♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

Enzo ☆ he/him ☆ (¬_¬")

[enzstr]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

enzo | he/him | asian | 18

! ! ! : music, writing, reading, karaoke with friends, dc comics and playing games X X X : writers block, homophobia, hot weather (though my country is always hot), racism, toxic people etc.

masterlist ✧⁠* (click to read all of my works!!)

Reminder, I will sometimes post my writing drafts on here for fun since I have nowhere else to post it at. This is only for fun (for now) so please don't take my writing seriously.

[enzstr]

hi im actually not dead im gna continue writing

[enzstr]

the morning is slow.

not the kind that drags, but the kind that feels earned. like peace, like stillness, like something held carefully in your palms and not taken for granted.

sunlight spills across the floor in lazy golden patches. the air smells like warmth. like fabric left in the sun, like skin against sheets, like the faint sweetness of whatever he used to wash his hair. you blink into it, half-awake, half-dreaming, and realize you don’t remember the last time a morning felt like this.

katsuki is already awake.

you feel it in the way his fingers skim the edge of your arm, slow and thoughtful, like he’s memorizing the shape of you. he doesn’t know you’re awake yet, and you don’t tell him. you just stay still, eyes closed, letting him trace the soft places behind your elbow, the faint dip of your wrist.

he’s never been good at words.

but his hands speak quietly. they say, i’m here. they say, i didn’t know i could have this. they say, i don’t want to lose it.

eventually, you shift. just enough to roll closer, to press your face into the space between his neck and shoulder. he doesn’t flinch. just pulls you in with one arm, strong and warm and a little too tight like he still doesn’t trust that this is real.

he smells like sun and laundry and sleep.

you listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. count the seconds between each beat, let yourself breathe in the quiet.

this is what love looks like for him. not flowers, not songs, not whispered poetry, just this. holding you like you’re the only thing anchoring him. running his fingers through your hair when he thinks you won’t notice. letting you see him with his guard down, with sleep still in his eyes and dreams still clinging to his skin.

you could stay here forever.

he doesn’t speak until much later, when the light has shifted and your limbs are tangled and the world has started to wake beyond the window. his voice is rough with sleep and something softer, something almost shy.

you don’t answer right away. just lift your head, meet his eyes and smile.

and that’s enough.

because for once, he lets you see it. not the bravado, not the explosions, not the sharp edges but the boy beneath it all. the one who loves like he’s still learning how, but tries anyway.

and gosh you love him for it.

you always will.

[enzstr]

the sky is bruised purple and pink, the kind of color that makes you miss things you haven’t lost yet.

the park is quiet, almost empty. a single swing sways in the breeze, creaking like it remembers you. katsuki’s sitting on the bench across from it, elbows on his knees, hands knotted together like he’s holding something in.

he doesn’t speak.

you sit beside him anyway, the cold wood pressing into your thighs, the silence folding around the two of you like an old blanket. it’s not awkward, never was. not with him.

you watch the clouds change. he watches you.

after a while, he says, “you used to bring juice boxes here.”

you blink. “you remember that?”

he scoffs, but it’s soft. “you used to try and trade your apple one for my orange one. every time.”

“you always said no.”

"‘cause orange is better,” he mutters, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. you catch it, and it feels like sunlight breaking through tree leaves.

you nudge his shoulder. he doesn’t pull away. instead, he lets it linger. your arm against his, skin warm from the fading sun. the way he leans just slightly into you makes your chest feel too full.

the wind shifts. your fingers brush his.

he glances down. doesn’t move.

you breathe, “katsuki…”

he looks at you then, really looks.

his eyes are molten gold in the fading light, intense and impossibly gentle. like he’s memorizing the exact shape of your face. like he’s trying to remember this moment for when everything else goes loud again.

“what?” he says, but it’s quiet. almost a question he’s afraid to ask.

