made them his own. It was possessive, sure, but not in the suffocating way.

It was like he was reminding you that you were his priority, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself.

He finally turned back to you, kneeling by the tub so that his eyes were level with yours. The light in the room flickered, casting shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more intense. His vermilion eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.

“So it was gonna be me and you,” he repeated, his voice quieter now but no less serious. “But instead, I come home to find you falling apart.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing over the wet strands of your hair, pushing them back from your face. The gesture was soft, but there was a weight behind it.

“What the hell, babe? You can’t even take care of yourself while I’m gone?”

You opened your mouth to respond, to explain, but he cut you off with a small shake of his head.

Katsuki’s hands were firm but gentle as he lathered your hair with shampoo, his fingers working through your scalp in deep, circular motions.

The pressure was so perfect that your eyes fluttered shut, a low hum escaping your throat as your body relaxed into the bath. It was embarrassing how good it felt, how every stroke of his fingers seemed to melt away the exhaustion clinging to your bones.

You could barely keep your head up, and just as your eyes threatened to roll back in your head, Katsuki splashed water at your face, jolting you back to reality.

“Oi, don’t go passing out on me just yet,” he muttered, though there was a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He shifted behind you, grabbing the showerhead to rinse out the soap, the warm water cascading down your back as he continued his work. The rhythmic sound of water filled the space, a stark contrast to the gruffness in his voice.

“You’re lucky I didn’t pounce on your ass the second you walked back into the apartment, lookin’ all messed up like that,” Katsuki grumbled, his hands sliding down your shoulders to scrub your back.

His fingers traced the curve of your spine, his touch lingering as he was refamiliarizing himself with every dip and curve. 

“You think I like seein’ you like this? All run-down and weak? You’ve got more in you than this.”

Katsuki paused, his hand hovering over your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of his stare even though you weren’t looking at him. “I just want you to be healthy. To take care of yourself the way I know you can.”

His hand moved down, scrubbing your arms with the washcloth, his roughness tempered by the care behind every stroke. “I get it, life’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but you don’t get to fall apart like this. Not when I’m around to make sure you’re good.”

His words were gruff, but there was something softer beneath the surface—a quiet worry that he’d never fully admit to. Katsuki rinsed you off, the soap sliding down your body as he worked, his attention never wavering.

As he moved to scrub your legs, his touch slowed for just a moment.

“You’re tough,” he muttered, almost to himself, his hand brushing along the curve of your thigh. “But that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta do everything on your own. I’m here, alright?”

He rinsed you one last time, his hand lingering at the small of your back as if anchoring you to the moment.

“And don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easy,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You owe me for not jumping your ass the second I saw you. But first, we’re gonna get you back to being you again.”

Your heart pounded, a mix of guilt and gratitude swirling in your chest. Katsuki wasn’t asking for permission. He was telling you. And part of you was relieved that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.

“No excuses,” he muttered, his fingers trailing down to tilt your chin up so you couldn’t look away. His thumb brushed against your lips, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t get to lie to me about this anymore.”

His gaze softened, but the intensity of his words remained. “I’m gonna make sure you’re alright. Even if that means watching over you every damn second.”

You nodded, the movement small, but Katsuki saw it. His hand dropped from your chin, and he leaned back, standing up to his full height as he grabbed a towel from the rack.

“Good,” he said, his voice softer now. He draped the towel over his shoulder and held out his hand to help you out of the tub. The air was cool against your skin as you stepped out the tub, his touch lingering on your shoulders as he pulled you close. The weight of the day seemed to melt away in that moment, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet.

Katsuki is rough around the edges, sure. But when it came to you, there was no doubt—he’d take care of you, fuck everyone else.

Katsuki wrapped the fluffy towel around your body, still warm and soft from the dryer. You nuzzled into it, relishing the feeling of warmth against your skin, the scent of fresh laundry lingering in the air. His chuckle was low, almost rumbling through his chest as he set you gently on the bath mat.

"Wait here," he said, his voice firm yet filled with that protective edge you’d grown so used to. You sat obediently, the towel cocooning you in its comforting warmth as Katsuki disappeared briefly.

When he returned, he carried a chair from the dinning and placed it in front of the bathroom mirror. He motioned for you to sit, and you did so without protest. The exhaustion still clung to you, but the care he was giving made it easier to just lean into his routine. You felt his fingers work through your damp hair with gentle precision as he sectioned it off to braid. 

The motions were firm but soft, practiced as if he had done this countless times before. You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax under his touch as he skillfully wove your hair into two simple, neat braids.

“There,” he murmured, wrapping a towel around the ends to help them dry. “That should do for now.” He gave you a brief once-over, satisfied with his work.

Next, Katsuki grabbed a toothbrush and came back toward you, squeezing a dollop of toothpaste onto it. Before you could protest or joke, he pressed the brush gently against your lips, and you reluctantly opened your mouth.

As he began brushing, your lips curled in a playful pout, and you made an attempt to nip his fingers with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Katsuki’s reaction was immediate, pulling back just slightly before leaning in close, his face inches from yours, eyes glinting with amusement.

“You really want me to bite you, huh?” he teased, voice low as his breath brushed your skin. You pouted but couldn’t stop the smile from creeping in. Slowly, you nodded, biting your lower lip. He smirked at your response, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder, just enough pressure to make you shiver.

Your breath hitched as you squeezed him, wrapping your arms around his waist, but the sound that almost escaped you was quickly stifled as you pulled back, burying your face into the towel.

Katsuki chuckled darkly, clearly pleased with himself. "Behave," he muttered, finishing with your teeth. He handed you the mouthwash next. “Rinse,” he instructed, his eyes following your every move. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out, feeling oddly refreshed.

Once that was done, he moved on to the next part of his routine—your skincare. His touch was methodical as he washed your face, scrubbing gently and making sure every inch of your skin was properly cared for.

You could feel the cool cleanser on your cheeks as he worked, and there was something oddly intimate about the way he treated each step like it was second nature.

“No more mascara,” Katsuki said, narrowing his eyes as he gently dabbed a soft towel against your skin. “I want you to keep those damn lashes.”

You giggled at his comment, catching his eye in the mirror. “Hitoshi says we’re the only ones who make insomnia look sexy,” you teased. 

“Don’t take compliments from a guy who needs a bag check for his fuckin’ eyes.”

You snorted, while Katsuki was rolling his eyes. “That idiot looked like death last mission. He and Denki passed out under the table like a couple of idiots,” he said, shaking his head. 

“We should to check in on them—”

He interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “We can check on them tomorrow.”

His gaze shifted, locking onto yours with a possessive glint that made your stomach flutter. “You’re all mine this weekend. Those extras can wait.”

You blushed, your face softening as the weight of his words settled over you. The tenderness beneath his rough exterior always caught you off guard, especially when he showed it in moments like these. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for once, it wasn’t just because of the cozy towel wrapped around you.

Katsuki reached into the drawer, grabbing your favorite lip oil with a casual confidence, but his movements slowed with deliberate care as he traced the line of your cupid's bow, filling in your lips with precise strokes.

You felt the cool glide of the oil over your lips, the faint scent of vanilla filling the air between you. Watching him concentrate so intensely on such a delicate task brought a smile to your face.

“I can remember the last time you did something like this~”

you teased, the sing-song lilt in your voice light, playful. His reaction was immediate—his sharp vermillion eyes snapped back to yours, but his reddening ears gave him away. For all his confidence, a comment like that still managed to fluster him. The slight color spreading across his face would’ve been easy to miss if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.

His scowl deepened, and he growled, “So you wanna get your ass knocked out or what?”

You giggled, placing one hand on his solid shoulder, your fingers brushing against the heat radiating from his skin. Then, with a grin, you pressed the crown of your head into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek. 

“Nooo, I’m just so happy you’re here!” Your voice was soft, genuine, the relief and joy of his presence making you melt into the moment.

Katsuki’s tension ebbed as he rolled his eyes, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He let your teasing slide, his usual gruffness tempered by the tenderness he rarely let anyone else see.

Without a word, he scooped you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing, his strength effortless as he held you close to his chest. You clung to him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, his heartbeat steady under your palm.

‘God, I love your heartbeat.’

As he carried you through the apartment, Katsuki flicked off the lights with a casual swipe of his hand, the darkness closing in behind you both. When you entered your room, you were greeted with the fresh, clean scent of laundry detergent and something distinctly Katsuki.

You blinked in surprise, realizing just how spotless everything was.

The bed was made, your clothes folded, and the air felt lighter, even though your mirror—still cracked from earlier—reflected back the remnants of your impulsive outburst. The shards of glass had already been swept and vacuumed away, leaving no trace of the mess.

Before you could comment, Katsuki threw you onto the bed, your body bouncing lightly against the plush comforter. “Hey!” you protested, mock indignation coloring your voice as you propped yourself up on your elbows, glaring at him.

He just smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re asking for it.” You narrowed your eyes, grabbing one of your stuffed animals—a soft, well-loved bunny—and held it up like a threat. “I’ll throw all my stuffed animals at you, Katsuki, don’t test me.”

But the playful moment quickly shifted, his expression darkening with a predatory edge. His eyes gleamed as he climbed onto the bed with slow, deliberate movements, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he stalked toward you, inch by inch, like a wild animal sizing up its prey. The air between you thickened, electric, and your breath caught in your throat.

"You really wanna do that, sweetheart?" His voice was low, dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze flickered briefly to the stuffed bunny in your hand before it snapped back to your face. "When you know how I feel about your 'babies'?" The way he drawled out the word—"babies"—made heat coil low in your stomach, your body responding involuntarily to the tension in the air.

Your grip on the bunny loosened, and without thinking, you let it drop from your hand. It tumbled onto the bed with a soft thud, forgotten, as you instinctively wrapped yourself tighter in the towel, your pulse quickening.

Katsuki’s smirk widened at your silence, his voice a low rumble as he teased, “What, no answer for me?” He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, turning his ear toward you as if daring you to speak.

