Atsushiki

A deep voice called out from behind the counter, accompanied by the sound of dishes clattering. “Welcome to—”

That’s when Bakugo’s gaze lifts from the dish in his hands and over to you standing in his doorway, looking like you just saw a ghost.

“I need to hide!” You shouted, scrambling to rush over toward the counter. “Please. Only until my driver shows up.”

“Driver?” He huffed in amusement. Then, he got a good look at you, recognizing immediately who you were. Without a word, he gestured to the curtain nearby. “Here.”

Fast-forward to tonight and here you are again, tucked away in the back of his restaurant in peace. Bakugo comes back with another bowl of your favorite dish he makes — katsudon.

“Thank you,” you smile up at him, appreciation shining in your eyes. He knew who you were and didn’t make a big deal of it, never even asked for anything in return. He hid you without question, fed you and insisted it was just a favor.

That favor turned into a constant.

Now anytime you’re in this part of the city, you’re sure to pop in and devour a homemade meal, one made with actual heart and devotion.

“Eat,” he grumbles, but there’s a hint of gratitude of his own. No matter what he made for you, nothing went to waste — clean plate every single time. “I’ll come get ya when the coast is clear.”

Bakugo always makes sure you can leave without fanfare. No cameras, no nosy fans — normal, what you deserve. But tonight, he finds himself more curious than usual.

“How’s the new movie goin’?” He questions from the doorway, broad shoulders pressed against the wood grain.

It catches you off guard, but it doesn’t feel like a loaded question, doesn’t feel invasive. It’s genuine.

“Exhausting,” you admit between bites of katsudon. “But fun. I could spoil it for you if you wanted.” You wink at him for the first time, a playful gesture you’re used to doing with other actors on set. Bakugo laughs, the sound unexpectedly rumbling in his chest and making yours feel warm.

“Careful, princess. Gonna get yourself caught spillin’ trade secrets.” And he turns to head back into the kitchen, shouting at the other workers various commands and insults. It’s background noise to you.

Maybe this is the start of something new, you think. A connection with someone who doesn’t want anything from you, no motive to only get you into a bed and brag to the press. Hell, he’s not even guilting you into free autographs or photos. No — Bakugo’s hospitality is real. His mannerisms may be brash, but his food says every single emotion that he cannot.

You leave that night with a brighter smile, waving to him as you tuck the brim of your hat down to scamper out to the waiting car. The city lights stream through the windows, illuminating the cabin in various fluorescent hues. Ten minutes into the drive, your phone vibrates — a text from a mystery number.

“See you next week, making a new gyudon recipe.”

Leaving your number behind paid off, scribbled on a napkin with your real name, not your alias.

“Looking forward to it :)”

one of the first times they actually noticed this was back when she was still small, just a few months old. when they were having dinner and it's his turn to feed her as they ate, and his wife—who's his #1 (loving) bully—just couldn't help herself from (lovingly) annoying him.

“are you holding the spoon right?”

“'course i am, i know how to hold a f— a spoon.”

“i'm just saying,” she shrugged. “you've got big fat hands, holding baby spoons can't be easy for someone of your species.”

“‘my spe’—” he scoffed. “oh i know you aren't complainin' 'bout my hands.”

“i wasn't complaining.”

“what's this then? y'think this is flatterin'?”

“yes actually, it's— poop, she's falling asleep.”

they both reached out to hold their chubby baby's lolling head, eyes already fluttering as baby food dribbled out of her mouth.

soft fingers gently drummed on softer cheeks. “baby girl, at least finish your food first—”

“this is your fault.”

she looked up to glare at him. “i'm incapable of doing any wrong, i'm your wife.”

“that makes no fuckin' sense.”

she gasped, lowering her voice to a whisper-shout as she covered the baby's tiny ears. “don't curse in front of the baby!”

he mirrored her lower tone. “then shut up already!”

“you shut up!”

“no, you— she's fuckin' asleep.”

she glanced down to the limp head dozing off in their joined palms, and looked away to stare off into nothing. “this is fucking crazy.”

pro-hero!katsuki and his wife who, on their baby's sleepless nights, learned to stage ‘fights’ just to put her to bed. bc turns out, this baby treated her parents shenanigans as white noise.

she'd been awake for far too long and reached that state where she was too sleepy to function but somehow still couldn't sleep anyway, so she bawled her eyes out and left her parents scrambling to figure out a solution.

his wife gasped, “katsuki!”

“what, woman?” he didn't intend for it to come out so harsh, but his baby's cries were getting to him.

“fight with me.”

“pardon?”

“bicker! bickering! were you the one who ate the last slice of my cake!?”

it took a second, but then it clicked.

“and what about it? what if i did?”

they didn't have any cake in the first place, and honestly they might've gotten a little into the pretend-fighting out of stress (crying babies were so stressful) but whatever heat there was in the moment soon fizzled away with the tiniest, sleepy giggles bubbling in their baby's throat, small hands gently clapping at her parents' distress like she was watching a soap opera or something. crazy fuckin' baby, he thought, holding back an endeared laugh.

eventually, their bickering dwindled as baby's breathing finally started to slow, limbs sprawled out a la starfish as she got comfortable in her crib.

“we got a weird-ass baby.”

his wife giggled. “you think she'd sleep through our divorce?”

he snorted. “like a light.”

laughter was already raking through her body, jelly-fying her limbs enough that she linked their arms and leaned into him for support.

“fighting over custody and she's snoring.”

“she wouldn't give a shit.”

“she'd pick whoever gives her the better bed to sleep through it with.”

“me, obviously.”

she gasped and swatted at his arm. “shut the fuck up, i make more money than you do.”

“stop makin' me sound like i'm broke.” he huffed, turning away from her with the slightest pout forming on his lips. “i'm fuckin' dynamight.”

a grin stretched wide across her face as she brought a hand up to cup his jaw, pulling him in as she stood on her tippy toes to pepper kisses all over his face. “nah, i'm doing that.”

his cheeks warmed under her teasing tone. “shut up.” but he made no effort to push her away—if anything, his hands were instinctively slithering around her waist to hold her steady and closer.

“oh—” kiss. “—great explosion murder god dynamight—” kiss. “—you're so rich—” kiss. “—and hot—” kiss.

“fuck off.”

“—i love you—” kiss. kiss. “—take your pants off.”

“freak.”

pro-hero!katsuki whose household, despite all this, was still mostly quiet. both adults worked demanding jobs, and by the time they're home, they're exhausted. even if his wife had taken a small from the public eye to focus on their baby while he was out hero-ing, she still had a few meetings here and there with execs she didn't like (which meant that bakugo hated them) which wasn't anywhere near as bad in comparison but on top of taking care of the baby, shit was tiring.

“'m home.”

“hi.” she hardly shifted from where she lied on the couch, babykugo sitting on her belly as they watched cartoons together. at the sound of her papa's voice though, she perked up a little, looking over her shoulder and letting out a little whine. “i'm dead. i forgot to cook.”

“that's fine, keep dyin'.” he sighed, tucking away his shoes. “my arms're killin' me, so we'll order in. what do y'want?”

“something with dough.”

“raw dough.”

“close. pizza is okay.”

“shit's not fillin' enough.” at this point, they've honestly given up on self-censoring for the baby. they'll lock in when she really starts to form words. walking into the living room, he slowly approached the couch. “what else?”

she groaned, head thrown back against the armrest. “don't do that to yourself,” they met eyes as he stood behind the couch, leading to baby, craning her neck upwards to see her dad upside down. “every time you say that when we order in, you end up cooking a little something on the side.”

he softened at his daughter's big doe eyes blinking up at him. “hi baby girl—” looked over to wifey, “—an' a salad's not cookin'; it's puttin' shit in a bowl and givin' it a toss.”

“too much armwork for ‘not cooking’.”

“you do it too, 'm—” he looked back to baby, who was now back to being entranced by the movie like he wasn't even there. “she think 'm chopped liver or some shit?”

wifey sighed, resting her arms over her face. “i guess, yeah.”

“i'll blow up the tv.”

“your total carbon footprint is already crazy, please don't worsen it. for my sanity.”

“chooses freakin' tv over her own daddy—” oh, censorship success! “—how's this the bun i put in the oven?”

“i don't know man, you were there when she came out.” adjusting her arms, she looked up at her man. “maybe she'll like you again after you shower 'n kiss your wife.”

he hummed, relenting. as much as he'd love to be the kind of guy who kissed his wife and kid the second he got home, he's particular about outside air. it's routine for him to shower first before he's all over his girls.

“'m waitin' f'r what you want t' eat first so i can shower while we wait.” he placed his hands on his hips. “d'you actually want pizza or just the dough texture?”

“ugh, you know me too well.”

“wraps,” he suggested. “that fusion place with the fat-ass paratha burritos.”

“ooh,” she perked up at that, hands moving to her belly to play with baby's tiny fingers. “that.. yes. i want.”

“great.”

“wow baby, no wonder you're married.”

his brows furrowed as genuine confusion flashed across his face, making her cackle. “dunno how t’ respond t' that.”

baby girl suddenly broke into giggles, startling both her parents as she clapped her tiny hands and lolled around, weak with laughter. wifey was quick to support baby's weight.

the corners of his lips twitched upwards even as he huffed, too weak for his baby's giggles. “movie can't be that funny.”

wifey rolled her eyes, “go shower already.”

“yeah, yeah.”

pro-hero!katsuki who really loves his girls.

☾ — i hate how this is written jsyk. it's basically three horribly-written (for my standards for myself) oneshots in a trenchcoat n an excuse to write out bkg n wifey bickering. BUT I'M DOING MY BESTTT RAHHHH—all that matters is that i wrote it down n put it out. all that matters is that i wrote it down n put it out AUGHHH. DW GANG, i will absolutely give u a PROPER ONESHOT of papatsuki n popstar!wifey eventually. n w ur support, IT WILL BE SOONER !!! pls keep reblogging n commenting n just letting me know how u like my hcs (even if the writing not that good or cohesive) bc it truly gives me motivation to WRITE MOREEE !!!! i fr really need to write a fluff oneshot/drabble bc onfg all i ever write is angst (see also; drunken stupor) aosjsjks anyw i hope u enjoyed n loved my papatsuki, popstar!wifey, and babykugo. we need to name babykugo. my ask box is open 😍

pro-hero!katsuki who is somehow the perfect husband and father, and every other person in his life is sick of it. because what do you mean this motherfucker is the one in a happy relationship? kirishima can't land someone for longer than two months, izuku's still stuck in the years-long song and dance with ochaco, most of these idiots are stuck or in and out of situationships, and don't even get anyone started on kaminari and jiro—but everyone, and i mean everyone, can't seem to get their love life right. why and how, out of all people, did katsuki bakugo get this shit right on the first try?

pro-hero!katsuki who is, unsurprisingly, class 1-a's resident relationship guru. he didn't ask for that position and he genuinely doesn't even understand why it's necessary, but every other reunion, basically everyone was taking turns on asking him love advice. like sure, as the only married parent out of the 21 alums, he has ‘tips and tricks’—but he doesn't get why these idiots need someone to tell them this shit. isn't it all obvious?

“bakugo.. i don't know how to be in a relationship and keep working.. what do i do..?” — “then don't? sort your shit out first. why are you makin' 'em deal with y'r mess that you don't even know how to deal with? jesus.”

“bakugo, the flowers i give my partner when i apologize always seems to end up in the trash even though they said they forgave me. what does that mean?” — “they're either not into flowers or y' can't communicate. either way, makes you a dickhead.”

“she says i'm not present enough.” — “y' probably aren't.”

"she said she doesn't want to be with me 'cause my job scares her.” — “valid. hero work is scary shit. y' can either handle it or y' can't, that's just how shit is. talk to her, but y' can't force her to stay if she really doesn't want to. that's fuckin' mean.”

