Sleepyey

Katsuki clicked his tongue, a sudden surge of stubborn affection overtaking his usual rigid boundaries. Without warning, he reached out, wrapping his calloused fingers firmly around (Y/N)’s hand. He laced their fingers together, pulling (Y/N) just an inch closer so their shoulders brushed.

Instantly, he felt it. It was subtle—so subtle that anyone else walking past them on the bustling campus wouldn't have noticed—but to Katsuki, it was deafening. (Y/N)’s hand went rigid. The muscles in his forearm locked up, a sudden, microscopic jolt traveling through his frame. (Y/N) didn’t pull away; in fact, after a beat of heavy hesitation, his fingers squeezed back, offering a tight, manufactured reassurance. He even turned his head, offering Katsuki a small, faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

But the tension never left. (Y/N)’s shoulders remained high, his gaze darting subtly to a group of passing students, his posture shifting as if he were waiting for a blow to land.

Katsuki dropped his hand a few minutes later when they reached the steps of the humanities building. (Y/N) offered a quick, distracted wave, muttering something about film study with the team, and disappeared into the crowd. Katsuki stood on the steps for a long moment, staring at the space where (Y/N) had just been, a bitter taste rising in the back of his throat.

"Hey, Blasty! You trying to burn a hole through the concrete with your mind, or are you actually going to come inside?"

Katsuki didn't turn around, but he grunted, recognizing Mina Ashido’s voice. She bounced up the steps, her bright pink hair catching the afternoon sun, flanked by Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Jiro. They were his crew, the loud, obnoxious idiots who had somehow wormed their way into his life during freshman year and refused to leave. They were also the first people Katsuki had told when he and (Y/N)—his long-time friend, the guy he’d known since middle school—finally stopped dancing around each other and made things official.

They had been nothing but supportive. Kirishima had practically thrown a party; Mina had choked him in a hug; Kaminari had made a joke that got him sparked; Jiro had given him a rare, genuine smile; and Sero had just laughed and said, About damn time. Even Aizawa, their gruff, permanently exhausted academic advisor, had merely looked up from his grading, sighed, and muttered, Just don't let it distract you from your midterms. His parents, too, had welcomed (Y/N) with open arms, Mitsuki treating him like a second son and Masaru quietly offering him the best cuts of meat at dinner.

They had a village. They had a safety net.

So why did it still feel like they were walking on a tightrope over a canyon?

"Shut up, Pinky," Katsuki snapped, though the fire wasn't really in it. He turned and trudged into the building, the group falling into step around him.

They crowded into their usual corner of the student lounge. Kaminari and Sero immediately started arguing over a statistics assignment, while Kirishima began rambling about his latest weight-lifting plateau. Katsuki sat on the edge of a couch, arms crossed, staring blankly at his laptop screen.

Mina watched him. She had a keen eye for dynamics, far sharper than her bubbly exterior let on. She noticed the way Katsuki kept glancing toward the windows, the way his jaw was clenched tightly enough to crack a tooth.

When the guys got distracted by Jiro showing them a video on her phone, Mina slid into the empty seat next to Katsuki. She didn't push him, just leaned her chin on her hand, looking at him with a softness that made Katsuki instantly defensive.

"What?" he growled, keeping his voice low.

"Everything okay with you and (Y/N)?" she asked softly.

Katsuki’s shoulders stiffened. "Fine. Why wouldn't it be?"

Mina hesitated, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "I don't know. I saw you guys walking earlier. Near the library. You held his hand, and... I don't know, Bakugo. I’m not trying to interrogate you, seriously. I love you guys. But I’ve noticed it a few times lately. Whenever you do stuff like that in public—hand holding, or when you gave him that peck on the cheek last week by the gym—he freezes up. It’s like he’s playing a part, but he’s totally stressed out inside. Is he... is he 100% into this relationship? Like, the way you make it seem?"

The words hit Katsuki like a physical strike to the chest. His immediate instinct was to yell, to tell her to mind her own business, to blast her through the window. But the raw, uncharacteristic honesty in Mina’s eyes stopped the shout in his throat.

He looked down at his lap, his fingers curling into fists against his jeans.

"I've noticed it too," Katsuki said, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that Mina had to strain to hear. It felt like tearing out a piece of his own throat just to admit it. "He thinks he’s hiding it. He thinks he’s being smooth. But he’s stiff as a board every damn time. I touch him, and it’s like I’m a live wire shocking him."

Mina’s expression crumbled into deep sympathy. "Have you talked to him about it?"

"No," Katsuki muttered, staring at the floor. "Because I’m a coward. Because I know exactly what it is, and I don't want to face it."

He didn't say the words out loud—internalized homophobia—but they hung heavy in the air between them. Katsuki knew (Y/N) loved him. He knew it in the quiet moments, in the dead of night when they were wrapped up in Katsuki’s bed, away from the eyes of the world, where (Y/N) would press his face into Katsuki’s neck and breathe him in like he was oxygen. In the dark, (Y/N) was soft, pliable, and entirely his.

But the daylight brought the rest of the world.

(Y/N) wasn't just Katsuki’s boyfriend; he was a starting linebacker for the university’s football team. He existed in a world dominated by loud, aggressive, hyper-masculine energy. And while the campus itself was generally progressive, the locker room was a different beast entirely.

Katsuki had passed by the athletic wing a few times to wait for (Y/N) after practice. He’d heard the casual, careless slurs tossed around like footballs. He’d heard some of (Y/N)’s own teammates—guys he shared a defensive line with—making snide, mocking comments about (Y/N) being "soft" or "fruity" because he didn't join in on their crude jokes about women, or because someone had spotted him talking a little too closely with Katsuki. (Y/N) always laughed it off or ignored it, but Katsuki had seen the way those words settled like toxic ash in his boyfriend's eyes.

Worse than the teammates, though, was (Y/N)’s father.

Katsuki had met the man exactly twice, and both times had left him wanting to break something. (Y/N)’s father was a traditionalist in the worst sense of the word—a rigid, overbearing man who viewed his son not as a person, but as a legacy to cultivate. He was openly, venomously homophobic, frequently making remarks during televised sports or family dinners about how "the world was soft" and how he "didn't raise a degenerate." (Y/N) lived in perpetual terror of that man finding out the truth. He lived with a heavy, suffocating blanket of shame draped over his shoulders, trying desperately to balance his love for Katsuki with the desperate, deep-seated urge to please a father who would hate him if he knew who he truly was.

"He's drowning in it, Mina," Katsuki whispered, his chest aching with a rare, terrifying vulnerability. "And I don't know how to pull him out without drowning him completely."

Mina reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just be there for him, Bakugo. Don't push him faster than he can go. But don't let him break himself, either."

The day of the championship game arrived with a tense, electric energy that swallowed the entire campus. It was the biggest game of the season, and the stadium was packed to maximum capacity.

Katsuki sat in the front row of the family and friends section, flanked by his parents. Mitsuki was wearing a jersey in (Y/N)’s team colors, shouting loudly at the field, while Masaru sat quietly beside her, offering a calm anchor. A few rows back, Kirishima, Mina, and the rest of the squad were making enough noise to wake the dead, holding up a massive, poorly painted sign with (Y/N)’s jersey number on it.

On the field, (Y/N) was a force of nature. He moved with a brutal, calculated efficiency, tearing through the opposing team's offense, his performance fueled by a manic, desperate energy. Katsuki watched him through narrowed eyes. He could see the strain in the way (Y/N) stood during timeouts, the way his shoulders were hunched under his pads. He was playing like a man running from a ghost.

In the VIP box directly above them sat (Y/N)’s parents. Katsuki had caught sight of his father earlier—a tall, stern man with a permanent scowl, watching his son’s every move with a critical, unforgiving glare. (Y/N)’s mother sat beside him, looking anxious and small.

The final whistle blew, a deafening explosion of sound echoing through the stadium as (Y/N)’s team secured a hard-fought victory. The crowd erupted. Players stormed the field, dumping Gatorade over Coach Endeavor’s broad shoulders. The towering, fiery coach actually cracked a rare, terrifying smile, clapping his players on their backs with heavy, booming hands.

Katsuki didn't care about the trophy. His eyes were locked on (Y/N), who was taking off his helmet, his hair soaked in sweat, breathing heavily.

The barrier separating the stands from the field was opened for families. Mitsuki immediately pulled Masaru along, dragging Katsuki down to the turf. The crowd was a chaotic sea of jerseys, pom-poms, and roaring fans.

When (Y/N) caught sight of them, a genuine, blinding smile finally broke across his exhausted face. The defensive walls he usually wore seemed to crumble under the sheer adrenaline of the win and the sight of the people who truly cared for him. He jogged over, dropping his helmet to the grass.

Mitsuki threw her arms around his bulky, padded shoulders first. "You did amazing, brat! Absolutely crushed 'em!"

"Thanks, Mama Bakugo," (Y/N) breathed, his voice rough.

Masaru stepped up next, offering a warm pat on the shoulder and a quiet, prideful smile. "An incredible game, son. We're very proud of you."

Then, (Y/N) turned his eyes to Katsuki.

The adrenaline, the euphoria of the victory, the sheer relief of the game being over—it all seemed to culminate in a rare moment of absolute abandon for (Y/N). He didn't look around. He didn't scan the crowd for his teammates or the stands for his father. He just looked at Katsuki.

Before Katsuki could even say a word, (Y/N) stepped forward, wrapped his large hands around the back of Katsuki’s neck, and pulled him in.

It wasn't a hesitant, tense touch. It was a real, solid kiss, right there on the open field, under the blinding stadium lights. (Y/N)’s lips were warm, tasting of sweat and sports drink, pressing against Katsuki’s with a desperate, hungry sincerity. Katsuki froze for a fraction of a second in pure shock before his own instincts kicked in. He grabbed the front of (Y/N)’s jersey, pulling him closer, melting into the kiss with a fierce, possessive intensity. For a beautiful, fleeting five seconds, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

Then, reality shattered.

A heavy, low voice cut through the surrounding noise like a chainsaw, instantly freezing the blood in Katsuki’s veins.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

(Y/N) ripped himself away so fast Katsuki almost stumbled forward. The euphoria vanished from (Y/N)’s face, replaced instantly by a pale, sickening mask of absolute terror.

Standing a few feet away, having pushed through the lingering crowd, was (Y/N)’s father, Kouji. His face was a dark, mottled purple with rage, his veins standing out on his neck, his eyes wide and burning with a toxic, venomous hatred. (Y/N)’s mother, Yua, stood a step behind him, her hands clasped over her mouth, tears already welling in her eyes.

