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#i hate bakugo
uravichii · 1 year
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bakugo katsuki vs physical intimacy
genre: fluFFFF and a tad angst (it's literally just katsuki being scared of accidentally blowing you up when he initiates physical affection 🗿)
notes: kind of hate this but hey i finally remembered the headcanon 🧍‍♀️ also is it rly a fic in bakugo's pov if he's not randomly bashing kaminari's whole existence 🤩⁉️⁉️
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my number 1 headcanon for bakugo katsuki is that, no matter how amazing and invincible he claims himself to be, is a total loser against physical intimacy.
i mean we've all seen him literally kick the soul out of jirou to protect her when he could literally just,, maybe shove her out of the way? 😭
it's even worse when it's with you, the person who matters the most to him.
he doesn't know how your friends find it so easy to latch onto you like it's nothing. he'd find tsuyu and uraraka linking arms with you in the hallway, ashido draping her arms around you and sweetly resting her chin on your shoulderー god, he wishes he could do the same, and then he sees kaminari shamelessly resting his elbow on your head with that stupid, cocky grin on his face as if he's not in contact with only the most beautiful, godsent being that is you.
meanwhile, bakugo katsuki, your boyfriend, jolts back when your pinky grazes the back of his hand. he retracts it, puts his hand in his pocket and doesn't say a word despite the sharp twist in his chest when he catches the despondent look on your face.
katsuki doesn't let you clasp your hand around his arm like other couples doー he gets way too flustered and has no idea how to hide that. so when you start getting tired of walking and need some kind of a leverage in case your legs give out, he tells you, "don't fall, dumbass. just grab onto my shirt" you comply with a smile.
occasionally, he'd feel the slight tug of his shirt when his pace gets too fast. he looks back, "oi, everything okay?" the whole time there's not a single contact where skin meets skin, and yet inside it makes him giddy all the same.
katsuki can't place a hand on your shoulder and smoothly bring you over to the safer side of the sidewalk. instead, he yanks the strap of your bag until you stumble over to the other side, quickly grabbing your elbow so you don't collapse and end up breaking a bone or two. (he doesn't shy away from touching you if it's to protect you.)
"thanks?" you say, genuinely confused by the chivalrous (?) gesture that literally could've knocked you down on the rough asphalt if it weren't for his quick reflexes.
"you're welcome." he shrugs.
bakugo katsuki finds hugging and hand-holding the scariest.
he tries though, but it's less like holding your hand and more like hovering it over yours. katsuki doesn't underestimate his strength and in turn, his potential to hurt you somehowー that he is deathly afraid of.
a single brush of your skin against his sends a spark across his whole body and has his stupid heart pounding hard in his chest until it hurtsー what more if he has to cradle your perfect, soft and supple hand with his rough and constantly sweaty ones, calloused and marred with scars. do they gross you out? what if he accidentally blows up your hand?
what more if you so badly want to be held by him, and he can't bring himself to refuse you? he has to embrace your smaller frame, press his body onto yoursー fuck, can you feel his heart racing? did you catch the hitch in his breath when you buried your face into his chest? where does he place his hands? is he squeezing your waist too much? is he hurting you?
how does he train himself to be soft and hold you delicately with vile hands that were carved only to be brandished and a body that has only known how to struggle and strike, to launch an attack and then brace for one?
don't get him wrong though, he bakugo katsuki wants to hold you, and he most certainly wants to be held by you.
you slowly loll your head to the side until it comes in contact with katsuki's shoulder, the static rumble of the bus slowly coaxing you to sleep.
he doesn't retract nor pushes your head off (thankfully), but he does flinch a little and completely tenses up.
"sorry. i know you hate this, but the window hurts my head." you mutter sleepily. "i like your shoulder much better."
he clenches his jaw. he hates that you have to be sorry for touching your boyfriend.
"idiot. i don't hate it." he grumbles.
you raise your head to look at him, dumbfounded.
"you don't have to look so shocked." he pushes your face away from him, as gently as he can, careful not to actually hurt you. he's relieved when you only chuckle in response.
"all that touching stuffー" he continues, "'m just not good at all that shit."
you squeeze his hand and smile softly. "well i am." you press a chaste kiss on the back of his hand before settling your cheek in his palm. as always, his chest starts to acheー in a good way at least, he thinks. you're the only thing in this world he'll allow his heart to be battered by.
"oi, do you want your face to explode or something?"
you close your eyes and nuzzle your nose into his palm. "you'll patch me up afterwards, won't you?"
katsuki, trying his absolute hardest to get over his nerves, shifts his large hand until it wraps itself around the side of your neck, now caressing your jaw. he pulls you closer until his forehead touches on yours.
"you're fucking insane." he whispers.
when he kisses you, it's nothing like what you'd expect from the bakugo katsuki. it's delicate, agonizingly slow and almost unsure, as if he's asking for permission, and of course you permit him. you lock your lips with his, press them deeper until it earns a low hum from katsuki, and you let your lips say, 'yes, yes, yes. you absolutely can.'
"see? it's not so bad." you grin.
no, it's not. it never was.
when you settle your head back on his shoulder, he watches furtively as sleep washes over you. the adorable contentment in your face, the slight part of your lips, the way your head would repeatedly slide off and he has to gently prop it back on his shoulder every time, all the while he stifles a smile of adorationー bakugo katsuki realizes that there are much scarier things in the world than this, and he swears to shield you from every one of them.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months
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katsuki still apologizes to you the same way he used to when you were kids.
he always makes a face whenever he knows he’s gone too far or when he’s done something he knows he shouldn’t have, his eyebrows are furrowed and his little chubby face contorts into a sad little pout. he tries to look tough but he can already feel guilty tears in his eyes so he looks away from you, little hands balled into fists at his sides and his head hangs low so you can’t see his red face through his bangs.
usually, he tries making it up to you by showing you something he thinks you’ll like or something he finds cool, and sometimes he’ll even let you hold his precious all might card, but only when he knows he really messed up. he’ll stiffly pet your head as an apology for pulling at your hair a little too hard earlier and if you ask him to he’ll kiss the pain away from when you scrapped your knee because he accidentally shoved you a little harder than he meant to when he was chasing you around.
