bella ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

ask and you shall receive (i really hope you like it!!)

⋆˚꩜｡ unexpected family man

KATSUKI X FEM!READER

synopsis: who knew it would take a daughter to turn him into a softie

❦ tags: girl dad!katsuki, fluff, katsuki is a good father, some swearing, reader and katsuki are married

“Oi. That’s not food, shithead,” Katsuki murmurs roughly, but without any real bite in his tone. He’s using what you’ve recently started calling his ‘Kazue’s voice’— aka the voice he strictly uses when he’s talking with your daughter. It’s not exactly sweet or mellow— after all, it’s still Katsuki you’re talking about— but it’s softer, with a little tilt in the end that betrays the fondness lacing his every word.

The two of them are on the playing mat in your living room, while you supervise from the couch. Kazue is sitting down cross legged, her blonde hair— the exact same shade as her father’s— put up in two pigtails as she fiddles with the toys sprawled all around her. Katsuki is lying on his stomach beside her, only wearing a pair of sweatpants to fight the summer heat— you told him multiple times to turn the AC on, but he refuses to do so when Kazue’s in the room.

He’s not doing much, simply watching over her as she plays on her own, with his cheek resting on his arm. Sometimes she looks at him or hands him a toy and he’s quick to participate in her play pretend. Even if he’ll huff and complain about it, there’s no mistaking the uplifting of his lips every time he realises his daughter is looking for him. Affection mixed with pride twirl in his eyes, making him look more like a regular father rather than the fierce hero kicking villains’ asses for a living.

You raise your head from your book just in time to see him prying a doll from Kazue’s little fist, which earns him a disappointed whine in return and an undecipherable babble that oddly sounds like some sort of scolding. Kazue’s still too little to articulate properly— as of now, her dictionary only consists of Mama, Dada and another bunch of simple words to express her immediate needs— but with the way her nose turns up and her small lips tug into a frown, it’s easy to sense her disapproval.

“Foo!”

“Nice try. You ate an hour ago, brat,” Katsuki snorts, lightly poking her forehead with his finger. It makes Kazue babble some more, but now there’s a gummy smile on her face as she throws herself at him. Katsuki groans at the impact, but brings his arm around her regardless, steadying her as she lies down on his bare chest.

You shake your head in fond exasperation, barely resisting the urge to smile at the adorable sight. “You have to stop calling her a shithead,” you reprimand him softly. “She’ll latch onto it eventually.”

“But she is a shithead.” Katsuki smirks and casts you a look from over Kazue’s head. “Just like her mother.”

You flip him off, which only makes him laugh in response. Your annoyance, however, dies down the moment Katsuki turns his attention back towards your daughter, now all up in his face and patting his cheek with her tiny hand. You see his eyes soften and his smirk fading into a gentler smile, one you had only seen reserved for you before. He leans his head up, pretending to bite at Kazue’s fingers and making her shriek.

This time, there’s nothing stopping the smile from blooming on your lips. Seeing the two of them together like this always makes your heart feel so full and so grateful for what you have.

Without realising, your eyes drift to Katsuki’s ribs, where black ink swirls on ivory skin in the form of your daughter’s name. He had always been iffy about tattoos (“Why would I purposely stain my body? You know how hard I worked for it?”), but there had been no hesitation when he booked the appointment, barely a month after Kazue was born.

(He was also the one who chose the name. After months of researches, of testing names that, for one reason or another, never seemed to stick, it all fell into place one night, as you were lying in bed next to each other. You were on the verge of falling asleep when you felt him shift, his arm draping over your waist and his palm resting on your bump. “What about Kazue?” He had asked, his voice low against your ear. At your questioning hum, he went on. “For the kid. It means blessing or some shit like that. Corny as fuck, but it seems fitting.”

Despite him trying to brush it off, you heard it in his tone— just how much he meant those words. It would still take months for you to meet your daughter, but there was no doubt he was already in love with her.)

“Dada, no!” Kazue protests, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. She narrows her eyes at her father— not looking intimidating in the slightest with her chubby cheeks all puffed out and rosy.

“You’re the one slapping my face, brat. I can’t even defend myself now?” Katsuki retorts, in a feigned offended tone.

You breathe out a laugh, placing a bookmark in between the pages of your book before pushing it aside. The sound seems to catch Kazue’s attention, because it only takes her a second to turn around and make grabby hands at you. “Mama…”

You hum softly. “What, sweetie? Is Dada being mean again?”