"Dad," (Y/N) choked out, his voice instantly dropping all its strength, sounding like a terrified child. "Dad, wait, let me—"

"Shut your mouth," Kouji snarled, stepping closer, his presence towering and suffocating. He didn't care that they were surrounded by hundreds of people. His fury was a localized storm, entirely focused on his son. "I come out here to watch a championship game, and I see my son—a starting linebacker, a man I raised—acting like a disgusting, pathetic degenerate on the open field? With him?"

He hurled the word him at Katsuki like a curse, glaring at the blonde boy with an intense, violent disgust.

Katsuki’s temper, usually a raging fire, instantly ignited. He stepped in front of (Y/N), his chest heaving, his palms sparking slightly with nervous adrenaline. "Watch your mouth, old man. You don't talk to him like that."

"Katsuki, don't," Masaru said quietly but firmly, stepping up beside his son, while Mitsuki moved to place herself between Katsuki and the enraged father.

"You stay out of this," Kouji barked at the Bakugos, before pointing a thick, shaking finger directly at his son's face. "I am going to give you one chance, and one chance only, boy. You walk away from this freak right now. You pack your bags, you come home, and we get you sorted out. You choose right now. You choose your family, your future, our name—or you choose this disgusting lifestyle. Choose."

(Y/N) looked like he was suffocating. He looked at his father, then at his mother, who was weeping silently, shaking her head as if begging him to just submit, to just lie, to save himself. Then he looked at Katsuki. Katsuki’s heart was hammering against his ribs, a cold, sharp dread piercing his chest. He didn't say anything. He wouldn't force (Y/N). But the look in Katsuki’s eyes was pure, agonized pleading.

Don't let him break you.

(Y/N) took a ragged, trembling breath. The shame that had weighed him down for years seemed to curdle into something else—a desperate, cornered survival instinct. He stood a little straighter, though his hands were shaking violently.

"No," (Y/N) whispered.

The man’s eyes narrowed. "What did you say to me?"

"I said no, Dad," (Y/N) said, his voice cracking but louder this time. "I’m not leaving him. I’m not... I’m not going to pretend anymore."

The reaction was instantaneous and violent. Kouji let out a guttural roar of pure rage, lunging forward. He didn't even aim for (Y/N) first; his blind fury drove him straight toward Katsuki, his large hand reaching out to grab the blonde by the collar of his jacket to rip him away.

"Get your hands off him!" (Y/N) screamed.

Before his father could touch Katsuki, (Y/N) stepped into the gap. With a massive surge of his athletic strength, fueled by pure panic, (Y/N) slammed his hands into his father's chest, shoving the older man backward.

The man stumbled back two steps into the grass.

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over their immediate vicinity. Shoving his father was a boundary (Y/N) had never crossed, a taboo written into the very DNA of his upbringing. The moment his hands left his father's chest, (Y/N) froze, his eyes widening in horror at what he had just done.

"You piece of trash," Kouji whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying, quiet malice.

Before anyone could react, the man lunged back forward with terrifying speed. He caught (Y/N) completely off guard. His large, calloused hands slammed into the hard plastic of (Y/N)’s shoulder pads, using the boy’s own momentum against him. He drove (Y/N) backward with brutal force, slamming him hard against the concrete base of the nearest stadium wall.

The impact echoed with a sickening, hollow thud. (Y/N) gasped, the air completely knocked from his lungs.

"Hey! Stop!" Mitsuki screamed, lunging forward, but the man was already moving.

With a curled, heavy fist, (Y/N)’s father threw a brutal, full-force punch directly into his son's face.

The sound of flesh striking flesh was horrific. (Y/N)’s head snapped back against the concrete wall, a sharp, spray of bright red blood exploding from his nose and split lip. His knees buckled instantly, his body sliding halfway down the wall, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

"Stop it! Please, stop!" Yua shrieked, grabbing at her husband's arm, but he shook her off like a leaf.

"Get the hell off him!" Katsuki roared, his vision going completely red. He lunged forward, ready to tear the man to pieces, his hands igniting, but before he could reach him, a massive, towering shadow fell over the entire group.

"That is enough!"

Coach Enji Todoroki stepped into the space like a brick wall, his massive, imposing frame completely cutting off (Y/N)’s father. The coach’s face was set in a terrifying, thunderous scowl, his large hand wrapping around the father's forearm with a grip that looked capable of crushing bone.

"Lay another hand on my player," Endeavor rumbled, his voice vibrating with a dangerous, authoritative heat, "and I will have campus security and the police throw you out of this stadium in zip-ties. Do you understand me?"

Right on cue, Masaru stepped up beside Endeavor, his usual gentle demeanor completely gone, replaced by a cold, rigid fury that Katsuki had never seen in his father before. "We are witnesses to an assault. Move away from him immediately."

Kouji looked at the towering coach, then at the furious Bakugo family, and realized he was entirely outnumbered, surrounded by a crowd that was now turning to stare in shock. He pulled his arm out of Enji's grip, his face still twisted in disgust.

"Keep him," the man spat, wiping a stray drop of his son's blood from his own knuckle. He turned his freezing gaze down toward the boy slumped against the wall. "You’re dead to me. Don't ever come back to my house. You're no son of mine."

He turned on his heel, grabbing his weeping wife by the arm, and dragged her away into the crowd, leaving a wake of stunned silence behind him.

"Oh my god, (Y/N)," Mitsuki gasped, immediately dropping to her knees on the grass beside the boy.

Katsuki was already there, his heart thrashing frantically against his ribs like a trapped bird. "Hey, hey, look at me," he choked out, his hands trembling violently as he reached out to touch (Y/N)’s face.

(Y/N) was shivering, his breath coming in ragged, shallow wheezes. Blood was pouring freely from his nose, painting his chin and the white numbers of his jersey a horrific, stark crimson. His lip was split wide open, swelling rapidly. But it wasn't the physical injuries that made Katsuki’s stomach drop into a bottomless abyss; it was the look in (Y/N)’s eyes.

The eyes were completely broken. The shame, the terror, the sudden, violent destruction of his entire world had shattered something deep inside him. He looked up at Katsuki, and instead of finding comfort, he looked like he was looking at his executioner.

"Hey, let us help you up, sweetheart," Mitsuki murmured softly, her voice full of maternal heartbreak as she reached for his arm. Katsuki reached out too, trying to cup his cheek. "Come on, let’s get you to the training room, get you cleaned up—"

"Don't," (Y/N) croaked.

The word was small, wet with blood, but it carried a desperate, violent finality.

Before either of them could stop him, (Y/N) scrambled backward against the wall, using his remaining strength to push himself up. He shoved past Mitsuki’s hands, and when Katsuki reached out to grab his waist to steady him, (Y/N) violently slapped his hands away.

"Don't touch me!" (Y/N) shouted, his voice cracking into a raw, agonized sob.

Katsuki froze, his hands hovering in the air, his chest feeling like it had been pierced by a jagged piece of ice. "(Y/N)... please, just let us—"

"I can't do this," (Y/N) wept, blood leaking down his face, dripping off his chin and leaving a stark, terrifying trail of red droplets on the green turf beneath him. He was shaking so hard he could barely stand, his eyes wild and unfocused as he looked at Katsuki. "I can't. Look what happened. Look at what this did. It’s over, Katsuki. We’re over. Just... leave me the hell alone!"

"No—(Y/N), wait!" Katsuki screamed, stepping forward, but (Y/N) was already turning.

He didn't run—he couldn't, his body too battered and broken from the impact—but he stumbled away into the chaotic sea of the stadium crowd, his broad, padded shoulders hunched, his head down. Katsuki tried to pursue him, but the crowd closed in like a wall of water, and Coach Endeavor placed a heavy hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, holding him back.

"Let him go, kid," Enji said, his voice unusually quiet, devoid of its usual harshness. "He’s in shock. Pushing him right now will only make him run further. Let my staff find him. We’ll take care of the medical."

Katsuki fell to his knees on the turf, staring at the small, dark spatters of red blood drying on the grass. The stadium around him was still cheering, music still blaring from the loudspeakers, but to Katsuki, the entire world had just gone completely, terrifyingly silent.

Three days.

For three agonizing, endless days, Katsuki existed in a living nightmare.

(Y/N) hadn't returned to his dorm room. He hadn't answered a single one of Katsuki’s a hundred phone calls or texts. He hadn't responded to Kirishima, Mina, or even Coach Enji, who had quietly informed Katsuki that (Y/N) had cleared out his locker in the dead of night following the game. Aizawa had checked the university system; (Y/N) hadn't formally withdrawn from his classes yet, but he hadn't shown up to a single one.

He had simply vanished into the concrete expanse of the city, leaving nothing behind but the memory of his blood on the grass.

Katsuki hadn't slept. He hadn't eaten more than a few forced bites of toast his mother had shoved down his throat. He spent his days sitting on the couch in his parents' living room, staring blankly at his phone, his mind replaying those five seconds of euphoria on the field, followed instantly by the horrific sound of (Y/N)’s head cracking against the wall.

The guilt was a physical weight crushing his lungs. If he hadn't held his hand on campus, if he hadn't pushed for PDA, if he hadn't leaned into that kiss... if he had just been content to keep them a secret, hidden away in the dark where it was safe, (Y/N) would still have a family. (Y/N) wouldn't be bleeding somewhere in a cheap motel room, broken and alone.

It was late afternoon on the third day. The sky outside the large living room window was a bruised, heavy purple, twilight settling over the quiet suburban neighborhood.

Katsuki was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the base of the sofa, his knees pulled up to his chest. Masaru sat on the couch behind him, a warm mug of tea resting untouched on the coffee table. The house was quiet; Mitsuki had gone to the grocery store, leaving the two men alone in the heavy silence.

Masaru watched his son. It broke his heart to see Katsuki like this—stripped of his usual explosive fire, reduced to a hollow, silent shell of misery.

"Katsuki," Masaru said softly, his voice a calm, steady presence in the dim room.

Katsuki didn't look up. He just tightened his grip on his own shins.

"If he comes back," Masaru began slowly, choosing his words with immense care, "if he walks through that door, or calls you... would you take him back?"

Katsuki’s shoulders hitched. He let out a ragged, trembling breath, his forehead resting against his knees. "He hates me, Dad. He told me it was over. He said it was my fault—"

"He didn't say it was your fault, Katsuki," Masaru interrupted gently, leaning forward to place a warm, comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. "He was terrified. He was a boy who had just watched his whole life shatter in front of him, violently, by the person who was supposed to protect him. He didn't hate you. He hated the pain. He hated the fear."