but when you’re mad at him because he’s been really mean, in ways he knows his shiny holographic all might card won’t fix, he opts to simply sit next to you. with a little pout on his face and with his cheeks turning red, he’ll shove his head into your shoulder. he holds onto you tightly so he’s sure you won’t be able to escape him or his apology. you squirm around a little bit but he doesn’t let you go. you stop moving around but you still huff at him, calling him a big meanie. all he does in response is shoving his head against your shoulder and he mutters out a little "m’sorry." against it.
he hears you shuffle to look at him and he looks up at you, his eyebrows are still furrowed and his cheeks are so red because he’s really not used to apologizing and he doesn’t like to, but he does for you. and even at the tender age of seven, you really can’t stay mad at him when he looks like that, so you forgive him and you’ve already forgotten what you were even mad about when he grins at you boyishly, already back to his usual self as he drags you off to your next adventure who knows where, but even at the tender age of seven, you knew you’d follow him to the ends of the earth as long as he led the way.
he’s changed so much and not at all at the same time. he hates it whenever you get mad at him and he still does everything and anything to get your attention when you are. and just like before, whenever he hurts you in ways he knows his actions can’t fix, he opts to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your middle loosely, giving you the option to break out of his hold if you wanted to. his hold on you slowly tightens when you make no move to, his head is shoved into the crook of your neck and his chest is pressed flush against your back,“ i’m sorry.” he whispers.
it wouldn’t mean much if it came from anyone else but this is katsuki. you’ve known him for as long as you can remember, you know how he is : he’s unruly, headstrong and so stubborn it drives you crazy sometimes. but he casts all of that—all of him aside for you.
“i’m sorry.” he says again, his voice is low and a little shaky.“ shouldn’t have said all that to you. that wasn’t…cool” he fumbles around for the right words to say and you have to hold back a laugh as he does so, but you can tell he’s trying.“never wanna make ya mad at me..” he finishes quietly. he’s fiddling around with the ends of your shirt waiting for your response. then he hears you shuffle around to peek at him and he looks up at you.
he really hasn’t changed. he’s still got the same little frown, the same little crease between his brows and the same rosy cheeks. sure his features are less rounded, his cheeks are definitely less chubby, he’s gotten taller but he’s still your same katsuki who’s a little rough and a big meanie sometimes, but who also always makes sure to apologize to you when he knows he’s hurt you because that’s the last thing he wants.
you grant him a tiny smile. his eyes light up and he stands a little straighter and after a second he’s on you, pressing kisses all over your cheek, grinning boyishly at you and you still want to follow him to the ends of the world as long as he’s leading the way.
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hiphopcherrrypop · 20 days
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something sowmthing the kageyama brothers + their blue eyed weirdboys
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nottspocket · 1 year
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The girls are flirtinggggggg
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theloveinc · 9 months
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I also like the idea of Bakugo coming home from a long, overseas mission only for you to be surprised when you meet him at the airport cuz he’s twice as beefy and four times more scary looking.
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bakubunny · 5 months
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i hate the fact that this exists but here we are. there’s more where this came from and if this goes over well, maybe i’ll do more and add the tag list next time to give all my tag gremlins direct delivery of the 🤡 you’re about to read.
thx for the brainrot encouragement @i-literally-cant-with-this @sluttyshigaraki @dcsiremc. 🙄
tw: daddy!bkg, f!reader, piss play, daddy kink, aged up characters, overuse of titles & pet names, pet names: princess, baby, babygirl, angel, pretty girl, little girl
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you’re coping an attitude.
katsuki says, “you’re such a pissy little girl today.”
it makes you blush, and of course he notices. katsuki grins a little as he traps you against the counter with his towering frame. he leans down to kiss your neck. “is that what you need, princess? want me to make you feel special?”
your cheeks redden. “no. can you stop? i’m about to make your dinner, asshole.”
his hands are under your shirt (his shirt), groping your bare tits. “fuck dinner, it can wait. i know what you need.”
: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :
you end up on your knees, naked in front of him. every inch of you feels hot and embarrassed.
katsuki unzips his pants and frees his soft cock. “sit still, babygirl.”
you close your eyes just before a warm stream hits your face and it makes you whimper, heat rushing to your cunt as his piss runs down your face, your body, and onto the floor. it’s a lot; katsuki drinks a ton of water even on his days off, and you hate how wet your pussy is getting as the stream doesn’t stop. when he’s finally done, he pulls your head back by the hair and forces you to look at him. his crimson gaze is slightly mischievous and affectionate. katsuki grins when he sees your eyes all hazy with need. his cock comes to life in his hand as he strokes it.
katsuki slaps you face with his half hard dick. “look at you, daddy’s pissy little baby. you look so pretty, angel.”
“thank you, daddy,” you reply, a shiver running down your neck.
“you want daddy’s cock, baby?” he says
you nod eagerly. your cunt throbs looking up at him.
“that’s my girl. open up that pretty little mouth, princess.”
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myoswu · 7 months
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Weeeeeeee
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moxiepoxart · 2 months
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That time I got drunk and somehow made this and it’s somehow better than anything I’ve ever done?
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rukunas · 2 years
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warning: most cringe, vomit-inducing drabble i’ve ever written. but it’s also cute and has been marinating in my drafts so here. gn.
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“katsuki.”
nothing.
“katsuki.”
“what?” he grumbles deep in his chest as you press your cold feet against his legs, jarring him awake. “what’s wrong?”
“i heard a noise.”
he blearily opens his eyes, narrowing down to look at you. “a noise?”
“yes!” you shake his arm, making him groan. “i swear, there’s someone downstairs.”
“baby, no one is there. promise. let’s sleep.”
“i’m scared.” you whine. “can’t you go check?”
katsuki huffs, pulling his covers tight around his body. “the last time you said there was a noise, there was no one there. and the time before that. and the time before—”
“okay, okay! but this time i swear—”
“woman—” he starts to taunt.
“if you truly love me, you’ll go look.”
“fuckin’ hell—”
a crash echoes downstairs. immediately, you stiffen and bakugo pulls himself up out of bed and into a fighting stance, palms facing the door.”
