𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 stardrift ⋆ ۪

you have always been aware of the fact that your boyfriend had dyed hair, after mina had told you that she went to the same middle school as him and showed you photos of him with his natural, black hair.

during summer break, he had invited you over at his parents’ place while they were away, as you lounged over on the couch, watching the tv mindlessly, while eijiro was in the bathroom, the door left open behind him.

he stepped out of the bathroom, stopping in the doorframe of the living room, hands resting on his hips.

“babe, has my hair faded too much?”

you looked up at him, eyes narrowing slightly as you tried to examine his hair, “i think? yeah, it looks a bit more orange right now.”

“i’m trying to give bright red, not copper alloy, y’know.”

eijiro ran a hand over his face, groaning dramatically as he threw his head backward, eyes shut tightly before focusing back on you.

“and i’ve run out of dye, too. used my last box a month ago.”

“can’t we go to the store or something? we’re not in resident evil, the city isn’t abandoned,” you shrugged, your attention drifting back to the tv.

“gonna spend my allowance on some damn dye box, i have like 2000 yen left.”

“a box is like 1000 or something, you have enough money for two.”

“do you expect me to live off of rat shit with the leftover 1000 yen?”

“you got 2 living, loving parents that feed you, by the way.”

“how the hell would you even know?”

“i’m literally sitting on your nice ass couch and you got cable tv and like 3 streaming services, your financial struggles are nonexistent.”

“bakugou would be less mean than you, babe. dating the meanest person in this city, i swear.”

“yeah, and he's the meanest in japan, big difference,” you stood up from the couch, stretching your back.

“i still don’t wanna go to the store.”

“why?”

“what if i accidentally get the wrong shade?”

“…”

“there are like…12 reds.”

“do i look like fucking bob ross to you? unless you somehow get china pink, nobody’s gonna ever notice.”

“proving my exact point.”

reaching over for the remote, you turn off the screen, tossing it back on top of the throw pillow.

“let me get ready at least, i don’t wanna scare the rest of the customers,” you muttered, walking up the stairs.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ ☆ ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

as you two navigated through the hair care aisle of the convenience store down the street from eijiro’s place, you grabbed one of the boxes off the shelf and held it next to the side of his head.

“the lighting in here sucks,” you mumbled.

“so?”

“so, now i can’t tell if this is red, orange or hot pink.”

“didn’t you say nobody would notice?”

“shut up. nah, this one’s too warm, don’t like it,” you put the box back on the shelf.

he picked it up again, looking over at the model’s colorful hair on the front of the box.

“i kinda like this one.”

“that’s because you’re colorblind.”

“i’m not colorblind!”

“get your eyes checked, that’s literally orange.”

“mean…,” he pouted, putting the dye back.

you grabbed another one, holding eijiro’s chin gently as you tried to angle his head, “hasn’t mina dyed your hair before? didn’t you see the shade?”

“she mixed like 3 colors, bro.”

“which three?”

“…red?”

“eiji.”

“red was one of the colors.”

“did you not read the boxes at all?”

“i was trying not to get bleach in my eye, okay.”

you sighed, looking over the red section again before you grabbed a box from the top shelf, this one showing a much more intense and vibrant shade.

“i think this one is close, it looks bright red to me,” you lowered it, turning it over to see the price before handing it over to eijiro.

“do we have to get anything else?”

“gloves?”

“the box comes with gloves.”

“extra gloves?”

“eiji.”

“what if one rips?” he said defensively.

“how aggressively are you planning on dyeing your hair, dude?”

“man, you tell me.”

you rolled your eyes, “should’ve told denki to come over and dye your hair.”

“c’mon, babe, y’know he would’ve made me chopped as shit.”

“right. okay, but seriously, maybe we should get instant ramen, i’m guessing that dyeing your hair would take like two hours or so.”

“oh, right! i want the pork one,” he smiled.

eijiro disappeared around the corner of the aisle before you could remind him that he was the one who complained about spending money.

by the time the two of you finally made it to the register, your shopping basket held a box of hair dye, four packs of instant ramen, two bottles of soda and a bag of chips that eijiro had insisted that both of you would need.

"you know," you said as eijiro unlocked the front door, "for someone who complained about spending money, you sure bought a lot of instant ramen."

"i need sustainment for all these muscles.”

after tossing the groceries into the kitchen and setting the box of dye on the bathroom counter, eijiro glanced over at you.

"so... you know how to do this, right?"