Masaru squeezed his shoulder. "So I ask you again. If he comes back to apologize... would you take him back?"

Katsuki lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed, dark circles carved deep into his skin. His jaw clenched, a tiny, familiar spark of his true self flickering back to life in his chest.

"In a heartbeat," Katsuki whispered, his voice cracking with an intense, fierce certainty. "I don't care if he never wants to hold my hand in public again. I don't care if we have to hide from the whole damn world. I just want him back. I want to make sure he’s safe. I’d take him back in a fucking heartbeat."

Masaru smiled, a soft, incredibly tender expression. He didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes shifting away from Katsuki to look out the large front window that faced the street and the small covered porch.

"Well," Masaru said quietly, tapping Katsuki’s shoulder and pointing a finger toward the glass. "Then I suggest you get moving. Because your chance is currently pacing on our porch, and it looks like he’s about to walk away."

Katsuki’s heart stopped.

He lunged to his feet so fast his knees knocked against the coffee table, rattling the tea mug. He spun around, his eyes locking onto the window.

There, standing under the dim yellow light of the porch lamp, was a tall, broad silhouette.

It was (Y/N).

He looked smaller than usual, his large shoulders hunched inside a heavy, oversized hoodie, the hood pulled up high. In his large, trembling hands, he was holding a small, tightly bound bouquet of deep purple hyacinths—flowers Katsuki knew from his mother’s gardening books carried a traditional meaning of deep regret, a plea for forgiveness.

(Y/N) was staring at the front door, his feet shifting nervously on the wooden planks. He took one step forward, reached his hand out toward the doorbell, and then froze. The sheer weight of his hesitation was visible from across the room. He slowly lowered his hand, his head dropping, his shoulders slumping in total defeat. He turned around, stepping off the porch, preparing to disappear back into the shadows of the street.

Katsuki didn't think. The universe, his breathing, his doubts—it all evaporated.

Masaru swore he had never seen his son move so fast in his entire life.

Katsuki tore across the living room, his socks sliding wildly on the hardwood floor. He threw himself at the front door, ripping it open with so much force the handle slammed against the interior wall with a deafening slam.

He didn't care that he was barefoot. He didn't care that the late autumn air was freezing. He sprinted down the porch steps, his feet hitting the cold concrete of the driveway.

"(Y/N)!" Katsuki roared.

The figure down the driveway froze. (Y/N) spun around, his hood falling back from his head, his eyes widening in pure shock.

The porch light illuminated his face, and Katsuki felt a fresh wave of agony hit his chest. (Y/N)’s nose was slightly crooked, taped up with a small medical strip. His lower lip was split, a jagged dark line of stitches holding the skin together, and a massive, deep purple bruise bloomed across his left cheekbone, stretching down to his jaw. He looked battered, exhausted, and utterly broken.

But as Katsuki ran toward him, (Y/N) didn't move. He just stood there, clutching the purple flowers to his chest like a shield, tears instantly filling his eyes.

Katsuki didn't slow down. He closed the distance between them in a desperate blur, throwing his entire body weight into (Y/N).

He slammed into the larger boy’s chest, his arms flying around (Y/N)’s neck, gripping him with a terrifying, crushing strength. The impact forced a small, breathless gasp from (Y/N)’s lungs, and the bouquet of hyacinths crinkled loudly between their bodies.

"You absolute fucking idiot," Katsuki sobbed, his voice breaking completely as he buried his face in the crook of (Y/N)’s neck. He hid his face in the soft cotton of the hoodie, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of soap and cedar that he had missed for three long days. "You stupid, miserable bastard. Where the hell were you? I thought you were dead. I thought... you hated me."

(Y/N) stood rigid for a fraction of a second, his hands hovering in the air, before the dam completely broke.

The flowers fell from his grip, scattering softly across the dark concrete of the driveway. (Y/N) wrapped his massive, heavy arms around Katsuki’s waist, lifting the smaller boy slightly off his feet, pulling him so close there wasn't a single inch of space left between them. He buried his face in Katsuki’s messy blonde hair, his entire frame racking with violent, heavy sobs.

"I’m sorry," (Y/N) wept, his voice rough and distorted by the stitches in his lip. "Katsuki, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I screamed at you. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I was just... I was so scared. I didn't know what to do."

"Shut up," Katsuki ordered, though his tone was entirely devoid of anger, choked with his own tears. He dropped his feet back to the ground but didn't loosen his grip for a second, his fingers clawing into the fabric of (Y/N)’s hoodie. "Just shut the fuck up. You don't apologize to me. Not for that."

They stood there in the freezing driveway for a long, unmeasured time, holding onto each other like survivors of a shipwreck clinging to a lifeboat. (Y/N)’s tears were hot against Katsuki’s shoulder, his heavy breaths shaking his entire body.

Slowly, Katsuki pulled back just enough to look at him. His hands moved up, framing (Y/N)’s face, his thumbs brushing very, very gently against the edges of the dark purple bruise on his cheek, avoiding the stitches on his lip.

"Does it hurt?" Katsuki whispered, his eyes wide with a soft, aching tenderness.

"A little," (Y/N) choked out, offering a tiny, watery smile that winced at the movement of his lip. "Coach Enji's team doctor fixed me up the night of the game. He... he kept me at his house. Coach wouldn't let me go back to a motel. He said I was part of his team, and he wasn't letting me sleep on a floor. He’s been watching over me."

A small, heavy breath of relief escaped Katsuki’s lips. Thank God for that stubborn old man.

"Why didn't you call me?" Katsuki asked, his voice dropping to a fragile whisper.

(Y/N) looked down, his eyes filling with fresh shame. "Because I thought... I thought I was toxic. I thought about what my dad said, about how I was disgusting, and I looked at my face in the mirror, and I just thought... 'if I stay with Katsuki, I’m going to drag him down into this. I’m going to make him miserable'. I was ashamed, Katsuki. I’m still... I’m still so scared of what people are going to say."

Katsuki grabbed his jaw, firmer this time, forcing (Y/N) to look him dead in the eye.

"Listen to me, you moron," Katsuki said, his voice ringing with a fierce, absolute conviction. "I don't give a single, solitary fuck about what your garbage father thinks. He’s a pathetic piece of shit who doesn't deserve to even breathe the same air as you. And anyone else—anyone on your team, anyone on this campus who has a problem with us—I will personally blast them into the next hemisphere. Do you hear me?"

(Y/N) let out a wet, breathless laugh, a tear spilling over his eyelashes.

"We don't have to hold hands in public," Katsuki continued, his voice softening, his gaze dropping to (Y/N)’s stitched lip. "We don't have to kiss on the field. We don't have to do anything that makes you freeze up or feel like you’re waiting for a blow to land. If you want to keep it in the dark, we’ll stay in the dark. I don't care about the rest of the world. I just want you."

(Y/N) stared at him, the heavy, suffocating blanket of shame that had draped over his shoulders for years finally beginning to fray at the edges, torn apart by the absolute, unwavering certainty in Katsuki’s eyes.

"No," (Y/N) said softly, his voice steadying. He reached up, placing his large hands over Katsuki’s. "I don't want to hide anymore. It was... it was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me, Katsuki. But when I kissed you on that field... before everything went to hell... it was the first time in my entire life I felt like I was actually breathing."

He took a deep, ragged breath, his chest expanding against Katsuki’s. "I’m still scared. I’m going to need time. I’m going to be tense sometimes, and I’m probably going to look over my shoulder. But I don't want to go back into the dark. I want to be with you. In the light. If you’ll still have me."

"I told you, you idiot," Katsuki muttered, his own tears finally stopping, replaced by a deep, glowing warmth that spread through his entire chest. "In a heartbeat."

He leaned forward, moving with immense care, and pressed his lips gently against the uninjured corner of (Y/N)’s mouth. It wasn't a fierce, desperate kiss like the one on the field; it was a soft, lingering promise, a quiet vow of safety and protection. (Y/N) sighed into the kiss, his body finally, completely losing its rigid tension, melting against Katsuki’s frame like water.

The front door of the house clicked open again.

Masaru stood on the porch, a warm jacket thrown over his shoulders, holding a second jacket in his hands. He looked down at the two boys, his face full of a quiet, relieved happiness.

"It's freezing out here, boys," Masaru called out gently. "Bring him inside, Katsuki. Your mother is bringing the good beef, and she’s going to want to make sure (Y/N) eats a real meal."

(Y/N) looked up at Masaru, then back at Katsuki. The fear didn't completely disappear—the road ahead was going to be long, filled with therapy, rebuilding his life from scratch, and navigating a world without his birth family—but as he looked at the warm, glowing light spilling from the Bakugo home, he knew he wasn't walking that road alone.

Katsuki bent down, carefully picking up the scattered purple hyacinths from the driveway, keeping one hand firmly locked around (Y/N)’s fingers. This time, when Katsuki squeezed, (Y/N)’s hand didn't go rigid.

His fingers squeezed back, warm, relaxed, and entirely safe.

"Come on," Katsuki said softly, pulling him toward the steps. "Let's go home."

Extra: The graduation pavilion was a sea of black gowns, fluttering caps, and the chaotic roar of hundreds of families cheering for the departing senior class.

Katsuki stood just outside the main gate, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed like a laser on the crowd pouring out of the arena. He was a junior this year, still having one more long, grueling year of university ahead of him, but today wasn't about his schedule. Today belonged entirely to you.

"Look, there he is! There’s our graduate!"

Mitsuki’s loud, boisterous voice cut through the ambient noise as she pointed toward the steps. You were walking down the concrete incline, your graduation gown fluttering around your ankles, your mortarboard cap tilted slightly back on your head. The dark purple bruise on your cheek from a year ago had long since faded into a faint memory, and your posture was completely different now—upright, relaxed, and entirely unburdened.

"Hell yeah! Let's go, dude!" Kirishima roared, instantly cupping his hands around his mouth to bellow across the plaza. Mina was jumping up and down beside him, waving a makeshift sign she had smuggled into the arena, while Kaminari, Sero, and Jiro cheered loudly beside them.

When your eyes caught the group, a massive, genuine smile broke across your face. You adjusted the heavy diploma cylinder in your hand and hurried down the steps, immediately getting swallowed into a chaotic group hug by the squad. Kirishima practically lifted you off the ground, thumping your back with a heavy, proud hand, while Mina squeezed your waist.

"You actually did it, man," Sero laughed, throwing an arm around your neck. "Leaving us behind to suffer through another year of Aizawa's midterms."

"Someone had to pave the way," you teased, your voice warm and clear.