“get in the bathroom and lock the door. now.” he says sternly, a voice that he’s never used with you before and it only makes you more scared. you find that you can’t move, frozen in fear.
“y/n, listen to me—”
the door opens. katsuki immediately lifts his arm, explosion ready—
“surpri— ah!”
kirishima, kaminari, mina, and sero stand in front of the door, holding a cake (held upside down by kaminari) that reads, congrats #1 hero!
“what the fuck?” the so-called-#1-hero growls, still seething.
“the new ranking dropped an hour ago! you passed deku by 0.2% in the popularity votes!” kirishima beams. “it was all y/n’s idea, really.”
bakugo stares at you in disbelief, anger immediately dissipating as his eyes soften. you simply giggle, flouncing towards him to wrap your arms around his neck. “congrats, baby. thanks for being my hero.”
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months
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katsuki likes to bite you. it’s his weird way of showing you affection. whenever he feels like annoying you (because he can’t live for more than ten seconds if he’s not being a nuisance) but he also wants to you to know he cares, he’ll find whatever part of your skin is exposed and just—bite.
you don’t remember when he started doing it but you’ve never stopped him so he hasn’t stopped. he bites your exposed shoulder when hes walking by and your lounging in the living area of the dorms, he grabs your hand and bites at your fingers when you’re alone and he bites at your cheeks and nose when you get mad at him for ‘being mean’ and teasing you. to which he always replies with “you love it.”
“why do you do that ?” you asked randomly after he bit your cheek again while you were watching a movie in his room. he looks down at you and his brows furrow in confusion “ do what ?” he asks.
“ bite me,” you play with the ends of his hair a little, it’s been getting longer and he’ll complain about it soon(the only reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you said it looked good on him) “ why do you that ?” he goes quiet for a moment, gauging to see if you were upset, was it suddenly bothering you ?
he frowns. lips already unconsciously forming into a pout when he speaks “ ya don’t like it when i do ?” he tries to sound self assured, but his question comes out whiny. you smile lightly at him, nosing at the underside of his jaw. “it’s not that, dummy. just wonder why you do it.”
his nose scrunches at the nickname but he pays it no further mind. he huffs out a little breath and looks away from you towards the tv screen, a pink tint grows on his cheeks. having to tell you why he does it suddenly makes him embarrassed.
“jus’ feel like it. f’ya don’t mind when i do it why’re you questioning me about it.” you feel his hand heat up from where he has it pressed against your stomach under your shirt, no doubt getting more and more embarrassed having to explain why he has this weird little habit.
you shrug, sighing and nuzzling into him a little more. you press a light peck to his neck and his hand heating up even more makes you smile “i don’t mind it, just never had anyone bite me before.”
“good” he huffs, suddenly pressing you closer to his side. a sudden rush of protectiveness washing over him “get used to it. m’the only one who’s gonna be doing that from now on, got that ?”
“alright” you giggle. you suddenly get an idea and you look up at him. “you wouldn’t mind it if i bit you, then ?” a teasing smirk appears on your face when he almost cracks his neck when looking down at you, wide eyed and cheeks absolutely set ablaze. he sputters and looks away, unable to keep eye contact as he looks to the screen again.
“knock yourself out.” he tries to sound indifferent but his voice cracks a little at the end of his sentence and he cranes his neck to the side a bit to give you more access. you don’t mention either. instead you lean closer to him and nip at his neck lightly. his hold on you tightens for a moment before loosening up slightly and he suddenly won’t look at you anymore. not even when you laugh and poke at his cheek, asking him what’s got him so red in the face. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are so laser focused on the tv you fear he might burn a hole through it. he offers you nothing more than a harsh glare and a muttered out “shush.”
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chandralia · 1 year
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me, getting my shipping goggles ripped off and forced to look at bkdk: NOOOOOOOOOOO—oh it’s exactly the same
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bluecurachan08 · 6 months
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Either fanfic writers are seers or Hori is writing plain ao3 scenes at this point.
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nottspocket · 11 months
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Mermaid AUs are so lovely to see. Are they childhood friends in yours, too?
Maybe, i imagine Katsuki has kept gifts Izuku might have brought to him. Seashells, or nice looking rocks, probably with a few fossils inside them?
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Ohoho I’m so glad you see my vision (prev here)
Ramblings in the tags
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lightseoul · 1 year
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asymptōtos
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synopsis. you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.
cw. fem!reader, student-turned-worker!reader, busy prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~22 yrs old), established relationship, fluff, hurt/(may or may not have) comfort
word count. 5.8k words
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The first time it happens, it leaves you more in a state of awe and adoration than worry and disappointment.
In your defense, you never thought you’d end up dating anyone in college, let alone during your very busy senior year marred by senioritis and thesis woes, but the universe decided it has other plans for you.
And so here you are, on your first date with the #2 Pro Hero, no less.
Of course, credit must be given where it is due. All of this wouldn’t have happened without the notorious meddler and your elementary best friend Ashido Mina, who took it upon herself to be Bakugou’s wing-woman during her housewarming party two weeks ago.
Not only did she serve as the pesky glue that resisted all of your attempts to stray away from Bakugou’s immediate circle, but she also later on confessed to having begged him not to delete your number that she not-so-sneakily saved in the man’s phone.
You got so embarrassed when you received your first text from him, imagining him being held at gunpoint by Mina just to send the darned message. You contemplated not replying to save the poor guy but decided against it. You’re glad you did, though, because he ended up surprising you with his responsiveness and consistency, resulting in daily texts until he finally asked you out on a date.
In a very roundabout way, too:
Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.
Which brings you to the present, post-said dinner, seated on one of the benches in a park you’ve never heard of until now, admiring the view.
“I’ve never done this before.”
Your head whips to look at Bakugou, surprised at his sudden statement. Things have been silent since you left the sushi restaurant.
Well, until now.
“What—go out on a date?” you joke, meaning to lighten the mood.
At that, he visibly reddens, and looks away.
“Dumbass,” he mutters under his breath.
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” you start, “I just thought—you being you—you’d have far more experience than I have.”
You can see him hesitating before looking you right in the eyes, “Wow.”