“yeah…no,” you opened the box, turning it upside down and shaking it gently to let the conditioner tube, paper with instructions, bottle of developer, pair of plastic gloves, and the hair dye tube fall onto the bathroom counter.

your boyfriend sat on the closed toilet lid, wearing an old t-shirt that he had ruined months ago with bleach, now being reserved only for occasions like this one as he had his arms crossed to his chest, watching your movements.

“the only thing i'm asking is that you don't make me bald.”

“your hair’s already bleached, maximum this can do is turn you to a tangerine.”

“wow, thanks, babe. really encouraging.”

you hummed in response as you squeezed the tube into the bottle with developer, closing the lid before shaking and placing it back down on the counter as you parted his hair into sections, using your old hair clips, along with using your tube of vaseline to smear a thin layer around his hairline so he didn’t end up with pink ears.

the bathroom smelled overwhelmingly of chemicals as the bottle rested beside the two of you.

"you'd think after all these years they'd invent hair dye that doesn't smell like a science experiment," you muttered, putting the black plastic gloves on and twisting the cap back off.

“i kinda like it.”

“you also eat overpriced protein food willingly.”

“…that’s unrelated.”

"head down."

"yes, boss."

"you sound way too excited."

"someone's touching my hair."

"don't make it weird."

"i'm not!"

"you absolutely are."

squeezing the bottle gently, you dragged the dye along his roots before working it through with your gloved fingers, occasionally making sure that every strand was coated. at the same time, you tried your best to avoid touching his skin, knowing well that dye could stain his skin anyway.

silence settled between you for a moment, broken only by the occasional squelch of dye being worked through his hair.

"...you know," eijiro spoke again, "you're surprisingly gentle."

"well, yeah."

"i thought you'd just dump the whole bottle on my head."

"i considered it."

"i knew it."

"would've saved me like twenty minutes."

"rude."

once you finished coating the last stubborn spike near the back of his head, you checked for a second time that you didn’t miss any spots as you let his head go, pulling your gloves off, as eijiro began wiping the clear vaseline away with a handful of toilet paper squares.

you stepped back, narrowing your eyes.

"okay..."

"what?"

"you kinda look like someone poured tomato soup on your head."

"...is that good?"

"i'll let you know when i wash it off."

you glanced at the instructions, “it says to wait 40 minutes, guess we gotta make use of that ramen you bought.”

when the dried noodle block hit the boiling water inside the pot, it immediately released a starchy smell into the air while you emptied the small seasoning packet, causing the bubbling water to darken as eijiro wandered into the kitchen at the same time. he still had the dye processing in his hair, a thin layer of plastic wrap loosely covering the top of his head after you'd insisted it'd keep him from accidentally touching it.

when the ramen had finished cooking, eijiro had only managed to contribute a running commentary about how good it smelled. sitting down at the dining table, you slid a bowl across the table toward him.

"careful."

"i know."

"you've got hair dye on."

"i know."

"if you scratch your head-"

"i know."

he finished eating before you, continuing to chat with you as you enjoyed your own bowl, letting out the occasional hum of acknowledgment and small nod before the sharp beep of your phone's timer broke the silence.

you glanced down at the screen, "time's up."

"really?"

“mhm.”

by the time you reached the bathroom again, he took off the wrap covering his head as you turned on the tap, adjusting the water until it was comfortably warm before guiding him to lean over the bathtub.

“too hot?”

“nah.”

“too cold?”

“acting as if i’m a baby.”

“you’re the one who asked if we needed extra gloves.”

you directed the spray over his head, the water in the basin immediately turned a deep, bruised crimson. your fingers worked through his roots, parting the strands as the heavy, chemical scent of the dye dissipated into the water. repeating the process a few times, you combed through the heavy, thick strands, before gently separating the damp locks, searching for hidden pockets of dye at the nape of his neck.

you squeezed handfuls of dark-tinted foam from his hair, watching the scarlet water splash against the white porcelain before disappearing in swirling ribbons. with each rinse, the color grew lighter, the stark crimson slowly fading until the water finally ran clear, withdrawing your hand.

turning the shower head away, you tilted your head to the side. with his usual spikes plastered flat against his forehead, you had to stifle a laugh.

“you look weird.”

“what?”

“your hair.”

he tried to reach up to touch his hair instinctively.

“don’t touch it yet.”

“is it bad?”