As the group let you go, Mitsuki stepped up, her eyes uncharacteristically soft as she reached up to adjust the collar of your gown. "We are so incredibly proud of you, sweetheart. You worked so hard for this."

Masaru stepped up beside her, offering a warm, steady handshake and a proud smile. "A wonderful achievement, son. You've earned every bit of it."

"Thank you, Mama Bakugo, Papa Bakugo," you murmured, your chest swelling with a deep, profound gratitude. For the past year, they had been your rock, stepping into the void your old life had left behind without a single moment of hesitation.

Then, you looked at Katsuki.

He was standing a step back from his parents, his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets, his jaw set in that familiar, stubborn line. But his eyes were wide, burning with a fierce, quiet pride that belonged entirely to you.

You stepped closer to him, the space between you closing naturally. Katsuki didn't say a word. He just reached out, his calloused fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist, pulling you in just enough so your shoulders brushed. There was no tension. No microscopic jolt of fear. Just a deep, grounding comfort.

"You didn't trip on the stage," Katsuki muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward into a rare, soft smirk. "S'pose that means you actually passed."

"Barely," you chuckled, leaning your weight slightly into his side. "Just wanted to make sure I gave you something to live up to next year."

"Like I need the motivation, dumbass," he grunted, but his grip on your wrist tightened affectionately.

The group chatted for a few more minutes, making plans for the massive celebratory dinner Mitsuki had been organizing for weeks. But as the crowd around the pavilion began to thin out, your eyes drifted toward the edge of the plaza, near the brick columns of the main campus entrance.

A woman was standing there, looking nervously at the crowd. She was dressed in a simple, elegant navy blue dress, holding a small clutch purse in her hands. She looked smaller than she used to, but her shoulders were straight, her head held high.

Your breath hitched slightly in your throat.

Katsuki noticed the sudden shift in your posture instantly. He looked up, his crimson eyes following your gaze to the edge of the plaza. His grip on your wrist loosened into a protective, questioning squeeze.

"Hey," Katsuki murmured softly. "Is that...?"

"Yeah," you whispered.

Mitsuki and Masaru noticed as well, the group's boisterous conversation trickling down into a respectful, quiet hush. Over the past six months, you and your mother had slowly, painstakingly begun to rebuild a bridge across the canyon your father had created. It had started with tentative text messages, then secret phone calls in the middle of the night, and eventually, quiet coffee dates on the weekends away from the city.

You took a deep, steadying breath, looking at Katsuki. He gave you a firm, encouraging nod, his hand sliding down to squeeze your fingers once before letting you go.

You walked across the plaza, the black fabric of your graduation gown snapping softly in the afternoon breeze. As you drew closer, your mother’s eyes locked onto you. The anxiety on her face completely melted away, replaced by a raw, overwhelming emotion.

"Hi, Mom," you said softly.

She just let out a small, breathless sob and threw her arms around your neck.

You buried your face in her shoulder, wrapping your arms tightly around her, holding her close. The scent of her familiar perfume hit you, bringing a sudden, sharp sting of tears to your eyes. For a long, silent moment, neither of you let go. It was a hug that carried the weight of a year’s worth of separation, of unspoken apologies, and of a quiet, fierce survival.

When she finally pulled back, her hands remained on your shoulders, her eyes scanning your face, lingering proudly on your graduation cap.

"Look at you," she whispered, her voice trembling as she wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "My graduate. You look so handsome."

"I'm really glad you came, Mom," you said honestly, your voice thick. "I know it wasn't easy."

A small, triumphant smile broke through her tears, and she reached into her clutch purse, pulling out a folded piece of paper. She handed it to you with a steady hand. You unfolded it, your eyes scanning the legal header at the top of the page.

Decree of Divorce.

Your eyes widened, looking up at her in pure shock.

"It's final," she said, her voice carrying a newfound, fierce independence that you had never heard from her in your entire life. "I left him, sweetie. I realized... a man who would strike his own son for loving someone is a man who doesn't deserve a family at all. I packed my things. I have my own apartment now. I'm taking my life back. Just like you did."

A massive, overwhelming wave of relief washed over your chest, so profound it made your knees feel weak. You pulled her back into another fierce, crushing hug, laughing softly against her hair. "I'm so proud of you, Mom. You have no idea."

"I did it for myself," she murmured, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. "But I also did it because I want to be a part of your life. The real version of your life."

She glanced over your shoulder, her eyes softening as she looked at Katsuki, who was still standing a few yards away, watching over you, his family and friends giving you space but remaining a solid wall of support behind him.

"He's a good boy," your mother said softly, her smile widening into a knowing, gentle expression. "He took care of you when I couldn't."

She reached back into her purse one last time. When her hand came out, she wasn't holding legal papers anymore. She pulled out a small, square box made of deep, rich red velvet.

She pressed it firmly into the palm of your hand, wrapping your fingers around it.

"I think it's time you take the next step," she whispered, giving you a sly, affectionate wink. "Go on. He's waiting for you."

Your heart skipped a beat, its rhythm instantly accelerating into a frantic, ecstatic hammer against your ribs. You looked down at the red velvet box in your hand, feeling its weight, before looking back up at your mother. Your throat felt completely dry, but a profound, blinding certainty settled deep in your chest.

"Thanks, Mom," you choked out.

She stepped back, giving you an encouraging wink as she moved to stand closer to Mitsuki and Masaru, who welcomed her with warm, open expressions, instantly bringing her into the fold.

You turned back around, facing Katsuki.

He was standing alone now, his friends having subtly stepped back into a semi-circle, their eyes wide and excited as they noticed the small box in your hand. Mina was clutching Kirishima’s arm so tightly her knuckles were white, a massive, silent grin plastered across her face.

Katsuki watched you walk back to him. His crimson eyes dropped to the red velvet box, and you saw the exact moment his brain registered what it was. His shoulders stiffened. His breath catching visibly in his throat. The usual fierce, unyielding composure he wore like armor cracked completely, replaced by a raw, stunned vulnerability.

You stopped exactly two feet in front of him.

"Katsuki," you said, your voice remarkably steady despite the frantic racing of your heart.

"What the hell are you doing?" he whispered, his voice rough, a sudden, fierce moisture glistening in the corners of his eyes. His hands were shaking slightly as he pulled them from his pockets.

"A year ago, I told you that kissing you on that field was the first time I felt like I was actually breathing," you said, taking a step closer, your eyes locking onto his with a deep, unwavering intensity. "And for the past year, every single day I’ve spent with you has felt exactly the same. You gave me a home when I didn't have one. You loved me when I was broken. You stood by me when the whole world went dark."

You took a deep breath, slowly sinking down onto one knee on the cold concrete of the plaza.

A collective, sharp gasp echoed from Mina and the squad behind him, but Katsuki didn't hear it. His eyes were glued to you, a single tear finally escaping his lashes, tracing a path down his cheek.

You flipped the red velvet box open, revealing a simple, thick silver band with a small circular diamond resting inside, catching the afternoon light.

"I don't want to wait until next year," you said, looking up at him, your smile blinding and full of an absolute, fierce devotion. "I don't want to wait another day. Katsuki Bakugo... will you marry me?"

For a second, the entire universe stood completely still.

Then, Katsuki let out a ragged, choked sob. He didn't even give you a verbal answer. He just huffed, a fierce, emotional sound, and threw his entire body weight forward.

He dropped to his knees right in front of you, his arms flying around your neck with so much force he nearly sent both of you tumbling backward onto the concrete. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his fingers clawing desperately into the fabric of your graduation gown, his frame shaking with violent, happy sobs.

"Yes, you fucking idiot," Katsuki wept against your skin, his voice cracked and raw with an intense, overwhelming joy. "Yes, of course I will."

The plaza behind you erupted.

Mina let out a deafening, glass-shattering shriek of pure excitement, jumping up and down before throwing herself into Kirishima, who was openly wiping tears from his own eyes while cheering at the top of his lungs. Kaminari and Sero were high-fiving, shouting loudly, while Jiro smiled widely, clapping her hands. A few yards back, Mitsuki was crying openly, hugging your mother tightly, while Masaru stood beside them, a warm, incredibly proud smile on his face.

You wrapped your arms around Katsuki’s waist, pulling him so close you could feel the frantic, heavy rhythm of his heart matching your own. You pressed a warm, lingering kiss into his messy blonde hair, breathing him in, feeling the absolute, undeniable weight of your future settling into place.

You pulled back just enough to slide the silver band onto his finger, his hand trembling violently in yours before he grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a fierce, breathless kiss right there in the middle of the open plaza.

There was no tension. There was no fear.

As you held him under the bright afternoon sky, surrounded by the family you had chosen and the mother who had chosen you, you knew that the dark was finally gone. You were in the light, and you were never going back.

“baby. go,” you hum, dragging your slippered feet across your floor.

you tuck your body between his open legs, putting down your bottle and snacks to lightly tickle under his chin. you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever experienced from him, though it’s still miles below the ones he gives at work. 

calloused hands find the bare backs of your soft thighs and lightly, he squeezes.

“you fuckin’ hate me,” he huffs, but his pout comes through. all his features softening under your attention, minus the twist in his brows. “gettin’ rid of me like this.”

you don’t miss the hickies on his neck, two maroon bruises because all you’ve done together these past few days is kiss, cuddle, eat and have sex. since bakugou became your boyfriend, he often forgets about his own apartment. his home is much larger, much more luxurious with built in speakers in the ceilings and a double headed shower. but he always lingers in yours, though he never outstays his welcome. even now.

“i don’t want you to leave but you need to pack for your mission tomorrow,” you smile, taller than him as he sits.

he feels delirious when he stuffs his face in your cotton soft stomach. you smell freshly showered, clean, cosy and like home. bakugou feels like his heart has been stabbed with a fork. he already misses you and you’re right in front of him.

it’s like he’s fighting the devil on his shoulder, to just stay over again tonight and get up early tomorrow. he can grab his shit from home and go straight there. he knows that plan will throw his whole day off tomorrow. also you hate waking up early.

he blinks at you slowly, like a cat that loves what he sees.

for you, it’s easy to get hot from his touch alone and that stare makes you nudge in closer to him. you want to sit on his lap, kiss down his neck again, despite being all over him an hour ago.

“you want me to piss off so you can watch love island,” he breathes, looking up at you with the sweetest ruby puppy dog eyes. there’s a scratchy tone to his voice, sleepiness clearly taking over though he fights it to spend a second longer with you.

you know for a fact you’re the only person in this universe that has seen katsuki like this. that thought alone makes you want to call up his job and say he can’t come in tomorrow. say he’s sick so you can cuddle his big head in your lap. who would you even call? the hero commission? his sidekicks? he is his own boss.