“What?”
He shrugs, “This is the first time someone’s referred to my being ‘me’ as a compliment.”
“Really?”
He merely gives you a firm nod. You can tell he’s trying to be cool about it, despite how much vulnerability this topic is requiring out of him.
You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, that’s bullshit.”
His voice is quiet when he replies. “...Ya think so?”
“Yeah,” you smile at him, “I mean, I like you. Being Bakugou Katsuki should make you proud.”
You don’t realize the carelessness of your comment until you see his eyes widen in shock. Yours follow suit upon realization, “I mean–”
“Yeah–”
“I didn’t–”
He interrupts, “Don’t worry. I get what ya mean.”
You could only stare at each other in astonishment until you look away in embarrassment.
Fuck.
You’re about to change the subject in the hopes of clearing the air and replacing the awkward silence that has befallen the two of you when you feel a feather of a touch graze your pinky.
You hold your breath in anticipation—willing your palm’s sweat glands to magically close in case Bakugou’s making a move to hold your hand—but that’s when it happens.
A piercing wail echoes throughout the park, and you both rip your hands away from each other.
Embarrassed (Bakugou), confused (you), and alarmed (both), you whip your heads towards the source, only to find a crying kid and who seems to be his father crouched down, frantically shushing him.
You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what’s the matter from your spot on the bench.
“Kid’s dumb cat got stuck in that tree,” Bakugou points with his right hand, and sure enough, an orange Tabby cat is perched comfortably on the sakura tree near where the kid and his father are standing.
How he managed to figure out the problem in a millisecond is beyond you, but you couldn’t spare a single moment to marvel at his hero senses because Bakugou’s now standing up, palms cracking with mini-explosions.
He sighs heavily, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was annoyed.
Whatever scowl he might’ve had on his face is schooled into a neutral expression when he turns back to tell you to give him a second.
You nod, too stunned to speak, and the explosions on his palms begin to heighten in degree. He starts toward the direction of the civilians, before hesitating in his steps.
“What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head, back still turned towards you.
“...For the record,” he looks up to the cat still balanced expertly on the tree’s branches, possibly to avoid your gaze for what he’s about to say next.
“I like you, too.”
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The second time it happens…is a bit different. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware this sort of thing was coming. On the contrary, you anticipated it, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into the moment you agreed to become Bakugou’s girlfriend.
But expecting and dress-rehearsing for pain doesn’t make it any less wounding once the actual thing does roll around.
It was your graduation day, and everything was going swimmingly. Bakugou got to officially introduce himself as your boyfriend to your parents while you were waiting for the ceremony to begin.
He didn’t want to admit it, but just by his body language alone, you could tell he was fucking nervous.
(Later on, during dinner, he’d whisper to you how he barely got any sleep the night before. Who was the one graduating between the two of you, again?)
Your parents’ reception of him was favorable, thanks to the briefer you gave them about his media presence not at all being an accurate depiction of the real thing. Your father tossed you a somewhat withering look after the encounter, but you chose to let it go. You weren’t going to let anyone rain on your parade today.
By all accounts, everything was going great. At the end of the program, everyone who you wanted to be present was there congratulating you, giving you bouquets of flowers, and taking pictures for remembrance’s sake.
After bidding goodbye to your college peers, you then headed to your favorite high-end restaurant to celebrate, where you sit now, listening in amusement as Bakugou gets grilled by your family and friends.
“So, Bakugou-san,” your mother continues, “what do you like about our Y/N?”
“Mom!”
Needless to say, you didn’t expect to be dragged into the grilling session.
Your mother only looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost your marbles. To your left, you can hear Bakugou snicker under his breath. You elbow his side in retaliation.
“What? You can’t expect me not to ask him that.”
“Yeah,” your cousin chimes in from the end of the elongated table, “we’re curious.”
You glare at her, “Shut it, C/N.”
“Y/N!,” your mother exclaims, “Don’t be rude.”
You could only pout in response while Bakugou clears his throat beside you, and you find yourself anticipating his response despite the circumstances.
“Well, she’s the most caring person I know,” he eyes you, and you can’t help but look away, feeling bashful under his gaze. “And is incredibly sharp, and she makes me feel understood and appreciated.”
Squeals and cheers erupt from the table, and you laugh in embarrassment at his words and everyone else’s reactions.
Bakugou pinches your thigh to catch your attention, “What?”
You snort, “You’re so cheesy.”
He smirks, “Says the one blushing.”
You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s sporting redness on his cheeks the same way he’s saying you are. You can’t help but grin in response.
The noise dies down upon hearing your father clear his throat, “Bakugou-san, what do you do for a living, again?”
You internally roll your eyes. On the outside, though, you look at Bakugou, who straightens his posture at your father’s questioning.
“I’m a Pro Hero, sir.”
Your father hums in acknowledgment, “You’re Pro Hero…Dynamight?”
“Yes, sir.”
Everyone’s silent as you watch the tense conversation unfold before you.
“You face a lot of danger in your line of work, then?”
Bakugou remains unwavering as he goes through the kind of questioning that would otherwise annoy him, “Yes, sir. But we’ve undergone extensive training and immersions to be able to handle them accordingly.”
This time, your father only grunts in reply, returning to his plate of Grilled Akita Beef Sirloin as if he hadn’t just interrogated a guy. In the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou deflate, from relief or disappointment, you can’t tell.
“Anyway, Bakugou-san,” your mother interjects in an attempt to salvage the conversation, “what’s it like having a job of a Pro Hero? Nobody in our family took that career path, you see.”
“Well, I—”
He barely gets two words out when All Might’s voice comes booming throughout the entire restaurant, and you see Bakugou lose his cool and scramble for his phone to turn it off. Everyone’s eyes are bugged out, probably reeling from the fact that the #2 Pro Hero has such a corny ringtone.
“Sorry,” he blurts out. You chance a peek at the caller ID, which reads ‘Deku’, and you look up to see the frustration in Bakugou’s eyes.
Despite yourself, a sense of worry settles in your stomach. Midoriya never calls Bakugou unless it’s something important, and he’d already been informed about Bakugou being MIA for tonight. Surely he’s not calling for nothing…
“Who was that?” Your mother asks.