“Oi, who the fuck are you calling mean?” Katsuki scoffs, while Kazue nods her head, smiling at her father’s expense. Katsuki sighs in defeat, but when his eyes meet yours, he flashes you one real, genuine smile. His free hand pats the spot beside him, urging you to get up and join them on the floor.

Kirishima is your friend group’s designated boyfriend.

He’s the only man unanimously approved to hang out with the girls without question. Not because he demands it, but because everyone trusts him completely. He naturally falls into the role of protector when he’s out with you and your friends. Casually stepping closer whenever a weird guy gets too comfortable at the bar or club. Most of the time, he doesn’t even have to say anything. One look at his height, his broad shoulders, and his calm-but-unmoving presence is enough to make them back off.

He’s also the boyfriend you call when the night is over. When heels hurt, makeup is smudged, and everyone’s tired and giggly, Kirishima is already on the way. He makes sure no one gets left behind, driving you all home safely—or back to your shared apartment, where air mattresses and extra blankets are already laid out for a big, hungover sleepover. He removes your makeup and manoeuvres you into some pyjamas before he cuddles a drunken you to sleep. There’s always water, painkillers, and a loose plan for breakfast in the morning.

When your friend’s car became undriveable from a blown tire, she didn’t even hesitate. She called your boyfriend, Kirishima; panicked, but certain he’d know exactly what to do. Thirty minutes later, he showed up with a jack and a calm smile, rolling up his sleeves as if he’d done this a hundred times.

“I learned how to do it for y/n,” he said, tightening the bolts. “You never know when she might be in trouble.”

That’s just how he is.

Your friends compare every man they meet to him; whether it’s fair or not.

“He didn’t bring me home.”

“Kirishima would’ve checked if I got back safe.”

“He didn’t even offer to help.”

“Y/n said the first date felt magical…suggesting fast food is not magical.”

They groan dramatically.

Your friends say it all the time:

- “I’m waiting for my Kirishima to come along.”

- “Sorry, my standards were raised by Kirishima.”

- “y/n and Kirishima are basically our parents.”

IN WHICH you and your ex boyfriend get partnered up for a statistics project

includes k. bakugou

cw: college au, kys jokes, arguing, cursing, bakugou does not have it in him to be mean to u.... crickets, might be ooc i havent wrote for him in 4-ish years, for his bday so its a little rushed..

`ঔঌ. if there’s something you regret about volunteering to teach at the academy, it’s telling your students about your crush on firelord!zuko

well… you didn’t outright tell them. they simply figured.

as a part of the advising staff at the palace and someone with skill in bending, you volunteered to help out and teach at the academy. however, due to your affiliation with the palace and simply because the academy helped with the military, it was only natural for the fire lord to occasionally pay a visit while the others were set to recess.

and when he would pay said visits, of course he would chat with you… for a decent period of time that would make eyebrows raise from people passing by.

the girls you helped train knew you grew up alongside the fire lord since your father was an advisor, so naturally they came to their own assumption. you’d also—on occasion—mention things of your childhood, and how you and zuko would help each other out with firebending, to encourage teamwork.

turns out the only thing that encouraged, was more questioning over your relationship to the fire lord.

“you have a new brooch, instructor… quite nice.” a student remarked, examining the back of your head where the brooch a certain fire lord have gifted you, held your hair together.

“thank you… it was a gift from a close friend of mine.”

“so the fire lord… he gives you quite the amount of gifts, instructor.”

you laughed awkwardly. “i guess so…”

and it was true, and something that has been bothering you. well—not bothering, so to speak, rather something that’s been on your mind.

zuko has been much more… clingy? attached to you? sure, you worked alongside your father in advising, but recently he’s been more generous with giving you things. he’s gotten you over 20 pieces of jewelry and has treated you out to dinner 10 times in the past month.

usually, you’d feel grateful and think nothing of it… except for the fact that the council is currently working on getting zuko a betrothed. a partner to be alongside him.

they want zuko to get married… and here he is, buying you things and treating you out… almost like he’s courting you?

and of course with no other girl friends to tell (since they’re all busy), you’ve accidentally let it slip to the girls you teach… with an alias. lee.

so not only would you mention how you grew up with the fire lord, but you’d also talk about lee. and how both of them give you gifts! (it was beginning to be such a mess, you didn’t even know how to differentiate your white lie).

and of course you’ve talked all about how lee is so handsome. how yeah, he’s a bit of a hothead (no pun intended) and dramatic sometimes, but how he’s so kind. how he’s so pretty too… and how you sorta, maybe, kinda wished he’d look your way.