“wait so, how's the missus okay with you and your job??” — “just win every fight and make it in time for dinner. light fuckin' work.”

this shit is so easy, why do these idiots need his hand-holding so badly.

pro-hero!katsuki who makes everyone even more annoyed because for the most part, he never intentionally shows off his perfect family. he's a pretty private guy, and he doesn't like making his marriage anyone's business outside of his close inner circle—it's unnecessary. and yet, like all things katsuki, it's still regularly rubbed in everyone's faces because turns out, he's just such a family man.

he's forced into a day of interviews on the weekend with red riot so obviously they'll have lunch together. they're in the cafeteria and kirishima was going to order something when katsuki dragged him to a table, forced him to sit, and pulls out a lunchbag out of nowhere.

“bakugo!? where the hell did you get that!?”

“shut up. here,” he opened the bag to hand him one of the two bentos and some chopsticks. “my lady and my kid made it this morning. eat it or i'll blow you up.”

kirishima didn't need to be told twice. “thank you for the food!” n he absolutely inhaled it all.

“bakugo, can you tell your wife i love her?” — “rot.”

he bumped into izuku on a walk who's bummed out, feelings crushed over something. izuku's talking about how he's not sure how he can juggle hero work, teaching, and trying this out with ochaco and he knows katsuki is listening, he does. but he could absolutely tell his head and heart wasn't fully in it, and so he stopped to ask.

“what's wrong with you?”

“hah? nothin'.” katsuki turned away, “'m fine.”

“is it work?”

just a bit more prodding later, and katsuki's hanging his whole head remorsefully, broad shoulders sagged and weak.

“..i blew up my kid's favorite dress.”

izuku was so grateful he managed to hold his laugh.

“that's.. that's horrible, kacchan.”

“she said she hates me.”

“she's three and upset, it's normal.” patted him on the back. “she doesn't actually hate you.”

“she's got her mama's heart and my temper, she absolutely fuckin' hates me.”

“well.”

“shut the fuck up.”

“i didn't even say anything.”

pro-hero!katsuki who is living the dream and everyone else are jealous extras. not his fault tho.

more on babykugo and wifey!reader here :]

☾ — do i really like how i wrote this? no.... but the idea is in my brain n i had to just put it out. i definitely hv more papatsuki hcs cooking—it's genuinely all i'm thinking abt ever since i watched buddy daddies—but i'm so sleepy rn n i want to go back to spyxfam so this is all we're getting. also I KNOW I SAID I HAD THE PARENTING DIARY IDEA, BUT PLATONIC!KIRIBAKU BUDDY DADDIES AU IS TEMPTING ME AOSOSJHDJSKSK someone save me. anyw yeah, there'll be more papatsuki. i need to get more comfortable writing hcs and simpler stuff anyw so i'm experimenting. thank u 4 reading n if u enjoyed it pls lmk and reblog and/or lmk in comments :] i lorb u gang ♡ (also i'm experimenting w my themes until i like it rn so pls don't mind)

You feel your heart rate increase, hands getting clammy at your sides and cheeks now dusted with pink blush. Your body feels too warm in the cold classroom, and you immediately blame it on the sun pouring in from the windows rather than the boy a few feet in front of you. His pale skin looks almost golden from the rays of sunshine painting his features, the sharp lines of his jaw looking drawn from the shadows the light casted. Adams'apple bobbling in his throat when he swallows and a sharp nose that exhaled sharply in annoyance when a student walked to close past his desk. 

“Hey! Are you calling this seat?”  A seemingly excited male voice snaps you out of your trance, your head turning to the side to see a red spiky haired boy with a big toothy grin and a pink haired girl standing next to him. It takes you a second to process his question, when it registers your cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, realizing you were just staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“Oh, no go ahead. Sorry I was totally in your way.” You chuckle nervously and take a step back to let them pass, smiling apologetically. 

The male laughs, “Nah no worries! Thanks!” He stands off to the side to let the girl go first, she smiles brightly at you in passing and takes the last seat in the row before he takes the one in front of her.  You internally scold yourself before following, sitting down at the desk in front of him. 

“I’m Eijiro Kirishima!”

 Kirishima says happily with a hand on his chest like a proud soldier.

 “And I’m Mina Ashido!” 

Mina says excitedly, both of them looking at you like a new found best friend. 

You smile at them both, committing the names to memory. “It's nice meeting you guys.” You say as casually as you can, feeling your nerves start to settle now that the initial one-sided embarrassment has subsided. As the minutes pass more students start shuffling in, you continue making casual conversation with the two, asking about what middle schools they went to, quirks, hero dreams, etc. 

Eventually your teacher, Mr. Aizawa walks in, he starts going over the syllabus and expectations for the year. By the end of the first period, you kind of settled into a comfortable friend group with Kirishima and Mina. Later going on to meeting more classmates who became part of your circle were Denki, Sero, Jiro, and Yaoyorozu. The best part? That spiky blonde was roped into being part of this group, Katsuki Bakugo. 

A third-year and member of the schools Big 3, Mirio Togata was giving your entire class a tour of the school grounds. As you all walk to the dorms, you're chatting excitedly with Mina. 

“UA puts 5 star hotels to shame.” You state starstruck, looking up at the massive dorm building as the class walks on the trail to reach its entrance. The tall glass building reflects the afternoon sun, painting the campus in gorgeous shades of orange. Flowers along the trail dance in the breeze and clouds rolling idly by overheard create shapes that vaguely resemble animals. 

“No kidding! Looks like something out of a movie!” Mina chuckles next to you as she follows your gaze upwards to the building. 

Behind you two, Kirishima throws his arm over Bakugou's shoulders, excitedly looking up at the dorm building. “Yeah! Baku-bro, isn't this place insane?” Bakugou groans, shaking off Kirishima's arm from his shoulders with excessive force before shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.“Tch. It’s just a damn building, not the Tokyo Tower.” His voice was gruff and annoyed, displeased with what seemed like everything. 

Kirishima takes no offense from Bakugou's tone or action, he just laughs it off and puts his hands in his pockets. “Oh come on man! Lighten up!” 

Bakugou's left eye twitches, “Shut up shittyhair! Only thing I'm lighting is your ass on fire!” He snaps back, Mina laughs. You chuckle alongside her, both of you turning back to see Kirishima laughing like it was the funniest joke in the world and not an outright threat while Bakugou mutters under his breath about ‘extras and their odd fixations with buildings’.

Your eyebrows furrow slightly as your brain starts catching up with his seemingly always annoyed and angry attitude.You shake your head slightly, filing away the observations before turning to face forward as the class reaches the dorm building.

As the tour continues, you start noticing more of his bad attitude and quick to anger temper towards everything. Small details of how he doesn't keep the door from shutting on the person walking behind him, interrupting Mirio as he speaks usually to comment that he's taking too long on his explanation, and the way he huffs dramatically whenever the group stops for more than thirty seconds.

At one point Mirio pauses to answer a question from one of your classmates, Bakugou clicks his tongue.

"Oi, lets get a damn move on!" He barks out with his hands clenching into fist in his pockets.

Mirio laughs. "Patience, young Bakugou! In due time!"

"Tch." He rolls his eyes so hard you're surprised they don't get stuck in the back of his head. 

Of all the people in class to have a crush on, you somehow managed to pick the human embodiment of a grenade. A very attractive grenade. A grenade that looked perpetually one inconvenience away from committing a felony.

Time Skip - 6 months. 

Six months had passed since the first day you stepped into Class 1-A. Unfortunately, your crush hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had gotten worse. Which was impressive considering the object of your affection seemed personally offended by the concept of human interaction.

The rest of your friend group had long since figured out how to handle Bakugou. Mina argued with him like it was a competitive sport. Denki constantly annoyed him for his own entertainment. Kirishima treated every threat as a friendly greeting. Even Jiro occasionally rolled her eyes and told him to shut up.

Bakugou never changed. He was still impatient. Still blunt. Still somehow capable of sounding irritated while having a rare, casual conversation. Yet everyone else carried on as usual around him.

Everyone except you. It wasn't intentional. But somewhere along the way you started paying attention to every reaction he had. Whether his expression darkened when someone interrupted him. Whether his eye twitched when Denki got too loud. Whether he looked annoyed by a topic of conversation.

You found yourself adjusting for him without even realizing it. Talking a little quieter. Thinking twice before making a joke. Checking his mood before saying something ridiculous. The worst part? You were naturally a ridiculous person. So whenever Bakugou wasn't around, you felt like yourself. Loud laughter. Terrible jokes. Dramatic storytelling. The whole nine-yards.

Then Bakugou would walk into the room and you'd immediately become aware of yourself again. You hated it. Especially because nobody else seemed affected, only you. As if your stupid crush had somehow rewired your brain. 

Tonight was supposed to be a break from all that. After surviving a brutal week of classes and training, your friend group had decided to spend Friday night at an arcade.

The place was packed. Bright lights flashed from every direction while overlapping game music created a wall of noise loud enough to drown out everything. The smell of pizza and slushies drifted in the air like a taunt while Mina destroyed everyone at a dance game. Denki had somehow lost three consecutive rounds of basketball against Jiro and Sero was laughing so hard he nearly fell over. You spent the first hour bouncing between games and collecting enough tickets to buy nothing useful. For once, you weren't thinking about school, training, internships, or Bakugou.

Then everyone migrated toward a racing simulator. Immediately, chaos broke out over who got to play first. Unfortunately, there weren't enough seats for everyone. Which meant some people had to wait, and through a cruel twist of fate, you ended up being one of them. Alongside Bakugou.

Fantastic. 

Sighing imperceptibly, you stood beside one of the machines while Kirishima waited nearby, enthusiastically commentating on the race currently happening on-screen.

"You're taking that corner too wide!" He shouted.

"I know!" Denki yelled back.

"No, you clearly don't!"

"You sound like Bakugou!"

"Don't compare me to him!"

Bakugou’s left eye twitched, “The hell does that mean you idiot!"

Kirishima laughed. Then his attention shifted toward the concession stand across the arcade.

"Oh, hold on. I'm grabbing a drink."

Without waiting for a response, he ran off towards the stand, counting tickets in his hands calculating how many he’ll need with his signature toothy grin.

The noise of the arcade seemed louder now, or maybe you were just more aware of it. You shifted your weight awkwardly, squaring your shoulders and standing a bit straighter against the wall before pulling out your phone and checking your notifications. There was nothing there, but you stared anyway. A habit you'd developed months ago because willing a  notification to come through was easier than trying to figure out what to say to Bakugou. 

Not that he looked interested in conversation anyway. He was standing beside you with his hands shoved into his pockets, eyes fixed on the racing game probably thinking how much better he'd be doing at it. His expression looked exactly the same as it always did, annoyed, like he'd rather be anywhere else. 

A minute passed. Then another. You refreshed the same page on your phone for the third time. He glanced over at you, eyebrows furrowed. When it looked like he'd blow a fuse if he saw you checked your phone again Kirishima returned with a huge slushie. Your shoulders sagged in quiet relief and you pocketed your phone.

Thank god…

Minutes later, you ended up challenging Kirishima to a round of air hockey. Which turned out to be a mistake. A horrible mistake. Because somehow the game had escalated from a friendly match into a full-blown championship event.

"THAT DIDN'T COUNT!" You shouted, nearly climbing over the table after the puck bounced into your goal.

"It absolutely counted!" Kirishima yelled back, laughing so hard he could barely hold the striker.

"It ricocheted!"

"That's literally part of the game!"

Your entire friend group ended up around the air hockey table, all giggling and observing your antics. You didn't even notice until Mina nearly doubled over laughing. "Oh my god, you two are ridiculous."

"Tell him he cheated!" You demanded with a pout.

"He didn't cheat." She says cheerfully, breathless from laughing. 

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, muttering to yourself. "Betrayal."

Across the arcade, Bakugou had been watching. For a moment, his eyes lingered. Watching you animatedly argue with Kirishima. Watching your exaggerated hand gestures. The loud laughter. The ridiculous dramatics. The complete lack of self-consciousness. Then he looked away with a scoff before thinking to himself, 

Since when was this woman so damn loud?

Eventually you all used your tickets to buy useless plastic trinkets and candies. Mina bought a cherry lollipop, Denki, a slap bracelet he used mostly on Jiro instead of his own wrist. Kirishima won a teddy bear he ended up gifting to Mina, and you bought the first thing that caught your eye and made you smile. 