Bakugou presses the lock button on his phone and pockets it. “Sorry—it was just a colleague,” he frowns, “I don’t know why they’re contacting me, I already filed a leave for today.”
“Well, if it’s nothing important, I guess we–”
The ringtone, once again, floods the entire room, but this time you urge him to take it as he tosses you and everyone else an apologetic look.
“Sorry. Please excuse me.”
With that, he stands up and heads towards the corner of the restaurant, leaving you with the rest of your family and friends in silence.
“He seems nice,” your cousin offers, and you shoot them a look of gratitude.
“Are you sure about him, Y/N?” your other cousin asks, and you can’t help but freeze upon hearing the question. “Dating a Pro Hero doesn’t seem like easy business.”
“I bet it isn’t,” your father adds gruffly.
You’re about to spit out the best defense in history when Bakugou rushes toward your side, although he doesn’t sit back down. You brace yourself for what’s about to come next.
“That was Pro Hero Deku—there’s been a sighting in the Chofu district of this high-profile villain we’ve been tracking down for weeks,” he fixes his gaze onto you, “And they need both top heroes on the field, ASAP.”
You spring onto your feet with no hesitation, “Okay, but be careful, Katsuki.”
He nods, “Of course.”
With that, he faces everyone else and bows, “I apologize for having to leave early. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”
He doesn’t wait for their responses, attention now shifted back to you.
“Congratulations again, Y/N. I’m sorry.”
You shake your head, forcing a smile on your face in the hopes of easing his worries. He bends down to kiss your forehead, shooting you an apologetic look before excusing himself for the last time and heading for the exit.
You hold onto that congenial smile plastered across your face as your eyes trace his disappearing figure. Once he’s gone, you go back to your seat and will yourself to meet the eyes of those around you.
You see the all-too-familiar worried look on your mother’s face, while your cousins and friends have their eyes down on their plates. Your father, on the other hand, has the same withering look he’s been wearing around you and Bakugou the entire day.
“I bet it isn’t,” your father mutters under his breath, but you heard him clearly.
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The third time it happens, it hits closer to home than you expect it to.
After a flurry of important firsts with Bakugou, as well as major life changes that have gotten you breaking down more often than you’d like to admit, your birthday finally rolls around.
As you’ve gotten older, birthdays have indubitably become more mundane. Nevertheless, you went ahead and took the day off of your new job as recruitment personnel in Mirko’s agency, not to celebrate it in crazy ways but in the hopes of spending the entirety of it at home with Bakugou.
Ever since you landed your first job, time spent with your boyfriend has become more and more negligible, with schedule conflicts and inflexibilities of work commitments barring you from seeing each other.
Today was no different.
You wake up to the scent of Bakugou and his citrus body soap, who, as per your request, spent the night prior in your apartment. When you reach out to his side of the bed, though, you’re met with cold emptiness, and your heart sinks in disappointment upon the realization that he’d left.
You at least wanted a good morning kiss for your birthday.
Half awake and reaching blindly for your phone, you bring it up to eye level and check your messages.
It’s only 9:07 AM and your inbox is already flooded with greetings, but none of them is Bakugou’s. Instead, the one text message from him reads:
Hey. Sorry I had to leave early, got some agency-wide meeting Shitty-hair and I are presiding today or something. See you when I get home.
Despite yourself, you deflate at his lack of acknowledgment of your birthday. You shake your head, feeling the ugly emotion of hurt creeping up your spine. Instead, you choose to focus on the fact that he just called your apartment home. Besides, he’s probably just busy right now, you think to yourself. He’ll remember later.
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He didn’t remember.
At least, as of 11:45 PM, he hasn’t.
You were still optimistic about things when the day started, going around the house—cleaning to soothe your racing mind, as well as opening the gifts your friends and family had sent to your apartment. By the time lunch rolled around, you had food delivered from your favorite restaurant, which you happily devoured while rewatching a comfort film.
Now and then, you’d thumb at your phone to check if Bakugou’s messaged you a greeting or an update, only to be met with messages and notifications that were the least of your concern.
You lost count of how many times you’ve sighed in discontent, restless for the moment he comes home and proves to you that he absolutely, positively, certainly, hasn’t forgotten.
But before you know it, it’s already 11:45 PM and he still hasn’t walked through your doorway—the last you’ve heard of him being the one text message he left you this morning.
You’re staring blankly at the dinner you’ve prepared for the two of you, devoid of any more expectations, when the door finally clicks open at 11:47 PM and he stumbles in, decked out in his hero costume and visibly exhausted.
“Oh, you’re still awake.”
He seems stunned to see you.
“Patrol went overtime,” he curtly explains as he toes off his boots, “I’m fucking beat.”
You only stare at him from your position on the couch, eyes following his figure as he marches towards the bedroom, possibly to wash off the day’s dirt and grime, barely sparing you a second glance.
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“Hey, babe,” Bakugou calls out from the bedroom, who, from the sounds and smell of it, has already come out of the shower.
You hear a rustling noise, “What’s with all these fuckin’ wrappers? Is it your birthday or some shi–”
He falls silent as realization dawns on him, and you shut your eyes in dreadful anticipation. Earlier, when you were still fired up with the day’s anger, you thought you could handle this confrontation (if he ever realized what day it was), but you might’ve overestimated yourself.
Because now, you’re on the couch, hugging your knees and feeling completely pathetic as you hear his footsteps get closer and louder.
Suddenly, your face to face with Bakugou Katsuki, who’s kneeling to peer at you.
And he looks absolutely guilty.
“Y/N, I am so sorry—”
You shake your head. That shuts him up.
“I’m not in the mood for apologies, Katsuki,” you start, “I’m—I’m not mad at you for not having prepared or set aside anything.”
Swallowing the ball in your throat, you press on, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I understand.”
He eagerly nods. You sniff to help hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out, and Bakugou’s hand shoots up to cradle your face in response.
You let him.
“I’m just…” you look down, unable to meet his eye, “disappointed, Katsuki.”
You will yourself to look at him again, “I figured you’d at least remember what today was.”