Instead of words, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Katsuki chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. He tugged at the edge of your towel with one finger, pulling it down just enough to expose your neck, your pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin. His lips descended, pressing a hot, firm kiss against the sensitive spot just above your collarbone, his breath hot as he whispered against your skin, 

“Good choice.”

Your breath hitched, your body shivering as you leaned into his touch, his kiss lingering like a brand against your flesh. The air around you was thick with unspoken words, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the warmth of his presence, the safety and intensity that only Katsuki could bring.

Katsuki’s hands reached for the hem of his skull-printed shirt, fingers curling as he lifted it over his head. The muscles in his arms and chest flexed with the movement, every line of his sculpted frame rippling with controlled power. He didn’t bother tossing it aside like he normally would. Instead, he draped it over you, lowering it onto your head before helping you slip your arms through the sleeves.

You smiled softly as the worn fabric slid down your body, the familiar scent of Katsuki surrounding you like a comforting embrace. His shirt was huge on you, the edges brushing just past your thighs, the warmth of it melding with the heat radiating from him.

You shifted beneath him, looking up as he hovered over you, his palms bracing on either side of your head. The proximity made your heart race, the weight of his gaze sending a shiver of anticipation through your body. Katsuki’s sharp eyes softened for just a second, the intensity still present but tempered with something warmer, more intimate.

He didn’t say anything as you wrapped your arms around his strong back, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingers.

“Come here,” you murmured, giving him a gentle tap between his shoulder blades.

Without hesitation, Katsuki let himself drop, all the glorious warmth of his body pressing against you in a slow, controlled descent. The heavy weight of his chest flattened against yours, and you sighed in contentment, the closeness making you feel grounded.

Katsuki’s body, normally so explosive and full of barely contained energy, was now soft and pliant against you, like he was giving you the privilege of feeling his full, unfiltered presence.

Your hands naturally found their way to his spiky blonde hair, fingers threading through the surprisingly soft strands. For all the sharpness of his exterior, Katsuki’s hair was softer than most people knew—something only a select few had the privilege to experience. He guarded his personal space like a fortress, and it took time for him to let his guard down around anyone, let alone like this.

But with you, it was different. He was different.

He was your fussy Pomeranian—prickly to everyone else, but with a soft, loyal core.

You gently massaged his scalp, your nails scraping lightly against his skin as you worked through the spiked chaos of his hair. You could feel him relax, his tense shoulders loosening as he melted further into you, letting out a low grunt of approval. The sound was almost primal, a rumbling that vibrated through his chest and into yours.

You were so caught up in the moment, fingers tracing the line of his neck and combing through his hair, that you almost missed the sudden burst of air against your shoulder. It wasn’t until you felt the wet tickle of his lips blowing a raspberry into your skin that you realized he was trying to get your attention.

“What the—Katsuki!” you squealed, laughing as the sound reverberated through your skin. He smirked against your shoulder, clearly pleased with himself.

He lifted his head slightly, his red eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “You listening now, or do I gotta do it again?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was that familiar edge of dominance underneath it all.

You huffed in mock annoyance, rolling your eyes before looking up at him. “What were you saying, genius?”

Katsuki grinned, the corners of his mouth twitching as he lowered himself again, letting his breath fan against your ear. “I said you’re lucky, you know that?” His voice was softer now, but it still held that commanding tone that sent a spark of heat through your chest. 

“Lucky I didn’t pounce on you the second I got back.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and your breath hitched as you met his gaze. The raw intensity in his eyes, that feral spark you loved so much, was back. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a promise.

You swallowed, your voice coming out a little breathless. “Yeah? And why didn’t you?”

His grin widened as he pressed his forehead against yours, his voice dropping even lower. “Because I’m not an idiot. I could see you weren’t takin’ care of yourself. And I ain’t about to let my girl fall apart while I’m gone.”

You blinked, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you, though his words held a stern undertone. He shifted slightly, his weight pressing more firmly against you as his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing just under the hem of his shirt. The touch was possessive but careful, like he was reminding you who was in charge of your well-being now.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “but sometimes, you get stressed and forget.” His hands stilled, resting on your waist. “So I’m gonna do it for you.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Katsuki, in his own gruff way, always knew exactly what you needed. And it wouldn’t even  admit it outright, he cared more than anyone you’d ever known.

You felt your hands tighten in his hair again, tugging gently as you let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a mix of affection and guilt. You knew you hadn’t been taking care of yourself lately, but hearing him say it hit differently. It made you realize just how much he’d noticed, how much he’d been keeping track, even when he wasn’t around.

Katsuki didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he shifted his weight, lifting his head to look down at you again, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, well... just don’t make me come home to that shit again, got it?” His voice was still gruff, but there was an undeniable warmth in his tone.

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. He didn’t need to say it outright, but you knew—he wasn’t going anywhere. Not when it came to you.

Without another word, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and you let yourself relax under the weight of his body, feeling safe, loved, and cared for.

The two of you lay there in a soft, comfortable silence, the weight of Katsuki’s warm body settled against yours, his steady breath fanning over your skin.

His arms, strong yet gentle, stayed wrapped around your waist as if anchoring himself to you. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the sheets and the subtle creaking of the bed beneath your weight. You were about to close your eyes, savoring the moment, when you felt a slight flutter against your neck. His long eyelashes were brushing against your skin, tickling you softly.

You blinked, lifting your head slightly. "Katsuki, you alright?"

A muffled, "Yeah," came from him, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. But something in the way he said it made you pause. His head shifted, settling over your boob (chest), right where your heart was. The sensation of his ear pressing against your heartbeat sent a wave of warmth and electricity rushing through you. Your soul felt like it was lighting up, a familiar connection between you two sparking alive.

Katsuki reached for your hand, his calloused fingers weaving through yours with a gentleness that contrasted his usual roughness. He lifted your intertwined hands and pressed them over his own heart, resting them there. The sensation, the intimacy of the moment, sent a tingle through your entire body, filling you with an overwhelming sense of love and connection. It was rare for Katsuki to be this tender, to show you this vulnerable side of himself. 

And yet, as you lay there, your heartbeats in sync, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A soft, involuntary smile tugged at your lips as you looked down at him. You could feel the rhythm of his heart beneath your palm, steady and strong, and you were certain he could feel yours, too. The electric charge between you wasn’t just emotional; it felt physical, like your very essence was reaching out to him, and he to you. Katsuki, usually so tough and guarded, was here in your arms, sharing this tender moment.

But as you lay there, soaking in the warmth of the moment, something shifted. Katsuki stiffened slightly in your arms, his body going rigid against yours. You could feel his breath hitch, and when you looked down, you saw the confusion in his eyes, the way they glistened with unshed tears. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked completely lost, almost scared.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you felt him tense even further. A flicker of panic shot through you. You knew how hard it was for Katsuki to express his emotions, and seeing him like this, vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down, tugged at something deep inside of you. 

"Are you having those pains again? Is it your chest?!"

Katsuki shook his head quickly, but his face contorted, and he let out a sharp sniff, his breaths coming faster. His fingers squeezed yours, his grip tightening as his other arm wrapped around your waist with almost a desperate strength.

You could feel the heat rising off his skin, his body suddenly clammy as if he were in a battle. His muscles tensed and flexed, his jaw clenched as he tried to fight whatever emotions were threatening to spill out.

"'S alright," he mumbled into your chest, but you could hear the tremble in his voice, the way it cracked as if he were holding something back. He buried his face deeper against you, curling into your body as though trying to shield himself from the storm brewing inside him.

"No, 'S not alright," you countered softly, your hand moving to rub slow, calming circles over his sweaty back. "Come on, Katsu, you know you can tell me."

You felt his heart pounding harder against your hand, the frantic rhythm echoing through your palm. His breath hitched again, and you instinctively shifted, running your fingers through his hair to calm him. Your other hand moved to the back of his neck, rubbing the tension out of his tight muscles as his breaths came in shallow gasps.

Katsuki’s palms, usually dry and strong, grew slick with sweat, and you could feel his hands trembling as they gripped yours. He sniffed again, louder this time, his body shuddering as he tried to regain control. Several deep, shaky breaths followed, but he didn’t pull away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he lifted his head. His red eyes were rimmed with unshed tears, his lashes wet as he blinked them away. He sat up slowly, pulling himself out of your embrace, though he still held onto your hand like a lifeline. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his gaze distant as if he were trying to sort through the mess of emotions swirling inside him.

You reached up, gently brushing a tear away from his cheek. “Baby, talk to me, please.”

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to find his voice. When he finally spoke, his words were soft, raw. “I dunno... I just—” He paused, his jaw clenched as he looked down at your hand still resting over his heart. “I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him like this, so vulnerable and confused. Katsuki wasn’t used to feeling things this deeply, wasn’t used to letting anyone in like this. But here he was, breaking down in front of you, and all you wanted to do was hold him together.

You scooted closer, sitting up and pressing your forehead against his. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Katsu,” you whispered, your voice soothing as you cupped his face in your hands. “You’re just... feeling things. It’s okay.”

Katsuki closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he leaned into your touch. “I don’t like it,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I don’t like not... not being able to control it.”

You kissed his forehead softly, letting your lips linger there for a moment before pulling back. “You don’t always have to be in control. It’s okay to let go sometimes.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, just sat there with his eyes closed, his breathing slowly evening out as he let your words sink in. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were still glassy, but the panic had faded, replaced by a quiet resolve. He looked at you with an intensity that took your breath away.

“You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t... I don’t wanna lose it.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you pressed another gentle kiss to his cheek. “You won’t lose it, Katsuki. I’m here.”

Katsuki’s hand tightened around yours as he pulled back slightly, taking in a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. His eyes, still a little glassy but full of determination, met yours with a quiet intensity. “I didn’t want to be away from you,” he started, his voice soft but firm. “Even if work’s important... to me, you’re more important.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that his work as a hero mattered, that it saved lives, but the look he gave you made you stop short. His gaze softened as it met yours, a silent plea for understanding. And instead of fighting back, you took his rough, calloused hands in yours, bringing them to your lips and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Then, with a small smile, you pressed his hands gently to your cheeks, letting him feel the warmth there, the quiet affection you had for him.