As the night wound down and the arcade was closer to closing, you all decided to start heading back to the dorms. Everyone walked in pairs down the narrow sidewalk, all having separate conversations with their partner. Jiro and Yaoyorozu led the group talking about an upcoming test, Kirishima and Mina behind them naming the teddy bear with Denki and Sero right on their heels suggesting outrageous names. That left you and Bakugo walking side by side, the only two silent. 

You weren’t exactly uncomfortable, just distracted by the teasing going on in front of you. Chuckling and shaking your head, occasionally giving your two scents on the names Denki and Sero were spewing. You walked casually, almost forgetting the grenade beside you. Almost. 

The conversation in front of you became more of the four, so you took it as your sign to respectfully resign yourself. Now becoming more aware of the situation you’re in, you walked with your shoulders slightly more squared, your eyes gazing over the view of city buildings and closed up shops. Anything but the walking firecracker next to you, with his hands in his pockets and a slightly more relaxed scowl on his face. 

After three more minutes of silent walking, your fingers started fidgeting with the hem on your shirt, teeth biting the inside of your cheek unconsciously.

Does he find this awkward? Does he wish he were with anyone else? 

No, you know what? Screw it. 

Before you could overthink it you cleared your throat, “Hey so, did you have a good time?” Your voice came out shakier than intended, your nervousness painfully obvious. You cursed yourself internally for it.

Bakugou side eyed you, crimson eyes narrowing as he reads between the lines of your tone. “Yeah, good enough of a time possible with you idiots.” His voice was gruff, annoyed as ever. 

A quiet chuckle slipped out before you could stop it, his jaw ticked imperceptibly. You tried to think of something to say, your eyebrows furrowing once more in thought. 

Bakugo walks alongside you with the long growing silence, except for the sound of the gears turning in your head. He keeps noticing the way you bite the inside of your cheek while you think of what to say, how your lips part slightly and then shut just as fast as you deem whatever you were about to say unworthy. His scowl deepens, jaw ticking and hands digging deeper into his pockets as if physically restraining himself from opening your jaw and making you speak. “Just spit it out already, idiot. You’re pissing me off.” He breaks the silence with a borderline commanding tone, sharp crimson eyes locking onto yours. 

You snap  from your thoughts, looking at him wide eyed with slightly parted lips. Your mouth moves a couple times, your brain still trying to process the request. 

“What?” You ask just to buy time and think of a proper sentence to say in the mess that is your thoughts.

“You deaf or something?” He snaps back, the last of his thin patience wavering into nothing. “Just say what you're thinking, is that so hard?” His voice is practically a growl. 

You blink once, twice, trying to figure out why you're not more intimidated than you should be but more intrigued. You licked your lips and cleared your throat before speaking,

“The girls were talking about suggesting to watch a movie later in the common room. What kind of movie would you suggest?” Your voice came out quiet, but steadier than before.  

See? Progress.  

“Tch. Seriously? That's what took you so goddamn long?” He says gruffly, annoyed with how much of a big deal you were making about something so seemingly simple. 

Nevermind.

A pause. 

“Rom-com.” He replies slightly less annoyed from before now that you finally spit out your question.  “Anything in that genre.” He continues, turning his head to face forward again casually like he didn't just short circuit your brain.

“Rom-com?” You say almost immediately, your tone higher pitched in disbelief and eyes widening slightly in surprise. “You…Katsuki Bakugou…like rom-coms?” 

His expression twists in defenses.“Tch. Is that a goddamn problem nerd?” He barks back, causing you to laugh a full belly laugh. Denki and Sero look back at you sharing a surprised glances and a chuckle before turning back to face forward. Bakugou scowls impossibly further, a low growl from the depth of his throat bubbling up.

“Stop laughing idiot!” He whirls on you while yelling out, hands clenching into fist in his pockets and teeth grinding together. You only laughed harder, clutching your stomach as you felt muscles tense. 

Your laughter filling the once awkward silence was like sunshine finally peeking out from behind rain clouds, invading his head and heart without warning. An unfamiliar sense of warmth blossoms in his chest. Before he could process it, his face muscles relaxed. Observing the way your eyes crinkled and your smile lines framed your soft lips. Cheeks turning a soft red from the laughter and your sweet perfume getting carried by the night breeze into his lungs. He inhaled like it was the first time he'd ever smelled it, and maybe in a sense it was. Before this moment, you were just another friend from the group, but now he’s really noticing you.

In your fit of laughter, Bakugou steps slow just barely to better match yours. He himself didn’t even notice his feet quietly adjusting to you, if he did he probably would've scowled and walked faster out of anger at himself for making an accommodation for anyone. His head dropped down slightly towards the sidewalk while his tongue pushed on the inside of his cheek to suppress a rare smile threatening to show. He should've been upset at you for laughing at him, and part of him was. But a small, unfamiliar part of him wanted nothing more than to keep being the reason you were laughing.

“I'm sorry-” You gasp out between laughs, completely unaware of the internal shift he just faced.

Your voice cutting him from his thoughts and making his face form right back into his default scowl, his head snapping up to face you again.

“Like hell you are!” He barks out with less heat than before, taking a hand out of his pocket to point an accusing finger at you. “ I'll make you damn sorry if you don't stop laughing!” Even as the threat spilled from his lips, it carried less weight than usual.

You wipe a stray tear from under your eye as your laughter dies down, not from his threat but because you simply needed air. “Okay, there is absolutely no way you like rom-coms.” You say with exaggerated hand movements and a bright amused smile.

He huffs and shoves his hand back in his pocket, facing forward and refusing to look at you. “Believe what you want idiot.” he mutters.

“No no no, let's talk about this,” you say chuckling before continuing, “which one made you realize you liked em? Oh let me guess, How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days?” 

He rolls his eyes hard, “Please, that cheesy ass movie? Hell no. When Harry Met Sally, easy.” He states like it's the most obvious pick in the world. His scowl lightens just slightly as scenes from his favorite movie replay in his head.

You smiled a little brighter, “A classic. Didn't know you of all people would enjoy a friends to lovers trope.” You say surprised but happy to be getting to know more about him. 

After all, this is basically the first real conversation you guys have had. The real cherry on top was that no one else knows about this side of him. You couldn't help but get your hopes up, your harmless crush on him suddenly becoming a small burning flame in your chest. Was this a new beginning for you guys? A first step towards a level above whatever friendship you guys had before? 

He shrugs, still with his hands in his pockets. “Better than all that fake horror movie shit. What kind of moron trips while being chased?” He scoffs annoyed, rolling his eyes like he’s mentally replaying every time a protagonist has fallen while running away from the killer in a film. 

You laugh, also visualizing it. “Hey no debate here. I love horror movies but they really do get annoying after coming up with a million ways to evade every situation the main character gets put in.” 

He looks at you with a borderline shocked expression, surprised someone actually had the same opinion as him on this before the look disappears just as fast as it came. “At least someone gets it.” He mumbles almost amused. 

You smile and chuckle, your head tilting slightly as you look at him walking next to you under the moonlight. Ash-blonde hair ruffling in the breeze that smelled faintly of fresh cut grass. Streetlights overhead casting shadows down his sharp nose and jawline while his eyebrows released some of the permanent tension that lived there. 

You couldn't help but realize how light you felt in this moment with him. The chatter from the group up ahead had disappeared from your notice, your focus solely on the fact that Katsuki Bakugou was holding a conversation with you. He hadn’t told you to shut up, yet. Or speed walk away with a click of his tongue. 

So, you took this as your invitation to keep talking. For the rest of the ten minute walk back to campus, you’re rambling animatedly about your favorite rom-coms, comedy and action movies. Your arms wave around enthusiastically as your lips move a million miles a minute about every topic. Bakugou gives his two-cents on every topic but not enough for it to be considered a two way conversation. A “Tch. That movie? Seriously? What are you? Five?” When explaining your favorite rom-com or “That’s the worst acting I’ve ever seen from so-called professionals. Why would anyone waste an hour and thirty minutes of their day for THAT movie.” While explaining your favorite action movie. You laughed it off and kept talking considering all the complaining he’s doing is because he’s sat down and watched them himself at some point. Only when the view of the towering glass UA dorm building came into view did he say, 

“You’re a damn chatter box huh?” With an amused chuckle to himself, still looking forward with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and walking with that easy confidence he permanently carried. He didn’t say it to offend you or even judge you. To him it was merely an observation he decided to state out loud, not expecting to have caused any harm with his silly seeming comment.

However, whatever words you had on your tongue died right there, your mouth clamping shut and heart sinking in your chest with embarrassment. 

Holy shit, I really did just chew his ear off. Damn it, the one conversation I had with him I absolutely blew it.

You rub the side of your arm while chewing on the inside of your right cheek, self criticizing every word you said up to this point. Bakugou immediately notices when you're silent, how could he not? Just two seconds ago your mouth was partially open about to say something but now you're suddenly as silent as a mouse. Just before Bakugou seemingly was about to speak, 

“Hey! You guys down for a movie night?” Jiro suggests from her spot at the front. Everyone immediately agrees with excited “yes!” and “duh!” mostly from Mina, Denki, and Kirishima. 

Oh fun. A movie night. Could this get any worse?

You think to yourself as you walk inside the dorm building, everyone saying quick goodbyes before disappearing into their rooms to change into comfy clothes. 

The sound of the bathroom extractor and running faucet water echo off your room walls. You stand in front of your bathroom sink, hoodie and sweats pants on, hair up in a messy bun and makeup off. The warm water runs over your hands as you wash away the soap and mortification from that interaction with Bakugo. Your gaze moves to the reflection of your face in the mirror, scanning over your disappointed features as you visualize the clown makeup over your features. Yeah, that level of mortification. 

Absolute idiot. Just had to keep talking huh? 

You take a deep breath and turn off the running water, the faucet creaking and the water flow turning into a steady drip of  single droplets till it eventually ceases. Pushing off the sink counter with a huff, you mentally prepare yourself to walk out of your safe space and into the warzone. 

When you arrive, the entire group is already in the low-lit common area. Everyone standing around the kitchen island talking and laughing excitedly while Momo hands out snacks from the pantry. The smell of buttery popcorn cooking and the sound of cornels popping on the stove fill the room. A smile paints your lips at the sight of everyone having a good time, Kirishima already fist deep in his favorite chips, Mina with sour airhead strips laughing loudly with Sero, Denki with goldfish and sour candy standing next to Jiro like a lost puppy with a smile, and Jiro with a pack of M&M talking with Momo at the pantry. 

Everyone is having a great time with each other, besides Bakugou. 

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you scan the area, finding him away from the group and already sitting on the leather brown couch, staring at you as you walk further into the space. He occupies the left corner of the couch, man-spreading with his left arm draped across the back of the cushions and head turned to see you. The black slim TV remote with multi-colored buttons lays on his lap, hand loosely around it as the screen loads up to show the movies category on Netflix.  

Your heart does an embarrassing leap in your chest as your steps unconsciously slow down, the sight of him like a king on his throne making your cheeks flush. Crimson eyes study your features like he’ll have a quiz on them, blonde eyebrows pulled together making his relaxed features seem tense.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat and quickly look away from him like you were caught committing a crime. Your nerves start to make your hands clammy under your hoodie sleeves, a cold sweat deciding to break out on the back of your neck causing hairs to stick uncomfortably to the damp skin. 

Kirishima is the first to notice you walking further into the room, with a toothy grin and an excited glint in his eyes he announces your presence to the group. “There you are! We were waiting for you!” He says, causing heads to turn and smiles to be pointed your way. Everyone is painfully oblivious to the thickening tension between you and Bakugous whose eyes you can feel burning a hole through the back of your skull. 

You smile and start making conversation while grabbing a bowl and helping Jiro to put in the popcorn. Conversation is easy as always, echos of laughter bringing a warmth back to your chest and settling your nerves. You're being your usual loud and stupid self, making terrible jokes that cause the group to laugh at you rather than with you. Not that you mind, their joy is so infectious you forget to care. 