“Fuck,” he warbles, and now you’re both crying, “I’m sorry, princess. I…”
He trails off, and some twisted part of you is thankful for it. You already know what was going to come out of his mouth—either their staff was a pain in the ass today and he had to step in, or a villain came around to stir shit up, resulting in overtime and him not having the time or energy for anything else.
This way, he could spare both of you the excuses that have seemed to etch themselves onto the tapestry that is your relationship.
“Let me make it up to you,” he says instead.
You don’t know how he plans to do that, but at this point, you’re too tired and hurt to ask or fight back. You gingerly nod your head in agreement.
And with that, he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, all the while trailing soft, almost hesitant, kisses at the expanse of your neck.
He lays you down gently on the bed, and he climbs on top of you, hovering, until he has his forearms at both sides of your head.
You find yourself melting under the intensity of his loving, albeit guilty gaze.
“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Bakugou whispers, before diving in for a scalding kiss.
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And make it up to you, he did.
The day after your birthday, he files for a leave in his agency, as well as cashes in Mirko’s favor from when he saved her ass in a past mission together, successfully giving you an extra paid leave for the day.
He ends up taking you out to a fancy soba restaurant recommended by Todoroki, and to an exhibit you’ve been wanting to see for the longest time, but haven’t gotten around to due to the ungodly wait (thanks to his Pro Hero card, though, you were able to get special passes).
And, it was at the end of that art exhibit when Bakugou pulls you into a private room and tells you he loves you for the first time.
Needless to say, you were over the moon.
But as a great author once said, one can’t undo the pain one caused. One can only atone for it.
Despite yourself, a seed of unease takes shelter and grows inside of you.
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The fourth time it happens, it finally escalates into a full-blown fight.
It was a Saturday night, and you were enjoying a nice, stay-in dinner with Bakugou in his penthouse. By some miracle, he was able to take the night off despite the busyness that came with December and the looming holiday season.
“Stop staring at me,” he had said while expertly chopping the assortment of vegetables you bought fresh from the market earlier that day.
You grinned at him, “Not my fault you look sexy when you’re cooking.”
“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted, but there was no bite to it. If you knew any better, you’d say he was blushing. “Now come help me with this.”
And that, you did. More like fumbled around his luxurious kitchen while he took the lead, but you tried your best. Which brings you to now: you, seated across from Bakugou at his corner coffee table, overlooking the city skyline.
“Eat,” he commands.
You happily indulge him.
Scooping a spoonful of the imoni stew he graciously prepared for you, you bring it to your mouth, all the while not breaking eye contact.
“Mmmm!” you exclaim the second the flavors explode in your mouth, “this is so good!”
He only smirks in response, but you can tell he’s pleased with himself with the way his chest puffs up with pride, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”
You giggle at how his words juxtapose the way his tone sounds so smitten. Hastily chewing the cabbage, you regard him after you swallow, “Right, you said you wanted to tell me something?”
At that, he visibly stiffens, and your stomach drops, feeling a shot of dread replace the elation that’s been coursing through your blood ever since the night began.
“Yeah,” he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”
“Yes?” you mentally slap yourself at how nervous you sounded.
He looks you dead in the eye, “And I think it’s about time we move in together.”
You can’t believe your ears.
That’s not what you were expecting him to say.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he places his utensils back on the table, “Think about it, we’ve been dating for almost a year now, and my place is closer to the agency and Mirko’s.”
He shrugs, “And we rarely see each other these days. I figured we can solve that by having you move in with me.”
You try to laugh, but it comes out stilted, “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to move in with you, Katsuki.” At that, he deflates in what you think is relief.
“But I have to ask—what prompted this? We’ve never talked about living together before.”
He looks down at his clenched fists on the table, and you can’t help how your body tenses in anticipation of the worst.
“This has nothing to do with asking you to move in with me,” he starts, “but there’s another thing I have to tell you.”
Your voice comes out meek when you reply, “What is it?”
“I got chosen to go on a very important solo mission.”
What’s the caveat? your mind immediately conjures the thought. Instead, you say, “Really? That’s awesome, Kats. Congratulations!”
He flashes you a grim smile, “Thanks.”
You force yourself to smile back, chuckling, “But?”
At your utterance of the three-letter word, he sighs, smile now erased from his face, “It’s overseas. Estimated to take about two months.”
You stay silent, just staring at him. He takes this as a sign to drop the last bomb.
“It starts next week.”
At that, you spring onto your feet, “Seriously? Do you even know what you’re gonna miss?”
He follows suit, “Of course! Shit—I’m not a fucking idiot,” he looks to the side in frustration, “I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just pass up.”
The snarky rebut of ‘It actually is’ dies in your throat when the fact of how much being the best matters to Bakugou crosses your mind.
“...But you promised me you’d spend the holidays with my family.” Your tone is quiet now, in stark contrast to earlier. You don’t even get started on the two-month absence.
He huffs, “I know. But I—”
“I’m sorry Katsuki,” you look down in shame, unwilling to look him in the eye, “and I know this is unfair of me, but I just can’t help but feel like you’re choosing your career over me.”
“But this mission could possibly make me number one,” he pleads, “Over shitty Deku, Y/N.”
You can practically hear the pain in his voice when he murmurs the next few words: “Number one.”
You shake your head in resignation—you know where this is going. You’ve gone through the motions of these arguments a hundred times before.
You’re fighting a losing battle.
“I know.”
At your quiet affirmation of his reasoning, Bakugou circles the table and wraps his arms around you, albeit cautiously. Tightening his hold on you, he whispers a soft thank you, and you feel your heart clenching in pain at how awkward and distant he feels despite being so close to you.
You have the urge to ask him if he only asked you to move in with him to soften the blow of what he was going to say next, but you hold your tongue. The last thing you want is for you to go on your separate ways for two months while in the middle of a fight.
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You did end up going back to your hometown for the holidays, although with one less companion. Having to answer your family about Bakugou’s whereabouts was a huge pain, with you eventually resorting to terse responses the more times the question got reiterated.
Your family got so involved in the state of your relationship, with your father dropping I told you so’s ever so often that you finally decided you’ve had enough on the night of Christmas, and resolved to leave for Tokyō the next day.