“so are you two datinggg?” one chirped out, drawing out ‘dating’ to elicit a reaction from you.

your eyebrows furrowed; you were in the middle of teaching the girls when they began with their questions.

“dating who?” “the fire lord, silly!”

and that’s when your expression dropped. “what?”

“or are you two engaged?” “is this a unrequited love?” “are you two childhood sweethearts?” “what’s lee gonna say about this? ouuuu!”

“unless… lee’s the fire lord!” oh good god…

one of them tilted their head to the side, looking behind you. “yeah, i can see why he drives you crazy. he’s quite cute in person.”

“who drives who crazy?” you felt your body freeze and turned slowly, to see zuko. there he was in all his glory, towering behind you with his arms crossed and an amused and surprised inkling of a smile on his face.

“o-oh! my lord! what brings you here so early?”

“hello, instructor. i just wanted to pass by as i was on my way to speak to the headmaster… how’s training today? is that what’s driving you crazy?”

and before you could even turn around to probably scold your students, they left running and giggling.

“they’re… uh— proficient.”

he hummed. “proficient… i see. well, i suppose you’ll have to tell me more about this during dinner, y/n. unless you do not want to join me. i’d be quite sad if you didn’t.”

you blinked. “oh! of course!”

he smiled teasingly. “you have to tell me more about this… person who drives you crazy.”

seriously… if there’s anything you regret about volunteering to teach at the academy, it’s insinuating to your students about your crush on the fire lord.

.

.

.

request made here !!

sukuna smelt it before he heard it. the sweet smell of cookies filled his nose, as well as his taste buds. then he heard it. the soft munching coming from behind him.

at this point he was wide awake, the familiar scent filling the bedroom making it impossible for him to ignore whatever was happening next to him.

he rolled over, blanket covering up to his neck as he kept his head on the pillow, pink hair sprawled across it.

then he saw you. back against the headboard, blanket covering only up to your knees, letting him see you swallowed by his shirt, along with your bare thighs in the dark. only they weren’t exactly bare.

sitting atop your thighs was a box of sugar cookies, first row already gone as you stuffed the last one into our mouth, looking off into the darkness of the room.

sukuna was just staring at you, eyes threatening to close as he fought off sleep.

you still hadn’t noticed your boyfriend next to you drilling holes in the side of your head as you reached for the fourth cookie in the second row.

“ahem.” sukuna cleared his throat, hoping to get to you notice him and give some sort of explanation on what you were doing eating cookies in the middle of the night.

you slowly turn your head to him, eyes locked on the dark corner of the room as you zoned out, grabbing another cookie from the box.

sukuna quickly shoot his hand up, covering your mouth before you could shove it in. your eyes snapped to him, finally looking at him.

“woman. what the fuck are you doing?”

you pushed his hand away, crumbs getting on his fingers as you mumbled about how hungry you were before taking a bite out of the cookie.

“you’re hungry?” sukuna shifted a little, leaning over your legs to squint at the clock on your bedside table. “baby, it’s 2 in the morning. why’re you eating cookies at 2 in the morning?”

you could only shrug your shoulders, nudging the half eaten cookie towards sukuna’s mouth.

sukuna let out a loud sigh, obviously not happy with your lack of response. he still opened his mouth though, waiting for you to feed him the cookie.

you finally cracked a smile, staring down at your boyfriend who was now shoving himself onto your thigh, hair brushing the edge of the box before mumbling “make sure you go to sleep soon.” into the plush of your thigh, sleep laced in his voice as he scooted himself closer towards you.

ꉂ ᵎᵎ cw/tw: 18+ (suggestiveness), #1 pro-hero!teasing!ex!izuku, fem!pro-hero!bratty!no nonsense!reader, established relationship, fluffy, flirting, terms of endearment, banter

ꉂ ᵎᵎ a/n: blow him up. now

ꉂ ᵎᵎ synopsis: calling your (annoying) crush (ex-boyfriend) and asking him out on a date for $100

ꉂ ᵎᵎ w/c: 700~

“excuse me, miss?”

oh god— paparazzi? how was this even possible? you were in civilian clothes, your hair was styled completely differently than usual— was this some sort of stalker? you swear, you were gonna—

“if i gave you one hundred dollars, would you call up your crush right now and ask them out on a date?”

your eyes flick over to the small mic in his hand, then to the guy trailing behind him with an iphone camera. oh. a tiktoker. you had seen a couple of these videos before. your gaze returns back to their faces— blank, unrecognizing. did they really not know who you were? huh. fall out of the top ten for one season and suddenly you’re taking the cold plunge into obscurity...

you clear your throat, fighting back a smirk.