Periodically, your eyes flick to where Bakugou resides. His watching gaze and annoyed expression makes your heart race all over again, like the last 15 minutes of laughter and smiles did nothing to ease your mind. You look away and shake off the anxiety as best as you can, focusing on the smiling faces in front of you rather than the cold, calculating gaze behind them.

 Soon enough people start to take their spots on the couch, Mina on the opposite corner of the couch, Denki in the middle with Jiro on his right and Sero on his left, and Momo sitting on a nearby arm chair nursing a cup of tea. You and Kirishima stay standing a little longer as he grabs a soda from the fridge, laughing hard from a ridiculous joke you made and he added onto. 

Bakugou rolls his eyes at the sight of you and Kirishima, sighing loudly to grab your attention. “Oi! Any day now nerds!” He complains with a grumble, but his impatient tone suggests an underlying reasoning for wanting you guys to sit down. Jealousy? No, definelty not..

You and Kirishima share a glance before giggling like kids and walking to the couch, whispering about ‘firecrackers and their attitudes’ which only made Bakugo click his tongue and track his red haired best friend beside you with a glare.

Kirishima being the gentleman he is, stands off to the side to let you pick where you want to sit first with an encouraging smile and tilt of his head. You look over the options and your smile fades slowly. Left side with a scowling Bakugou whose gaze is now locked on you, or Mina on the right laughing at something Denki said. 

“You’re a damn chatter box huh?”

His words echo fresh in your mind, the feeling of your heart sinking in your chest and your spirits crumbling for the hope of…well, anything, still stinging. The embarrassment hasn't faded despite the time that passed and your heart still feels heavy with disappointment. You guys were having a great conversation, at least you thought. Now, looking back,  it just feels one sided. Like the conversation was a chore or rather a courtesy since he got stuck next to you. 

Kirishima waits patiently behind you with that permanent smile in his expression, popping open his soda with a click and fizz. You blink back the thoughts and with your eyes downcast, you take a seat next to Mina.

Bakugou watches you sit down, tracking your form as you curl into the cushions and glance at him. For a brief second, you could have sworn disappointment flashed in his gaze. His lips pulled into the faintest of frowns, his eyebrows pulling downward in slight confusion before it quickly disappears and is masked by a scowl. He tears his eyes from you and focuses on the TV, adjusting his hips on the couch and resting his elbow on the armrest before putting his cheek against his fist. 

You frown slightly and do the same as Kirishima walks in front of you to sit next to Bakugou, turning your attention to focus on the TV with a small sigh. When you look, really look at the movie queued on the screen, your heart plummets down to your stomach.

A newly released rom-com sits patiently on screen, the trailer starting with slow romantic jazz and a montage of the movie over the “Watch” button. 

Your eyes snap to his again, regret settling like a hundred pound weight on your chest. The music from the movie turns to static in your ears over the sound of your pounding heart. The chatter of the group dulls into a faint buzz and the smell of the various assortment of snacks meddle together into something sour in your nose. Bakugo's gaze stays forward, that same unreadable but annoyed scowl, Kirishima next to him offers snacks that he refuses with a click of his tongue. 

The fabric of your oversized hoodie felt too tight on your frame, the lights overhead felt more like spotlights, all pointing at you for making the wrong choice. 

He planned a rom-com. 

You realize then that Bakugo had purposely sat down earlier than everyone else, claimed a spot on the couch with the remote in hand, and picked a movie from the conversations you guys had…for you. Maybe he had planned something to say when you sat next to him, something only the two of you would’ve understood. Maybe it could’ve turned into an inside joke, maybe you could’ve joked over the acting or talked about the cliches. Maybe, he had wanted you to sit next to him. Now, you’ll never get to know. 

Your thoughts get cut off from the common room lights getting shut off by Momo in the corner of the room. The movie starts to play as the calm music and scenic city play over the TV. You lay back into the cushions trying to mold yourself into the leather, hoping you could just disappear for the next hour and thirty minutes of this rom-com. 

The rom- com passes in a blur of tension and romantic music, none of which you bother to try to pay attention to. Your thoughts were too loud to pay attention to the scenes in front of you, your heart too fast to relax and enjoy much of anything, and your eyes would glance at a bothered Bakugo every ten minutes trying to read his thoughts from his face. Which was proven a futile effort after the seventeenth time. 

He didn’t move or speak much during the movie, he would occasionally yawn loudly or adjust his position on the couch. Arms behind his head against the couch and legs manspreading enough to be comfortable and inconvenience Kirishima next to him. Unbeknownst to you, after every glance you snuck at him, he snuck one back. When he watched your face turn forward in his peripheral vision, he’d side eye you just enough to see that small frown on your lips and sagging shoulders under your hoodie. His eyes would narrow imperceptibly and lips pull into a tight line before looking back to the TV, not really watching the movie either. 

Eventually, the names of directors and producers rolled over the closing montage. Jiro grabs the remote and shuts off the TV, plummeting the room into darkness aside from the single lamp in the corner still on. Despite the exhaustion settling in your bones you don't move, not wanting to be rude and leave when everyone is still seated. The group was tired enough to be yawning but still wound up from all the sugary snacks and drinks, so after no debate you all stayed seated on the couch. Mina the first to stretch and everyone following after her with groans and exaggerated noises. 

“Man, I am stuffed.” Mina says before flopping back against the cushions. Denki laughs and does the same after stretching, resting his head against Jiro's shoulder. “Well you did eat most of the popcorn.” Kirishima and Momo laugh next. 

You chuckle and rest your head against the couch cushions, instinctively turning your face to the side and meeting Bakgo’s waiting gaze. Butterflies flap their wings in your stomach, warmth creeping up your neck threatening to turn into a blush on your cheeks. Your expression is tired and apologetic, trying to telepathically apologize with your half lidded eyes and small frown.

Bakugo's expression remains unreadable, but he isn't scowling. Crimson eyes roaming over your every feature seemingly lost in thought. The chatter of friends talking, the AC blowing overheard, the smell of sugar from candy, it all fades into the background underneath the way he’s looking at you. Like you're the only woman in the room worth looking at. 

He can tell that your shoulders are sagging more than before, your eyes barely able to stay open and your posture melting further into the cushions with every passing second. After two more seconds he comes to a silent conclusion and rises from his spot on the couch, shoving his hands in his sweatpant pockets and leaving without a word. 

Kirishima is the first to notice his sudden departure, “Yo, Bakubro! You out?” He calls out while taking the now available space on the couch. Bakugo turns his face enough just to side eye him, "What it look like Shitty-Hair? Obviously.” He grumbles and continues walking down the dark hallway. Kirishima laughs and waves him off with an enthusiastic “Goodnight!” You watch his form grow distant down the dark hallway, long strides eating up the distance between him and his room. 

You look away when his silhouette is out of sight, waiting approximately two minutes before getting up from your spot with a yawn, excusing yourself with a tired smile and mumbling “good night” to everyone. You walk slowly to your dorm room, stumbling over your dragging feet and keeping close to the wall. You reach your room and fumble with the doorknob before pushing it open and disappearing inside, unaware of Bakugo standing just two doors down in the darkness. 

The next day, it was a beautiful Saturday morning. Birds chirping a song outside your window as leaves float down from trees and rays of sunshine pour in through your curtains to color the wooden floorboards in shades of yellow. Your room was colder than usual, AC from the building paired with your ceiling fan making your spot under your comforter a cocoon of warmth. Just as you switch positions and melt into your matress your 8 am alarm blares from your phone, cutting through the quiet atmosphere with the persistent ringing. 

You groan and shut off your alarm, deciding to throw off your blankets and get up. You're already awake so might as well make the most of it. After doing your usual morning routine your stomach announces its hunger with a loud grumble, “Yeah yeah I heard you.” You mumble to your stomach before throwing on your favorite hoodie and pj pants, walking out of your room towards the common room kitchen. Yawning and tripping over your slippers you manage to make it to the kitchen, stopping at the threshold when you see Bakugo already there in his usual black tanktop and sweats combo with a white towel around his neck. 

His back is facing you as he throws in mangos, pineapples, bananas, protein powder, coconut water, and ice into a blender. Twisting the lid onto the blender cup with forearms flexing, locking the cup into the machine and- his motions come to a halt, head turning over his shoulders to look at you. 

You both stare at each other for five seconds, heavy silence stretching out between you two before you look around the empty kitchen with a sheepish expression. With a nervous giggle, “Good morning.” You say with a voice crack, coughing after and smacking your chest. 

Nice one. Real smooth.

Bakugo almost smiles, if you classify his lip barely twitching upwards a smile. “Morning.” He says with a gruff tone before turning back to his smoothie, hiding the amused expression growing on his features. 

You walk further into the kitchen and head to the cabinet where the bowls reside, grabbing your favorite bowl with a chip on the rim and listening as the smoothie blends together. After two minutes of loud whirring the blender shuts off, he unlocks the cup and opens the lid, throwing in a metal straw and turning to face you. One hand holding the cup to his lips and the other braced against the counter where his lower back rests against. 

Silence falls over the space between you, unspoken words from last night creating a blanket of tension. You close the cabinet and set down the bowl on the counter, walking to the fridge and grabbing the milk carton. 

After a couple seconds of internal encouragement you clear your throat, “What uh, are you doing up so early?” You ask while shutting the fridge door and setting the milk cartoon down next to your bowl. His eyebrows furrow and he takes the straw out of his mouth, licking his lips before saying, “Training. Obviously.” 

You mentally smack your palm over your face, cursing yourself for being so stupid. Bakugo always trains in the mornings, even on weekends. You know this because he never lets anyone forget how ahead he is and how lazy they are, claiming "villains don't take weekends off, why should heroes?”  

“Right, yeah of course.” You say with an embarrassed chuckle, turning away and soundlessly mouthing curse words at yourself as you grab a spoon from the drawer. He tracks your movements while sipping his smoothie again, already knowing what you’re going to grab. You work on autopilot to grab your favorite cereal from the cabinet, walking back to your spot with everything lined up and waiting. 

Seriously? You just had to ask what he was doing huh? Damn idiot. Couldn't have asked anything else? I mean cmon, we know he trains every morning. He's been training since birth. Why not ask about his smoothie? Or his-

“You’re seriously going to eat that?” Bakugo’s annoyed voice cuts through your thoughts and silence in the room. 

You look over to him, eyes blinking at him trying to figure out if you just imagined his voice. “What?”

He rolls his eyes before repeating, “The cereal. You're seriously going to eat that?” 

Your eyebrows furrow in defense, “What's wrong with cereal?” You say holding the box between your hands to your chest like you would a baby. 

“Tch. It's straight sugar and processed chemicals. You expect to be a top hero with that in your diet?” He says back like the box kicked his puppy and burned his house to the ground. 

You roll your eyes and set down the box, one hand on your hip and the other braced against the counter. “It’s Saturday. Calories don’t count on the weekends.” You say with a bit of sass, Bakugo stares at you like you've grown two heads. Eye twitching in disbelief at the nonsense just left your mouth. Before he could tell you how ridiculous that is you put a hand up to silence him, “No judging my breakfast TNT, unless you plan on making me some I don't want to hear it.” You say turning to face the counter and ripping open the box. 

Bakugo scowls, slamming down his half finished smoothie and snatching the box from your hands just before you could pour it. You whirl on him with your mouth open to protest but are met with his face inches from yours, close enough to see every individual eye lash and smell his natural scent of salted caramel and sweat. “Don’t give me that attitude.” He growls lowly, smacking the box down on the counter away from you without breaking eye contact. “You’re not eating this junk, you hear me?” 

You blink up at him, butterflies swarming in your stomach and air becoming thinner in your lungs. The kitchen around you fades to nothing, his towering frame blocking out any other sight. Time slowed down just for you, giving the chance for tension to grow with every second of eyecontact. Somewhere down the hall a classmate coughs, the smoke director chirps and the condensation on his smoothie cup glides down the plastic. 

Before you could even think to react he backs up, walking over to the stove and grabbing a frying pan that was set on top of low heat. Your expression quickly twists into confusion as he sets down the frying pan in front of you before grabbing a clean plastic fork he found on the counter and throws it carelessly next to the pan. He snatches his smoothie from the counter and shoves his free hand into his pocket, “Eat it.” He grumbles and rounds the counter, sitting on the barstool in front of you.