“no, it’s just…flat.”

you reached for the small conditioner packet that had come tucked inside the box, tearing it open before squeezing the contents into your palm.

eijiro glanced up at you from where he was still leaning over the bathtub.

"that's it?"

"what?"

"that's the whole packet?"

"yeah."

"seems kinda stingy."

“did you want to get a whole bottle of conditioner or something?”

you worked the rich cream through his damp strands, your fingers moving in a deliberate rhythm. you were careful not to pull, gently smoothing the locks away until the stiff, dye-coated spikes had softened beneath your hands, the chemical smell slowly transitioning to the scent of coconut, filling the small space between the two of you.

"doesn't smell like a science experiment anymore," you murmured.

your fingers combed through the last few tangles with practiced care, gently massaging the conditioner into his scalp.

"you okay?" you asked after a moment.

"don't stop."

"i'm literally still doing it."

"just making sure."

grabbing the showerhead again, you angle it towards his hair, "okay, almost done. just need to rinse this out."

"already?"

"you are unbelievably needy."

"i don't hear you complaining."

white bubbles ran down his strands, his hair coated in a smooth, velvety texture as you washed the nape of his neck, cleaning any stubborn residue, before turning off the tap, letting eijiro stand up and look at his reflection in the mirror.

“thank god, it’s red,” he sighed in relief.

“happy?”

“fuck yes. last thing i wanted is to look like a traffic cone.”

he leaned closer to the mirror, his body supported by the sink as he turned his head to the left side, then the other, before stepping back.

“damn. feeling like myself again.”

before you could respond, he turned around, facing you and wrapping you in a hug, his hands gripping your waist, squeezing lightly as he rested his forehead on your shoulder, his damp strands soaking your clothes.

"your hair's still wet."

"worth it."

"you're getting my shirt wet."

"love you too."

he pulled back, hands slipping down to your hips, gently catching your bottom lip between his teeth before kissing you.

“thank you, babe,” he spoke quietly between kisses.

"you owe me."

he blinked, "for what?"

"labor. hairdressers don't work for free."

"i already bought ramen,” he chuckled softly.

"that barely covered consultation,” you replied, hand coming up to cup his jaw as you glanced from his eyes down to his lips.

you kissed him again, hand trailing down his chest to grip the front of his bleached-stained t-shirt, your eyes fluttering shut instinctively.

return to masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

didn't post for a week for this bs btw 🥀

divider credits - @/cursed-carmine

© stardrift ୨୧ do not copy, repost, translate, feed to ai or modify on any other platform. minors do not interact on 18+ posts.

you’re sitting cross-legged on your dorm room floor, your boyfriend’s right hand in your lap as he throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he groans exasperatedly.

“at least open the window or something,” he complains. “the smell’s killingme.”

looking up at him, you smile lightly as you respond, “the window is open, and you’re  just overreacting. i’ve done my nails like a thousand times, and nothing’s ever happened to me.”

“yeah, but like, you’re used to it. i’m obviously not!” denki whines.

“i can tell.”

“hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“sit still.”

denki huffed dramatically but stayed still, fingers twitching every few seconds.

throughout the year, not many classmates have taken katsuki’s nicknames seriously, or even registered them at this point anymore, and even less have gone out of their way to embrace their given nickname. really, there were only two exceptions.

first (and the most obvious), was izuku, who declared his pro-hero name to be “deku”, the same name the blonde had been calling him for years, starting out as an insult.

not a lot of people would want the title that the entire public would know them as to mean “useless”, after all. but who knows? maybe he got attached to the nickname.

and then there was denki.

out of every nickname bakugou had ever thrown around, he somehow chose to latch onto pikachu.

which was exactly why you were currently painting tiny pikachu faces onto his nails.

“how do you think bakugou is gonna react?” he asked as he looked up from his hand to your focused face.

“i don’t know, he’ll probably just make fun of you or something and then move on.”

he held his hand up toward the light, wiggling his fingers dramatically. "he's gonna be so jealous."

you blink. "of your pikachu nails?"

"exactly."

"...denki."

"i'm just saying. confidence is attractive."

“out of all people, you think bakugou would care?” you grab his hand again, resuming painting small pikachu faces and lightning bolts on his nails.

“god forbid a guy can dream…”

his entire face scrunches up as he tries not to sneeze, fearing whatever names you’d call him if he dares mess your careful work up.

"if i move, it's because the fumes got me."

“acting as if i’m doing your nails with straight horse shit, not nail polish,” you snort quietly.