You were planning to just spend the rest of the holidays in your apartment (you never got around to moving into Katsuki’s home), and wallow in your sadness over your relationship, but fortunately (or unfortunately), you ended up going out of your unit to spend New Year’s at Mina’s instead.
You note the profound role her persistence has played in your life.
Fast forward to now, with you having stepped out of the crowded party in her living room and onto the balcony, grateful for the cool, night breeze.
You hear the sliding door creak open behind you, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to see who it is.
Footsteps pitter-patter against the floor until you find Mina standing there at your right, uncharacteristically quiet.
You don’t want to hear any comforting words about Bakugou’s absence, so you speak ahead, “Thanks, Mina.”
Her head whips to look at you, and she smiles warmly, “For what?”
“For inviting me to celebrate here,” you will yourself to smile back, “I think I needed this.”
She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes you, “Of course. I—uh,”
She pauses, and you look over at her expectantly, “You what?”
She slowly lets you go and fully turns towards you, the ledge supporting her body weight as she leans into it. A serious expression now adorns her face.
“Just that…I’m not the one you should be thanking.”
You mirror her stance, facing her and narrowing your eyes, “What do you mean?”
She sighs, “Don’t tell him, but Bakugou’s actually the one who told me to check in on you.”
You take a step back from her in surprise (or hurt, you’re not sure—the emotions you’ve been feeling these days have been nothing but complex), but Mina’s quick to step forward and grab your hands, holding it in hers.
“He sounded really sorry about having to leave you alone for the holidays, you know.”
You feel the pinprick of tears at Mina’s words, bringing you to look down at your feet as a means of hiding your sadness from your best friend, even if you know that barely conceals how you’re feeling.
“Come here,” she ushers you in for a gentle embrace.
And you do.
You both stand there for what feels like an eternity, with her rubbing small circles on your back and you crying silently on her shoulder.
“He really loves you, you know,” she whispers, after a long pause, “Eiji and I have talked about it with the rest of our friends—we all agree how it’s practically clear as day.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, and allow yourself to bask in the gravity of Mina’s words.
“I know.”
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The fifth time it happens, you astound yourself with your lack of resistance.
While Bakugou was out in the US for his solo mission, you decided it was the perfect time to put in the extra effort in your own work.
Whether it was to make something of yourself or to distract yourself from the loneliness that came with Bakugou’s absence, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was you finally had something to work towards, and it felt good.
You’ve been eyeing this promotion to be the Recruitment Lead in Mirko’s hero agency for over three months now, with the deliberation process taking longer than you’d like, only for it to end with you falling short of the other candidate.
You clench your fists at the thought of having received the news earlier that day.
Insecure and dismayed, you’ve been waiting for Bakugou to come home so you can tell him about it. It’s gonna have to be a long story, seeing as you haven’t even gotten around to telling him about wanting the promotion in the first place. In anticipation of the conversation, you stocked up on his favorite snacks and drinks.
Finally, at 8:54 PM, you hear the lock open with a click.
You rush to the entryway of your now-shared home, and flash him an inviting smile, “Welcome home.”
He’s in his regular clothes, having stripped himself of the grime and dirt back in the agency. Good, you think to yourself, you’ll have more time with him like this.
You’re about to ask him if he’s eaten dinner and if he can spend the night talking when he practically, and unceremoniously, collapses on top of you.
You’re agile enough with your arms shooting up to help carry his body weight, clutching his waist and arm to keep you both steady.
“Katsuki?” you squeak.
He only burrows his nose in your neck and huffs, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Let’s go to bed, please?”
You can’t help but ache at the sight and sound of you Katsuki beaten to exhaustion like this. So, like the good partner that you are, you nod in affirmation and assist him as you walk to the bedroom, and help him out of his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.
Now lying on the bed and under the covers, he holds his arm out open for you.
His voice is low and rough: “C’mere.”
And you do.
You climb into bed next to him, settling into his side as a muscled arm drapes across your waist.
You look up at his face, and a part of you hopes his eyes are still open and twinkling with invitation.
For conversation. For intimacy.
For anything.
But you’re only met with the peaceful, sleeping face of your lover.
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That was the fifth time it happened.
And the last.
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“Is there any reason you dragged me out of my pajamas to come here at–,” he checks his phone, “8:14 PM?”
You ignore Bakugou’s incredulous question, choosing instead to look around the view of the park from the bench where you’re both seated.
You glance at him, all in his bedhead and glasses-wearing glory. He had a long day, as per usual, having arrived home thirty minutes after 7 PM, but you had to have this conversation sooner than later.
“You seriously don’t remember this place?”
“‘Course I do,” he says in a heartbeat. “This is where I took you out on your best first fucking date ever.”
You snort, “That was yours.”
He sits up and scowls at you, offended, “Fuck that shit. That was both of ours.”
You laugh, unable to tease him any longer, “It was. You even flexed your hero skills to me and all.”
He slinks back into the bench, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Damn straight.”
You roll your eyes, “Show off.”
He snickers, “Simp.”
You shake your head, trying to fight off the grin that’s spreading across your face. Now was not the time for flirty banter. Not with what you’re about to tell him…
“But really, though,” Bakugou pipes up after a few minutes of silence, “what’s up?”
You can tell he’s trying to sound more playful than he usually does. Still, there’s an air of tense anticipation surrounding the both of you, and it’s been there since you asked two weeks ago if he could clear out tonight’s schedule, as you had something important to say.
Here goes nothing.
You exhale, albeit quite shakily, and close your eyes.
“I can’t do this anymore, Katsuki. I’m sorry.”
Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his breath, visibly on guard.
Bakugou’s smart. You’re sure he knows what you’re talking about, if not because of his intelligence but of the way he gulps nervously, no matter how imperceptible that was.
But he still retorts with, “You can’t do what anymore?”
You gesture vaguely at the distance between the two of you. That’s only been growing in the past few months.
“This. Us.”
You heave in a deep, shaky breath, refusing to look at him. He takes your hand into his.
“I can’t bear it anymore. Forcing you to choose between your hero work and me.”