“my crush?” you echo, a soft laugh slipping out. you fish out your phone from your pocket, teeth catching your lower lip as you thought the proposition over. “it’s my ex, though, so…”

“ah, really?” the guy laughs with you, “why’d y’all break up? you guys on good terms?”

“we’re good,” you explain cooly. “we just work a lot... makes a relationship… difficult.”

your fingers move languidly over your screen, already bracing yourself for how unbearably smug izuku was going to be about this.

“i don’t even know if he’s going to pick up right now…”

*♪♫♪*

“deku speaking.”

husband!sukuna: since baby!yuji started walking

sukuna has had no personal space.

currently he’s waking up to a pink haired blob tapping his face.

“hiiiiiii” his one year old speaks, chubby cheeks pulled into a smile.

sukuna groans swatting yuji off of his face.

yuji just giggles rolling over to do the same to you.

pat.pat.pat.

“mamamamama” you wake to your sons incessant babbling.

you smile up at him through slitted eyes still filled with sleep.

sukuna rips your son off of you only holding him by his back collar in the air.

“it’s too early for this” he grimaces at yuji.

yuji just kicks his legs smiling and clapping at his achievement of rousing the both of you.

you tut at sukuna for handling your baby like a parcel and grab yuji bringing him into your arms.

“how did you get here baby?” you question.

yuji being at that stage where toddlers converse yet make no sense rambles on about his secret heist of sneaking in here.

“yeah yeah gonna bite our ears off this kid” your husband rolls his eyes laying back down on his stomach.

yuji crawls out of your lap and climbs onto sukuna’s back patting his face harder than before.

almost smacking it.

you hold back a chuckle behind your hand.

sukuna narrows his eyes at you dramatically pouty and then in a few motions he’s got baby yuji beneath him.

your husband with his strong tattooed arms starts play fighting with his son and blowing raspberries onto his stomach muttering dangerously,

“you want a fight tough guy?”

yuji erupts into giggles shooting his arms and legs back up as if truly in a wrestling match.

you smile glancing away to look at the time.

6.00 am.

sigh this kid does not rest.

firefly; overdosing on that dad!kuna pill ❀ུ͏  

In which you jump out of a moving car to spite Boyfriend!Sukuna

“—because he was just making conversation!”

Sukuna scoffs, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Bullshit. That guy wanted to fuck you.”

“Oh my god. So what!” you yell. “It’s not like I was gonna fucking let him!”

“Coulda fooled me.”

Just like that, your angry face, which matches his, warps into one of calm decision. With speed he doesn’t see coming, you unbuckle your seatbelt, push open the passenger door and jump out of the moving car into the dead of night.

The car screeches to a halt not even a second later. 

You’re pushing yourself up and testing the soreness in your ankle when a car door slams shut and Sukuna comes marching over to you. “You crazy, fucking bitch!” he snaps. Sukuna grabs your face, growling when you try to pull away. He inspects every inch of you, brows furrowed, and piercings glinting under the streetlights. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“I got a bitch ass boyfriend, that’s what’s wrong with me,” you grumble.

He ignores that. “You break anything? Wrist? Ankle? Dislocated your shoulder?” You shake your head. “Well, that’s a fucking shame.” Though as he says that, he can’t quite hide the tremors in his hands. Quieter now, he mutters with a tight frown, “Scratched your pretty face up. Fuck. Lost your one redeeming quality.”

“Okay, so I’m gonna walk home,” you say, deadpan. “I’ll see you around, asshole.” 

Sukuna runs a hand through his hair with a frustrated noise. Then he smacks his lips against yours before you can actually start walking away (not that he’d let you get very far). “Alright, alright. You fucking win. Congrats. Christ. Get back in the car — we’re going to the hospital to get you checked out. Fucking dumbass.”

A hospital visit later, you’re in bed with him, cuddled up like nothing happened. It’s how arguments with him tend to go; neither of you really hold grudges against each other. Not when you’ve fucked any grievances out after. The last mention of today’s incident, however, comes in his sleepy mumble against the top of your head: “push me out instead.”