“maybe for you.”

“nobody’s ever died from it, shut up.”

“yeah, well, there’s a first in everything.”

“and it won’t be you, dumbass.”

staying quiet, denki glances at your face again as your tongue pokes out in concentration, the colored bottles arranged in a line beside you, small brush coating his nails yellow.

the tiny crease between your brows appears, as it usually does when you’re focusing too hard. he noticed it months ago, most commonly when you study too hard for an exam or zero in on hero training, eventually becoming one of your habits that he found cute.

absentmindedly, when you let his hand go as you tighten the yellow polish shut, grabbing the white one, he reaches to scratch his nose. he stops just in time, eyes widening as he apologizes fast, lowering his hand back down.

“sorry, babe, y’know i don’t want to smudge your art.”

“if you do, i’m banning you from ever asking me to do your nails again.”

“i promise i won’t,” the boy smiles.

once the lightning bolt on his index finger dries enough for you to move on, you gently turn his hand, angling his thumb toward yourself.

denki watches you for all of three seconds before dramatically letting out another sigh.

"how many nails do you have left?"

"six."

"six?" his eyebrows shoot up. "didn't we start with ten?"

“obviously, unless you have a missing finger i’m not aware of.”

“fuckk…”

“you asked for this, remember.”

“by the time they’re done, gta vi is gonna get released.”

you shake your head, “i wish it would, dude.”

he glances away from you and instead prefers watching whatever cartoon was running right now, eyes fixated on the screen of your tv.

“you’re seriously watching gumball?”

“so what, ashido watches cartoons too!”

“she has good taste, unlike you.”

“gumball is good taste. great, actually.”

“couldn’t you watch some bullshit so i could slander you properly, at least?” you muttered while finishing one of his hands, grabbing his left one.

he drums the fingers of his freshly done hand against the floor before remembering he was supposed to stay still.

"oops."

"denki."

"my bad."

ignoring your boyfriend's constant interruptions, you focus on finishing his middle finger. only two nails remain now. but, given his impatient nature, he keeps trying to tilt his hand every time he looks away from the tv, forcing your hand to grip his fingers tighter.

"can i see?"

"no."

"just one nail?"

"no."

"my own hand?"

"no."

both you and denki ignored the footsteps that are moving around the hallway (you weren’t certain he even registers them, at how engrossed he is on the show), assuming it was just one of your classmates entering their dorm room.

that is until, you hear the door open, even if nobody knocked. you look up, and so does he, only for your eyes to settle on mina.

“whatcha guys-“

she doesn’t get to finish the sentence as she freezes, mouth opening slightly as she glanced from denki’s face to his nails, and then back at his face, before she smiled widely, crouching down next to you two.

“you’re getting pikachu nails??” she leans her head closer, trying to sneak a peek. “wait, let me see!”

you instinctively pull his hand back, “they’re still wet.”

“aww…”

“see, even ashido thinks they’re cute,” the grin on denki’s face widens.

as you tried to finish his manicure swiftly, your hand starting to cramp even more with every little thing you painted, you apply the transparent top coat on his thumb. giving it a minute to dry, not letting him withdraw his hand, you finally let go, screwing the cap on the top coat bottle shut.

“okay, you can look now.”

denki doesn’t reply, immediately shoving both hands in front of his face, turning them over and angling them towards the light on your ceiling.

“babe, look at them!”

“…i painted them?”

“yeah, i know, but i look, like, awesome.”

it didn’t take long for the girl to join in either, as she grabs his wrist, looking at his nails in awe.

“oh my god, they’re actually adorable.”

denki shifts his focus back on you, carefully cupping your face with both hands, being ridiculously fixated on not ruining the polish as he gives you a quick peck on the lips before pulling back.

“thanks, babe.”

you chuckle softly, “worth the toxic fumes?”

“absolutely,” he pauses, his face slightly falling. “…wait.”

“what?”

“how am i supposed to play video games.”

“if they’ve dried completely, it’s fine, really.”

“thank god,” he sighs in relief. “wait here, i’ll go show the rest! bakugou will be so annoyed.”

before you can stop him, denki's already on his feet, mina following close behind as they rush toward the common room to show off his new nails to eijiro, katsuki, sero and jirou as you’re left to get up after them, following them close behind.

return to masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

wrote this in like 45 minutes max soo...also not proofread so this may suck

divider credits - @/cursed-carmine

© stardrift ୨୧ do not copy, repost, translate, feed to ai or modify on any other platform. minors do not interact on 18+ posts.