"nothing." you whisper. “just… don’t want to forget this.”

he doesn’t say anything.

but his hand finds yours, rough, calloused and familiar. he links his pinky with yours first, like he’s testing the weight of the world between you.

and then he holds it, holds you.

the swing creaks behind you. a bird calls out somewhere in the trees. and katsuki’s thumb is tracing circles against your knuckle like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

“i remember this place,” he murmurs. “i remember you.”

and for once, there’s no yelling, no walls. just him. soft and real and here.

you lean your head on his shoulder.

he lets you.

and when he kisses you later, slow and careful and full of everything he never learned how to say. it tastes like orange juice and all the summers you spent growing up side by side.

[enzstr]

HI SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR LONG I'll get back on track and write a new part for only you MAKE SURE TO GO CHECK IT OUT IN MY PROFILE!!!

[enzstr]

Only You || K. Bakugo

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

synopsis: starz26708 and Dino.tnt609, two students who first met in an online chatroom. A friendship had flourished between them. With the strong need to meet each other, 6aku.tnt609 slowly gains curiosity regarding the other's identity, which sparked the desire to meet her within him. What could possibly go wrong?

💭: btw, this is inspired from the Chad Michael Murray and Hilary Duff movie A Cinderella's Story!!

author's note: IM SOOO SORRY FOR UPLOADING SOO LATEEE, i swear its been in my drafts but assignments and school got to me, also happy belated new year..?

words: 2.3k

Chapter 3: Masks and Revelations

The night of the Halloween party arrived faster than I expected, leaving me feeling a whirlwind of anticipation and uncertainty. I’d spent the entire day trying to talk myself into just enjoying the night, letting go of all the "what-ifs" and doubts that kept creeping into my thoughts. My phone buzzed again, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts.

Dino.tnt609: "You still coming? I’ll be waiting for you at 11, just like I said."

I smiled at the message, feeling the warmth spread through me at the thought of him. It felt reassuring to know someone understood me—someone who didn’t expect anything, just wanted to hang out. Still, there was that nagging feeling at the back of my mind, the doubt that made me hesitate. What if it was all too weird? What if he was nothing like I imagined?

I shoved those thoughts away. I had already decided. I was going. I was going to wear the mask and just be. The mask was my safety net, a way to protect myself from feeling vulnerable or exposed. And the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of it. A night where I wasn’t Y/n the student. I could just be me—whoever that was in this moment.

Slipping on my costume, I made sure everything was in place before heading out. The mask fit snugly over my face, leaving only my eyes visible. I felt... anonymous. But in the best possible way. It was a strange, freeing sensation—no expectations, no history, just a chance to start fresh for a few hours.

The venue was decorated in typical Halloween fashion—orange and black streamers hanging from the ceiling, dim lights casting long shadows across the floor, and a haze of fog creeping over the dance floor. Music pulsed through the speakers, mixing with the low murmur of excited chatter. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

My nerves were starting to get the best of me, but I forced myself to keep walking. I wasn’t going to back out now. The party was already in full swing, and the atmosphere was a blend of excitement and carefree energy. It was strange, the anonymity that the mask granted me. I could walk through the crowd without anyone recognizing me. It felt liberating—until I spotted him.

Dino.tnt609. Or rather, I thought it was him.

There, in the center of the dance floor, stood a tall figure, wearing a costume that wasn’t anything extraordinary—just a black hoodie and a pair of jeans—but somehow he still managed to stand out. Even from across the room, his posture demanded attention. There was something unmistakably familiar about the way he carried himself. I froze.

I had no doubt now. This was him. This was Dino.

And yet, as my heart pounded in my chest, I couldn’t help but feel a slight hesitation. What if this moment, this meeting, didn’t live up to what I had imagined? What if he didn’t look like the person I had spent hours texting with? What if he didn’t even like me once he saw me?

Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the crowd, drawing closer to him. My hands were clammy, and my heart was racing faster than it ever had before.

And then, suddenly, he turned around.

I couldn’t help it—I froze. My breath caught in my throat as I looked into his eyes.

Dino.tnt609... but it wasn’t Dino, was it?

