the delusion fund

cooking for you every time you come over. fluffing up his cushions so you don’t think he only comes to his apartment to sleep and leaves for work. cleans up, showers, resprays himself with cologne and deodorant.

with all that said, you know what to expect with katsuki, especially when you use his front door key for the first time. no need to knock and wait to hear him rush over to the door, waiting a single second to pretend to look like he didn’t just run before opening the door.

this time, you opened the door yourself and instead of seeing your boyfriend in his kitchen, mixing something in his wok, adding soy sauce somewhere and veggies somewhere else, you can’t see him anywhere. you know he’s home though, he texted you an hour ago to say he would be.

you kick off your shoes and pull off your jacket. dumping your bag on the floor, you wade your way through his apartment.

“katsuki? are you on the toilet?” you call but as soon as you enter his living room, you go silent. a smile springs up on your face instead.

“awe,” you mumble and the feeling you get when you see a cute puppy, a little tiny kitten or a chubby sweet baby, fills up inside of you. warmth and love, everything pink with the urge to squeeze.

this grown ass man was dead to the world. laid out on his cloud ivory L shaped sofa, on his back, chest softly breathing up and down, up and down. in through his nose and out through his lips.

it’s rare you witness katsuki sleeping. he’s always up before you for his work and on weekends when you get to sleep in, he’s always in that half awake stage when if you try and sneak out under him, suddenly he gains all consciousness to drag you back.

the size of him is a shock. to see a man that large resting. he feels like a lion, ready to pounce at any hint of a predator. he’s in his comfy clothes, wool hoodie and grey joggers. both his hands on his stomach, resting over each other like an old man. you coo at the sight of him with no frowns nor is he on the edge of a bark.

you kneel at the edge of the sofa, knowing that if anyone where to see you now, you’d be framed as a loving girlfriend or an utter creep.

you couldn’t care less. you brush katsuki’s damp blonde strands off his forehead, wondering whether kissing his cheek is worth it to wake him up.

until one eye snaps open. bakugou jumps out of your grasp, onto his elbows with a yelp, “fuck!”

he makes you jump too, eyes wide as you watch his cortisol slowly level back to normal.

“it’s just me!”

“shit, i wasn’t expectin’ you to be there.” he lays back on the sofa, forearm over his eyes. sleep causes his voice to be a deep growl, every word delicious. “didn’t even realise i fell asleep, was supposed to be startin’ dinner for ya.”

“it’s okay, you must have been sleepy,” you say quietly, hands back on your lap and bakugou swings his head over to look at you.

he licks his bottom lip. eyes with creases around them, skin stiff but the endearment in his eyes is undeniable.

“how are you, sweets? sorry, i’m outta it.” he reaches for your waist, urging you to sit up next to him on the sofa.

you do eagerly, flinging your body over his like he’s your life boat, head on his shoulder. bakugou wraps his arms around your back.

“i’m fine. you’re such a cute sleeper.”

bakugou scoffs, closing his eyes, “shut up.”

“you are! like a baby, one who’s eating all their meals.”

“yeah?” he entertains.

“hm,” you hum, “wanna kiss all over your sweet cheeks.”

he peels one eye open. one thing about the prohero, he loves your attention. “go on. then i’ll start cookin’.”

you sit up, hands on his shoulders, “we can always order in. you’re clearly exhausted.”

“i like cookin’ for you,” he mumbles when you press your lips onto his cheekbone.

immediately bakugou grins, hands resting on your hips.

“but you don’t have to.”

another kiss to his right cheekbone. then his chin.

“i would rather lay here with you,” he murmurs.

“nice. i’ll look for something for us.”

a kiss on his eyelids, then his forehead.

“proper kiss now.” he pushes, tilting up his chin to keep closer to your face.

His gaze barely wavers from one spot on the dance floor, scowl permanently etched on his face as the sight forces him to sip his drink. Your eyes follow his, every inch of you praying he wasn't on guard for some woman tucked between the writhing bodies.

Instead, you catch a glimpse of three men as dangerously out of place as he is — you can only imagine that they're his friends.

They look too grown to be here. broad shoulders shoved in dark button-ups, watches glinting beneath the flashing lights while they stumble over their own feet — flirting with women who cling to them like accessories.

The redhead of the group looks towards the blonde in his drunken stupor, yelling that "he's got another one coming" — yeah, they're his friends alright.

And he does — two at that. 

Two women in short dresses brushing their fingers over his inked arm. he's respectful, but certainly not fazed — barely sparing them a glance as he nods along. 

The conversation doesn't last a minute longer; the two of them sent off with a scoff and flat expressions, already scanning for their next target.

Mina's eyes are already on yours when you turn toward her, reaching for your drink as she smiles in his direction. 

"Looks like it's now or never," she says.

Your breath catches when you're met with crimson eyes staring back, taunting and expectant — like he's been watching you longer than you realized.

He's waiting.

The glass in his hand does nothing to hide the smile on his face, light catching on the crystalline rim as he watches you expectantly. Every step feels like a beckon, willing you with the glow of his irises and the slight spread of his legs to come just a little closer.

Like you're the one being tested.

The booth feels like the only quiet spot in the club. Music and drunken chatter dulling out from your senses — until suddenly all that's left is him.

He's bigger up close. Veins trace his forearm under the low light as he swirls his drink. your eyes catch on the brazen ink — thick, intricate lines curling over every muscle.

"I like your tattoos" you say, elbows resting on the table as you try to ignore how suddenly out of place you feel.

His mouth twitches into a toothy grin, scowl once dominating his face all but gone as it's replaced by a sharper look — he's intrigued.

"Yeah? you like them?" he leans back, eyes dragging over you before it flicks back up to your face, "Means a lot coming from a pretty girl like you."

"Hm" you hum, smile matching his even as you falter under the weight of the new pet name, "They're… hot" 

He lets out a quiet exhale, almost a laugh. 

"The tattoos?" he tilts his head "… Or me?" 

He doesn't wait for your answer. Instead, he trails a thick finger over the skin, pushing his sleeves high enough to expose the ink disappearing beneath his shirt.

Your hand reaches out before you can think, barely grazing his arm before—

"Careful," he warns, voice husky beneath the music, a roughness that hits your ears at just the right tone to make your thighs squeeze, "Some of these are older than you, pretty"

That does it.

"Really?" you tease, fingers now fully tracing the outline of his tattoo, "Is that supposed to scare me?"

You don't miss the way his eyes widen just slightly — gaze flicking to his friends who've seemingly been paying no mind to him all night — before they land on your lips.

"You tell me."

© — tokkushin : all rights reserved. all works belong to me .ᐟ pls do not repost/copy, or feed into ai. ART WAS FOUND ON PINTEREST, pls lmk who the artist is

a/n: new layout i’m playing around with, im not 100% sold but bare with me 🙂‍↕️ - @lonelyfooryouonly ... lwk gonna use the taglist the next time i post