“I’m with you,” you whispered, and those simple words seemed to ease the tension in his body. He let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling heavily before he continued.

“I get it,” he said, his voice a little stronger now. “Why you’re always trying to be so independent. You’ve got your own life, your own goals, and I want to respect that.” His thumb gently brushed against your cheek as he spoke, as though grounding himself with your touch.

“But I can’t... I can’t just sit by and watch you not take care of yourself. Sometimes... I feel like it’s my job to make sure you’re okay, ‘cause I... I love you.”

His voice cracked on those last words, and you saw the raw emotion flicker in his eyes. Katsuki wasn’t used to being vulnerable like this, to letting people see the softer side of him. But he was here, laying it all bare in front of you. You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity, the fear that maybe you didn’t need him as much as he needed you. It tugged at something deep inside you.

“I love you, and I want to take care of you,” he went on, his grip on your hands tightening as if he were afraid to let go. “I wanna protect you, keep you safe, even when you don’t think you need it. It’s... it’s who I am. And I’m not gonna apologize for it.”

Your heart swelled with affection, and you moved your hands over his arms, gently rubbing along the firm, tense muscles as you tried to soothe him. His skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the faint tremble in his shoulders as he kept talking, the weight of his emotions finally spilling out.

“I just...” Katsuki paused, his voice faltering for a moment as he swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in his throat at bay. “This time away from you... it made me realize a lot. How much I love you, how much I need you around. I can’t stand it when I’m not with you, even if it’s just for a few days.” He let out a small, almost bitter chuckle. “You probably think it’s stupid, huh?”

You smiled softly, shaking your head as you continued to run your hands over his arms, feeling the tension slowly melt away under your touch. “It’s not stupid,” you whispered. “I missed you too.”

Katsuki’s eyes flickered with relief, but there was still a hint of frustration lingering in his expression. “But you... you don’t take care of yourself, not the way you should,” he said, his voice more serious now. “You always look after everyone else—hell, you make sure everyone’s okay, but you don’t do the same for yourself. It drives me crazy.”

You gave him a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood just a little. “You can’t keep an eye on me all the time, Katsu.”

He huffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “That’s the problem. I can’t. And you don’t make a habit of neglecting yourself, but when you do... you’re a hypocrite. You’ll run yourself into the ground to help everyone else, but then act like you don’t need anyone to do the same for you.”

You wanna stick your tongue out at him but knowing Katsuki, he’d make you regret that all night long. 

Katsuki’s intense gaze lingered, tracing every inch of you with a sharp, possessive look that made your heart race. His eyes moved from the top of your head, down the gentle curve of your neck, over the way his oversized skull shirt bunched up on your thighs, and down to your toes.

You could feel the weight of his stare, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, it seemed like the air between you thickened with tension.

Then he blinked, and it was like a fog lifting. He shifted, reaching into the deep pockets of his sweatpants with a small grunt. “I wanted to do this ‘right,’ ya know,” he muttered, almost to himself, but the words were laced with that familiar gruffness. His fingers fiddled with something in his pocket, his focus still mostly on you.

“Spent weeks with those dumbasses—picking out flowers, going through all these fancy restaurants, trying to get the perfect gift. Because you’re my girl, and I only get the best for you.”

His voice was low, raspy, and the way his eyes softened briefly before trailing down to your legs made your breath catch. His hand, rough and warm, ghosted over your ankle as if testing the waters before his grip tightened, just enough to pull you slightly closer with a small, teasing tug.

The movement startled you, and you yelped, instinctively wrapping the towel tighter around your waist as you scrambled upright, your heart hammering against your ribs. Katsuki’s laughter rumbled through the room, deep and genuine, the sound like warm honey coating the air. He was taking in the sight of your flustered reaction with a wicked grin plastered on his face.

“Kats,” you started, still catching your breath as you eyed him suspiciously, “what are you getting at?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes returned, that familiar cocky, dangerous look that always made your pulse quicken. His grin softened into something more meaningful, more grounded, but still tinged with that wild spark. That look in his eye? It was the one that always had you convinced that all the hot ones were definitely crazy.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he confessed, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more vulnerable.

“Since I met you.”

You blinked, watching as his gaze flickered down to your bare legs. His jaw clenched for a split second, and he let out a low curse under his breath. “Should’ve used that damn lotion,” he muttered, almost to himself, clearly irritated that he hadn’t taken the chance to pamper you properly.

The moonlight filtering in from your window cast a silvery glow over him, highlighting every cut and line of his muscles as if he were carved from stone.

He was beautiful, raw, like a storm contained just beneath the surface, and for a brief moment, you were distracted by the sight of him—the rise and fall of his chest, the way his stomach flexed with each breath.

You could have his babies right here, right now.

Then his voice softened again, and the mood shifted as he spoke. “I love you. I really do.” His tone was hushed, like it was just for you. His eyes—usually so full of fire and determination—now held something much deeper, something vulnerable that he rarely let show. It was just him. Your Katsuki.

“I’m not good with this shit. I know that,” he admitted, his mouth tugging into a small, self-deprecating smirk. “But I wanna do this right.”

You blinked, feeling the air grow heavier as he squared his shoulders, a determined glint returning to his eyes. His hand finally left his pocket, and in one swift, almost impatient motion, he pulled something out and opened it in front of you. 

A small box. Velvet. The kind that held only one thing.

Your breath hitched, and your entire world seemed to narrow down to that tiny box and the ring inside it. It glittered in the low light, catching the moon's glow, but the details were lost on you as your heart thudded wildly in your chest.

Katsuki looked at you, dead-on, his expression both serious and soft at the same time, like he was offering you everything he had. 

“Would you marry me and be my hot mess?”

For a split second, you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t even process the words that had just come out of his mouth. You felt like someone had knocked the air out of your lungs with a feather—hell, they could have knocked you over with one.

The world stopped spinning. Your eyes darted between the ring and Katsuki, who was watching you carefully now, his breath held as if he was waiting for your next move. You could feel the gravity of this moment pressing down on your chest, and yet... it wasn’t the heavy kind of weight that scared you. No. It was something else entirely.

It was the kind of weight that came with the realization that this moment, this person in front of you, was everything you never knew you needed.

A million thoughts raced through your mind, and none of them made sense, but your body reacted first. Your lips parted, but no words came out at first, only a small breathless laugh as you brought your shaking hands up to your mouth. Katsuki’s eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction, and the barest hint of nerves flashed behind his hardened exterior. He might’ve been a fearless hero, but this?

This was different.

“Katsuki,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice as the emotions swirled inside you. “You... you’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he replied immediately, his voice unwavering now. His eyes bore into yours with that fierce conviction only he could pull off. “I’ve been serious about you from the start. I love you, and I’m not waiting around anymore. I want you. With me. Always.”

His words sank into you, and before you even fully realized what you were doing, your hands shot forward, grabbing his face, pulling him down toward you. You kissed him—deeply, passionately, pouring everything you had into it, letting the overwhelming feelings consume you.

His lips were warm, familiar, grounding. Katsuki groaned softly into the kiss, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer as if the space between you was too much to bear.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling with his as you both panted softly. The world around you faded, and all that was left was the man in front of you and the question still hanging in the air.

“Yes,” you breathed, smiling through the tears that had welled up in your eyes. “Yes, Katsuki. I’ll marry you.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw it—the raw, unfiltered joy on his face. It wasn’t loud or boastful, but it was there, in the soft curl of his lips and the way his eyes shone with unshed tears.

Katsuki Bakugo had won another battle—this time, with your heart.

Katsuki's rough fingers, calloused and warm, carefully slid the ring over your finger, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. You couldn’t help but gasp as the gem caught the light, sparkling in a way that made your heart skip a beat. It was more than beautiful—it was personal. The stone in the center was your birthstone, cut into your favorite shape and polished into your favorite color, surrounded by a delicate halo of tiny rubies. Rubies just like his eyes.

Your gaze flickered to the ring and then back to Katsuki. “How… how did you…?” you whispered, utterly floored. The details were so specific, the kind that you had only mentioned in passing, mostly to Michael. But somehow, Katsuki had pieced it all together.

The rubies glistened against the band, and nestled between them were smaller gemstones that mirrored the exact shade of your eyes. And if that wasn’t enough, there was another set of gems, a deep, fiery orange—the color of Katsuki’s favorite thing: explosions.

You turned the ring over in your hand, overwhelmed by the craftsmanship, the thoughtfulness. Every inch of the piece was a reflection of you, of him, of both of you together. Whoever he went to had worked some serious magic. As your fingers brushed over the band, something else caught your eye. With trembling hands, you slipped the ring off, turning it over, and there it was—engraved into the inside of the band in Katsuki’s unmistakable bluntness:

“I love you, dumbass.”

That was it. The tears came again, flooding your vision before you could stop them. Your chest tightened with the overwhelming sweetness of it all. You’d never expected this. How could you? This whole day had taken such a turn that your emotions were a tangled mess, and now, here you were, crying like a baby over a ring. But it wasn’t just any ring—it was him, you, everything.

“Katsuki,” you sobbed, bringing the ring to your chest as if it could stop the flood of emotions. Your voice trembled, but before you could even say another word, Katsuki’s eyes widened in pure panic. He hated when you cried. Hell, it wasn’t often that you let yourself fall apart like this, and seeing you like that sent him spiraling.

“Oi, oi! Don’t cry, damn it!” he barked, his voice frantic as he moved in closer, cupping your face with both hands. But then his panic melted into something softer as his thumbs wiped away the tears. 

“I’m serious, stop it, or you’re gonna make me lose it.”

But the sight of your tears didn’t stop him from acting on impulse. In typical Katsuki fashion, he leaned down and kissed you, first pressing his lips all over your face, desperate to dry every tear. But he didn’t stop there. In a ridiculous, completely endearing move, he leaned over and licked your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears with a playful smirk. You squealed, pulling away in shock, your face scrunched up in disbelief. 

“Did you just—ew, Katsuki! That’s so gross!”

You smacked his solid chest, half laughing, half horrified, but that only egged him on. “Oh, I’m gross now, huh?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous as he grinned down at you. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he launched himself at you, playfully wrestling you down onto the bed.