His eyes. His face. The slight furrow of his brow as he looked at me with that same arrogant expression I knew all too well. This was no stranger. This was Bakugo Katsuki.

I stared at him, my mind scrambling to make sense of what was happening. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t decide whether I was more shocked, confused, or... terrified. How was it possible? How could Bakugo—my academic rival, the guy I couldn’t stand—be Dino? The person I had been talking to for weeks?

I wanted to say something. To confront him, ask him how he could have been lying to me this whole time. But my voice wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think.

Bakugo, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed at all. His eyes studied me for a moment, taking in the mask, before he smirked. The kind of smirk I knew too well—the one that made me feel like I was about to be set up for something I’d regret.

“Thought you’d show up sooner,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of something I couldn’t quite place. “You’ve been texting me for weeks, and now you show up fashionably late?”

I blinked, my heart still pounding. I had to fight to keep my voice steady, to keep myself from panicking.

“I—I didn’t know you’d be here,” I managed to say, my words stumbling out of me. “I mean, I didn’t expect you to be...” I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

Bakugo chuckled, and for a moment, I felt a small surge of relief. It was familiar, in an odd way. But at the same time, it felt like everything was shifting beneath my feet. The person I had thought I knew through messages—Dino—wasn’t someone else at all. It was Bakugo. And he... he didn’t know who I was.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I had to suppress the urge to step back. I didn’t know what to do next. Should I say something? Confront him? But if I did, it could ruin everything. This whole night, this whole opportunity to just be, would fall apart.

Bakugo didn’t seem to care that I was struggling. He leaned against the bar casually, the same Bakugo I’d seen a hundred times. “You’re not gonna tell me you didn’t recognize me, are you?” he asked, the smirk still playing on his lips.

I took a steadying breath, forcing myself to hold my ground. There was no way I could back out now, not when everything was on the line. “I... didn’t expect you to be here,” I repeated, the words coming out a little more confidently this time. “But I guess you like to keep things... interesting, don’t you?”

He gave me a pointed look, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You have no idea.”

And just like that, the world around us seemed to fade. I wasn’t sure if I was nervous, excited, or if I was still trying to figure out what this even meant. But somehow, the tension between us felt different tonight. As if, just maybe, everything was about to change.

Because in this crowded room, with the lights flashing and the music pulsing through the speakers, Bakugo wasn’t just the person I fought against every day. He was something else. Something I didn’t fully understand yet.

And I had a feeling that tonight, I was going to find out.

The music shifted, blending seamlessly from one track to the next, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. Every beat seemed to echo in the pit of my stomach, growing louder, faster. Bakugo was still leaning against the bar, his posture relaxed, yet something about the way he stood—so confident, so sure—was making everything feel... charged.

I didn’t know what to do. Did I confront him? Rip the mask off and tell him I was the girl he’d been talking to? Or did I keep playing the game? Keep pretending like I didn’t know the truth, like I wasn’t standing here with my mind reeling in confusion?

Bakugo broke the silence, his voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts.

“You’re not as shy as I thought you’d be,” he said, a teasing edge to his tone, his smirk still lingering. “You’re a lot bolder in person than you are over text.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite the tension I was feeling. “Guess I like to keep people guessing,” I replied, hoping the casualness in my voice would hide the nerves I could barely contain.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening. “I bet you do. But what’s the deal with the mask? You hiding something under there?”

I felt a flicker of heat crawl up my neck. It wasn’t a question I’d expected from him. Maybe it should’ve been, but in that moment, it threw me off. My hand instinctively reached up to touch the mask, adjusting it just a little.

“I’m not hiding anything,” I said, trying to sound confident, though my voice was almost too soft. “I just... like the freedom.”

Bakugo’s gaze softened just slightly, the teasing smirk fading into something else—something that made my heart beat faster. "Freedom, huh?" he muttered, almost to himself. “Guess I can understand that. Sometimes, it’s easier to be someone else for a while. No one expects anything.”

The way he said it, with that quiet vulnerability, sent a chill through me. Was this him being... honest? For once? I had never thought Bakugo would open up, at least not to someone like me. But tonight, everything felt different.