“Hmm?”

Sukuna’s hold around your body tightens, threatening to suffocate you with his hard chest. “Don’t jump out of the car. It’s stupid. Your body’s weak. Skin bruises easily. Cuts easily too. Just kick me out instead. I deserve it, I know... bonus points if it's into oncoming traffic.”

“Okay, will do.”

“Thank you, baby.”

content. smau. profanity & sarcasm. fluff. getting together. crack. mention of drinking + hangovers + getting blackout drunk. don’t pay attention to the picture - pretend it’s you and bkg lol. kirimina. bakugou katsuki is Chalant and i will Die on that hill. also literally do not pay attention to the time stamps, i’m sure some of the are fucked up and wrong (it’s midnight and i’m exhausted).

content. mention of drinking + clubbing + hangovers. awkwardness. katsuki is Not nonchalant. katsuki calls mina an “alchie” as a joke. <- | SERIES MASTERLIST / GEN MASTERLIST | ->

about. you’re the bombshell katsuki tells her not to worry about. i just wanted to hop on the love island!bakugou trend because i finally managed to catch up and watch some.

warnings. suggestive. minors & ageless blogs do not interact. implied cheating but not really bc it’s love island, british slang lol, lap dances, making out, saucy outfits & fem!reader.

the girl bakugou couples up with has been worried about you from the moment you first stepped into the villa.

and rightly so.

you’ve had almost every boy charmed since your arrival. kirishima made you lunch on your first day, todoroki and sero eagerly followed you for a chat by the pool to express their interest in you at the party hosted in your honour on night one. but you, you had your sights set on katsuki bakugou.

as a bombshell, you’d been given the power to choose any guy you wanted to take on a first date to the sandy shores of Majorca — with crystal clear waters, fresh fruits and champagne as your wingmen. and while you had initially picked bakugou for his sharp jaw line, mysterious wine red eyes and obviously the rest of his good looks (those abs looked like they were taken straight from a magazine) you were pleasantly surprised by how warm he was. his eye contact was strong, the raspy lilt to his voice was both alluring and calming and he seemed genuinely interested in you as a person and not because you were his type down on paper (though that was a bonus).

“and i hate how nobody has any initiative! i ask for them to get the plan done before i come back and…”

it’s hot outside, but now you’re burning up for a whole new reason. your boyfriend of two years, giving you all his attention, humming in response, “and what?” this deep syrupy growl when he replies.

he’s got a fresh hair cut, smells amazing, a shine of sweat on his chest and he’s confused why you’ve just stopped.

you’re realising once again, you’ve got a crush on your boyfriend.

“oh… er…. what was i saying? wow it’s hot out here.” and you’re fanning yourself, looking away from him to take a breath.

he’s slightly out of breath, waiting at the exit where you come out, “i saw foxes around the corner. fuckin’ loads of ‘em.”

you kiss his cheek and he ducks to kiss yours, “hey katsuki.”

he hums, “hey baby.”

“did you get any pictures of the foxes?”

content. wc / 2k. drinking + clubbing. mawa is a lightweight. shindo appearance. inappropriate dancing. mention of kissing. <- | SERIES MASTERLIST / GEN MASTERLIST | ->

The club is loud, and your head already hurts.

Mawa is three shots deep, talking at an unreasonably loud volume (lightweight), and Yuyu is standing beside you, staring down at their phone.

The glass in your hand is damp with condensation, wetting your palm. It feels gross, and the drink isn’t that good either, but you down it anyway, throwing your head back with a grimace. It’s some fruity drink, gifted to you by the bartender, who could tell you were having a “rough night,” in his words.

You’d resisted the urge to roll your eyes and taken it from his hands before he could say anything worse, like ask for your number.

“And also,” Mawa continues whatever rant she’s been raving about for the past five minutes, “he doesn’t even do the homework. He uses ChatGPT. Isn’t that so dumb? I don’t know how he even graduated undergrad, let alone get in to post-grad.”

You nod along, not quite paying attention. A part of you feels bad for almost blantantly ignoring your friend, but you can’t be fucked to listen properly. You want to get drunk—so drunk, if you recall correctly, that you forget your own name.

And his, if it’s at all possible.

It’s stuck in your head, playing on repeat like a broken record. It’s more annoying than anything. And it hurts a little. You didn’t even talk to him for that long, yet his presence has been looming in the background ever since he showed up to gour apartment.