You chance a glance at your Katsuki, and he’s staring at you, eyes brimming with tears and with such intensity that knocks your breath away.
Still, you march on. You have to get this out of your system before you chicken out.
“It hurts me to make you choose. Especially knowing how much you love what you do and how much you’re needed by other people.”
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but you still end up choking, “But I need you, too, Kats.”
“And, I can’t keep on getting disappointed and hurt like this every time I don’t get chosen.”
At that, you finally let the tears you’ve been holding onto fall down your cheeks, “It’s all too much.”
A part of you still hoped he’d hop onto his feet in protest and beg for you to stay with him and proclaim how he’ll try harder, despite knowing, more or less, that no objections will pour out of his mouth.
True enough, Bakugou remains silent, like the tears that quietly drip down onto his clenched fists.
Because deep down, he knew.
He knew, from the very beginning.
Before he even decided to keep your number. Before he plucked up the courage to send you that first text. Before he sucked it up and asked you out on that first date.
He knew—that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t meet you halfway.
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tagging. @katsukis1wife
extra credits. katsuki's first date line (tweet). quote about atonement.
459 notes · View notes
bakubunny · 5 months
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twelve days of kinkmas: a little tradition (1)
part 2
a/n: starting the month with a little bakugo fluff. was gonna do aizawa smut first, but @neon-gothicc inspired this with her denki fic so here u go i hope u like it friend.
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader
prompt: mistletoe
tags: pro!bakusquad, mention of alcohol, katsuki has anxiety, shy!reader, first kiss
see the prompts and join the fun here
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If his plan didn’t work, Denki was a dead man. He knew that much. It was early December, and Eijiro and Mina were hosting the first holiday party of the year. After telling them his idea weeks ago when they’d announced the party, Mina had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and Eijiro was all stupid romantic grins at the thought.
As the couple got decor in place, setting out food and drink for the event, Denki helped set up decorations by hanging things that were a little too high for Mina to reach on her own. When everything was ready and the clock struck seven, people slowly began trickling in as the party started.
Katsuki walked in the front door after Sero. He looked around the room, not noticing much at first. Then he saw it, and turned around to walk out. Sero grabbed him by the coat and pulled him back in.
“Oh, no Bakubro. You dipped on every holiday party last year. You’re staying,” he said.
Denki, the little fucker he is, hung a sprig of mistletoe over every single doorway in the apartment that Katsuki could see. The two blonde men locked eyes, one with a glare and the other a nervous smile.
Yeah, he was a dead man.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
You were in the main living area where most everyone was gathered aside from him and a few others playing a game of some kind, looking like a dream, and Katsuki didn’t know how to handle himself. He couldn’t pull his eyes from the pretty red nail polish that complimented your outfit. It resonated in his head, the way you laughed so genuinely at every one of Sero’s stupid jokes as you sat near him. He felt like he was going to be sick. At some point, Katsuki caught your eyes glancing at the doorways once you’d noticed the first one, but you’d seemed unphased.
Of course she doesn’t care, you fucking idiot, he thought. You’re the only one who’s bothered by it.
As the night dwindled on, every once in a while people would “follow tradition,” giving chaste kisses to their significant other.
He’d hardly spent time with you at all. Truthfully, he didn’t have the courage to.
You’d been on his mind for years, little bits of banter going back and forth as you worked at the front desk of the agency. But he never had the courage to ask you out on a date. It felt stupid; Katsuki had all the confidence and smooth talk in the world when he’d first become a hero, knew just what to say to charm the pants off of any person he wanted to fuck. Then he met you three years ago, and it all came to a screeching halt. His stomach got tight, his mouth went dry. He’d fumble things in his hands for no reason, feel his cheeks heat up whenever you spoke to him. He fucking hated it. His friends never shut up on it, either.
Katsuki noticed there was no one in the main entryway to the dining room where snacks and drinks were displayed, so he took his chance and managed to get through the entrance and then to the bathroom unscathed. He slumped down onto the toilet and started at the floor for a long moment. Red, tired eyes looked back at him when he got up to wash his hands.
“I should just fucking leave. Don’t wanna be here anyway,” he mumbled to himself.
Another knot tightly wound itself in his gut.
It was too loud. Everyone was getting drunk. And tonight, he just didn’t care. He knew his friends must have something up their sleeve, convinced that he gives a single fuck about you when he’s told them time and again that, no, he doesn’t. That they need to butt the hell out of his love life. Because if he were to admit to them that he did, they’d only get worse.
Katsuki also knew that if he ended up under the mistletoe with you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself back.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
“Just talk to him, honey!” Mina said quietly with a smile. “Or go take his seat. That’ll start something.”
Your face flared with heat; you’d been debating on approaching Katsuki all night. He looked miserable sitting across the room, but was engaged in other conversation for the most part.
“No, you’re crazy,” you replied.
You stood up and went to grab a glass of water from the dining area. Denki called out as you walked away.
“Hey, wait, can you get me-”
You ran into a wall of muscle with your head turned back to look the other way. Katsuki stood in front of you seemingly dumbfounded and not having noticed you either.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!”
“‘S fine, you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Kiiiiiss,” Sero shouted from across the room.
“Yeah, it’s tradition. You have to, bad luck if you don’t,” Denki quipped.
One look up and sure enough, you were smack under the entryway.
You stepped back with a nervous laugh and met Katsuki’s gaze. “N-no, it’s okay.”
“C’mon, just a little peck,” Eijiro said.
Katsuki watched your cheeks flush, and the words came out of his idiot mouth before he could stop them.
“Dunceface is right, y’know. Tradition’s tradition,” he mumbled.
With a smile and a sigh, you relented. You pushed onto your toes to reach Katsuki’s cheek and kissed him. As you pulled away, two large hands grabbed your face. Katsuki kissed you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.
The sudden uproar of noise in the room faded in Katsuki’s head as he kissed you once, twice, and again. His heart hammered in his chest. By the second and third one, you were kissing him back. He almost couldn’t believe it.
For once, he thought, Dunceface had a pretty good idea.
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sorry i forgot to add the tag list 🤦‍♀️
if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡
gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @pastelbakugou @gold24fish
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