Just as I was about to respond, someone bumped into my shoulder, snapping me out of the moment. I turned, catching a glimpse of a couple of other students in their costumes laughing, oblivious to the tension between Bakugo and me. The normal world seemed to be moving on around us, but here I was, stuck in this odd bubble with him.

I glanced back at Bakugo, and to my surprise, he wasn’t as distant as usual. His usual bravado was still there, but it was almost like the mask I was wearing had somehow made him let his guard down just a fraction. Maybe it was the anonymity, the shared secret between us—that we both knew who each other was but weren’t quite willing to reveal everything just yet.

“So, are you just going to stand there and look at me, or are you going to dance?” Bakugo asked, his words laced with his usual defiance, but there was something almost... playful in his tone.

I blinked, caught off guard. Dance? Me? I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Was he inviting me to actually dance, or was it just a way to keep the conversation going, something to push past the awkwardness?

“Uh, I don’t really... dance,” I said, feeling heat rise in my cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? C’mon, it’s a party. You can’t just stand here and act like you don’t want to let loose for once.”

I swallowed hard, glancing at the dance floor. There were people all around, their bodies swaying with the music. The crowd seemed to move in sync, as though they were all part of the same rhythm. And then there was me—completely frozen, caught between wanting to stay where I was and feeling the pull of something that had nothing to do with the person I was pretending to be.

“Come on,” he said again, his voice softer now, a challenge in his eyes. “I bet you could at least try. You can hide behind the mask all you want, but no one’s gonna bite.”

My thoughts were racing, my heart pounding louder. But then something in me snapped. What was I afraid of? Why was I holding myself back? I was here to let go, to escape the weight of my usual life, to just... be.

“Fine,” I said, finally finding my courage. “But don’t expect me to be some pro dancer or anything.”

Bakugo chuckled, his confidence returning. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He stepped closer, not waiting for me to second guess myself. His hand brushed against mine as he reached out, an invitation to follow him to the dance floor. The touch sent an electric jolt through me. I couldn’t explain it, but there was something about his presence that made the world feel less intimidating, more... alive. Maybe it was the mask, or maybe it was something deeper that I hadn’t quite figured out yet. But whatever it was, it made me take his hand.

We made our way through the crowd, my nerves building again as the music pulsed around us, vibrating through the floor. We found a spot on the edge of the dance floor, a little less crowded but close enough to the energy of the others.

For a moment, neither of us moved. We just stood there, facing each other. I could feel his gaze, sharp and focused, but his eyes weren’t mocking me like usual. Instead, they seemed almost... intrigued.

“Don’t just stand there like a statue,” he said, his voice gruff, but not unkind. “Move.”

I took a deep breath, and then, on instinct, I let the music take over. Slowly, I began to sway to the beat, letting the rhythm pull me in. It wasn’t much at first, just a little movement, but as the song continued, I felt the tension start to melt away.

Bakugo watched me for a few moments, and then, without saying another word, he mirrored my movements. At first, it was tentative, just us shifting with the music. But then, as if we were syncing to the same pulse, the distance between us closed a little. The awkwardness faded into something... else. Something I couldn’t quite name, but something that made the world seem smaller, quieter.

In that moment, I wasn’t Y/n, the student, the one who always had to keep it together. I wasn’t even the girl hiding behind the mask, unsure of what to do. I was just... me, here in this strange, surreal moment with him. And for once, it didn’t matter that we’d spent years as rivals. It didn’t matter that the night would end and we’d go back to being strangers, enemies, whatever.

Right now, it was just us. The music, the beat, the mask.

And for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

only you taglist: @zoast32 @sara4uuu @stanseventeen @sixxze @anabanana-26 @connoisseuroffineart @sikuthealien @kawliflo @lemon-lav @instantmagazineconnoisseur (comment to be added on my taglist!)