You look away from him to the pan. Inside is a small portion of seasoned scrambled eggs, sausage links, bacon, and potatoes. It wasn’t much, most likely the remnants of his own breakfast but it was more than enough to hold you off till lunch. 

When did he make this? Was it on the stove the entire time?

While you try to figure out how you missed this, an audible slurp from him across the counterechoes in the kitchen. “Oi. You gonna eat it with your eyes or sum?” He mumbles around the straw in his mouth while giving you an almost amused look. 

You blink out of your daze and pick up the plastic fork, mumbling something incoherent before stabbing a piece of egg and sausage before putting it in your mouth. When the taste registers you look at him as you chew, the fluffy eggs with just the right amount of pepper and sausage link that falls apart in your mouth are damn near perfect. 

At your staring he asks,“What?” With a grumble as you swallow. “You made this?” You ask, still completely shocked at how delicious that small bite was. “Tch. Yeah, so what?” He responds before finishing off his smoothie and carelessly throwing the empty cup into the sink. The clatter of plastic against metal reverberated in the kitchen before settling, "It's really good.”  You say already stabbing more onto your fork. He huffs from the praise, a grin threatening to form on his lips. “Obviously. Did you think it'd be bad?” 

“I thought it'd be poisoned." You respond quickly around the mouth full of potatoes. Bakugo's tongue pushed on the inside of his cheek and exhaled sharply from his nose, hiding his amused smile and chuckle. “Shut up and eat the damn food woman.” He grumbles and watches you scarf down the next bite. 

He watches you finish the portion of food, arms crossed on the counter and veiny hands on his biceps. With a satisfied hum you set down the dirty dishes into the sink, starting the water and lathering soap onto the blue scrub. After a couple minutes of the only sound in the room being running water, scrub working over dirty dishes and the occasional chirp of the smoke detector, Bakugo speaks up. “Don’t think we aren’t going to talk about last night.” His voice gruff but calmer than you’ve ever heard it. 

Your heart plummets thirty stories down, a cold chill running down your body. You glance up at him and then back to the dishes, “um, what about last night?” 

He huffs, “Don’t give me that. You know what happened.” His words hang in the air like an invisible force, guilt settling in your chest once more. “Why’d you do it?” He asks, looking away from you to the distant wall. 

You stop scrubbing the pan in your hand, looking up at him and taking a couple seconds to collect your thoughts. “I thought you didn’t want me to sit next to you is all.” You say softly, guilt evident in your tone.

His jaw ticks, “Why?” The question leaves him immediately, eyes looking back to you now. You look down to the pan, chewing on the inside of your cheek from nerves. “You said I was a chatterbox, so I assumed I was bothering you. Thought you’d want some space.” You explain yourself in a low tone, shoulders sagging and waiting for him to storm off. 

The kitchen goes silent aside from the background noise, multiple seconds pass before turning into a minute. “That’s not what I meant.” Bakugo says with less patience than before. “It was just an observation, it was never meant to insult you damn it.” He continues with his hands clutching his biceps, anger mostly directed at himself in every line on his face. 

You blink down at the pan once, twice, before finally looking at him. “You don’t hate me?” You ask before you could even process the thought. “Tch. Don’t be an idiot.” He grumbles before continuing, “I don’t hate you.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, shoulders sagging in relief and heart rate starting to steady. “That’s reassuring.” You say with a chuckle, smiling at him and putting the soapy pan under the running water. 

He huffs, but it’s half hearted. His shoulders lose tension imperceptibly, but you notice. You notice that his eyebrows aren’t furrowed, his eyes aren’t crinkled with their usual judgement, and his jaw isn’t clenched. You smile a little brighter, “Thank you, for talking about it. The last thing I wanted was for us to be awkward around each other.” 

Bakugo studies the curve of your lips, the shape of your Cupid's bow and the color staining your cheeks. The way your eyes crinkled with happiness and smile lines that framed soft pink lips. For a split second, he felt like he’d never seen something so beautiful. He looks away when he catches himself staring with a grumble, “Shut up. Don't make it weird.” 

You chuckle and continue washing dishes, feeling lighter and hopeful. For the next ten minutes Bakugo sits there as you clean, you ask him about his training and talk with him over his detailed schedule. Making jokes about being Type A and him yelling at you, making you laugh harder. 

Over the next few months you and Bakugo grew closer. When you’d start conversations with him he’d give real responses rather than the short answers like he used too. He’d let you stand closer to him without complaint in crowded areas. He’d show trust by gravitating towards you when he wanted to stay quiet, letting you be loud for the both of you. 

Slowly, you noticed things…progressing. He started inviting you to train with him in the mornings- okay, sure it was more of a suggestion with a time and a meeting spot but he didn’t look surprised when you showed up. He sat closer to you at lunch while you rambled on about Aizawa’s lecture an hour prior, glaring at you when he noticed your half eaten food getting cold on your tray. “Oi, talk later.” He’d say annoyed and push your tray further in front of you before going back to his own meal muttering about being ‘a damn babysitter.’ On weekend mornings he’d throw a towel over the blender so his morning smoothie wouldn’t wake you up from your sleeping state down the hall. Later when you'd stumble half awake to the kitchen, the smell of breakfast would greet you almost instantly. There sat Bakugo on his usual barstool with a plate of freshly cooked breakfast and a protein smoothie. But, in the pan was just enough to consider an extra serving for you. Not that he'd ever admit it, but he did make extra for you so you wouldn't eat that god awful cereal. 

He initiated conversation with you while walking to class with an annoyed comment on the changing weather and other days sat in silence on the common room couch after a long day. Knees barely touching as he pretends to scroll through his phone and you read a book under a mountain of blankets. He took your health more seriously than you did, constantly commenting on the snacks you ate before throwing you one of his protein bars after snatching your bag of chips from your hands. “Keep eating like shit, I’m not dragging your ass when you need help in the field.” He’d comment when you protest, and immediately look away from your pouting expression. “Don’t look at me like that dumbass.” He’d grumble and walk away, leaving you with the protein bar and a belly full of butterflies. His expression started softening when he saw you, eyebrows relaxing and eyes uncrinckling. Standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder with you, letting his presence be enough to fill the silence. When a nickname you’d been dying to call him slipped out during conversation, you both froze, but he just looked away and said, “Keep talking idiot, don’t make it weird.” Was it outright permission? Not exactly, but it might as well have been. 

Now it was the middle of fall, autumn colored leaves scattered on sidewalks and a cool breeze that smelled faintly of pine cones and rain drifted through the streets. It was your first day at your internship at Hawk’s agency. Bakugo was at Endeavors just down the street in his winter hero costume because, of course, even the breeze made him cold. 

You spent your first day at Hawks side as he explains how everything runs and what your training schedule will look like. Red wings flaring out to stretch every few minutes as you walk down hallway after hallway. “My office is here, where I unfortunately do mountains of paperwork in one sitting till 3 am.” He said in a sarcastically cheerful tone with a look of repulsion at the glass office, earning him a laugh from you. He’d grin and continue with the tour of the facility, treating you like a celebrity on the red carpet escorting you around like a personal body guard. By the end of your first day it was clear you and Hawks were going to be good friends, your personalities meshed perfectly and respect went both ways, not just for recognition as a Pro Hero to an upcoming Hero, but for the undeniable fact that any room you walked into you could bring light. 

As expected, you both became the best of friends. The internship quickly became more of a play date. Training was spent laughing between drills and combo attacks, patrol was spent talking endlessly about funny arrest stories from Hawks and Aizawa lectures from you, while paperwork was dreaded on in his office over boxes of takeout. 

Every night like clockwork at 8 pm you’d call Bakugo for thirty minutes and go over your day. Telling him about every stupid joke during patrol and funny arrest stories. He would listen to you talk about Hawks like an old friend you'd known for years rather than a Pro Hero you met days ago with an annoyed scowl and clicks of his tongue. “You and featherbrain seem chipper.” He commented with a bothered tone, scowling at his wall mentally picturing Hawks face. You’d laugh it off and continue rambling. He could tell how happy you were at your agency and it made him jealous that ‘birdbrain’ was the cause. Despite him not wanting to admit it, you could hear it when he’d sigh or yawn loudly mid story, scoffing at the mention of Hawks every chance he got. 

On the last day of the internship, Hawks invited every Pro Hero and their internship students to a night out. A reserved rooftop lounge in the heart of downtown for the night to celebrate the upcoming end of the internships. 

You spent two hours getting ready for tonight. Your favorite getting ready playlist blasting from your phone speaker. Everything-shower was accomplished, lotion and perfume on, hair dolled up to your perfection, make-up flawless with no caking, and the dress you're wearing accentuates every dip and curve on your body. To say the least, you look stunning. 

As you were slipping your kitten heels on, your phone rang from its spot on your nightstand. You walk over and smile at the familiar contact lighting up your screen. You pick up the phone and put it on speaker. “Hey Suki, what's up?” You say cheerfully and slip your heels on. A huff at the nickname can be heard from the other side and some rustling, “You’re going to that stupid party tonight right?” His gruff voice answers as a form of greeting. You chuckle, shaking your head and getting the first heel on. “Yeah I'm going. You?” He groans on the other end, “Yeah.” He says with an annoyed exhale. You can already picture his expression, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose with his phone to his ear. You smile to yourself and slip on the other heel. “I’ll see you there then.” You say excitedly before grabbing your phone from the charger. He sighs before mumbling, “Yeah whatever.” Hanging up right after. You chuckle to yourself and head out the door. 

When you get to the party your jaw threatens to drop. The night sky was glittering with stars, a full moon illuminating the space along with several blue, purple, and red lights. Night traffic below sounded miles away, cars honking and faint shouting audible in the distance. 

The rooftop was covered in strung up fairy lights, plush couches with coffee tables in front of each, standing tables without chairs along the railings and decorative plants in many corners. The back held the bar where a bartender shook a drink for Present Mic with two hands, the dance floor was just in front of it with two massive speakers hidden near the bar. 

The entire class 1-A was already there mingling around the rooftop, Jiro next to Denki as he spoke to Sero with a bright smile. Ochaco with Tsuyu on one of the couches nearest the entrance, and Tenya with Momo at one of the standing tables likely talking about class related topics. But, as always, your eye caught on Bakugo. 

He was wearing a black button up long sleeve, black belt with a grenade buckle and black pants. Ash-blonde hair spiky and rustling in the autumn breeze and crimson eyes assessing every passing hero as if sizing them up for a fight. Which, to be honest, he probably is doing. 

Sensing someone watching him, his gaze lands on you, eyes roaming slowly from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. His eyes widen ever so slightly, throat suddenly going dry and hands sweatier than usual in his pockets. 

You walk over to where he stands next to Mina and Kirishima with a smile, Mina immediately greeting you with a tight hug and a squeal. “There you are! You look gorgeous!” You laugh and hug her back, “Says you!” Kirishima whistles playfully with an ear to ear grin. “Looking fancy!” He says with a lighthearted tone, giving you a side hug in the process. You look over to Katsuki next, “Long time no see huh?” You say with a warm smile. He gives you another up-down look before muttering, “Clearly.” Mostly to himself. You chuckle and smooth out your dress, “Forgot what I looked like or something?” He huffs, which you’ve come to realize is his form of a chuckle, and looks away to the distant bar. “Tch. Don’t be ridiculous.” He grumbles and clenches his jaw. 

Your eyebrows furrow as you study his demeanor, he seemed…nervous. But why? Mina and Kirishima share a knowing glance before smiling to themselves, clearly knowing something you don't.

The rest of the evening passed easier than expected. Music drifted through the rooftop lounge while heroes laughed over drinks and internship students swapped stories from the past week.

Hawks, naturally, was everywhere.

He pulled you into conversations, introduced you to heroes you hadn’t met yet, somehow convinced Present Mic to tell the story of the time he’d accidentally blown out every microphone in a three-block radius, and convinced you to dance the Macerena with him. You laughed until your stomach hurt, smiling so bright your cheeks hurt from the strain.