You could have sworn you’d rather fight a villain butt-naked and quirkless than have to press a freezing cold-water bottle to your neck. Condensation on the plastic rapidly melted away as small drops slipped down your heated skin, offering little to no relief.

The fan spun almost uselessly, your mind having long since learned to tune out its constant hum.

 You barely paid attention to the phone lying beside you. Downstairs, the common room was just as miserable: Denki, Mina and Eijiro arguing over who got the last serving from the Neapolitan ice cream tub, at least three others trying to sit as close to Shoto as possible. He was using the frost side of his quirk to regulate his body temperature. As a bonus, the air around him stayed deliciously cool, making everyone else crowd around him. The rest blurred together as you leaned further back against the bed, the bottle greedily soaked up the heat from your skin until even the last traces of coolness were gone.

Sighing, you closed your phone, draping your arm over your closed eyes, trying to ignore the humid 34°C weather, before the device buzzed in your hand, the screen lighting up. You pulled your arm away, only to find a text notification from Katsuki.

You'd forgotten to mention it, but Katsuki had gone out to buy ice cream and drinks for everyone—including you.

You unlocked your phone again, opening the messages app to read his text:

katsudon: “What flavour ice cream do you want?”

Your index finger hovered over the glass screen, hesitating for a moment before typing back:

you: “raspberry”

katsudon: “Holy shit you’re boring”

you: “hell are you getting then?”

 katsudon: “Cinnamon”

you: “look at fancy pants over here”

At this point, you could practically feel his irritation through the screen, though he must've decided to let it slide:

katsudon: “You’re lucky it’s too hot outside for your bullshit”

you: “sure, u js don’t want to explode now”

katsudon: “FUCK did you say to me”

you: “nothing <3”

katsudon: “Damn right.”

Not long after, the typing bubble appeared again, as your eyes skimmed over the incoming words:

katsudon: “Do you want a drink too”

you: “coke zero”

katsudon: “Say thanks or something, dumbass”

you: "yes kats ty for getting me ice cream and a drink”

katsudon: “Better.”

You took the now-warm bottle from your neck and set it on the nightstand. Then you stood from the bed, finally noticing your shirt had stuck to your back, cringing lightly at the feeling, grabbing the hem at your lower back, flapping the cotton to dry the sweat clinging to your spine.

The wooden floors creaked under your feet as you left your dorm room and stepped into the hallway, the buzz from the common room much easier to make out, almost stepping over Sero currently lying on the floor as you made your way to the kitchen.

Katsuki hadn’t come back yet, but until he came back with everybody’s ice creams and your drink, you still needed something to subjugate your thirst, opening the fridge, your eyes landed on the large bottle of sparkling water, snatching it, along with a glass and poured the liquid.

Turning back to the fridge, you leaned down to slide open the ice tray, swiftly seizing a couple of cubes to toss into your drink before they melted between your fingers. After closing the door, you leaned against the side of the kitchen counter, one of your hands resting on the smooth granite as you raised the glass to your lips, the fizzy beverage slipping down your throat.

You brought your gaze up, noting that Eijiro had joined Sero on the floor, lying in a starfish position, his fingers still holding the chocolate-stained spoon, licking the remnants from his lips. You had assumed the three settled on sharing the three flavours of the tub for each one of them: chocolate for Eijiro, as the evidence suggests, strawberry for Mina and vanilla for Denki. Searching for the other two, you spot Mina lying sideways on the couch, cooling herself down with her coral pink handheld fan, switching hands periodically when her wrists would start to ache, and Denki was sitting in front of the couch, his back resting against it as he still held his bowl of ice cream, eating the last half of it, eyes fixed on the TV, watching whatever Shonen anime the guys argued over watching.

Suddenly, Mina lifted her head over the couch, black and yellow doe eyes focused on you as she asked:

“Do you know when Bakugou is coming back?”, she groaned in feigned exasperation before adding “everybody is dying over here, y’know!”

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head before responding:

“Nah, he only asked me what flavour I want”

“Ugh, can’t he hurry up already…?”, she sighed, lying back down on the couch, as she started fanning herself once more.

Thinking about her words, you took your glass with you and went back upstairs to your dorm room, grabbing your phone from on top of the wrinkled bedsheets as you checked to see if you had any new notifications, excluding the ones from apps you didn’t use anymore, taking another sip of the water before placing it down alongside the now neglected bottle.