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enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[enzstr]

sorry everyone I've been so busy lately i swear I'll be more active 💔💔

[enzstr]

Falling Stars

pairing: katsuki bakugo x reader

notes: ok I'll post only you new chapter tmrw ILL STOP PROCRASTINATING i swear 💯

The first time Bakugo Katsuki saw the meteor shower, he was eight years old.

His mother had yanked him outside in the middle of the night, still scowling about the cold, but her hands were gentle when they wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. The sky stretched endlessly above them, speckled with stars that seemed to vibrate with a light he hadn’t noticed before.

"Look," she said, pointing upward, her voice softer than he was used to. "Watch carefully."

The first streak of light cut through the darkness a moment later, quick and startling. Then another. And another. Soon the sky was alive with motion, stars falling in quiet arcs, each one disappearing before he could catch more than a glimpse.

He remembered how small he felt. How much it scared him.

---------------------------

Years later, he forgot about the meteor shower. Forgot the wonder of that night, shoved it into the same dusty corner of his mind where he kept childhood books and broken toys.

Until now.

-------------------------

The lake was still, dark as ink, reflecting a fractured version of the stars above. Bakugo hadn’t planned to come here, but his feet had carried him to this spot anyway, far from the city’s noise and chaos. His boots crunched against the gravel path, the sound too loud in the quiet.

He didn’t notice you at first.

You were sitting by the water’s edge, your knees drawn up to your chest, your face tilted toward the sky. A flashlight sat beside you, its weak beam illuminating a sketchbook resting on your lap. You were drawing—no, scribbling—furiously, your pencil darting across the page like it couldn’t keep up with your thoughts.

Bakugo frowned. "The hell are you doing out here?"

You flinched, your pencil slipping mid-stroke. For a moment, you just stared at him, wide-eyed, as if you weren’t sure if he was real.

"Watching the meteors," you said finally, your voice barely louder than the rustle of the wind.

He squinted at you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "In the dark? By yourself?"

You shrugged. "It's quieter this way."

"Tch." He sat down without asking, his legs folding stiffly beneath him. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just leave. Maybe it was the way your sketchbook caught the moonlight. Or maybe it was the way you seemed completely unbothered by his presence, as if you’d expected him all along.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

-------------------

The meteors came slowly at first. One streak of light here, another there. You made small, quick marks in your sketchbook, your pencil moving like a whisper.

"Doesn't look like much," Bakugo muttered, his arms crossed.

You glanced at him, your eyes catching the faint glow of the sky. "You're not looking hard enough."

He bristled. "I'm looking just fine."

"Are you?"

The challenge in your voice made him turn toward you, scowling, but you weren’t even looking at him anymore. Your gaze was fixed upward, your expression calm and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world.

"It's not just the meteors," you said after a moment. "It’s the way the light fades. How it leaves behind a trail, like it’s trying to say, 'I was here.'"

He blinked, caught off guard by the thought. "That's... dumb."

You smiled, the kind of smile that wasn’t mocking, just knowing. "Maybe."

---------------

By the time the sky filled with streaks of fire, Bakugo had stopped trying to come up with reasons to leave.

The meteors fell in bursts, some blazing so bright they left afterimages burned into his vision. The lake reflected them all, turning the world into a mirrored blur of light and shadow.

You were still sketching, your movements slowing as the show reached its peak. Your pencil hovered over the page for a moment, then stopped entirely.

"I can't get it right," you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

He glanced at the sketchbook before you could close it. Your lines were rough, unfinished, the shapes jagged and uneven. But there was something raw in them, something that looked more alive than perfect strokes ever could.

"It's not bad," he said gruffly, his voice lower than usual.

You blinked at him, surprised, then laughed softly. "Coming from you, I'll take that as high praise."

He didn’t respond, but his lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smirk.

---

Later, when the meteors began to fade and the sky returned to its quiet, endless stillness, you stood and dusted off your jeans.

"Thanks for not ruining it," you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Bakugo snorted. "Didn’t do it for you."

"I know."

As you walked away, he stayed by the water’s edge, the ghost of your smile lingering in his mind. For the first time in years, he thought about how small the world could make him feel.