“No, no—Katsuki!” you shrieked, giggling uncontrollably as his strong arms trapped you beneath him. He pinned you effortlessly, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. His lips were on you again, peppering your face with kisses, and soon enough, the two of you were tumbling around in the sheets, rolling and laughing like a couple of kids.

The wrestling match was chaotic, full of breathless laughter, limbs tangled up, and soft murmurs of affection between teasing jabs. Katsuki was surprisingly playful, and before long, you were both breathless, collapsing side by side on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as your hearts raced in sync.

You turned your head, catching the way his chest heaved with each breath, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His messy hair, usually so spiked and wild, was disheveled in the cutest way possible. Without thinking, you reached out, running your fingers through it, smoothing it back in place. He hummed in contentment, his eyes half-lidded as he looked over at you.

“But where’s your ring?” you asked, suddenly realizing that the gesture had been one-sided. You were the one with the ring on your finger, but what about him?

Katsuki chuckled, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “My ring, huh?” He smirked, eyes sparkling with that familiar cocky glint. “I’ll just give you my wallet, and you can surprise me.”

You blinked, taken aback for a second, before bursting into laughter. “M’Okay!” you replied, your voice full of playful mockery. “But don’t blame me if I pick something pink and covered in glitter.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” he shot back, unbothered by the thought, though you knew he’d raise hell if you actually went through with it. The both of you erupted into laughter again, the sound filling the room like music.

Katsuki shifted, rolling onto his side as he gently took your hand in his, threading your fingers together like he always did. His lips found your hand again, this time softer, more purposeful. He kissed the spot right over your ring, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if sealing his promise to you.

“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou,” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked at him, your fiancé, the man who had somehow managed to make this chaotic mess of a proposal the most perfect moment of your life.

Katsuki’s eyes softened, his rough exterior melting away in the intimate glow of the moonlight. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I love you too, dumbass,” he muttered, his voice gruff, but his expression was nothing short of tender.

In that moment, wrapped up in each other, you realized something: this—this wild, crazy love you shared with Katsuki—was the only thing that made sense in the world. You lay there together, side by side, hearts entwined, you knew without a doubt that you had found your forever.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, warm glow across the bed, but you groaned, stretching lazily as you woke up. Your fingers instinctively brushed against your hair, feeling the unruly mess it had become overnight—complete with knots and stubborn curls that had a mind of their own.

You squinted at the brightness as your phone buzzed on the bedside table. Checking it, you saw the familiar ping of an email notification and grinned. You've been paid.

Sweet relief!

Rolling over to share the good news, you blinked in surprise at the empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold, and there was no sign of your fiancé—wait, boyfriend—wait, fiancé! A flutter of excitement bubbled up inside you at the thought of the word.

But the smell of breakfast caught your attention, and any irritation at his absence melted away. The unmistakable scent of eggs, with a hint of something smoky—probably bacon—wafted down the hallway, accompanied by the faint clink of pans from the kitchen.

Katsuki was already up, and the thought made you smile.

Without bothering to fix your appearance, you hopped out of bed, your feet hitting the cool, hardwood floor with a soft thud. You knew you’d hear about it later—how walking around barefoot would make you catch a cold. He always ranted about that kind of stuff, but you’d just smile and give him your usual “Yes, mama,” while he’d glare at you with that fiery look. 

But for now, you padded down the hall, completely barefoot, on a mission.

The closer you got, the stronger his scent became—that familiar, intoxicating mix of burnt caramel and something inherently Katsuki. You spotted him before he even saw you, standing at the stove, his back turned, a spatula in hand as he expertly flipped eggs in a pan. His muscles were taut, his broad shoulders moving effortlessly as he worked. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

With a mischievous grin, you quietly made your way over, your bare feet silent against the floor. And then, in one swift move, you leapt onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into the crook of his neck. 

“Hi, fiancé!” you greeted, your voice muffled as you inhaled deeply, taking in that addictive scent that was all his.

Katsuki stiffened for a split second, more from surprise than anything else, but he quickly recovered. With a chuckle, he reached over and turned off the stove, placing the spatula down before his hands found their way to your thighs, gripping them as he adjusted your weight.

“You’re gonna burn the damn house down one day, y’know that?” he muttered, but there was a playful note in his voice. Before you could even respond, he effortlessly spun you around, lifting you off his back and setting you down on the kitchen counter nearby. His strength never failed to amaze you, and you giggled as your bare legs dangled off the edge, your hands resting on his chest.

His eyes softened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lazy good morning kiss. “Hi, teddy bear,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice still raspy from sleep.

You smiled into the kiss, but just as you started to pull him closer, he pulled back, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Did you brush your teeth?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You snorted, shaking your head. “No.”

He frowned, glancing down. “Did you use the bathroom?”

“Nope.”

His scowl deepened, though you could see the teasing glint in his eyes. “Wash your face?”

“Also, no.”

Katsuki groaned dramatically, running a hand through his messy, spiked hair. “And this is exactly why you’re moving in with me today. You need supervision,” he grumbled, though his voice was more affectionate than angry. Before you could argue, he lightly smacked your thighs, the contact sending a playful jolt through you. 

“Katsuki!” you gasped, half laughing as you swatted at him, but he only pointed toward the living room.

Your delicate features blossomed into an expression of confusion. “What?”  But he didn’t respond, instead looking so mischievous and pleased with himself.

That’s when you noticed it—half of your living room was in disarray, large boxes stacked high, and furniture already disassembled. It looked like a moving truck had stormed through your place. Your jaw dropped as you stared at the sight.

“KATSUKI!” you shrieked, your voice bouncing off the walls as the reality of what he’d done sank in. He had already packed half your stuff—without even telling you! You couldn’t believe it.

He didn’t even flinch at your outburst, just gave you that smug, self-satisfied grin of his, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

“What? I told you, you’re movin’ in today. Thought I’d help speed things up,” he said, shrugging as if he hadn’t just dismantled your entire living room.

You huffed, staring at the boxes like you couldn’t believe your eyes. “You could’ve at least warned me!”

He chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your waist. “Nah. You’d just overthink it. This way, it’s done, and we don’t have to argue about it,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss your nose.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m still not done with school, you know. And we haven’t even… there’s no… ring on your finger.”

Katsuki quirked a brow, his smirk turning wicked. “I told you, give me my wallet, and you can surprise me with the ring.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” he said, the playful edge to his voice making your heart skip a beat. “And don’t worry about school. You can study at my place just fine.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he kissed you again, this time more firmly, his lips capturing yours in a way that made your head spin. You melted into it, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you pulled him closer, your feet curling around his calves.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your lips tingling. “You don’t play fair,” you muttered, but the smile on your face betrayed you.

He grinned, kissing your forehead softly before pressing his lips to your knuckles where your ring sat. “I play to win, babe. And I already did,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

You sighed, leaning into him, knowing full well that Katsuki Bakugou always got his way.

Before you could respond to his sweet words, a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes. You leaned in closer, pretending to go in for another kiss, but at the last second, you bit him—just lightly, on his shoulder—before snatching the plate of bacon from the counter. Katsuki blinked, his eyes widening in confusion before narrowing sharply as he processed what had just happened.

“You little brat!” he growled, his voice full of playful irritation.

With a squeal, you jumped off the counter, bare feet hitting the cold floor, and bolted for the bedroom, the stolen bacon in hand. You knew exactly what you were doing. Katsuki typically hated when anyone touched his food (although he actually had a habit of feeding you from his plate and fork), but you couldn’t help it. You loved riling him up, especially when he got that fire in his eyes!~

"Come back here, princess!" he barked, and the sound of his footsteps echoed behind you.

You darted around the corner, your heart pounding with adrenaline and laughter bubbling in your throat. The hardwood floor was slippery, and you barely made it to the door when Katsuki’s booming footsteps got louder. He was fast, too fast. 

A real predator on the hunt, and you were his target.

“Fuuuuck it, we ball!” you shouted over your shoulder, laughing as you slid into the bedroom. You could hear him cursing under his breath, muttering something about how you were always testing him. You were a princess, and yeah, maybe a bit of a brat, but that was part of your charm. You loved to push his buttons, loved how easy it was to get under his skin.

You heard the door slam behind you as Katsuki entered the room, hot on your heels. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze intense as he advanced. You tried to dodge him, but he was quicker, snatching the plate of bacon from your hands before grabbing your waist and pulling you back into his chest.

“Gotcha now, you little thief,” he growled in your ear, his voice low and warning, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

You squirmed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held you firm, his arms like steel bands around your waist. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” you giggled, breathless from the chase.

“You’re damn right you do,” he murmured before spinning you around and planting a quick, searing kiss on your lips. It was rough, but it was Katsuki through and through—fiery, intense, and full of passion.

You grinned against his lips, leaning into him. “Guess I’m still your little brat then, huh?”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as he looked down at you with that same possessive, loving gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. “Damn right you are. My brat, my princess, my pain in the ass.”

You laughed, nuzzling into his chest as you felt his arms tighten around you. “And you’re my grumpy fiancé,” you teased, poking his ribs.

Katsuki grumbled, but his smirk softened, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Yeah. But I’m your grumpy fiancé, so fuck it—we ball.”

In that moment, tangled together, laughter still lingering in the air, you knew without a doubt that you were his, and he was yours. No matter what life throws at you, you’d face it together. 

Always.

Taglist for Bakugou: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. I also have a Pro Hero! Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic.

Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[bunnyspine]

hello im still alive kinda had an artstyle crisis

new mha oc, her name is June!! ^_^

I'll post her more in the future

☆ #mha #mhafanart #mhaoc #myheroacademia #myheroacademiafanart #characterdesign #oc #originalcharacter #art #digitalart #anime #animeart ☆

[marudarts]

Drawing that third pose almost ki11ed me 🤚🏼 and I’m sorry if his arm is not accurate from elbow to shoulder I improvised..

anyway here’s Giulio Gandini

[thatlotuscookie]

i couldnt be anymore glad i found your page. in love with all your mha works. i request dabi x reader, where femreader has been going through stuff at home? maybe toxic parents and he does things to cheer her up and comfort her?