“i do have a load of episodes to catch up on since you’ve been here,” you say sweetly and he eyes your snacks, then your water bottle placed on the shelf beside him.

he’s a grumpy baby in a twenty seven year old, muscled man’s body. he scrunches his nose at the mention of that show. he hates all reality tv, so he says, even though he ends up asking you for details throughout every episode.

“just say you hate me,” he grunts, tilting his head up for a kiss.

you don’t give in just yet.

“i love you but you’ve gotta go. you’ll be even grumpier without sleep in the morning,” you smile.

he rolls his eyes. ever the dramatic one. “yeah, yeah. i get it. love you too.”

you stand there for a few moments. his grip on your thighs getting tighter, his chin in your stomach. he rubs his cheek against your palm, his stubble prickling against you with every move.

“you need to put your shoes on—,”

“you look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, even biting down on his bottom lip.

you narrow your eyes at him. you know exactly what he’s doing and it usually has a hundred percent success ratio.

he pulls off you, keeping his hands on your thighs to look down your body. stupidly, it causes you to look down at yourself too.

your soft pastel pink  boy shorts because you get hot at night. your comfy low cut navy strappy top, that has seen better days but you have no need to replace yet. your nipples poke through the fabric and you don’t miss bakugou’s gaze wafting over them with his tongue poking his cheek.

he looks as if he’s about to moan or take a bite out of you. you can’t tell yet. you don’t mind either.

“katsuki, stop it. you were supposed to leave an hour ago,” you look to your clock beside your front door. “an hour and a half ago.”

bakugou grits his teeth then relaxes by kissing the strip of your stomach between your vest and shorts. he releases the quietest whine.

“i wanna stay here with you.”

even though he’s being dramatic, you’ll see him in less than a week, every word releases tingles down your spine.

you press a kiss to his lips, to which he eagerly pushes back. his hands sneak up to your waist holding you with purpose. it’s only a peck but everything he’s feeling is translated through.

“you’re killin’ me,” he says onto your lips.

“it’s not me, baby. you have the world to save tomorrow. you can make love to your girlfriend when you get back,” you say tenderly, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“i’m givin’ you a good fuckin’ when i see you again.”

“you always do,” you shrug playfully and bakugou chuckles, shaking his head in resignation.

“fuck. fuck my life,” he grunts to himself, pulling his slides off your shoe rack and shoving them onto his feet.

“it feels like you’re obsessed with me, kats,” you giggle to yourself, stepping back so he has space to stand up and sling his duffle over his shoulder.

he raises one eyebrow, a huffy laugh releasing from his throat.

“hm? you think?” he takes his hand through his hair, a light pink blush on his cheeks from your attention. “‘course i fuckin’ am. i’m comin’ right back to get you when i’m done.”

you lift up on your tiptoes, hands on his pectorals, “if you say so.”

“i do say so. i am sayin’ that,” he mumbles, hands finding your ass to lift you with ease.

you wrap your legs around his waist so he doesn’t have to bend to kiss you.

“next thursday, okay?” he kisses the corner of your lips, feeling your cheeks rise. “and still text me. i’ll have my phone on me in the evenings.”

you smooth down his eyebrows with your thumbs.

“yes, dynamight sir,” you drawl, but you lean in to peck him, a noisy kiss that has him chasing after you. he moans softly.

“another.” he whispers.

with your arms wrapped around his neck, you give his bottom lip a nibble, one that causes an exasperated groan. then you slot your lips over his, pushing your tongue into his mouth to tangle against his. it’s long, wet and pulses throughout your body.

you push your chest against his as if you’re trying to merge into one, bakugou’s fingertips sinking into your ass cheeks.

it’s you that pulls away, landing two kisses on his lips for good measure.

“baby, no.” he complains.

since you’re the only one with self control here, you tap his shoulder.

“put me down now. you’ve got to go.” you say controlled and bakugou throws his head back in annoyance, “need you wide awake on the field so you don’t get hurt. i don’t wanna see a scratch on your pretty face when you come back.”

that gets him putting you down, your feet finding the floor. since getting with you, he’s much more mindful of his recklessness and getting hurt. bakugou doesn’t want to scare or upset you. you’ve become his beacon of light, his conscience and answer.

“my pretty face?” he grips the handle to his bag, a smirk rising. he’s still taking in his last few seconds.

you nod, “yes. come home safe to me.”

“i always do. don’t have to doubt me, princess.”

the pet name gets you rolling your eyes to hide how it makes your stomach do flips. he undoes both your door locks and slowly opens it with his shoulder like it weighs a tonne.

as if it’s becoming real all of a sudden, you throw yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a cuddle under his hoodie. you feel complete once you stuff your cheek between his pectorals and you squeeze him tight as thick arms cradle you in. katsuki’s always warm and toasty, a tall standing mattress for you to fall asleep on.

despite you urging him to leave, it doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t ache.

“i’ll miss you,” you say, eyes squeezed shut.

you’re just as dramatic as him, you just hide it better. you’ll see him next week.

“i’ll miss you. gonna think about you when i’m on the camp site shittin’ in the woods.”

your laugh makes bakugou’s chest swell.

“you’re so annoying.”

he shrugs.

with all the power he’s ever possessed in one single time, bakugou lets you untangle from him.

“i’m gonna go now.” he looks down your empty corridor, “i could stay over tonight and leave in the mornin’—.”

“you’re not waking me up at three.”

he turns to you with a frown.

“fine. another kiss, to wish me well,” he demands.

that you can do.

a smush of your lips, you gripping his tee as his hand cups your chin.

“another. for good luck.”

you huff playfully but still you give him another kiss. one that has you opening your mouth and letting him slot his tongue in between. it goes on longer than you mean, with you dragging him closer and his hands land back on your hips.

it’s when he groans without realising, a hardening bump in his waistband pressing against your stomach.

“go now!” you say, pushing him off you and bakugou drags a palm down his face.

“fuck,” he breathes, shaking the horny off his body. not the time. “i’ll see you next week. lock the door behind me. all of them.”

“i always do!”

he flickers down your body, one step into the corridor. 

bakugou bites down on his bottom lip, “i love you. can’t wait to see you again.”

you awe, gripping the door and peeking out, “i love you too. i’ll keep you updated. even send you some selfies.”

bakugou nods rapidly, “please. i won’t be able to reply quickly but i will.”

“okay, i’ll see you later.”

he’s about to step away, he swears he is though he looks back at you peeping at him.

“one last kiss then i’m outta your sight,” he promises.

you eagerly pull out from behind the door, “last one! then you have to go!”

“yeah, yeah, yeah—,” he’s rough in the way you love, placing a palm flat on your back to pull you into him. you practically fall into his arms but quickly you’re up on your tiptoes.

it’s a kiss with the energy that it could be the last one you ever have. a hero going off on a mission and leaving his beautiful girl back home. though this isn’t one of his high risk ones, heck he’s going on his own because he’s so capable. yet still the day he returns feels like forever away.

you practically eat each other's faces, unable to stay appropriate down to your last moments together. you twist to the left as he goes right, holding the back of his head so he stays close. he’s not shy to push his cock into you, letting you know all the ways he will miss you.

it’s loud and messy. it’s trying to remember every inch of him so you can recall it in your nights alone. it’s bakugou groping every part of you he can get his hands on so he can mark you as his.

your blonde sucks on your tongue and you don’t mean to palm him but he ruts into you at the contact. you moan as pleasure sparks beneath your skin, the length of him growing cupped in your palm. you’re wondering if there’s time for another session even though he was meant to leave two hours ago.

the kiss only ends because you’re both breathless, using your last breaths to connect with the other. there’s giggles from you and three extra pecks before you force yourself to step away, using your front door as a shield from your riled up boyfriend.

you watch as he adjusts himself, rolls back his shoulders in a stretch and tries to screw his head on straight.

“goodbye now. for real, kats.”

he nods sharply, stretching his jaw side to side. “bye baby. i’m hard now.”

“that’s your own fault for begging for more kisses,” you grin.

he pouts, “how couldn’t i when you look like—,”

“bye katsuki. my tv is calling me!”

“fuck,” he groans, holding onto his bag strap and throwing his head back, “bye princess.”

If anything, he shifted his stance, shoulders rolling back as he flexed deliberately under your fingers. The definition popped even harder, veins tracing faint lines beneath the surface. Your mouth went dry.

He rolled his eyes - reading you easily - and bent down to throw you over his shoulder in one easy motion, “C’mon then, pervert.”

The view from his shoulder was sinful - his slim waist, the defined muscle under his tank top, the curve of his ass in those grey sweatpants. You couldn’t resist reaching down to give him a squeeze with a cheeky giggle. He growled a warning, pinching your thigh lightly.

He kicked the bedroom door open, crossing the room in a few large steps. He tossed you onto the bed, hands immediately finding the hem of your shorts, pulling them - and your panties - down in one go.

You giggled as the cool air hit you, resting one foot against his thigh, “Someone’s eager.”

“Yeah, you,” His hand found your ankle, the other swiping your folds. “Fuckin’ soaked already.”

He crawled onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard, one arm extended - palm up. His fingers were glinting lightly with your slick. You sat up, hesitating for all of one second before he scowled, reaching out to tug you forward, “C’mon, I ain’t got all night.”

He did, in fact, have all night - neither of you had plans the next day. You knew the real reason behind his agitation - the twitching bulge in his sweatpants gave away the excitement in his veins.

You bit your lip to hide a smile, crawling over to him. You swung one leg over his arm, thighs stretching as you hovered over the firm muscle. One large hand rested against your back, keeping you steady. The other found your hip as he spoke, looking up at you with a scowl, “Quit hesitating. You were so confident a minute ago. Prove it wasn’t all talk.”

You huffed, bracing yourself on the headboard, “Give me a second, hotshot. I’ve never done this before.”

He scoffed, squeezing your hip. His eyes flicked down to your dripping sex before finding yours again, “How the hell is this any different from riding my thigh?”

You threw your head back, groaning dramatically, “‘Cause it just is! Now shut up and flex.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt, but listened anyway. The already defined lines of his arm grew bigger, veins popping out as he contracted the muscle. Your hips didn’t move, but his arm brushed against your lips anyways.

You let out a small whine as you sank down, covering the hand on your hip with your own. He let out a groan at the feeling of your warm juices soaking his bicep, pressing his forehead into your stomach.

“Can’t believe you’re really doin’ it,” his breath was hot against your skin.