And every single time…Katsuki noticed. He stood off to the side by the railing watching you trip over your heels on the dance floor. He noticed the way Hawks could make you laugh within seconds. The way you lightly shoved his shoulder after another joke. The way Hawks leaned down to hear you over the music with his smug grin and sharp eyes.

Katsuki hated every second of it. But why? He scowled to himself and came to a silent conclusion. By the time the party started winding down, he’d had enough.

He found you standing near the railing overlooking the city, taking in the cool autumn breeze as you recharge your social battery after the night you've had. You took in deep breaths and looked down to cars stopping at traffic lights and citizens closing up shops for the night. 

“Oi.” A familiar gruff voice cut through the peace.

You startled and turned to face Katsuki, putting a hand over your chest as you exhaled with a chuckle. “Oh—hey, Suki-” 

“Come here.” Without waiting, he stepped forward and grabbed your wrist between his thumb and pointer finger, walking you both toward the quieter end of the rooftop. 

You stumbled but caught your footing, “Kat what the hell?” He huffs and turns his head over his shoulder to glare at you. “I should be asking that."He snaps back before facing forward again, the corner between the bar and railing slowly coming into view. You physically lean back like his words put a wall between you. “What are you so mad about?”  You say back, annoyed at his attitude. He responds with, “Tch.” And pulls you faster. 

When you're finally away from prying eyes and listening ears he whirls on you, pinning you against the wall with his hands on either side of your head. “Just what the hell do you think you're doing?” His tone is accusing, crimson eyes narrowed in frustration and nostrils flaring. You blink a couple times, completely taken aback.“Wha-”

“The past week has been Hawks this Hawks that. So just what's going on?” Your expression twists into confusion and offense. “Nothings going on Katsuki-” 

“Like hell there isn't. You think I don't know that smile? That laugh?” He says sharply before continuing. “I know you. I know you forget to zip your backpack after class. I know that regardless how tired you are you won't leave the room first out of respect. I know you forget your water bottle after a long training session. I know how you prefer drinking energy drinks over coffee. I know you hum your favorite song when you think no one can hear. I know you damn it.” He says all in one breath, panting after but never breaking eye contact. 

You forgot how to breathe, eyes wide and heart racing. The city below, the music still playing over the speaker, the clinking of cups, it all fades to nothing. You stare up at him like you're seeing him for the first time, bringing your hands up to cup his face. He doesn't flinch, doesn’t blink, doesn't even breathe. “Say something damn it.” His voice breaks. His cheek turning in your palm as if chasing comfort. 

You brush your thumb back and forth on his cheek, a smile pulling your lips. “Ask me, Katsuki.” You whisper, tilting your head to the side. “Please.” 

He stares at you for a minute, memorizing this moment with you like he won't get another. “Be my woman.” He says softly, softer than you'd ever heard before. “Be the voice I hear every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. Be the woman I work everyday to deserve.” 

You laugh breathlessly, not because anything is funny, but because the grenade you’ve had a crush on for months is asking you to be his. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the crock of his neck, inhaling his caramel sweet scent and feeling his warmth seep into your bones. “Yes. A million times yes.” You murmur into his skin. 

His arms wrap around your waist like an iron band, pulling you flush against his chest with no intention of letting go. Not tonight, not ever. He laughs breathlessly with his chin resting on the top of your head, shoulders sagging in relief and lips twisted into a smile. 

Seconds later you feel his hand leave your waist and cradle the back of your neck, pulling you gently away from where your face was and leaning you back enough to look at you. “You’re mine, you understand?” He asks and doesn’t wait for a response before dipping his head down and pressing a firm kiss to your lips. “All damn mine.” He murmurs against your lips before kissing you again. 

The kiss was a mixture of passion and devotion, like your lips moving against his was unraveling him in ways he never thought possible. He spelled promises with every motion, swore oaths of loyalty with every groan. Because, when Katsuki met you, he knew you’d be his everything.

“th-thanks.”

“nice place … good thing it didn’t go up in flames.”

your face heats up at the embarrassment. “yeah … and thanks for coming ; I don’t have guests often but I really like to cook and bake for people.”

“yeah? well you can make food for us anytime, angel, we just have to figure out a way to repay you.” kiri hums, nodding his head down and hugging you. he’s massive, his frame swallowing yours entirely.

katsuki hesitates at first, but he also decides to hug you after eijiro pulls away. they both smell so fucking good, wearing heady colognes that are distinctly different from each other, but neither one is overpowering. yum.

you serve the food and they’re both so sweet, thanking and complimenting you the entire evening. you notice that neither of them ask for any sort of alcohol, which you’re thankful for.

“it’s been so long since I’ve had a home cooked meal like this, and this has to be the best that I’ve ever eaten .. oh my god, angel.” kirishima groans, eating up every last bit before setting his silverware back down.

his praise is enough to make your heart skip a beat, and you’re fluttering your doll lashes at him without even realizing it. “seems he doesn’t think very highly of my cooking.” bakugo grumbles, but it’s playful.

“can’t you just thank our host instead of being an ass? you’re jealous, huh?”

katsuki rolls his eyes before turning to you, his tone shifting entirely. “it was perfect, one of my favorites. thanks for having us, sweet thing.” your gaze turns to the blonde, and you notice just how big his hands are as he drinks from a glass of water. it’s distracting, but you manage to think of a response.

“you’re welcome, it was no trouble, and I love to cook for people … and I’m sorry to ask, but do you guys live together, or something?”

“yeah, best friends and roommates since high school. don’t worry, I take good care of him.” kirishima teases and the blonde rolls his eyes again, clearly unamused. “like hell you do, I feel like I’m your mother most days.” bakugo counters, lightly kicking at kirishima, which just makes the redhead laugh.

“well, what about dessert? I baked cookies properly this time.”

the mens’ faces light up and they nod at you .. but they both have other plans for dessert.

and yeah, they ate, and they praised you and thanked you to no end, and then they ate again .. but the main course, and even the dessert, could never compare to this — you, and your perfect, glistening pussy. bakugo is sitting with you on the kitchen counter, holding you against his chest, and kirishima between your thighs.

you’re soaking all over katsuki’s jeans, your wetness dripping through the ripped holes in the distressed denim and onto his skin, but it’s not like he minds the mess, he loves it.

“s’even sweeter than that homemade buttercream, baby, fuck. you’ve gotta taste her, kats.” kirishima moans, licking a wide stripe up your entire cunt, flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit in a way that makes you shiver as you run your fingers through his thick, silky hair.

“I will, I will … I’ve just got such a pretty view right now.” katsuki says over your shoulder, licking your neck before looking down at kiri.

their eyes meet while kirishima gives your cunt sloppy, open-mouth kisses, focusing on your clit, his dark eyelashes flutter and you can feel that there’s something not-so-platonic between them. it makes you whine as your thoughts blur, picturing these two gorgeous men pleasuring each other when they’re alone.

katsuki is mouthing at the column of your throat, sucking obscene bruises onto your soft skin. he doesn’t know you very well yet, but you’re so cute that he can’t help wanting to mark you up for himself.

you don’t last long, and you would’ve been more embarrassed if they hadn’t been doting on you as if you were the most perfect thing in existence, but kiri is telling you to cum so you don’t hold back on him — “it’s okay, princess, cum in my mouth, you’ve earned it.”

and when you cum, it’s the cutest and hottest thing that either men have ever seen. thighs trembling, one hand in kats’ hair and the other in kiri’s as you try to bring them both impossibly closer. you’re lightly hyperventilating and crying, trying to calm yourself in their holds, but kiri isn’t letting up, still just lapping and sucking at your sweet pussy until you literally push him away from you.

“too much, kiri, please!”

he finally relents, greedily licking his lips before wiping his hand with the back of his mouth, only to let katsuki lick up what’s left on his fingers. the blonde moans, closing his eyes and gently sucking on his bestie’s thick, pretty fingers. you audibly gulp as you watch them …

“atta girl, so fuckin’ pretty.” katsuki whispers against your neck, softly rubbing your sensitive kitty before he flips your skirt and apron back down, just so he can stuff his own fingers into his mouth to taste you again.

katsuki easily picks you up and carries you into your bedroom with kiri trailing behind, holding your sweet face and eagerly trying to kiss you as much as he can over his best friend’s shoulder while he carries you — kiri is obsessed, and he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

katsuki gently sets you down and they take turns removing your clothing, and then their own. they both look perfect ; they could be models even with the array of scars and cuts and bruises decorating their perfectly toned bodies, and they’re both absolutely hung. it makes your mouth water and your pussy even wetter ; you can feel the slick already dripping down your plush thighs, mixed with kiri’s spit.

“you want us both? or one at a time?” kirishima asks, his mouth still on your skin as he slips off your last piece of clothing. both men are trying to take it slow because they want to worship you, but they’ve both been fucking dying to have you like this since they first saw you, and especially after seeing you in that cute little dress in the kitchen today.

the question itself makes you blush an even brighter shade, and your breath catches, “j-just one.”

“gotcha, angel … is that something you’d want to try another time?” and he’s so sweet the way he asks such a filthy thing … so close that you can feel his pretty eyelashes against your cheek as he noses his way down to kiss your neck.

“I don’t know, m-maybe.”

“good girl, baby, it’s whatever you want … no pressure, jus’want to make you feel good.” he speaks the words into your skin, kissing you in reverence, but it’s still a lot. you haven’t had two partners at once before, so that was out of the question for now, but he still made you feel safe.

the feeling of being shared and doted on by these two gorgeous men was unreal, and you couldn’t tell if it made you feel like a slut, or like their prized possession .. maybe a bit of both, and maybe you liked it.

he switches topics, asking, “you wanna let bakugo taste your pretty pussy now, angel? is that okay?”

you nod without thinking and bakugo grins, laying you on your back, kissing all down your body while kiri settles into your squishy pillows at the headboard with you between his legs, your back to his chest. kiri is already impossibly hard, but the sight of you with his best friend kissing and licking and biting all over your pretty body makes him so hard that it hurts, with sweet little pearls of pre beading up at his pretty pink tip and rolling down his warm, thick length.

you’re so much smaller than them, so katsuki knows that he has to open you up with his fingers and tongue a bit because there’s no way that he or his best friend will be able to fit inside of you as is. katsuki is a munch, so wishes that he could just lay there and do nothing but suck on your perfect clit like his favorite little piece of candy, but hearing you whine and keen for him while he stretches you out is also a good option.

“fuck, katsuki, you feel so good,” you sigh, already lost in him. your praise goes straight to his ego, and he sucks a deep bruise into your pelvis, rubbing his thumb over your clit. you melt into kirishima, using his muscular thighs as a scratching post, arching into katsuki’s cute mouth and moaning like a bitch in heat.

he’s thorough and he’s nasty, licking up absolutely every inch of you to the point that you instinctively pull away, but kiri keeps a hand spread on your stomach, forcing you down into his friend’s warm, wet mouth and making you take his precise tongue with nowhere to go.

you rock your hips against his face, bakugo relentlessly sucking your clit, with his fingers either sunk into your soft skin, or trying to inch his way inside of your tight cunny, sometimes swapping a thick digit for his tongue as he tries to fit deeper. it’s all too much, and you’re already close again and he can tell, finally curling two of his fingers directly into your sweet spot. you’re crying, your dainty hands in his thick, ash blonde hair as you hold him against your cunt, cumming in his mouth and letting him messily slurp and drink all of your nectar.

he’s kissing all over your body, biting at your chest, and kiri is telling you how fucking good you are for them, how beautiful you are, thanking you for letting them have you like this, how they’ll always take care of you. “fuck me, katsuki, please, I wanna feel it !! I need it, you’re so big .. ” you’re desperate now, all of your shyness becoming replaced by the overwhelming need for pleasure.

“yeah, baby?” kiri laughs. “so impatient. not until you tell us who ate your cute pussy better, okay?” you think about it for a moment, pouting up at him and quietly saying, “k-kitty kat.” kiri’s jaw drops, given how fast he got you off. “that’s my sweet girl.” bakugo gloats, kissing you and kirishima rolls his eyes. “yeah? I’ll just have to fuck you better, then. bakugo, you go first.”