✧･ﾟ: a/n : aww you're so sweet, im glad you like them! i love these scenarios my anons keep asking me. LIKE?? you guys are so creative, everything goes to yall because you got the ideas. i LOVE YOU ALL! enjoy, this isnt anything long, short and simple. thank you for the req<3

✧ Title: ✧ A Safe Haven ✧ ✧ Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: You’ve been carrying the weight of your toxic home life for far too long, never telling anyone about the struggles you face. Not even Dabi, despite how close you’ve grown. After a particularly rough day, you head to the hideout, emotionally drained. Dabi notices something is off and decides to take care of you. In his own way, he shows you that you don’t have to handle everything alone. ✧ Content Warnings: Toxic household, Emotional exhaustion, Mentions of mental health struggles, Heavy themes, Comfort, Slight language. ✧ WC: 1116 words // 6.1k chars

You had never told anyone about the struggles you faced at home. It was something you buried deep, never letting it see the light of day. Not even Dabi, despite how close you had gotten over the past few months. Maybe it was pride or fear, but something kept you silent, even as the weight of your toxic household pressed down harder each day.

Today, however, everything seemed too heavy to bear.

You dragged yourself to the hideout after a particularly rough day. The yelling, the accusations—it had all piled up and left you feeling drained, worn down, and numb. Walking into the dimly lit space, you didn’t expect Dabi to be there. But there he was, lounging lazily on the couch, cigarette between his fingers, blue flames flickering faintly from his palm. His eyes flicked to you as soon as you walked in, immediately noticing the slump in your posture and the dullness in your usually bright eyes.

"You look like shit," he said bluntly, though there was an undertone of concern in his voice.

You rolled your eyes halfheartedly, too tired to play along with his usual banter. You were too mentally exhausted to do anything but collapse into the nearest chair, not even bothering to take off your coat. He studied you quietly, frowning.

"You’re quieter than usual," he muttered, snuffing out his cigarette and sitting up straight. "What’s going on?"

You shook your head, biting your lip, trying to hold it together. You weren’t ready to spill everything to him, not now. But you didn’t have the strength to hide it either.

"I don’t want to talk about it," you whispered, staring down at your hands, which were clenched into tight fists on your lap. "It’s just… home stuff. Nothing new."

Dabi’s expression darkened at the mention of your home life. He’d picked up on bits and pieces over time, though you never directly told him the full extent of it. Still, he wasn’t stupid. He could sense when something was weighing on you, and he wasn’t the type to ignore it.

Instead of pushing you, Dabi stood up, stretching lazily before sauntering over to where you sat. He crouched down in front of you, resting his arms on your knees as he tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes. You didn’t look up, still avoiding his gaze, but you felt the warmth of his presence close to you.

"Hey," he said softly, an unusual gentleness in his voice. "Look at me."

You hesitated before finally meeting his eyes. There was no teasing smirk, no sharp quips—just a rare, quiet concern in his mismatched blue and purple gaze.

"You know you don’t have to handle this on your own, right?" His voice was low, serious. "You can talk to me."

You sighed, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. "It’s just… they’re always fighting. Always blaming me for everything. Nothing I do is ever good enough. I just… I don’t know how much more I can take."

Dabi’s jaw clenched. He hated seeing you like this—broken down by people who were supposed to protect you. The anger simmered just below the surface, but he kept it in check. This wasn’t the time for his usual biting remarks. You needed him to be something else right now.

Without a word, he gently took your hands in his, prying them open from their tight fists. His touch was surprisingly soft, his thumb brushing over the indentations left from your nails digging into your skin. You flinched slightly at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.

"Come on," he said quietly, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "I’m gonna take care of you tonight."

You blinked, confused but too tired to resist as he led you to the small kitchen in the hideout. You sat on a stool at the counter while he rummaged around, gathering a few things. It was strange seeing him in such a domestic setting, but you didn’t question it. Not when the smell of something savory started to fill the air, and for a moment, you forgot the chaos you’d left behind.

Dabi worked quietly, occasionally glancing over at you as he cooked. When he finally set the food in front of you—some kind of simple but hearty meal—you realized just how hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten properly in days.

"Eat," he ordered, but his tone was gentle, more of a suggestion than a command.

You picked up the fork and took a small bite, warmth spreading through you as you ate. It wasn’t just the food—it was the fact that Dabi had taken the time to make it for you. He didn’t need to say anything for you to feel how much he cared.

Once you finished, Dabi handed you a glass of water and a couple of pills. "Painkillers," he explained. "Figured you’d have a headache with the way you’ve been acting."

You took them gratefully, feeling a little lighter. Dabi wasn’t the type to baby you, but his actions spoke louder than words. He cared in his own way, even if he wasn’t great at showing it.

When you were done, he pulled you up again, guiding you to the worn-out couch. He sat down first, then tugged you down next to him, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. You hesitated for a moment, but then relaxed into him, resting your head against his chest. His body was warm, comforting, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing started to calm your racing thoughts.

"You don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to," Dabi muttered, his hand running through your hair absentmindedly. "You can stay here. I don’t care if you think you’re a burden. You’re not."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief. You felt safe for the first time in what felt like forever. His words, his actions—they soothed the ache that had been gnawing at you for so long.

"Thank you, Dabi," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

He didn’t respond right away, just tightened his grip around you, holding you a little closer. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.

"Don’t mention it."

For the rest of the night, Dabi stayed by your side, letting you find comfort in his quiet presence. And though the chaos of your home life still lingered in the background, for the first time in a while, you felt like everything might just be okay. And maybe- just maybe, you'd want Dabi by your side throughout it all.

[lucraven]

Mha fantasy au but make it DUNGEON MESHI WOOOOOO!!!

Individual pics and races under the cut!

Ochaco - Human, Jirou - Halffoot, Aizawa - Gnome, Todoroki - Halfelf, Kaminari - Gnome, Tsuyu - Beastman, Mina - Orc, Mineta - Halffoot

[ghostcore3]

i colored it and changed his expression lol

[amourcherie606]

da besties.... toga redesign!! idk what imma do for dabi yet lmao

[tcoyd]

An original character in the style of "My Hero Academia"!

I've never done this before, but I get a wild thrill from what I done!

[sonicthehedgehoglover2]

I don't know how many of ya'll watch My Hero Academia but - after the show ends - would it not be awesome if there was a prequel for the show? Like, a prequel following All Might before he was All Might. Like, I want a prequel where we're introduced to Yagi Toshinori - a guy who wants to be a hero but doesn't have a quirk of his own. I want to see him gradually climb the ladder to becoming a hero. I want to see all the friends and people he'll make and lose. I want to see him struggle and succeed. I want to see him become the number 1 hero. And, I want to see his interactions with All for One.

In addition, I want there to be moments in the show where the focus shifts to other characters. For instance, I want there to be several episodes to focus on Aizawa, Mic, and Kurogiri, who are trying to collectively become heroes as well. I want to see what leads up to Kurogiri becoming corrupted by the villains, and I want to see how it pushes Aizawa and Mic to become heroes. In the mix of this, I want to see little snippets of Shigaraki and the other villains when they were younger, as well as the kids in class 1A.

The show should end with All Might standing after his first battle with All for One, which lead to him sustaining a massive injury, smiling. After that, the last thing we would see is a young version of Izuku staring at the computer with his mom, wanting to become just like All Might.

Or, I think it should kind of end where the first show initially started. Specifically, the part where All Might talks saves Izuku, and he decides to give Izuku One for All.

[xxbimboboyxx]

I love shipping oc x canon<33333

[real-hot-grl-shi]

guys should I make a story for my oc and a mha character? If so which one should I do

the people who I’m thinking about is Denki or Izuku because those two are quite easy to write, chat which one should I do I’m genuinely stuck 😭

The ocs in question 🤺 (left is Raven, Denki’s potential girlfriend and the right Nova, who is Izuku’s. Low key izuku sounds funner to write than Denki because- yk he’s the main character.)

@cvnt4him HELP ME U PIECE OF SHIT /j

@itsyagurlchip chip can u help me low key I’m stuck

pesto

[thebunnednun]

LOYALTY [Chapter 2]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

I've been holding off on releasing more chapters because chapter 1 didn't do so well. But this is taking off on ao3 so I'm giving it another chance.

Chapter 1 is found here The poster for it contains hints for the next chapters.

Chapter Song is: Cyber sex by Doja Cat

------------------------Chapter 2: Behind the Glass-----------------------

The neon lights of the club flickered, casting a vibrant glow that bounced off the walls and mirrors. The bass of the music pulsed through the floor, a rhythmic thrum that set the tempo for the night. You adjusted your mask and wig in the mirror, ensuring that your identity remained concealed. The anonymity was a small comfort in a job that offered little else.

Marshmallow peeked into your side of the room, her face beaming with encouragement. “You’re going to do great tonight,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. Her own outfit—a soft, lavender bodysuit with delicate lace trim—made her look like a whimsical dream. “Just remember, they’re here for the show. Give them something to remember.”

You nodded, trying to shake off the nervous energy that bubbled beneath your skin. You had been working behind the glass for a few weeks now, learning the nuances of the routine, mastering the pole, and getting accustomed to the constant surveillance of the security cameras. It was a strange existence, dancing in isolation while the world outside remained a mystery.

The glass panel separated you from the rest of the room, a barrier that allowed you to perform without being seen. On the other side, the room was filled with the occasional murmur of voices and the clinking of glasses. You focused on the task at hand, pulling yourself into a graceful routine that combined elegance with just a hint of spice.

As you began your dance, the rhythm of the music seemed to blend with the beat of your heart. The movements flowed naturally, your body moving in perfect harmony with the rhythm. Your mind wandered to the surprises of the club—especially the frequent visits from pro heroes. It was an odd revelation, but not entirely unexpected. In a place like this, discretion was paramount, and the allure of anonymity must have been appealing even to those in the spotlight.

Halfway through your routine, you heard a yawn from the other side of the glass. The sound cut through the music, startling you momentarily. You couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of the gesture. It was Marshmallow, likely on her break.