You rolled your hips once, clit dragging alone the peak of his arm. The muscle jumped and flexed under you as he adjusted, veins standing out sharply under your soaked pussy. A needy sound escaped your throat.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you gasped, gripping the headboard tighter, moving the other hand to his shoulder for leverage. You started moving properly - slow grinds at first, then building into a steady rhythm, sliding back and forth along the length of his arm.

Katsuki pulled his head back, watching you with dark, half-lidded eyes - jaw tight. His eyes flicked from your face, to your hips, to your slick pussy stretched across his arm. Every time you rolled forward, your clit caught perfectly on the thickest part of his bicep, sending sharp sparks of pleasure through you. Your juices ran freely now, dripping down his body and onto the sheets.

“You’re fuckin’ filthy,” he growled. “How long you been thinkin’ about this, huh?”

His hand squeezed your hip, pushing you down harder on the muscle as he flexed again. The movement sent little shocks through your body, rock-solid muscle expanding underneath you.

“A while,” you gasped, pushing yourself back against his bent forearm for leverage. “You’re just so pretty, Kats.”

He let out a huff, “Yeah? You look fuckin’ gorgeous like this. Rubbin’ on my arm like some desperate slut.”

You could only moan in response, hips stuttering as pleasure coiled tight and hot in your belly. He shifted his arm slightly, angling it so the thickest part rubbed relentlessly against you with every roll. The friction was maddening - too much and not enough all at once.

You panted, grinding down harder. Your voice came out light and breathless, “Wanted to feel how strong you are- fuck- right there-”

Katsuki’s breath hitched. His cock was straining painfully against his sweatpants, a dark wet spot forming at the tip. His hand left your hip, palming himself roughly through the fabric as he watched you use his arm.

“Faster,” he ordered, voice strained. “C’mon, ride it like you mean it.”

You obeyed, thighs burning as you picked up the pace. The slick glide of your pussy over his hot skin, the way his muscle jumped and flexed under you with every thrust of your hips - it was perfect. Your clit throbbed, sparks shooting up your spine with every pass.

He leaned in, teeth grazing your stomach before biting down lightly, sucking a mark into your skin, “Gonna cum all over my arm, aren’t you? Make a mess like the little pervert you are.”

The words tipped you over. Your rhythm broke, hips jerking erratically as the orgasm crashed into you. You cried out his name, thighs clamping around his arm as you shook and pulsed, fresh slick gushing over his bicep and dripping onto the sheets. He kept flexing through it, milking every last wave until you were whimpering, oversensitive and trembling.

You slumped forward, forehead pressed to his hair, trying to catch your breath. The hand on your back to rub slow circles into your skin, surprisingly gentle for a few moments.

He gave you roughly fifteen seconds before flipping you over, leaning down to press his forehead to yours, “Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy now?”

You bucked your hips up into his dick, the wet spot on his sweatpants tapping your clit, “Yes, please Kats.”

He grinned, sharp and feral, before leaning back on his heels to pull his clothes down enough to free his cock. It was flushed an angry red, tip steadily leaking pre-cum.

“Y’think you can take me with no prep?” His eyes fixated on yours.

You bit your lip. He was big, always prepping you with three fingers before entering. But, you were also really horny - and didn’t exactly feel like waiting any longer.

Nodding, you grabbed his hair to pull him into a heated kiss. You pulled back, murmuring into his lips, “Be gentle?”

Katsuki’s grin sharpened - all teeth and hunger - but his eyes softened just a fraction at your whispered plea, “Tch. As if I’d hurt you, dumbass.”

He kissed you again - hard, claiming, tongue sliding against yours like he was trying to devour the words right out of your mouth. One broad hand gripped your thigh, spreading you open as he lined himself up.

The blunt head of his cock nudged your soaked entrance, slick and hot. You were still fluttering from your first orgasm - the stretch when he pushed in was immediate and intense. A low groan tore from his throat as he sank the first few inches, your walls clenching greedily around him.

“Fuck- so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth. His hips rolled forward slowly, giving you time to adjust even as his arms trembled with the effort of holding back. Veins stood out along his forearms, the same ones still glistening with your release. “Breathe, baby. That’s it.”

You whimpered into his mouth, nails digging into his strong shoulders as he bottomed out. The fullness was overwhelming - thick, heavy, pressing against every sweet spot inside you. He stayed there for a moment, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to yours while you both panted.

Then he started moving.

Slow, deep strokes at first, grinding his hips into yours. Each thrust dragged against your walls, pulling filthy wet sounds from where you were joined. His bicep flexed beside your head as he braced himself, the muscle you’d just ridden now taut and glistening with sweat.

“Still think my arms are the best part?” he growled, voice rough with restraint. He hiked one of your legs higher around his body, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes, “Or is my cock better?”

You couldn’t even answer properly - just a broken moan as pleasure sparked up your spine. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper. Katsuki cursed under his breath and gave you what you wanted, picking up speed. The bed creaked under the force of his thrusts, headboard knocking against the wall in a steady rhythm.

He dropped his head to your neck, sucking and biting marks into your skin while one hand slid between you to circle your swollen clit, “C’mon, ride my dick like you rode my arm. Show me how bad you need it.”

You did - hips rolling up to meet every thrust, grinding against his pelvis when he pressed deep. The coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter, faster this time, fueled by how full you felt and the raw power rolling through his body.

“Katsuki- fuck, I’m close- ”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock this time?” He slammed in harder, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest. His voice dropped into a snarl, “Do it. Soak me. Wanna feel you milking me dry.”

His fingers pressed firmer on your clit, thumb rubbing tight circles, and that was it. You shattered with a cry, back arching off the bed as your second orgasm ripped through you. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, gushing fresh slick down his length and onto the sheets.

Katsuki groaned loud and broken, hips stuttering as he chased his own release. “That’s it - good girl.”

A few more brutal thrusts and he buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a guttural moan. His cock pulsed hot and heavy, filling you until you felt it leaking out around him.

He picked his head up, pecking your lips lightly as he pulled out of you with a hiss. You expected him to lie next to you - pull you into his chest like he usually did. Instead, he flopped down on top of you, shoving his face into the crook of your neck.

“Still think you’re a pervert,” his voice was muffled by your hair.

You spoke through a smile, “Yeah, and you love me anyways.”

He shoved his face into your skin even further, sighing deeply.

From the outside, all that could be seen of you was a bit of hair and the tiny horns that just began growing. As soon as you had been carried out of the trailer, Bull!bakugou knew you were a part of the heard. His heard, and he'll be damned if a member of his heard wasn't ok. So he slowly approached, sitting in front of you while being sure not to make any noises that may potentially scare you. He scooped you up -blanket and all- feeling the way your entire body tensed at the contact, and gently place you on his lap.

He waited until he felt you relaxed a little before using two fingers to pinch the edge of your fleece shield, slowly moving it away from your face. The sudden amount of bright light proves too much for your sensitive eyes, so you quickly found another way to block out the sunlight.

You pull yourself into something that felt warm, safe. Face buried in the crook of bakugou's arm hugging his forearm to keep it close as possible.

Bakugou could feel the puffs of your breathing against him skin, noticing how abnormally quick and shallow the puffs of air were. The art of soothing a calf wasn't exactly one of his strong suits, the cows always being the ones to take on the task. But of course he remembers how his "old hag" would calm him when he was just a little bull calf.

Deciding to test his mother's methods, the blond bull repositioned you -and the blanket- so your forehead rested against his broad chest. But you never released bakugou's forearm from your stubborn grasp. Leaning his head down, bakugou licked stripes across your fuzzy ears. The act of grooming usually comforted anxious calves, and feeling your body relax against his confirmed it was no different for you. The more he groomed around your ears, the more you melted into him in a newly found contentment. In the brief moment of bliss your ears didn't even pick up the sound of chatter going on around you.

But the sweet moment was unsatisfyingly short. It barely took any time for him to finish the session. But by the end of it your fluffy fur was silky as ever.

There wasn't even enough time to process a thought before he rose to his full height, securing a firm grip on you to ensure your safety. It was impossible to see where he was bringing you with your face still buried in his chest, and there was no chance of adjusting out of the comforting position. All you could hear was the sound of heavy hooves against the ground and a deep grumble of "don't fucking follow me" followed by incoherent mumbling.

You had no choice but to let go of his warm skin when you had been set down once more. This time on a mutch softer surface. You couldn't help but to let your eyes wander, inspecting the new area. It looked to be an individual stall, an extremely large one at that. The floor was covered in a thick layer of bedding, with pieces of furniture scattered here and there. Finished with an area holding piles fresh hay and a basin of clean water.

Bakugou plopped himself down beside you, and as soon as he did two hands grabbed his arm so you could press a cheek against his firm muscly arm. "Oi, the name's Katsuki bakugou, I'm in charge here. Some say the farmers and farm owner is in charge, but that's bullshit. And there's no need to be so damn nervous. Nothi'n here is goi- THE FUCK!?."

He was cut of mid sentence by the feeling of nibbling on his arm. It's a common action done commonly by calves, but he still wasn't expecting that to happen completely out of the blue. Also it was usually the more troublesome calves that possessed that troublesome habbit. From what he had been seeing so far, you were nervous and had a shy demeanor. So your sudden pesky nibbling caught him way off guard.

A strong huff and slight shake of his horns posed as an obvious warning, basically saying knock it off. It worked, you had instantly pulled your teeth away now with your head leaning against him instead. Of course it worked he's Bakugou fucking Katsuki, he's in charge.

"Well you're getting pretty damn comfortable huh? Dose that mean you w- FUCKING HELL! You little shit." While at first you headed his warning, it didn't take long for your mind to discard it. Going back to nibbling on his thick skin. His outburst had you flinching back in a mix of shock and... anger? No. Maybe this was annoyance.

So just as he did moments ago, you huffed. He never intended to upset you but he wasn't going to say it out loud, so he gave a couple licks instead. A caring gesture that made your face visibly light up. It seemed that had been the key to calming you down.

♤ ♡ ♧ ◇

It had been a few days since your arrival and you've had a steady adjustment to life at the farm. Spending time getting to know some of the farmers and pretty heifers. Still following bakugou wherever he wandered, even to the sparring matches between the bulls. Fascinated by the way horns clashed with horns in a display of uncomprehendable power.

To all the bulls amusement, you tired it out for yourself wanting to fight like them.

After stomping and huffing as you'd seen the bulls do countless times, you had gotten a running start, head tilted forward as you trotted directly toward one of the bulls legs. Aiming for the redhead bakugou just finished wrestling around with. But when your comically small horns made contact with his oversized leg, he didn't budge at all. Staying still as a rock while the backlash had you stumbling backwards and landing tail-down on the grass.