You clench your fist at your side and make your way back to the bar. You order a round of shots: one for Mawa, one for Yuyu, amd two for yourself.

If you want to enjoy yourself, you need to get drunk. Fast.

“Dude,” Yuyu says, looking up from her phone with a groan, “Miko is completely pissed off that I’m here right now.” She grabs the shot glass from you, making no expression as the liquid slides down their throat. “I told her we were going out and she freaked out, like I was going to a lesbian BDSM club for singles, or something.”

“Woah, this is a BDSM club?” Mawa asks, brows raising. She looks around discreetly, then nods. “Lucrative.”

“No,” you say flatly, handing her one of the glasses. She shrugs and swallows it, gagging faintly. “Miko’s being crazy, as usual. I need more alcohol.”

Yuyu furrows her brows. “You have two shots in your hands,” they point out.

You look down. Oh, yeah. You drink them quickly, back-to-back, then shake your head as if the action will make the taste go away.

“Let’s dance,” Mawa says, smiling as she grabs both of your arms, pulling. You share a glance with Yuyu, then giggle and let Mawa lead you to the dance floor. She navigates her way to the middle, then gasps, and turns to you, shouting, “I love this song!”

You lose yourself to the beat of the song—just a little bit. Mawa is grinning, laughing in your ear, Yuyu is swaying to the music, a little more conservative than what the song calls for.

You’re not drunk yet, just a little tipsy, but you laugh with Mawa as if you are. Your hands are in the air, your throwing your head side-to-side, your hips are moving on their own accord. Okay, this is fun; you still know your name, unfortunately, but you’re not thinking of anything else. This was a great idea.

Mawa stumbles into you, pushing you backwards into something—someone. You turn around to apologize, sending Mawa a quick glare. “Sorry,” you shout to the black-haired man, leaning into him, “My friend is a lightweight.”

He smiles, laughs, then ducks down to your ear. “S’alright. I’d get knocked into over and over again if it meant I had the smallest chance of meeting you.” He leans back with a shit-eating grin, winking smugly.

“That was smooth,” you say, letting out an incredulous laugh as you nod. “I’m Y/n. That’s Mawa and Yuyu.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n. I’m Shindo. Wanna dance?”

Why does that name sound familiar? You squint up at him, trying to decipher whether you know him or not, but the room isn’t bright enough for you to get a good look. You glance back at your friends, only to find them giving you thumbs up and encouraging smiles.

You turn back to him, and shrug. “Why not?”

Dancing with Shindo is… intoxicating, to say the least. His hands are all over your body, his breath in your ear—it’s like he can’t get enough of you. It feels wrong. He feels wrong. This isn’t the right person. You close your eyes and imagine—

Imagine who? Katsuki? Your body stutters, out of rhythm, and Shindo pulls back, tilting his head. “Everything okay?”

You nod your head violently, like it will dispel the thoughts, and press your lips together. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m gonna go get another drink, want anything?”

“Nah, but I’ll go with you. Can’t have some other guy sweeping you off your feet when I’m gone.” He winks again, and this time it makes you feel sick.

He guides you through the crowd, your hand in his, and you start to disassociate. Why are you here? Why are you dancing with some random guy? Why do you think drinking is going to solve all of our problems? You’re still going to wake up tomorrow morning, head full of Katsuki. You let your grip loosen on him as you finally get to the bar.

He asks you what you want, and you mumble back your answer, looking around the dark room to avoid his eyes. Still, you can’t really see anything, can’t make out any faces. It’s kind of disorienting.

Shindo hands you your drink, and you chug it, hoping it’ll make this feeling of unease go away. He lets out a low whistle, bending down to whisper, “I like a girl that can handle her alcohol.”

It makes you shiver, and not in a good way. You ignore him and drag him back out onto the dance floor, facing away from him as he pushes his body against yours.

Please don’t say anything.

Please don’t say anything.

Please don’t say anything.

One moment he’s there, and the next his body heat is gone. You turn around to find—

“Katsuki?”

The blonde isn’t looking at you. He’s saying something to Shindo that you can’t quite hear. God, that drink is hitting you fast. Shindo puts his hands up in defense, still smiling, then looks at you and walks away.

“What are you doing here?” You ask Katsuki, brows furrowed. “It’s creepy and illegal to stalk someone. Thought you would have known that, being a pro and all.”