“Are you really that bored?” you called out, your voice muffled by the glass.

The response came with a chuckle. “Not bored, just waiting for you to finish up. Got a special client tonight—one of those ‘high roller’ types. They usually want something a bit… more unique.”

You finished the last of your routine, striking a final pose before retreating to the changing area. Marshmallow was already waiting for you, her eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and sympathy.

“Special client, huh?” you asked, pulling off your mask and adjusting your wig.

“Yep,” she replied, leaning casually against the wall. “Sometimes it’s just a big spender, sometimes it’s someone looking for a bit of extra fun. Just do your best and keep it professional. And if they try anything… well, you know who to call.”

You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation mixed with anxiety. As you prepared for the special client, Marshmallow’s reassuring presence was a comfort. You had grown to trust her in the short time you had known her. She had become a mentor of sorts, guiding you through the intricacies of this world.

When the time came, you stepped into the room where the special client awaited. The setup was familiar—a dimly lit space with a plush sofa positioned in the back. The client’s silhouette was obscured by the shadows, and you could make out little beyond the outline of a large figure.

You began your routine, pouring all of your new skills and emotion into the performance. The glass barrier between you and the client created a sense of separation, allowing you to maintain your composure while still delivering an intimate experience. You did your best to remember everything the girls taught you earlier and tried to channel your own sexiness into the dance. 

The minutes seemed to blend together, punctuated by the occasional murmur from the client. As you finished your routine and prepared to leave, you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. The job was done, and you had managed to maintain your anonymity once again.

Back in the dressing room, Marshmallow was waiting with a smile. “How’d it go?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

“Not too bad,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “He left a good tip too.”

She gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “Good to hear. Now, let’s hit the gym. We’ve got to keep those moves sharp.”

After your shifts, you and Micheal, or Marshmallow as she was known in the club, headed toward the gym after another grueling night, she glanced over at you with a thoughtful expression. The treadmill’s rhythmic thud matched your steady pace, and you could see her reflection in the gym’s large mirrors.

“You know,” Micheal said, her voice breaking through the thump of the treadmill, “there’s other ways to make money online. Not just the stuff you’re doing now.”

You looked over at her, curiosity piqued. Micheal was a striking woman, her skin a rich, deep brown that glowed under the gym’s fluorescent lights. Her hair was styled in a sleek, ponytail that framed her face perfectly. She wore a workout outfit that accentuated her strong physique, but it was her eyes—full of knowledge and warmth—that drew you in.

“I’m already working online during the day,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual.

Micheal chuckled and shook her head, pulling out her phone. “That’s cute. But there’s more out there, you know. Look.” She turned the screen towards you, revealing a list of adult apps and websites. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced away, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Don’t be a prude,” Micheal teased, her smile playful. “You don’t even have to show your face if you don’t want to.”

You considered her suggestion, weighing it against your pressing financial needs. The tuition and apartment costs were mounting, and every bit of extra income would help. “I’ll think about it,” you said, focusing on your workout to distract yourself.

When you returned home, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. You slumped into your chair and sifted through a stack of rejection letters, each one a reminder of how tough the job market was. After scheduling more interviews, you allowed yourself a short nap, hoping it would recharge you.

The nap, however, turned into a nightmare. You dreamt of your ex, his voice insistent, pressuring you to move to Japan with him. His words echoed in your mind, manipulating and demanding, until you woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. The fear and anxiety from the dream clung to you, adding to your already fraught emotions.

You sat up, wiping your face with a shaky hand, and remembered Micheal’s advice. You fumbled for your phone and shot her a text, asking about the safest website where you wouldn’t have to get nude.

Micheal’s reply came swiftly. She sent you a link to “Secret Admirer,” an app where the user is in control. “It’s a sugar baby app, but the baby calls the shots. You can add a shopping list link and build a profile with pics and videos. Within a few hours, you should start getting messages.”

You stared at the link, your mind racing with possibilities. Micheal’s explanation gave you a small glimmer of hope. “Thanks <33,” you texted back, gratitude mingling with apprehension.

‘Fuck it I’m doing this.’

That evening, you set up your account on “Secret Admirer.” With the help of makeup, filters, and another wig, you created a completely new persona. You named her “Princess Diamond” the antithesis of your real self. Where you were reserved and introspective, Princess was a brash, demanding spoiled brat with an insatiable appetite for luxury. 

You looked at the final result on your screen, feeling a mix of satisfaction and discomfort. This new identity was a way to protect yourself, to shield your true self from the harshness of your circumstances. You hoped it would work, that it would provide the financial cushion you needed to get back on your feet.

At least you hoped it would. 

The basement storage room was transformed into your temporary haven. It wasn’t much—just a simple space with concrete walls and a basic light fixture—but you were determined to make it livable. You assembled your old bed frame and draped plain white sheets over it, creating a semblance of comfort. Around the room, you hung colorful banners and posters, adding splashes of personality to the otherwise drab space. The long changing divider you set up did its best to conceal the boxes of your other belongings, creating an illusion of privacy.

Satisfied with your efforts, you propped your phone against a stack of boxes and dialed Micheal for her input. The call connected quickly, and Micheal’s familiar face appeared on the screen. 

“Hey, what’s up?” she greeted, her voice carrying a tone of casual curiosity. 

“I’m about to do a show,” you said, trying to sound upbeat despite the gnawing anxiety in your stomach. You flipped the camera to give her a view of your makeshift setup.

Micheal’s eyes darted around the room as she took in the scene. Her expression shifted from impressed to contemplative. “Nice work on the quick thinking,” she said with a smile. “Crafty, but you do know it’s going to need to be more hyper-feminine if you’re going to really sell this, right?”

You sighed, looking around at the modest decor. The banners and posters were a good start, but the room still felt incomplete. The bed frame was plain, and the sheets were ordinary. The divider was practical but hardly glamorous. “Just what I was thinking, any ideas?” you said, feeling a bit tired.

Micheal nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she thought. “Hmmm, I have an idea. Just keep taking pics and videos of yourself for now. I’ll be in touch with more details.”

She blew a few playful kisses into the camera before ending the call, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You turned your attention back to your profile, updating it with the new photos and videos you’d taken. Despite the fatigue and frustration, a small spark of excitement flickered within you. There were a few new messages waiting, and the prospect of new connections invigorated you.

As you were thinking of settling in for the evening, your phone buzzed with a new text from Micheal. “Join my live,” it read. Your confusion was soon overshadowed by curiosity as you prepared to join her stream.

You set your phone up on a stand and waited for the connection. Micheal appeared on screen, her usual vibrant self. Only she didn't have a top on. The stream ran smoothly, with Micheal interacting with her audience and discussing various topics with you. Everything seemed normal until Micheal suddenly shooed you away from the screen, her demeanor shifting to something more serious.

“Alright, now listen,” she instructed, her voice taking on a commanding tone. “I want you to turn on your music and point the camera towards the divider. Put on a show for me.”

Realization dawned on you. Micheal was supposed to be doing a squirt show right now, and it was up to you to make it engaging. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You started one of your more seductive routines, moving behind the divider. The muted, private space was your sanctuary, and you poured your energy into the performance, swaying and winding with practiced ease. 

It was ironically a little easier to strip down to your panties in this storage unit than in the club. As you danced, you heard the constant ding of notifications from your phone. The influx of messages and tips was almost overwhelming, and the steady hum of your phone’s vibrations grew louder. It wasn’t long before the phone started to overheat and beep as the screen became uncomfortably warm. You scrambled to throw on your jeans and sweater before you placed the phone in front of a fan, trying to cool it down before it shut off entirely.

The stream ended abruptly as the phone’s temperature soared, and you were kicked out of the live session. Your heart raced as you checked your account, eyes widening in disbelief at the amount of money that had accumulated. The funds were substantial, far more than you had anticipated.

That wasn’t what shocked you though. 

Alongside the influx of money, there was a transfer from Micheal with a note that read, “Buy yourself some pretty things, xxxooo~” Her generosity was both a relief and a source of renewed hope. You marveled at the support Micheal had provided, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation.

“I love that woman!”

With your phone finally cooled down, you took a moment to reflect on the evening’s events. The unexpected success of your performance was a beacon of hope in an otherwise tumultuous time. Micheal’s kindness and the financial cushion she had provided were a lifeline, giving you the breathing room you needed to continue rebuilding your life.

You closed your eyes, feeling a cautious optimism about the future. The shit show was far from over, but with support from Micheal, you felt a bit more secure. The stream left you feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. It was way easier than working at the club. 

After the whirlwind of emotions, you found yourself staring at your phone, hands trembling as you recorded a voice message for Micheal. You knew she'd probably be in the shower right now to clean off from her "performance". Your voice wavered as you spoke, a mix of disbelief and gratitude evident in your tone.

“Hey Micheal, I— I don’t even know how to thank you. How did you do this? Why? I’m still in shock!” 

You sent the message and waited, your heart pounding in anticipation. A few moments later, Micheal’s reply came through, her voice warm and reassuring.

“Hey there, calm down. I was hyping up your profile during my show. My clients were really interested, and it got you a solid fanbase right off the bat. You’ve got a lot of potential, and they’re excited to meet you. Just make sure to keep everything separate from your real life. Buy things that fit your online persona so you don’t get too attached.”

Her advice was practical and wise, but it only fueled the mix of relief and anxiety you felt. “Okay,” you replied, taking a deep breath. “I’ll get on it. Thanks so much for everything.” You blew her some kisses that you caught before you both hung up and immediately jumped onto Pinterest, scrolling through endless pages of Y2K fashion and room decor ideas.

Your room, now to be decorated in pastel pinks and nostalgic patterns, needed a bit more polish to fit the vibe. You envisioned adding bold prints, glittering accents, and maybe a few playful neon signs to complete the look. With a clear plan in mind, you set about buying new items for your space, making sure to keep the majority of the money aside for your tuition and a new apartment.

Okay, maybe you were looking at that stuff because your ex never let you decorate the apartment how you wanted. 

Just before bed, you decided to go live, just one more time.