And how, sometimes, that wasn’t so bad.

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[enzstr]

a morning behind the explosions

pairing: timeskip bakugo x reader (married with kids au)

notes: this was waaayy back in my old drafts so enjoy reading :P

The early morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The soft murmur of your children’s voices could be heard from the kitchen, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. You smiled, knowing that the morning chaos had already begun—your two kids were always up bright and early, full of energy, ready to face the day.

You rolled over in bed, only to find that Bakugo’s side of the bed was already empty. You sighed with a smile, knowing exactly where he was.

As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by the sight of Bakugo, his red eyes narrowed in concentration, wearing a faded “Kiss the Cook” apron over his usual black compression shirt. He was standing at the stove, one hand gripping a spatula while the other tried to balance a skillet full of eggs.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against the doorway with a teasing smile. "How’s the kitchen going today?"

Bakugo grunted, not turning to face you. “Don’t laugh. I’m making breakfast, alright? The kids wanted pancakes.”

You watched him flip an egg with surprising precision for someone who usually preferred to blow things up rather than cook. Despite his fiery personality, Bakugo had become a surprisingly competent cook over the years—especially after the birth of your first child. He didn’t want to admit it, but you knew he loved taking care of his family, even in the little things.

“Do they always expect you to cook?” you asked, stepping into the kitchen and moving to the counter to grab a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, well, they love my pancakes,” Bakugo said with a huff, his back still to you. “And if I let you cook, they’ll be crying ‘cause you’re too slow.”

You chuckled, watching as your youngest, a rambunctious four-year-old boy, scampered over to the kitchen table. His bright blond hair—so similar to his father's—was a mess, sticking up in all directions.

"Daddy! Can I have the biggest pancake?" he asked, his wide, eager eyes shining up at Bakugo.

"Quit being so damn greedy," Bakugo grumbled, but his voice had softened. He slid a plate of pancakes onto the table for your son. "Eat this first, then we’ll talk about the ‘biggest’ pancake."

Your heart swelled as you watched Bakugo gently serve his son, his gruff demeanor melting just a little when it came to his kids. It was a side of him that you had fallen in love with—the fierce hero, the protective husband, the devoted father.

As your son dug into his food, your daughter, who was just a year older, strolled into the room with her hair tied up in a messy bun. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, still half-asleep, but already demanding attention.

“Mom, can you make my pancakes in the shape of a heart today?” she asked, her voice still sleep-ridden but sweet as can be.

You smiled at her, walking over to give her a quick hug before turning to your husband. “I think she’s requesting a little extra love this morning,” you teased.

Bakugo rolled his eyes but was already pulling out a second skillet to make heart-shaped pancakes. He didn’t say anything, but his subtle smirk told you that he didn’t mind.

“Are you still planning to take them to the park later?” you asked, stirring your coffee.

“Yeah,” Bakugo replied as he flipped another pancake. “I said I’d take ‘em, so I will.” He turned to look at you, his fiery red eyes softening. “You can stay here and rest. You’ve been working all week. I got this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to sit on the couch while you do all the work.”

“Tch, I don’t need you hovering over me,” he muttered, but his voice was softer than usual. “It’s not a big deal.”

You gave him a knowing smile, watching as he poured batter into the pan, a small frown on his face as he tried to make sure the pancakes were perfectly shaped. “You’re getting good at this.”

Bakugo shot you a glare, but there was no heat in it. “You don’t need to act so surprised. I’m not some idiot who can’t learn stuff.”

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m not surprised. I love seeing this side of you, you know?”

He tensed for a moment, but then relaxed into your embrace. “Shut up,” he muttered, though the faintest blush crept across his cheeks.

Your son, now finished with his pancakes, climbed into Bakugo’s lap. "Daddy, can you play with me later?"

Bakugo gave a small sigh, but the smile that tugged at his lips was soft. “Yeah, I’ll play with you after I finish here.”