He tears his gaze away from Shindo, looking at you incredulously. “Stalki—? I’m not stalking you,” he growls , barely audible over the music. “Mina dragged all of us here tonight. Why were you dancin’ with him?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Why does it matter? You’re not my boyfriend.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself. He grabs your arm and starts pulling you away from the dance floor, ignoring your protests. He stops when you get to a corner, near the bathrooms.

“Why are you being so fuckin’ stubborn, Y/n? You can’t hate me forever. I apologized. What else d’you want from me?”

“I…” You trail off. What are you supposed to say now? You want him. You’re pissed off, yes, but you still want him. You want him to grovel. You want him to beg for your forgiveness. You want him to drop down to his knees and cry.

Jesus. Is it getting hot in here? You take a deep breath, but even to you it sounds like a gasp for air. Your eyes dart across his face: his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, his lips. He looks so good tonight.

“Kiss me,” you mumble, meeting his eyes. “Kiss me, Katsuki.”

He hesitates, eyes narrowed. His Adams apple bobs as he swallows. “No,” he says, taking a step back. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” you argue. “I had three—four drinks. Just kiss me.” You take a step forward and put your arms around his neck, his cologne overpowering the prolonging stench of stale beer and body odor. “Katsuki, kiss me. Please.”

He looks away from you. You can tell he’s struggling with himself right now. You know he wants to kiss you, so why isn’t he?

“I’m not gonna take advantage of you when your mind isn’t clear,” he says eventually, putting his hands on your waist. Warm and big. “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone so I can unblock myself. You want me to kiss you, you’ll have to wait. C’mon, hand it over.”

You unwrap yourself from him and narrow your eyes. “What if I don’t want to unblock you? What if I just wanna get my rocks off with you in the bathroom and call it quits, hm? What then?”

He drags a hand down his face, groaning. “Now I know you’re fuckin’ drunk. Stop being a brat and give me your phone.”

“Do I get a reward for listening?” You smile sweetly. “Like, I don’t know, a kiss?”

“I’m not gonna kiss you for the first time in some fuckass club while you’re drunk, Y/n.”

You can tell he’s over it from the tone of his voice. It almost makes you feel like getting a lecture from your principal—if the principal was hot and jacked and a pro-hero who’s saved hundreds of people. You reach into your bag, frowning as you hand over your phone.

He hands it back to you after a moment and you stare at him blankly. "Now what?" You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself. You don't know why you suddenly feel so self conscious, but his eyes are burning into your skin.

He crosses his arms, mirroring your earlier movement, and sighs. "I don't know. What do you want to do? Go back to your friends? Go home? I can take you guys back."

You shake your head. "No, no. Mawa and Yuyu deserve a girls night. I'll probably go back to dancing with them."

"Just them?" He's trying so hard to be nonchalant, but it's not working in the slightest.

"Yes, Katsuki," you laugh out, "just my friends. Are you... are you going home? Or are you going to watch me dance all night?"

He clicks his tongue, looking away, and you laugh at him again.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay, 'Suki?" You put a hand on his bicep, squeezing slightly. It's meant to be a reassuring touch for him, but your eyes widen at the muscle. "Jesus," you mumble under your breath, letting your hand fall back to your side.

"Hey, uh, listen," you say, looking down. "This doesn't mean I fully forgive you, by the way. You still have a long way to go. And I expect full transparency from here on out. If you still don't want anything serious, let me know right now."

"I call you every night, go out of my way to visit you at work, and I showed up to your apartment to say sorry," he says, almost scoffing. You look up to find a small, almost imperceptible smile on his face. "I want you, Y/n. Swear it."

"Okay," you say with a nod."

content. yay more angst. profanity & sarcasm. mention of drinking / getting drunk. denki is an instigator. mina and bakugou make up. <- | SERIES MASTERLIST / GEN MASTERLIST | ->

content. wc / 1k. profanity (a lot). katsuki’s POV. more angst. katsuki is really bad at feelings. self doubt. mention of crazy ex-girlfriends (camie). reader cries. failed apologies. <- | SERIES MASTERLIST / GEN MASTERLIST | ->

Katsuki hates this. Every part of it.

Waiting in traffic. The way his knuckles are white with how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. The beat of the song that plays quietly on his radio. The way his stomach hurts.

He shouldn’t even have to do this. He was clear with his intentions before you even started hanging out with him.

Wasn’t he?