As you started the stream, you were pleasantly surprised to see a handful of subscribers already in the comment section. The messages began to flood in:

StarGazer88 : Wow, you look stunning! The setup is amazing!

RetroFan23 : Your room is so cute! Love the decor!

FrightenFae : You’re absolutely beautiful! Can’t wait to see more!

You grinned at the screen, feeling a rush of excitement. Channeling the confidence Micheal had coached you on, you began to speak with a playful, almost teasing tone. “Hey everyone! Thanks for joining me tonight. I’m thinking of doing a Q&A show. What do you guys think?”

The chat erupted with enthusiasm, a chorus of “Yes!” and “Definitely!” filling the comments. Some viewers also requested a room tour, and you decided to make a playful challenge out of it.

“Well, if someone tips $500, I’ll do it,” you said with a wink and a smile, your voice dripping with sweet, sultry charm.

To your astonishment, the screen quickly filled with notifications of tips, and within moments, a user named Spiceman420 had tipped the entire $500.

“Hey, Spiceman420, thank you so much!�� you said, beaming at the camera. Your genuine smile lit up the screen, and the viewers went wild with excitement.

As the tips continued to roll in, you tried to keep your composure, but your phone was starting to overheat again. “Guys, please slow down! My phone can’t handle this!” you pleaded, trying to keep your voice light and engaging.

Determined to keep your promise, you stood up and gave the camera a slow, dramatic pan around the room. “Here’s the room tour,” you said with a laugh, showing off the wall decorations and your modest setup.

The comments exploded with praise:

StarGazer88 : The room looks fantastic! Love the vibe!

YourMom69 : It's so cute! You’ve done a great job!

Spiceman420 : Looks pretty barren, Princess.

The last comment caught your eye. You hesitated, then decided to address it directly. “Oh, I actually just moved in and this place was bigger than I expected,” you fibbed with a smile, trying to keep the tone light and engaging.

More questions and compliments came in, many of them asking where you were from and remarking on how sweet you seemed despite your self proclaimed bratty persona. “We’ll see about that,” you joked, winking at the camera. “Thank you all so much for the support! I’m so grateful.”

You yawned prettily behind your hand, then blew a kiss to the camera. “Thanks for joining me tonight. I’m going to call it in. See you all soon!” 

After ending the stream, you took a refreshing shower to wash off the sweat and exhaustion. As you checked your phone, you saw a notification of a $5,000 check from Spiceman420, accompanied by a personal message: 

“For your new apartment, Princess.”

You stared at the screen, feeling a mix of disbelief and gratitude. The generous gesture was overwhelming, and you found yourself on the verge of tears once more. You quickly sent a photo of your hands forming a heart symbol, adding a simple “Thank you so much” in your message.

The read receipt confirmed that Spiceman420 had seen your reply, but there was no immediate response. You sighed, feeling a bit of relief. The money would go a long way in securing your new place and starting fresh.

With a hopeful heart, you settled into your new routine, feeling a bit more secure in your journey forward. The night had been a whirlwind, but the unexpected support and the small victories kept you moving forward.

Bakugou sat slumped in a velvet armchair, his fingers scrolling lazily through his phone as the club buzzed with life around him. The low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter from his fellow pros filled the air, but it all washed over him like background noise. He was here because he’d been dragged along—again. Designated driver, the role he always got stuck with because everyone else wanted to get plastered and he didn’t trust those dumbasses after what happened the first time.

He stifled a sigh, his eyes narrowing in disdain at the scene unfolding around him. A couple of bikini baristas were eyeing him from across the bar, giggling and whispering to each other, clearly trying to muster the courage to approach him. He didn’t even bother looking up, though; he knew exactly how it would go. One of them would sidle up to him, all flirty smiles and batting eyelashes, and then he’d spend the next few hours scrubbing glitter and body spray off his skin because she’d gotten too handsy. It was more trouble than it was worth.

And to top it all off, his favorite performer wasn’t even here tonight. That had been the one thing he’d looked forward to—seeing her. The first time he’d stumbled upon her had been a total accident, courtesy of Denki, who’d practically shoved him into that private room with an exasperated “Loosen up, dude!” And honestly? Bakugou had been pissed at first, but then she started dancing. It wasn’t even sexual as it was…. almost romantic? It felt personal, like she was performing for just him after a long day. Like it was only the both of them in that warm darkness. 

There was something about her. She never asked personal questions, never tried to flirt or tease like the others. She just danced, with an almost ethereal grace, and then she was gone, leaving him in peace. He didn’t know why, but he found that comforting. Maybe it was because she didn’t try to pry into his life, or maybe it was because he could just sit there, unwind, and not have to deal with anyone’s expectations.

Maybe it was because his mouth didn’t get in the way for once. 

He didn’t ask to see her up close, though. He knew that would break the illusion, the little bubble of escapism he’d found himself enjoying. Did he want a relationship? Sometimes the thought crossed his mind, but between his career, the press constantly hounding him, and his deep-seated distrust of people in general, he couldn’t be bothered. 

He was scrolling through his phone, bored out of his mind, when he overheard a couple of other pros talking about some app. Something about it caught his attention, just enough to make him curious. He quickly made up a bullshit username and started browsing. 

That’s when he found her. He paused, thumb hovering over the screen as he watched the live stream. It was her—it had to be. The dance routine was so familiar, almost muscle memory to him by now. His heartbeat quickened as he watched, and before he knew it, he’d hit the subscribe button. He hadn’t bought the premium subscription to see the pics or videos on her profile yet. No, he wanted to save that for later. 

Then he didn’t even think twice before tipping the $500, his fingers moving on instinct. Katuski wasn’t sure why he’d done it, but when she thanked him personally, her voice soft and warm, he felt something in his chest tighten. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, refusing to let his face betray how flustered he felt.

Fuck, he was blushing. In public, no less. 

She showed off her room then, clearly just set up, and Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a pang of something like sympathy. So that’s why she wasn’t at the club—she was busy moving in. It made sense now. He found himself feeling oddly moved by her situation, enough to make him send her more money without really thinking about it.

He slumped further into the chair, his mind racing. What was he even doing? He was the number two pro hero in Japan. He’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted, and yet here he was, sitting in a strip club, feeling lost and bored out of his mind. He had everything he could ever want, and yet... now what? 

Bakugou’s gaze flicked back to his phone. The notification from her stream still lingered on the screen, a reminder of the strange connection he formed in his mind. Maybe that was the answer he’d been searching for—something new, something different. Something that wasn’t tied to being a hero. 

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but for once, he didn’t mind not having all the answers. He’d just see where this path took him.

And then he saw your message.

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

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, If you wanna be added lemme know!

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account. Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 3 is here

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[notpama]

Bakugou drawing! Honestly I really disliked Bakugou before, but the arc with the battle and all literally made me change my opinion. I tried to show those little sparkle things he had in his fight I hope that shows through, anyway happy not-really- deathaversary (◞‸◟)

[pixeldemonia]

MHA heroic animals: Bakudog & Kurobat

Katsuki is a rabid chihuahua and I am a bat 🐾

I wanted to do this for months but just got the courage to try it yesterday, it's my second attempt at drawing in bones art style, it feels kinda weird cause it's so simple compared to my usual coloring styles but I'm happy enough with the result 💕

[thatlotuscookie]

hello, what about dabi x reader when she was sad after a mission and went to sleep in a bad mood and he decides to make breakfast for her, and even though he knows absolutely nothing he watches videos how to prepare breakfast and he does it and seeing how much effort he put in it and how he cares for her reader os so comforted and happy 😊 also great full that he didn't set her kitchen on fire😁 and then she tries it and it's actually good❤️just something soft and cute

✧･ﾟ: a/n : hey there! Thanks for the lovely request! I had a great time writing this, It was SO sweet to explore his caring side and see him step out of his comfort zone to make breakfast for you. I hope you enjoy <3

✧ Title: ✧ Breakfast for the Heart ✧ ✧ Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Fluff, Comfort ✧ Rating: G ✧ Summary: After a tough mission leaves you feeling emotionally drained, you retreat to your room to recover. Noticing your distress, Dabi takes it upon himself to cheer you up by making breakfast, despite his lack of cooking skills. ✧ Content/Tags: Soft!Dabi, Emotional Support, Breakfast, Comfort, Dabi panicking slightly (he wants to impress you so bad), DABI DETERMINATION ASWELL :p ✧ WC: 1040 words // 5.7k chars

The night had been rough, a brutal mission that left you feeling drained and emotionally battered. You were used to the chaos of being part of the League of Villains, but sometimes it weighed heavily on your heart. After a heated confrontation with some pro heroes, you found yourself retreating to your room, your mood darker than usual.

You flopped onto your bed, pulling the covers over your head, hoping sleep would take you away from it all. Dabi, always the observant one, sensed your distress. He’d been quietly leaning against the wall outside your room, hands tucked into his pockets, feeling the tension radiating off you. It bothered him to see you upset, even if he didn’t always know how to express it.

Once you drifted off, Dabi made a decision. He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and even though cooking was not his strong suit, he was determined to make you breakfast in the morning. Maybe it would help lift your spirits. He quietly tiptoed to the kitchen, the glow of his resolve brightening the dim space.

With the faint light of his phone illuminating the dark kitchen, he began his mission. This time, he decided on something more elaborate: pancakes and an omelet. He pulled up some videos, and as he scrolled through the tutorials, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. Cooking was usually left to the others in the hideout, but he didn’t care. You deserved this.

Dabi gathered the ingredients—flour, eggs, milk, cheese, and some vegetables for the omelet. He took a deep breath, trying to suppress his nerves, and began following the steps on his phone.

As he mixed the pancake batter, he found himself cursing under his breath as the flour poofed everywhere, dusting the counters and himself in a fine white cloud. “Great start, Dabi,” he muttered, shaking his head at his own clumsiness. But he pressed on, determined to make this work.

Next up was the omelet. He chopped the vegetables, trying to keep his fingers out of harm's way while he fumbled with the knife. He glanced at the pan heating on the stove, and his heart raced. “This has to be perfect,” he thought, feeling the weight of the challenge.