Kirishima grabbed your waist and lifted you back to a proper standing position. The two of you had already been fairly well acquainted, as to why there was not much -if any- hesitation in attacking him.

From the outside, all that could be seen of you was a bit of hair and the tiny horns that just began growing. As soon as you had been carried out of the trailer, Bull!bakugou knew you were a part of the heard. His heard, and he'll be damned if a member of his heard wasn't ok. So he slowly approached, sitting in front of you while being sure not to make any noises that may potentially scare you. He scooped you up -blanket and all- feeling the way your entire body tensed at the contact, and gently place you on his lap.

He waited until he felt you relaxed a little before using two fingers to pinch the edge of your fleece shield, slowly moving it away from your face. The sudden amount of bright light proves too much for your sensitive eyes, so you quickly found another way to block out the sunlight.

You pull yourself into something that felt warm, safe. Face buried in the crook of bakugou's arm hugging his forearm to keep it close as possible.

Bakugou could feel the puffs of your breathing against him skin, noticing how abnormally quick and shallow the puffs of air were. The art of soothing a calf wasn't exactly one of his strong suits, the cows always being the ones to take on the task. But of course he remembers how his "old hag" would calm him when he was just a little bull calf.

Deciding to test his mother's methods, the blond bull repositioned you -and the blanket- so your forehead rested against his broad chest. But you never released bakugou's forearm from your stubborn grasp. Leaning his head down, bakugou licked stripes across your fuzzy ears. The act of grooming usually comforted anxious calves, and feeling your body relax against his confirmed it was no different for you. The more he groomed around your ears, the more you melted into him in a newly found contentment. In the brief moment of bliss your ears didn't even pick up the sound of chatter going on around you.

But the sweet moment was unsatisfyingly short. It barely took any time for him to finish the session. But by the end of it your fluffy fur was silky as ever.

There wasn't even enough time to process a thought before he rose to his full height, securing a firm grip on you to ensure your safety. It was impossible to see where he was bringing you with your face still buried in his chest, and there was no chance of adjusting out of the comforting position. All you could hear was the sound of heavy hooves against the ground and a deep grumble of "don't fucking follow me" followed by incoherent mumbling.

You had no choice but to let go of his warm skin when you had been set down once more. This time on a mutch softer surface. You couldn't help but to let your eyes wander, inspecting the new area. It looked to be an individual stall, an extremely large one at that. The floor was covered in a thick layer of bedding, with pieces of furniture scattered here and there. Finished with an area holding piles fresh hay and a basin of clean water.

Bakugou plopped himself down beside you, and as soon as he did two hands grabbed his arm so you could press a cheek against his firm muscly arm. "Oi, the name's Katsuki bakugou, I'm in charge here. Some say the farmers and farm owner is in charge, but that's bullshit. And there's no need to be so damn nervous. Nothi'n here is goi- THE FUCK!?."

He was cut of mid sentence by the feeling of nibbling on his arm. It's a common action done commonly by calves, but he still wasn't expecting that to happen completely out of the blue. Also it was usually the more troublesome calves that possessed that troublesome habbit. From what he had been seeing so far, you were nervous and had a shy demeanor. So your sudden pesky nibbling caught him way off guard.

A strong huff and slight shake of his horns posed as an obvious warning, basically saying knock it off. It worked, you had instantly pulled your teeth away now with your head leaning against him instead. Of course it worked he's Bakugou fucking Katsuki, he's in charge.

"Well you're getting pretty damn comfortable huh? Dose that mean you w- FUCKING HELL! You little shit." While at first you headed his warning, it didn't take long for your mind to discard it. Going back to nibbling on his thick skin. His outburst had you flinching back in a mix of shock and... anger? No. Maybe this was annoyance.

So just as he did moments ago, you huffed. He never intended to upset you but he wasn't going to say it out loud, so he gave a couple licks instead. A caring gesture that made your face visibly light up. It seemed that had been the key to calming you down.

♤ ♡ ♧ ◇

It had been a few days since your arrival and you've had a steady adjustment to life at the farm. Spending time getting to know some of the farmers and pretty heifers. Still following bakugou wherever he wandered, even to the sparring matches between the bulls. Fascinated by the way horns clashed with horns in a display of uncomprehendable power.

To all the bulls amusement, you tired it out for yourself wanting to fight like them.

After stomping and huffing as you'd seen the bulls do countless times, you had gotten a running start, head tilted forward as you trotted directly toward one of the bulls legs. Aiming for the redhead bakugou just finished wrestling around with. But when your comically small horns made contact with his oversized leg, he didn't budge at all. Staying still as a rock while the backlash had you stumbling backwards and landing tail-down on the grass.

Kirishima grabbed your waist and lifted you back to a proper standing position. The two of you had already been fairly well acquainted, as to why there was not much -if any- hesitation in attacking him.

Just this morning, before he went to university to prepare for the match, he’d insisted for you to wear his away-jersey instead. And unlike the team’s usual navy blue uniform, the away jersey was predominantly white with navy blue accents— a design the team rarely wore. So it stood out effortlessly in the crowd of navy blues filling the stadium, and across your back were the words:

BAKUGOU       10

“Wear this.”

“Your away-jersey?”

“People should know who you’re cheerin’ for.”

“Maybe I should scream your name while I’m at it.”

“Good. I should hear it when I’m on the other side.”

“I’m joking—”

“And I’m not.”

Your train of thought was interrupted by the sudden thunderous cheers of the crowd. Your eyes drifted towards the left stadium entrance just as the Yuuei soccer team jogged onto the field and towards the bench area.

At the very front of the group was Katsuki. The captain’s armband clung to his beefy left arm, while a black headband pushed his ash-blond hair away from his face— and he looked insanely hot. Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one who noticed.

“Bakugou looks so hot!”

“I’d let him yell at me.”

“I heard he has a girlfriend.”

“That’s right— it’s me.”

“You wish!”

“Sorry girls, but I'm the girlfriend.”

The group burst into laughter, joking among themselves, and the three of you heard every word.

“Oh… if only they knew.” Mina murmured while you simply smiled to yourself.

As the team gathered near the bench for the coach’s final instructions, Katsuki’s eyes drifted towards the stands, sweeping across countless faces looking for someone. And when his eyes landed on you, he smiled— clearly satisfied with you wearing his jersey.

“Did you see that?”

“Oh my god!”

“He smiled at me!”

“No! He smiled at me.”

“He was totally looking at me.”

“I literally made eye contact with him.”

“I told you I’m the girlfriend!”

Mina and Kyoka beside you snickered while you bit the inside of your cheek just to keep yourself from laughing. 

As the match started, a sharp whistle echoed throughout the stadium, and the crowd erupted into cheers as both teams rushed into action. The ball moved swiftly from one player to another, then a clean pass found its way to Katsuki.

And without thinking— you stood up from your seat.

“GO KATSUKI!”

Several nearby students glanced your way, especially the group of girls sitting behind you.

“Did she just call him Katsuki?”

“How dare she!”

“Who is she to use his given name like that?”

Mina slowly turned her head just enough to glare at them before looking back at you.

“Don’t mind them.”

“They’re just gonna embarrass themselves.” Kyoka said, already looking annoyed by the group of girls.

If only they knew.

You ignored them simply because they had no idea you were the actual girlfriend. After all, this was the first game of the season— first official match with Katsuki as the team captain. It’s also the first match you attended as his girlfriend. Not a lot of people knew about your relationship yet.

Unfortunately, just because you ignored them, doesn’t mean the comments were going to stop.

“The audacity to wear an away-jersey too.”

“I bet she had that customized.”

“Exactly! Since the university only sells navy-blue ones.”

“That’s so delulu of her.”

Kyoka, sitting beside you, looked like she was seconds away from standing up.

“Just say the word, I’ll punch them.”

“Kyoka, it’s fine—”

You simply smiled to yourself and kept your eyes on the field. No amount of whispering from strangers was going to ruin your excitement over watching Katsuki. If anything, it only made you cheer louder.

“GO ON DARLING!”

After more than 90 minutes of the match, the final whistle rang across the stadium, followed by the explosion of cheers from the home crowd. 

Yuuei had won. 

Students cheered loudly while waving their banners in celebration. The Yuuei team players gathered near the bench, patting one another on the back and pulling each other for a hug. Katsuki joined in the celebration, accepting the congratulations with his signature smug smirk, clearly satisfied with the way their team won— in pure dominance.

Without a hint of embarrassment, you shouted as loudly as you could.

“THAT’S MY HONEY!”

Mina immediately burst into laughter while Kyoka just snickered beside you. They both knew you shouted just to rile up the girls who have been talking shit about you the whole game.

“She’s never gonna stop, is she?”

“I’m so embarrassed for her.”

“She really thinks she’s Bakugou’s girlfriend.”

“Even I could never.”

You ignored them for the hundredth time, too busy being happy with Yuuei’s victory to care.

As the team finished celebrating together, the players turned towards the crowd and thanked everyone who supported them before making their way back to their locker room.

And instead of following his team, Katsuki broke away and jogged towards your direction.

“Hold on…”

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh my god!”

Within seconds, the group of girls frantically reached out for their make up kits, reapplying their blushes and lipsticks while hurriedly fixing their hair, desperate to look their very best for Katsuki.

Your Katsuki.

“How do I look?”

“Is my collar crooked?”

“Fix my stray hairs please!”

“I told you he was smiling at us!”

“He totally saw how pretty we are.”

The moment Katsuki reached your section, you stepped away from your seat and walked towards the railing. Katsuki waited for you on the other side of the barrier, one hand casually resting on the railing as he slightly looked up to you.

“So…” A faint smile tugged at his lips, “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Of course!” You nodded excitedly while smiling at him. “You were so cool out there.”

His signature smug smirk only grew.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head slightly while raising a brow at you. “Where’s my congratulations kiss?”

“In here?!”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Haah… seriously.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes at him. 

Despite your initial embarrassment, you leaned over the railing anyway, gently cupped his cheek before giving a quick kiss to his lips.

When you pulled away, you saw Katsuki with his grin even wider than before. Not giving a single care to anyone who watched him kiss his girlfriend.. In fact, it only inflated his ego knowing everyone had witnessed it.

Behind you, the group of girls stood frozen in shock, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Mina and Kyoka, on the other hand, are exchanging amused glances with each other, just watching everything unfold.

“...No way.”

“No fucking way.”