He’s looked through all of your messages. He knows he told you, but he can’t find it. He probably told you on that stupid dating app. Yeah, he definitely told you on there. Somewhere before you ranted to him about the unethical intentions of hero society.

He grits his teeth. How could he be so stupid? Letting you catch feelings for him. Catching feelings for you. He hasn’t admitted that to anyone—he won’t. He doesn’t have time for feelings. Being a pro is too dangerous, too time consuming. He wants to be the best as much as he doesn’t want to put anyone through that.

So why is he driving to your apartment? Why is he rehearsing an apology in his head? Why does he feel sick?

He slams the car door shut, locks it, and moves his hat to shield his face. The last thing he needs right now is someone recognizing him.

Four floors up, down a hallway, and he’s standing at your door. He’s only been here once before; he’s not even sure how he remembered the way.

He raises his hand to knock, but pauses. What’s he supposed to say?

“Sorry for leading you on?”

“Sorry my crazy ex-girlfriend texted you?”

“Sorry I’m a fucking asshole?”

His hand falls back to his side, his head falling as well. He’s never been good at apologizing. He’s going to make a fool of himself, he knows it. Should he cut his losses and leave?

He squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment, then turns on his heel to leave. What he doesn’t expect to see, is you standing there.

“Katsuki?”

His eyes widen, and he’s frozen. You look so… defeated. Pale and exhausted. He did this? Why are you so torn up over a guy you’ve known for two weeks? Why is he so torn up?

“What are you doing here?”

“I—” his throat feels tight. Apologize. Apologize. “You look like shit.”

What?

You press your lips together, lashes fluttering as you look down. “Yeah,” you mumble, nodding once. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, words tumbling out before he can stop them. You look up, surprised, and he cringes at himself. “I— I came here to apologize. To you. For bein’ an ass. And for Camie. She’s crazy.”

You don’t say anything.

“I didn’t…” He didn’t what? He didn’t mean to lead you on? He didn’t mean for all of this happen? He didn’t mean to show up at your apartment?

He sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “I’m shit at apologies,” he says, “but I am sorry. For… everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really…”

“Yeah,” you interrupt him. “You really liked me, but you don’t want anything serious. It’s fine, I get it. You can go now.”

His brows furrow. “What?”

“I said you can go,” you repeat, avoiding his gaze. “It’s over. We had our fun. You’re… It’s fine. You have no responsibility towards me and there’s no reason for you to be apologizing. I should have known you were only—”

“I wasn’t, though,” he says quickly, taking a step forward. “Camie told you I was just using you for your body, right? She’s fuking insane, okay? I wasn’t. I liked… hanging out with you. And talking to you.”

He feels like he’s going to throw up. This is humiliating. He feels too vulnerable. He needs to get the hell out of here.

“You weren’t?”

Your voice cracks and Katsuki gets a cramp in his stomach. When you finally meet his eyes, yours are glazed over. Crying. You’re crying. You’re crying? Fuck, this is too much for him.

“I wasn’t. I’m not. I— I don’t… fuck, Y/n, tell me what to say.”

He takes another step forward, now only a foot away from you. Your eyes are wide again.

“Tell me what to say to make things better. I didn’t want to hurt you, okay? That was never my plan. And I’m not using you just to get a good fuck in. I like talking to you.”

“I— what? Katsuki, what do you want me to say?” Your brows furrow, and he realizes you’re angry. “You’re such a fucking— ugh! We talked every night for two weeks straight. I met your friends the first time we hung out. You come to my job, claiming it’s on your route, but I know it’s out of your way. You don’t patrol by the hospital, Mina told me.”

He doesn’t know what to say.

“You keep telling everyone you don’t want anything serious?” You narrow your eyes, raising a finger to poke him in the chest. “Be a fucking man, then; own up to it. Don’t lead girls on just because you can.”

You brush his shoulder as you walk by. He listens to the jingle of your house keys as you unlock your door.

“Go home, Katsuki. I blocked you for a reason.”

And then the door slams shut. And Katsuki is standing in the hallway, fists clenched at his side, teeth grinding against each other. What exactly was he expecting? For you to run into his arms? Forgive him and go back to how everything was?

In his fucking dreams.

He jogs down the stairs, chest heaving. He basically just poured his heart out to you. God, that’s so embarrassing. He doesn’t know if he can ever show his face around here again. When he gets in his car, his hand pauses just before the start button.

What the hell is he supposed to do now?