“gladly.”

kats shifts onto his haunches, stroking himself and rubbing his big, intimidating length through your folds. you gasp, and you’re so sensitive that you swear you almost cum just on his tip like that. your pussy flutters around nothing, just in anticipation of being filled to the brim. katsuki senses your anxiety, leaning down to kiss you softly as he starts to slide his thick, lengthy cock inside of your tight entrance, and his sexy, needy groans are even louder than your own.

“so big, please please please please please,” you whine against his lips, your mouth dropping into an “o” as you watch how he hardly fits inside …

“m’sorry, baby, just gotta stretch open this perfect little angel cunt for a second, it’ll feel so good, I promise.” he sighs, kissing you again and gently fucking you on his tip just to open you up.

kirishima is just in awe of the scene before him, how sexy you both are .. he feels like this isn’t even real.

“he’s pretty, isn’t he? but you’re even prettier, baby. look at you taking that big cock, m’so proud of you.” kiri whispers, holding your pretty face with one of his massive hands, so close, and your eyes are entirely focused on him as you nod and kiss his soft lips.

“look at me, pretty girl, I’ve got you.” bakugo demands your attention back on him, roughly grabbing your hips and increasing his pace. he has your legs spread and bent up, his hands secured around the backs of your knees, using one to pinch at your perked nipple every so often, while kiri does the same to the other, making you clench down even harder on katsuki’s thick cock, your eyes nearly crossing.

“inside please, I need it,” you beg, with your face in kiri’s neck while bakugo uses all of his strength to absolutely rail into you, and kiri reaches down so that he can rub at your clit. you cry out katsuki’s name, feeling him stuff you absolutely full, pumping his hot, milky load directly into your cunt over and over again until he can’t hold himself up any longer, groaning into your neck and almost falling into your arms. he’s still half-hard inside of you as his thick cum spills out into a sticky mess around his base, and he could swear that he’s in love.

you’re practically mush by the time your boys switch positions and kiri gets to you. you’re absolutely fucked out by your three orgasms, but still wanting to take everything that they’re giving you.

kiri is sweet, kissing you all over again as if you had just started, sighing deeply as he uses bakugo’s cum to slowly inch his way inside of your perfect, velvety pussy. it’s like he knows exactly what you need, exactly how you like to be fucked, like he’s done this countless times before. he’s absolutely in love with how your snug cunt still grips down onto him, taking his monstrous cock like you were made for it. he’s somehow even bigger than katsuki, mostly in thickness.

“so fucking warm, baby, thank you .. oh my god, that’s my good girl, my cock feels right at home here, yeah?” kirishima rambles, tilting his head back for a second before watching himself pound your cunt, and you wrap your calves around his waist, pulling him even closer. he is so incredibly built, all muscle, but his toned waist is the perfect slutty width to let you slot him even closer.

kats has a gentle hold on your throat with one hand, softly stroking your hair with the other, keeping it out of your face, whispering praises into your ear, watching as his best friend pounds into you and ruins you.

“you’re so small, so tight for me … fuck, I love it … ”

“I-I can feel you .. i-in my tummy, eiji,” you mumble, and he just presses one hand over your stomach, causing you both to moan as he feels his big, thick length moving inside of you. bakugo’s cock throbs against your back as he watches intently, biting his lip to keep quiet.

“so beautiful .. perfect, just look at that, my sweet girl … ”

“give me your cum, eiji, please, I wanna feel it inside, need you both to fill me up .. m’on the pill, I promise,”

“I’ve got you, angel, just let go for me.”

you’re spent, but he feels so good that your body gives you one last orgasm. kirishima is close, and feeling you cum on his fat cock sends him over the edge. he kisses you as he cums inside, softly moaning into your mouth. your back arches and your warm walls pulse around kiri’s cock, greedily milking him for every single last drop and you feel so impossibly full, and your poor kitty is puffy and drenched from the inside and out.

you had never cum this many times in one session before, so everything is a bit numb and ethereal as you melt into them. you can only imagine how messy your makeup is at this point, how you’re covered in sweat and can hardly think or breathe, but they both think that you’re the cutest thing in the world.

kirishima cockwarms you for a moment as you both come down, then replaces his cock with two of his fingers. he slides them inside as gently as possible, knowing all too well how overstimulated you are at this point. you did so fucking good for them. you whimper, nuzzling into katsuki’s chest and he shushes you, watching in awe as kirishima brings his fingers to your pouty lips, letting you suck all of the bittersweet cum off of his digits.

“good girl,” he soothes, “tastes good, yeah?” you just sleepily nod mhm, tilting your head up to kiss katsuki, all messy spit and tongue like a hentai scene, and it makes kirishima’s cock twitch.

“thank you, katsuki, eijiro,” you’re hardly able to speak, but you have to say it.

“thank you, baby, you were so fucking good for us.” kiri sighs against your soft chest, gently kissing and sucking on your nipples to soothe himself after all of the intensity.

“good girl, you can rest now, we’ve got you.” katsuki reassures, and his comforting hands are still all over you, rubbing your sore arms, your thighs, stomach, holding your waist, kissing your face and neck and shoulders until your breathing and heart rate return to normal.

they spend the rest of the night cuddling you, helping you come down. you all wash off in the shower before bathing together, sleepily clinging to your pretty boys, letting them dote on you as you come back to earth at your own pace, brushing your hair for you, then your teeth, massaging lotion into your soft skin, and dressing you in clean, comfy pajamas.

they don’t even ask if they can stay the night, already set on taking care of you and making breakfast in the morning. you’d have a lot to talk about tomorrow …

先輩 ⸻ written by senpai with love

notes. I almost cried when my paused queue posted the unfinished draft of this … and tysm to @hexquirk for waiting literal months for me to finish this 🫶🏻 and tysm to the people who deleted their reblogs of my draft when I asked. I really appreciate u all !! 🫶🏻 mwah :3

[ @slutsenpai ⨯ my masterlist ] — likes, reblogs & comments much appreciated! ◟♡ do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my writing anywhere for any reason

and to be completely sincere, despite all his intimidation and explosive temper, you took the job as his secretary because he simply didn’t scare you. everyone else tiptoes around him like he’s a rabid dog waiting to bite, but you don’t tolerate his bullshit. if he yells at you, you yell back. if he throws attitude, you shut it down immediately. your conversations end in nothing more than screaming matches more often than not, but he eventually listens. because no matter how hard he wants to deny it, he knows who holds the authority.

the thing about being bakugou’s secretary is that your job is basically just to clean up after every mess he creates. media outlets constantly criticize his attitude and temper, calling him things like "volatile", "unprofessional", “too aggressive for the public eye”, and anything in between. every interview is a massive risk when you have a cocky hero with such a short fuse running about. you can never trust whether he’ll snap at a reporter or threaten some innocent bystander on live television, so keeping him away from the media—as much as you can with such a popular hero—was best for everyone. 

this press conference was to confront that very issue head on, as well as a few other, smaller topics. a number of other heroes and higher ups sat stiffly around the polished wooden table, whispering small words of doubt or little judgments between each other like gossiping middle school girls before the broadcasting began. you sat directly next to bakugou, who was clearly worked up by the situation at hand. 

he sat rigidly, shoulders drawn taut, expression twisting on his face nothing short of murderous. each sharp breath he took looked almost forced and frustrated. you tried to get him into some box breathing methods to calm his anger in situations like these, but apparently it never really stuck.

the conference started off actually okay in your mind. bakugou seemed to keep his cool, even when tiny backhanded comments were thrown his way. the conversation flowed between other pressing issues within the hero realm—rankings, patrol rotations, the upcoming hero gala—and katsuki chimed in every now and then with his two cents, no matter how passive aggressive they were. for a fleeting moment, you felt genuinely proud of how composed he’d stayed throughout the meeting, like maybe your tough love and endless reprimand over the years were finally getting through to him. 

of course, your relief didn’t last for long; when did it ever around him. some higher up, perhaps a ceo or official of sorts, suddenly switched the topic to focus solely on bakugou. it actually seemed like he was trying to get under his skin, maybe for the cameras or some weird ego thing. whatever it was, it worked. it worked a little too well.

“dynamight, there are actually a few issues i’d like to bring up regarding your…temper, if that's alright,” he pronounced with a smug grin spreading across his lips, eyes now narrowing on bakugou himself. he doesn’t even give katsuki a chance to reply before continuing, “while your results in the field are undeniably impressive, there’s growing concern regarding your conduct during missions.”

bakugou already looks irritated but stays quiet. then he continues, “the public’s trust in heroes depends not only on strength, but restraint.” the room is eerily quiet, so silent you can hear the vibrating hum of the heater in the corner, the click of someone’s pen across the room. 

another man joins in, “there have been repeated reports of intimidation toward civilians, aggressive language toward media personnel, and unnecessary destruction during combat situations.” he shifts in his seat, fiddling with a pen between his fingers and clearly not as confident as the first man. 

bakugou snaps back, “the civilians are alive, aren’t they?” whispers can be heard around the table. a camera flashes from the wall of reporters lining the room. “my job ain’t keeping people pleased, it’s protecting them.”

the official gives one of those tight-lipped politician smiles. the kind you know is feigned before hearing a word of what he has to say. “and that attitude right there is precisely the problem, dynamight.” 

the shift in his behavior comes at that moment exactly. an angered expression bordering on the line of disgust crosses his face faster than you can blink as he clicks his tongue and huffs out some insult under his breath. you watch as he tries to remain calm and utterly fails after about two seconds, slamming a hand against the table and sparks pop at his palms. 

“attitude? you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he growls sharply. the flashes of surrounding cameras increase rapidly at bakugou’s sudden anger, almost like they're trying to egg him on. 

“dynamight, not now.” you whisper firmly, but to no avail. he’s already practically got steam pouring out of his ears with how quickly he’s escalated things. 

another hero begins to chime in, trying to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand. “bakugou, nobody’s questioning your strength. we’re questioning your professionalism.” they unknowingly just make the situation worse. 

“professionalism? you want me to smile pretty for cameras while villains blow shit up?” he fires back instantly, dramatically whipping a hand through the air in emphasis. 

the official who started it all chuckles under his breath slightly, like this was all a part of some plan and it’s going perfect. because despite bakugou’s undeniable skills and power, he’s still extremely predictable. 

“a top hero should inspire confidence, not fear, wouldn’t you agree?” he hummed with a slight condescending tone. “i mean to be completely frank with you, many people in this industry believe your temperament makes you a liability.” he pauses for a brief moment, clicking a pen as reporters murmur in the background. “perhaps if you spent less time shouting and more time behaving like an adult, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

that’s what finally makes him snap. his chair scrapes against the floor as he pushes himself up, sparks flying from his palms. it happens so abruptly half the people in the room flinch when he stands, bracing for impact. 

“say that shit again.” room immediately goes dead silent. 

the official tries to maintain authority, saying, “this behavior is exactly what i mean—”

bakugou absolutely loses it. “you wanna talk about behavior?” he leans forward over the table like he’s seconds away from climbing across it. “you people sit behind polished desks acting like you know a damn thing about working in the field.” he snarls. “you read reports and watch edited footage and suddenly think you can tell me how to do my job?”

“dynamight—” somebody tries cautiously.

“don’t fucking interupt me now.” his palms crackle again, tiny sparks snapping in the air. “you wanna call me aggressive? fine. bein’ aggressive is what gets people out alive and ends shit before more people get hurt.”

cameras flash all around you, another murmur can be heard from the reporters. the official straightens in his chair. “threatening behavior isn’t helping your case.”

bakugou laughs harshly. “threatening? if i was threatening you, trust me, you’d know. all you extras care about is public image,” he continues bitterly, glaring around the table now. “you care more about whether i smile at cameras than whether the damn job gets done.”

“that’s enough,” another higher up cuts in firmly.