“Did she just…”

“Kissed Bakugou?!”

“That should have been me.”

“Do you think she heard all of that?”

Kyoka just burst into laughter, finally giving up trying to hold it in while Mina looked back at the girls with a grin.

“You bet we did!

All that endless chatter, Katsuki heard every single one of it. He glanced past your shoulder towards the group behind you. A smirk painted his face as he pieced together what had been happening all game.

Then he drifted his attention back to you and without sparing a moment, pulled you closer over the railing.

“Wait, Katsu—”

Before you could finish, Katsuki kissed you again, much longer than the first kiss you gave him. Long enough for your blood to rise up to your cheeks, and especially long enough for those girls behind you to finally realize how wrong they had been.

And when he was fully satisfied, Katsuki pulled away.

“Maybe that’ll shut them up.”

爆豪 勝己 — back to the main masterlist ⊹ ࣪ ˖🫧

(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡ taglist for anything katsuki: @moritas-tiny-theatre @yoloforlifeee

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © my hero academia, horikoshi. © middle artwork, oroshi_mi from twitter. KACCHARINE — anything in here is written by me. do not copy, feed to ai, or repost anywhere.

you and katsuki had a routine—a simple, comforting one. after a long, tiring day of hero training, you both found yourselves soaking in a warm, bubbly bath together. it had started off as something practical, a way to relax aching muscles, but over time, it became more than that. it became a ritual. a moment for just the two of you to be close and forget about the world outside.

but lately, something had been nagging at you. you’d noticed a little extra weight around your stomach and thighs, and though katsuki never mentioned it, your own insecurities had been louder than usual. each time you climbed into the bath with him, you found yourself pulling a towel a little tighter around you, hiding yourself for just a few seconds longer.

tonight was no different. katsuki was already in the tub, the bubbles lazily floating around him as he leaned back with his eyes closed, his spiky hair damp and falling slightly over his forehead. he cracked an eye open as he heard you hesitate by the door.

“tch. you gettin' in or not?” he grumbled, a smirk playing at his lips. “the water’s not gonna wait for you all night.”

you gave a small smile, but your grip tightened on the towel. “yeah, just… gimme a sec.”

his eyebrow quirked at that. he didn’t usually have to wait for you. katsuki’s eyes sharpened, just a bit, as he watched you. something was up. you slowly let the towel drop, but even as you stepped into the water, you couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling. you sank down lower into the bubbles than usual, trying to cover yourself more than necessary.

katsuki leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “oi, what’s with you? you’ve been actin’ weird lately.” he crossed his arms over his chest, muscles flexing in the water. “don’t tell me you’re mad ‘cause i ate the last of those stupid snacks in the pantry. you should’ve been quicker.”

you rolled your eyes at his dramatic tone but stayed quiet. your fingers absentmindedly toyed with the bubbles, and the silence dragged on longer than katsuki could tolerate.

“spit it out already,” he said, now fully sitting up. his red eyes focused on you, waiting.

you hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. “it’s stupid…”

“then it’s probably somethin’ you should’ve told me already.” he leaned closer, splashing a bit as he moved. “what is it?”

you let out a sigh, staring down at the bubbles. “i’ve just… i’ve put on some weight, that’s all. and i guess it’s been bothering me. i don’t look the same, and it’s messing with my head.”

katsuki blinked, his face deadpan for a moment. then, without missing a beat, he snorted. “you’re seriously worried about that?”

“shut up, katsuki,” you snapped, your cheeks burning. “it’s a big deal to me, okay?”

but katsuki didn’t look phased by your outburst. instead, he let out a low chuckle, his usual brash confidence radiating off him. “you’re an idiot,” he muttered, shaking his head. “you really think i give a damn about that? i didn’t get with you ‘cause of how you looked, dumbass.”

his bluntness caught you off guard, and you felt your embarrassment growing. “well, i know that, but—”

“no, you don’t,” he interrupted, leaning closer until his face was right in front of yours. his eyes were intense, and his voice dropped into something softer, though still rough around the edges. “if you knew that, you wouldn’t be hidin’ yourself like this. it’s pissin’ me off.”

your breath hitched, surprised by the sudden shift in the mood. “pissing you off?” you repeated, furrowing your brows.

“yeah,” he said, his hand reaching out to rest on your waist under the water. “you’re fine the way you are, idiot. i don’t care if you’ve put on weight or lost it. i’ve got better things to care about.”

you bit back a smile, your heart doing little flips in your chest. leave it to katsuki to be reassuring in the most katsuki way possible.

“besides,” he added with a smirk, “you’re still gonna kick ass in training, and that’s what matters, right?”

you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “i guess so.”

katsuki’s hand tightened just slightly on your waist, pulling you closer so that your legs brushed against his under the water. “guess? there’s no guessin’ here, dumbass. you’re the strongest person i know, so quit actin’ like a damn wimp.”

you sighed, shaking your head but feeling a lot lighter than you had before. “you really have a way with words, you know that?”

“damn right,” he grinned, pulling you even closer until you were practically sitting in his lap. his other hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “you’re stuck with me, so don’t think for a second i’m gonna let you sit there and doubt yourself.”

for a moment, you just looked at him, taking in his expression. for all his harshness, katsuki had a way of grounding you. he might not say the sweetest things, but everything he did say came from a place of honesty.

“thanks, katsuki,” you said quietly, leaning into his touch.

he huffed, but you could see the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “yeah, yeah. now stop bein’ so damn insecure and relax. we’re supposed to be enjoyin’ the bath.”

you laughed, feeling the tension in your body finally melt away. “okay, fine. but next time, i get the snacks first.”

“tch, like hell you do,” he shot back, grinning. “i’m the one who needs ‘em after training.”

you splashed a bit of water at him playfully, and he growled in mock annoyance before splashing you back, the water sloshing around the tub as the two of you bickered and laughed.

“at least look in my eyes, you damn pervert,” he grumbles, kicking off his slippers and climbing onto the mattress right next to you.

“who, me?” you fake, putting on your best innocent face as you rub the spot he just flicked on your forehead.

“yeah! you!”

you let out a dramatic sigh. “look, it was just a coincidence that i put aaallll your shirts in the washer at the same time, and now you just happen to have to walk around shirtless.” you pause, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“that sounds stupid once you say it out loud, and you know it.”

he just shakes his head, giving you an exasperated look.

“now i feel bad, kats. really, really bad,” you assure him, sliding closer to him. you don't hesitate as you climb right onto his lap, your palms quickly finding his pecs and giving them a soft squeeze.

a sudden silence falls over the room as you just keep squeezing his chest, completely unfazed by the utterly baffled expression spreading across his face. he stares down at you, totally speechless for a second.

“is this helping?” you ask, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“hah?! how the fuck would this help me?!” he demands, his voice rising in annoyance — though you notice he doesn't actually push you off.

“well, i’m offering you support? it really looks like you need it,” you say with a bright smile, your palms still comfortably cupping his firm chest.

katsuki doesn’t need much of a fuse to explode, and that cheeky comment is the final straw.

“fuck off, i’m going to get one of your shirts to wear!” he yells, finally pushing you off his lap.

you roll over the mattress with a loud laugh, clutching your stomach.

“kats, no! wait! please!” you scream after him, trying to catch your breath.

“what now?!” he whips around to face you, his shoulders tense and his nerves already completely shot.

there is a brief, tense moment of silence. you look him up and down.

then—

“did you know your chest jiggles when you move around?”

his face flushes red. “that’s it! i’m taking your favorite shirt!”

“not the blue one!!” you shriek, sitting up in a panic.

“yes, the blue one!!!” he roars back, stomping off towards your closet.

a/n: i miss this man and his titties… 💔

“The first one: one of my exes accused me of cheating on him with my mechanic because my mechanic texted me to come and get my car.”

Bakugou’s head snaps towards you so fast you almost hear his neck crack.

His eyes narrow into a glare.

“The fuck? What kind of loser ass thinking is this?” he barks. “Who gets jealous of a fucking mechanic?”

You chuckle, waving a hand to brush off his intensity before continuing. “Next. One time, his mother visited us and jokingly said that the two of us were too loud last night, but I was on my shift the entire night…”

Bakugou freezes.

It takes him a solid three seconds to process the math, and when it clicks, his jaw goes slack. “The hell? Tell me you at least beat his ass,” he demands.

“Oh, you bet! Me and his mother teamed up actually,” you start laughing at the memory and Bakugou smiles proudly.

“Next. I once did this trend of calling my ex ‘my husband’ and he deadass turned to me and said ‘i’m not your husband’... after talking to me about marriage literally a day before.”

Bakugou lets out a sharp scoff, shaking his head. He pinches the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted by the sheer stupidity of your past dating life.

"An absolute coward," he mutters under his breath.

“Oh, it gets better," you say, "The following day we had a fight and I asked him to tell me three things he liked about me, and he literally pulled out his phone to search ‘good traits in a partner’ since he couldn't think of anything on his own.”

Katsuki drags his palm down his face, his eyes wide with genuine disbelief. “You are shitting me. He had to google why he liked you? I can name fifty things right now without even trying, and that idiot needed a fucking search engine?”

You smile, feeling a warm blush creep up your neck at his words.

“I know you can,” you say proudly as you ruffle his messy, blond hair before turning back to the screen.

“Okay, the next one… He ranked all my friends based on attractiveness... and I got placed fourth.”

The room goes silent.

Katsuki’s expression goes blank, his crimson eyes locking onto yours.

“He did what?”he asks. “Who the fuck does he think he is? You're a damn masterpiece and he put you fourth? Give me his address. I just want to talk.”

You quickly pat his knee to calm him down before he actually storms out to commit a crime. “It’s okay, it’s okay, his opinion didn’t affect me.”

“It better not,” he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And the last one. My ex would pay at every date, just to seem like a ‘provider’ to others, but once the two of us we were alone, he’d ask me back for the money.”

Bakugou lets out a dry laugh.

“Cheap bastard on top of being a brainless extra. Unbelievable.” He turns his head towards you, his gaze softening just a fraction, though his scowl remains.

“Good thing you're with someone who actually knows what you're worth.”

“Yeah, I’m grateful for this,” you assure him while leaning to place a kiss on his lips.

He accepts it, placing his large hand on your waist, and pulling you closer. You sense this won’t just be a simple kiss once he licks your bottom lip, asking for entrance.

“Wait, Kats, I need to stop recording,” you try to distance yourself a bit, but he doesn’t budge.

“Just cut this at editing,” he mutters against your lips. “It’s gonna be a long part tho,” he smirks and you blush instantly.

“Kaaats!”