Dabi poured the omelet mixture into the pan, watching it cook. He flipped it carefully, trying not to mess it up. A few bits slid off the side, but he managed to salvage most of it. “Not bad for a first-timer,” he said to himself, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.

Finally, the pancakes were ready to be cooked. Dabi poured the batter onto the skillet, watching as they bubbled and rose. He could feel the adrenaline pumping; each flip was a small victory. After what felt like an eternity, he had a small stack of pancakes and a colorful omelet, plated with a side of fresh fruit he found in the fridge.

With everything set, he glanced around the kitchen, noting the slight mess he’d made. “At least I didn’t set anything on fire,” he muttered, feeling a swell of pride. He grabbed the tray and made his way to your room, balancing the breakfast with a newfound confidence.

As he pushed the door open, he was greeted by the sight of you still asleep, a peaceful expression on your face. Dabi set the tray down carefully and leaned closer, brushing a gentle hand through your hair. You stirred, blinking sleepily at him, and he couldn’t help but smirk.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice low and warm. “I made you breakfast.”

You rubbed your eyes, taking in the tray. “You what?” Your voice was still thick with sleep, disbelief flickering across your features.

“I made pancakes and an omelet,” he said, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the hint of pride in his tone. “Figured you could use it.”

Your heart swelled at the effort he’d put in. “You made breakfast? For me?” You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a flutter of happiness.

“Yeah, but don’t get used to it,” he added, crossing his arms as if to downplay his accomplishment.

You sat up, gazing at the beautifully plated food in awe. “Dabi, this looks amazing!”

“Just try it,” he said, watching you closely as you picked up the fork. You took a bite of the omelet first, surprised at how fluffy and flavorful it was. “Whoa, this is really good!” you exclaimed, your eyes lighting up.

Dabi’s smirk turned into a grin as he watched you enjoy the food. You moved on to the pancakes, taking a forkful and savoring the taste. “Seriously, Dabi. You did a great job!”

“I watched a few videos,” he admitted, feeling a warmth creep into his cheeks. “It wasn’t that hard.”

You giggled, a sound that made his heart race. “Not that hard? This is impressive for someone who usually avoids the kitchen!”

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to make you feel better,” he said, his voice softening.

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. “Thank you. This really means a lot to me,” you said, your tone earnest.

“Good,” he replied, a hint of shyness creeping in. “You don’t have to feel down all the time, you know. You have me to take care of you.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingers. “I really appreciate it, Dabi. You’re the best.”

He looked down, slightly embarrassed but also relieved, and you could see how much it meant to him. “Just don’t expect me to make this a regular thing,” he muttered, but the smile on his face betrayed his true feelings.

“Even if it’s not, I’ll cherish this moment,” you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. Dabi’s breath hitched, and he felt a rush of warmth flood his chest.

As you finished your breakfast, the heaviness of the previous night faded away, replaced by warmth and comfort. In that moment, you knew that no matter how tough the world got, you could always count on Dabi to be there for you in his own unique way.

[slutforsnow]

U.A. High's Reaper

Word count: 1,504

Warnings: none!

Chapter 2

The car ride from the station to U.A. High was long and dreadful as the sun beat down on the windows of the police cruiser. It burned like hell, but she didn't mind it. It made her feel more awake. More alert in the new area just like how her real brother taught her.

'Always stay vigilant, no matter what.' That's what he always said. The peaceful silence that she was enjoying was soon interrupted when her legal guardian, though probably better put as parole officer, chief of police Tsukauchi cleared his throat.

"We're almost there, kid. Are you excited to finally go to U.A. after purposely getting expelled from the other hero academies you were accepted into?" He inquired, glancing towards her as he continued to drive.

"Being excited over something as minimal as going to a hero academy is pointless. I deserve to be in that building and you know that, Tsukauchi," She told him flatly and rolled her eyes, though knowing he couldn't see her commit the action. "Whoever got expelled, however, had good timing, I will admit."

"Ya know, a simple yeah or nod would've been sufficient," The officer commented, parking in front of the gate to the famous U.A. High. The 4 pillars of the high school stood tall, gleaming in the morning sun and almost blinding anyone who looked at the building for too long. This was it. The best hero academy the world had. It couldn't compare to the other hero schools, no matter the country. U.A. produced the Symbol of Peace, All Might himself. Just by All Might's presence alone, Japan's crime rate was down to 6%. It was miraculously low, compared to other countries like the United States of America; their crime rate was 20% and other places were even worse than that, especially the Middle East.

Following Tsukauchi's footsteps, Koton glanced around the entrance of it.

Nicely trimmed trees, very cared for concrete path and archways leading into the building. It almost reminded her of home. Almost. Not quite.

Sakura blossoms flew in the air as he led her to the principal's office, up the endless amount of stairs. As they traveled through the halls, Koton focused on the windows, watching the police cruiser down below until it turned into a teeny tiny spec and disappeared soon after.

"This could've been done faster if I could use my Quirk," She commented snidely, glaring at the older man's back.

"You can't do that, Shimura, you know that. You don't have your provisional license," He began, turning to face her as they got closer to the principal's office.

"But we're standing on U.A. property," She countered before he could finish. "Quirks are allowed to be used on any hero academy campus.”

“If I was your parent, you'd be grounded,” *Tsukauchi muttered with a sigh as he led her into Principal Nezu's office.

“Welcome, welcome Ms. Shimura!! My, it certainly is funny to see you here after getting denied!! I'm your new principal, Nezu!” The small white mouse said cheerfully. Koton raised an eyebrow at him as he waited for a response.

“Are you always cheerful this early in the morning?” She remarked snarkily.

“Oh for God's sake- Shimura, let me do the talking,” Tsukauchi grumbled, taking a hold of the conversation with Principal Nezu. A few minutes went by of hushed speaking before Nezu sent her off, giving her directions to her new class after informing her that her teachers had been informed of her 504 plan.

Koton walked out into the hallway, without bidding Tsukauchi a goodbye, before shutting the door and side-stepping into the shadows, fading into them before appearing in the hall where some of the main classes for first years were. Walking down the hall, looking at the doors, she stopped in front of 1-A. Rotating her left shoulder until she heard the normal crack, she sighed.

“They better not be some weakling. I don't have the time nor energy for this.” The dual-haired 15 year old blew her hair out of the left side of her face, blinking strands out of her eye and then slid the door open and entered it, earning stares from Class A.

“Oh, there you are. Class, this is your new classmate, Koton Shimura. She'll be replacing Mineta,” a disheveled raven-haired man said, facing his students as she stood in front of the board. “Go ahead and explain your Quirk then take your seat behind Midoriya.”

Giving the homeless-looking teacher a curt nod, Koton spoke.

“My Quirk is called Shadow Destroyer. I can manipulate the shadows into anything i want; a scythe or copy of a book for example, travel between shadows, make shadows creatures like shadow cats or raise dead ones,” *She bluntly told them, earning a few stares of shock. Expected. Not everyone in a super human society were big fans of heteromorphs or Quirks that seemed ‘creepy’. Not everyone in this current society had the innocent and childlike thinking of ‘wow!! That's so cool!! Can you show me?’ No. People had to be judgemental. Some of her new classmates seemed intrigued, but also a little scared at the idea of raising a dead animal.

Taking her seat behind Midoriya, she caught a glance of his notebook where he was scribbling down notes about her Quirk with little questions and theories about it. That was what gave her a sliver of hope in this world. The genuine curiosity that so very few had nowadays.

Once Mr. Aizawa left the classroom in the hands of his co-worker, Present Mic, Koton slid on her black headphones to muffle out his voice. He was too loud; it was excruciatingly agonizing to listen to him teach English. What an awful day to have auditory issues. Throughout the mornings classes, Koton kept quiet, taking notes and answering the questions when she was called on occasionally with an eye roll or scoff because she didn't want to answer or speak with these others like she was their equal. She was above them. A lord amongst them… and she'd make that known. No matter how hard she had to work to be seen as that.

When Midnight dismissed the class students for lunch, she reminded them to train extra hard during training for the Sports Festival which perked Koton's interest.

‘The Sports Festival? What in the name of Tartarus is that?’ Koton thought, tilting her head to the side. She grabbed her messenger bag, leaving the classroom and following Midnight until she was close enough to shout her name. “Ms. Midnight-!!”

“Oh? What is it, Shimura? Did you have a question about the homework?” The r-rated hero asked, smiling softly and happy to see her new & disinterested seeming student asking questions. Koton shook her head no.

“No, not the homework. The Sports Festival; what exactly is that?” She asked, confusion and interest lacing her words.

“Ahh, I forgot you were raised… differently. Well, the Sports Festival is a chance for the U.A. students to show off their skills in different battles and such to get internships all across Japan with different pros for about a week. Give you kids a taste of the real world as heroes for a week and come back to use what you learned going forward,” Midnight explained, leaning on the wall facing Koton who took in the information with a slow nod.

“But isn't that… kind of redundant? We're being trained to fight villains and to participate in that will just show villains what we can do and gives them time to exploit our weakness,” the younger pressed, finding the whole idea to be stupid. “Yeah, it's cool and a way to get scouted and recruited by pro heroes, but doesn't that also give villains a leverage because they'll know on a surface level how our Quirks work when we won't know there's? Like with the Hero Killer; he's taken out a lot of pretty good pros. It'd make more sense for the festival to not be broadcasted and instead be recorded and a copy given for every student to take home and review the footage with their families on a CD or something.”

Midnight nodded sadly, understanding her new pupils point of view. “It does, unfortunately, but no one's been willing to do that or at least attempt to change the way it's done. But… I do think that may change when you graduate, Shimura, you've got a good head on your shoulders. Others are excited for the Sports Festival but no one recognizes the dangers. You do,” the pro replied with a proud nod.

Koton smiled internally but nodded and stood up a bit straighter. “Thanks, Ms. Midnight.”

Bidding her a farewell, Koton made her way to the cafeteria to eat and make plans for training. She'd do it alone, of course, as she couldn't risk anyone else seeing her Quirk in action just yet. That could wait. They'd see what she could do after this wretched festival.