“yeah? then stop running your mouths.”

the first official exhales through his nose, visibly irritated now. “this is exactly why people struggle to trust you.”

bakugou slams both hands against the table hard enough to rattle the microphones. “i don’t need trust from bastards who’ve never stepped foot into real danger!” silence falls heavy over the room. he shoves his chair back violently and storms out before anyone can stop him. reporters immediately erupt into noise, camera flashes going insane as people start talking over one another.

you close your eyes for one painful second before forcing yourself up from your seat. “apologies,” you say tightly, already exhausted. “we’ll be ending things here.” someone calls your name as you hurry after him, but you ignore it completely, pacing down the hallway toward the sound of another door violently slamming shut. you follow as quickly as you can and enter the office without another word.

“what the fuck was that?” the office door slams behind you as bakugou storms further inside, ripping off his tie before throwing it across the room. “are you trying to get yourself suspended?”

he turns immediately, already furious. “oh, don’t start.”

“don’t start?” you repeat incredulously. “you just screamed at a public safety official in front of a room full of cameras!”

“because he was talking bullshit!”

“and now every headline tomorrow is gonna be about your temper again!”

“i don’t give a shit about headlines!”

“well your agency does!” you snap, stepping closer. “i do! because guess who has to clean up every mess you make?”

he scoffs. “then quit.”

your jaw tightens. “god, you’re unbelievable.”

“you think i’m just supposed to sit there while they call me a liability?”

“i think you’re supposed to act like a professional for ten fucking minutes!”

his expression hardens instantly. “you sound just like them.”

“maybe because they’re right!” he falls to silence, heavy and sharp. you keep going anyway. “every time somebody says something you don’t like, you throw a fucking tantrum and everyone else has to deal with it.”

“watch your mouth.”

“or what?” you shoot back. “you gonna yell louder? break something else?”

bakugou steps closer until you’re forced back against the edge of his desk. “you’re really starting to piss me off.”

“good.” you shove a finger against his chest. “maybe somebody should instead of kissing your ass all the time.” his jaw clenches hard. “you act like such a fucking brat.”

“say that again.”

“you heard me.”

his hand suddenly grabs your wrist. “careful.” and before you can think better of it, you slap him hard across the face.

the sound echoes through the office. both of you freeze. your own breathing stops for a second as bakugou’s head turns slightly from the impact. the red mark spreading across his cheek makes your stomach immediately drop.

oh fuck.

his grip on your wrist loosens instantly. you yank your hand back like you’d burned it on a stove or something. “shit—katsuki, i—”

he says absolutely nothing, which honestly feels ten times worse than if he were to yell; for once you found yourself praying for that same anger.

your panic spikes immediately. “fuck, i didn’t mean to actually—i just—you grabbed me and i—” you drag both hands over your face aggressively. “jesus christ.”

bakugou still hasn’t moved. he’s just staring at you with this unreadable expression that makes you even more nervous. “look, i’m sorry, okay?” you ramble quickly. “that was too far. i know that was too far.” you’re met with nothing but silence. “please just say something.” his jaw shifts slightly.

then your eyes drop and immediately narrow. there’s a very obvious bulge pressing against the front of his slacks.

you blink once, staring without even realising it. your brain genuinely fails to process it for a solid second because there is no fucking way you’re seeing this correctly. your eyes slowly lift back up to his face. bakugou looks murderous and absolutely embarrassed. the tips of his ears are bright red now, chest rising heavier than before, teeth clenched so tight it looks painful.

“…oh my god,” you breathe out in disbelief.

“don’t.” he warns instantly.

your expression twists into something between surprise and amusement. “you masochistic asshole.”

“shut the fuck up, y/n.” 

you actually laugh once out of pure shock, staring at him like he’s lost his damn mind. “i slap you and you get a boner? what kind of fucking issues do you have?”

“i said shut the fuck up.” his voice comes out rougher this time.

you smirk meanly. “aw, is somebody embarrassed?”

“keep talking and see what happens.”

“what, you gonna get harder?” that’s what finally does it.

bakugou grabs your jaw roughly and crashes his mouth against yours before you can say another word. it’s all teeth and frustration and way too much force, like he’s trying to shut you up through pure aggression alone. your back slams against the desk hard enough to shake it slightly. you kiss him back just as violently.

his hand tangles into your hair instantly, gripping tight while your mouths clash messily. every breath is hot and angry, lingering adrenaline and unresolved tension from the conferance finally boiling over into something worse…or maybe better. you can practically feel how irritated he is about wanting this, which is exactly the reason you grin against his mouth.

in a sort of experiment, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug hard. bakugou actually groans. not even subtle either. the sound punches straight out of his chest before he can stop it, hips jerking forward against yours automatically. his fingers dig into your waist. “fuck—”  the entire balance of power shifts the second you notice that tiny loss of composure. 

your eyes narrow slightly against his mouth, almost amused now, while bakugou immediately looks pissed that he made that sound at all. his grip tightens hard enough to bruise as if he can physically force himself back into control through sheer aggression. “don’t look at me like that,” he growls.

“like what?” you ask innocently, though the smugness bleeding through your voice ruins the act completely. his jaw clenches. 

bakugou kisses you again before you can keep talking. one hand slides up to your throat—not squeezing, just holding—while the other stays locked tight on your waist. it’s possessive, controlling even. a kiss that feels more like he’s trying to overpower you than anything romantic.

naturally, you kiss him back harder. your fingers stay buried in his hair the entire time, nails lightly scraping against his scalp just to feel the way his breathing immediately changes. every tiny reaction only encourages you more. he notices—of course he notices.

his eyes crack open briefly to glare at you through the mess of blond lashes. “you’re enjoying this too much.”

“you’re the one whining.”

“i wasn’t whining.”

you pull sharply again. bakugou’s forehead drops against yours for half a second with a strangled curse under his breath. “fuck you.”

you laugh softly, breath fanning across his mouth. “aw, there he is.”

the look he gives you after that is genuinely unfair, completely wrecked in a way you’ve never seen from him before. within seconds, his hands are on you again, shoving you backwards another step until the backs of your thighs press firmly against the edge of the desk. you barely get the chance to register it before he’s crowding into your space completely, caging you there with his body. 

he kisses you again hard enough to steal the breath straight from your lungs. it’s messy and rough in the best ways possible. his grip slides from your waist to your jaw, thumb pressing harshly against your cheek while he angles your head back how he wants, like he’s trying to control the entire thing. you refuse to let him.

your fingers slip back into his hair again, nails scraping lightly against his scalp before tugging hard and forcing his head back just barely. bakugou’s entire body reacts instantly. a rough sound tears from his throat as his hips jerk forward against yours again, pinning you harder against the desk edge. his hand tightens sharply at your waist. you grin against his mouth immediately.

“oh, you really like that, huh?” you tease, voice mocking and breathless.

“shut—up.” his words break apart with a small, stifled moan when you pull again. this time his eyes actually squeeze shut for a second, face flushed as he bites down helplessly on his bottom lip. the sight goes straight to your head.

“holy shit,” you laugh breathlessly. “you’re fucking pathetic.”

bakugou responds by grabbing underneath your thighs suddenly and hauling you up onto the desk in one rough movement. papers scatter somewhere beside you from the force of it. you barely have time to react before he steps between your legs, forcing them apart with his hips while glaring down at you like he’s pissed off about how affected he is. it honestly just makes this whole thing better.

“wipe that smug look off your face,” he growls.

you tilt your head innocently. “or what?”

his jaw clenches. you can practically see the internal war happening behind his eyes—pride versus desire versus the unbearable fact that you now know exactly how to get under his skin. 

he leans back in, swollen lips this time quickly finding your neck. his teeth sink slowly into your skin as his sucks, large hands splayed across your back and pressing you as tight as possible to his warmth. his hips rock absentmindedly against yours, tongue flattening against the bite with a low whimper. trailing upwards, his lips shift to your jaw, littering a few, wet kisses against your warm skin until he finally comes back to your mouth.

you can still feel his erection pressing hot and heavy into you as he continuously grinds his hips forward almost without thinking. bakugou’s breathing hitches just barely when you trail one hand teasingly to rest over his throat, pressing your fingers down just enough to elicit a reaction. 

he only kisses you harder at that, tongue shoving itself down your throat in a sloppy attempt to gain control. one hand snakes to grip the back of your neck while the other stays spread across your lower back, the warmth from his palms spreading languidly throughout your body.

your hand slides back into his hair slowly this time, fingers curling near the nape of his neck before snapping back just enough to make his breathing catch. bakugou immediately grabs your wrist, not to stop you, but rather to hold it there. “quit fucking doin’ that,” he says lowly, voice rough.

your smile turns wicked. “say please.”

the words catch him completely off guard, eyes widening incrementally. he growls in frustration, biting into his lower lip and refusing to give into your antics.

the hand around your wrist keeps your fingers trapped in his hair while he crowds closer between your legs, still trying to prove he has the power here. your only goal is to prove he doesn’t. you quickly wrap your legs around his hips and lock him in place, trailing one hand to forcefully tilt his jaw just slightly downward, towards you. you tighten your leg’s grip on him as much as you can go, leaving absolutely no space between your bodies.

his reaction is immediate. a rough breath punches from his chest, eyes squeezing shut. his grip tightens sharply around your waist, fingertips digging into the fabric of your clothes. you feel him hesitate for half a second, crimson eyes staring through eyebrows drawn taut into an almost pathetic look. his cheeks are entirely flushed now, a small bead of sweat slipping down his temple.

“don’t get cocky on me, dynamight.” you growl, tugging his face closer to yours with a bruising grip. 

he lets out the most pathetic sound at that, hips stuttering into yours as his forehead drops to your shoulder.  “s-shit—” he whimpers pitifully into your shirt, breath ragged as his entire body practically gives out. tiny strings of breathless whimpers and broken moans push past his lips as he rocks his hips forward with a declining speed, scarred hand spread over your lower back and keeping you flush against him. small sparks sizzle at his palms as he nuzzles his face further into your neck.

you glance down only to see a darkened splotch forming over the crotch of his dress pants. and despite how badly you want to deny it—you don’t think you’ve been more attracted to a man than you are at this moment.

“...did you just…” you giggle barely with the words, brain still processing what in the world just happened. bakugou still hasn’t lifted his head from your shoulder, fingertips digging into your sides.

suddenly, there's a knock on the door. 

“d-dyanmight…? is everything…alright in there? the official didn’t mean to offend you—if you could just come finish the meeting—”

“f-fuck off!” he roars, voice still trembling as he comes down from his high.

“sir, this is an important meeting, could you please—”

“what part of ‘fuck off’ do you not get?!” katsuki is quick to cut him off again, sparks crackling at his palms and heating your skin just barely. “i’ll blow the entire fucking office to bits if you don’t leave me the hell alone! fucking extras…” the words trail off quickly, energy already spent.

he’s still breathless when the man finally complies and leaves you alone, footsteps dissipating as he ventures back to what you can only assume is the conference room. bakugou presses his face into the crook of your neck, as if trying to hide from the overwhelming embarrassment of the entire situation. after planting a small, shaky kiss to your skin, he takes one deep, slightly unsteady breath and finally lifts his head once again to meet your gaze.

the look on his face is one you don’t think you’ll ever manage to forget in your entire lifetime. a few spiked strands of hair are plastered to his forehead with sweat, the rest of his hair a ruffly mess atop his head. his pupils are blown so wide you can hardly see those burning red iris surrounding them, eyelids heavy and long lashes drooping over his glassy gaze just barely. flushed cheeks strike a stark contrast between the blond eyebrows curving pathetically just above his eyes. his lips are reddened and glossy with spit. 

this was a side to him you’d never even dreamed of seeing.

without a word, you carefully snake your hand from his hair to cup the side of his face, sympathetically tracing a thumb over his heated cheek. he doesn’t dare to fight back now and instead just leans fully into your touch, gaze staying locked on your own. he takes one last shaky breath before finally speaking again. 

“mention this to another soul…and you’re fucking fired…” he mutters, though theres no real bite to the empty threat. if anything, the overwhelming affection pooling within those striking eyes are only making him sound more insincere about ever letting you leave his side again.

“i won’t baby,” you coo softly, just a slightest teasing hint lacing your sweet tone as you tilt your head incrementally.