Opening the messages app again, you tapped on Katsuki’s contact name, before typing:

you: “katss, when are u coming back”

Shortly after you pressed “send”, you decided that it was worth adding, in an attempt to explain yourself:

you: “the others are starting to complain”

It didn’t take him long to reply, as your phone lowly vibrated:

katsudon: “5 minutes, tell them to quit bitching, I’m stuck at the fucking checkout”

you: Reacted “♡” to your message.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ ☆ ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

It wasn’t long before voices rose from downstairs.

You quickly made your way downstairs, along with the others that had also spent the day in their dorms as you saw Katsuki carrying three plastic bags, full of drinks, ice cream and food (mostly instant ramen and chips), walking over as he set them down on the floor, reaching into each one and handing everybody their stuff.

“Pikachu”, he says as he tosses the lemon sorbet flavoured cone to Denki, who catches it instantly, grinning in ecstasy.

“Shitty hair”, as he reached for the chocolate with extra nuts ice cream “Racoon eyes”, followed by Mina catching her refreshing pink grapefruit ice cream.

And it went on like this until he eventually called out, catching your attention:

“Oi”, before tossing your coke zero to you.

After you catch it, Katsuki pulls out your raspberry cone, handing it to you in the same way. At that point, you notice that he hasn’t pulled out his cinnamon one.

“…wait.”

“What?”, he looked up at you, confused.

“Where’s yours?”

“Why?”

“Lemme see it.”

“No.”, the blonde replied, matter-of-factly.

“Why…?”

“Because.”

Safe to say, you were suspicious of him right now, slightly. Had he straight up forgotten to buy his own ice cream and refused to admit it?

Once the rest start eating their own cone and Katsuki had took off his shoes and showered, he walks over to the kitchen, where the last plastic bag was located on the countertop, as he pulled out his cinnamon ice cream tub.

Having followed his movements with your gaze (hoping he hadn’t noticed), you couldn’t help but admire the container, not wanting to admit it, but hell, it looked delicious as fuck.

And since Katsuki was your boyfriend, he surely wouldn’t have minded if his partner…wanted to share, right? Sadly, you weren’t in the mood for sharing today, instead desiring to steal it all for yourself. Couldn’t be that hard to steal some ice cream, after all.

He hadn’t yet opened the tub, now distracted as he looked through the kitchen for a clean bowl and a spoon, as you made up your mind that this was the best moment possible for your (otherwise pathetic) plan to take action.

You sat up from the couch, not having touched your raspberry ice cream either, as it was laying on the coffee table, instead wasting your time watching the filler arc of the same anime they were watching earlier.

Making sure you were as silent as possible so he wouldn’t notice you, you tiptoed your way over to the kitchen, glancing up at him once to make sure he wouldn’t abruptly turn around to catch you red-handed, before yanking the tub away and a spoon along with it.

“Thanks,” the smile on your face was audible.

Promptly, Katsuki turned around with the spoon in his hand, as he froze in his tracks. He glanced at the countertop, then at you, then back at the now empty countertop.

His eyes lifted once more.

“…”

“OI.”

You turned around and rushed upstairs, as he followed behind you. Reaching your dorm floor, you jogged over to your room with the tub in one hand, Katsuki catching up to you easily.

You now faced him, taking off the lid and holding it in one hand as he stared at you.

“…Give it back.”

Instead, you chose to take the tiniest spoonful, maintaining eye contact as you savored the taste. By now, he looked ready to explode at any given moment.

  “Oh.”

“WHAT.”

 “This is really good.”

“No shit.”

To your surprise, Katsuki didn’t curse you out (too much) or try to blow you up as now both of you were back in the common room, while he grabbed your raspberry cone from the coffee table and ripped off the wrapper.

“I thought you hated strawberry,” you couldn’t keep yourself from asking.

“I do.”

“Then why are you eating it?”

“Because you already contaminated mine, dumbass,” he stated, as if it was the most obvious fact ever.

“…sorry,” you muttered, quietly.

“Whatever,” he shrugged, adding “buy your own next time.”

return to masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

sooo...decided to post on tumblr finally 😭 haven't written fanfic since 2022/2023 so this is genuinely the most pathetic comeback ever

divider credits - @/cursed-carmine

© stardrift ୨୧ do not copy, repost, translate, feed to ai or modify on any other platform. minors do not interact on 18+ posts.