You watched them, your heart full as you saw the fatherly bond between them. Despite the explosive nature of his quirks and his harsh exterior, Bakugo was, without a doubt, the most dedicated father. And it was in these small, quiet moments that you saw just how much he cherished being a family man.

You grabbed the plates and began setting the table, glancing over at him. "You know, Katsuki, I’m really proud of you."

He scoffed, but there was no hiding the genuine warmth in his eyes. “Tch, don’t get all sappy. I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

You smiled, kissing his cheek quickly before returning to your task. “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you.”

As the morning unfolded, you all sat down together at the table, sharing breakfast and laughs. The chaos of family life, while loud and often overwhelming, was something you had come to cherish. You didn’t need grand gestures from Bakugo—his love for you and the kids was shown in the small moments, in his quiet care and dedication to making sure everything was right.

And in that moment, surrounded by the noise and joy of your family, you knew that no matter how intense the world got, you had your own little piece of peace right here.

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[enzstr]

The soft hum of the bathroom fan echoed through the room as you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of your dress. You had been getting ready for a special event—nothing extravagant, just a dinner with some friends, but it was enough of a reason to pull out something a little fancier.

You had been struggling to zip up the back of your dress. The zipper caught halfway, refusing to budge. After a moment of frustration, you sighed, leaning against the counter, only to hear the sound of the door creaking open.

Sero stepped into the room, leaning against the doorway with a grin on his face. “Need some help?” he asked, his voice smooth and light, a playful glint in his eyes.

You turned, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “You wouldn’t believe it, but I can’t get this zipper to cooperate,” you said, turning your back to him and holding the dress out slightly.

Sero chuckled as he walked over, his fingers brushing against your shoulders as he gently grabbed the zipper. “I got this,” he murmured, his hands steady as they worked to slide the zipper up your back.

As he carefully zipped the dress, his lips lightly brushed the back of your neck. It was a soft, tender kiss—nothing dramatic, just a quiet gesture that made your heart skip a beat.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered into the space between you two, his breath warm against your skin.

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of his affection filling the room. “Thanks,” you said, but before you could say anything more, you felt his lips again, this time brushing just below your shoulder, a tender kiss that made you feel like you were the only one in the world.

His hands lingered on the zipper, fingers grazing your skin as he finished zipping up the dress. The simple act of him dressing you, taking care of those little details, made you feel so cherished. His kisses were always like this—quiet and soft, but packed with so much affection.

“There we go,” he said, his hands moving to your shoulders, his thumbs brushing over the fabric gently. “All zipped up. And... one more for good luck.”

Before you could say anything, his lips pressed to the back of your neck again, a soft and lingering kiss that made your skin tingle. You could feel the smile on his lips, and it made your heart flutter in your chest.

You turned slightly, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and your eyes locked for a brief moment. “You’re good at this,” you whispered, your voice low.

Sero’s smile grew wider, his eyes soft with affection as he took a step closer, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. “It’s just a dress, but... you always make it look better when you wear it.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. The way he took care of you—no grand gestures, no overwhelming displays—was perfect in its simplicity.

With one last soft kiss to your shoulder, Sero moved around to face you, his hands finding yours. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He kissed your forehead lightly before guiding you toward the door, his hand resting on the small of your back. The evening ahead was filled with laughter and conversations, but in the quiet moments like this, when he would zip you up or button your dress and kiss you softly in return, you knew you had everything you needed.

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[enzstr]

posting all my old drafts here bcs i can 🙏💯💯

[enzstr]

A simple gesture

pairing: timeskip pro hero bakugo x florist reader

synopsis: in which a villain attacks a city and how they first met

note: i swear I'll upload the new chapter soon...

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The first time you met the pro hero Dynamight wasn’t under the best of circumstances.

It had been a chaotic morning. The air was thick with the smell of rain, the clouds hanging heavy in the sky like a warning. You were just finishing up with a delivery when the sound of explosions echoed through the streets. The sudden shockwave rattled your windows, the tremor of it sent a slight jolt of panic through your chest.

You knew that voice. It was unmistakable.

Dynamight, also known as Katsuki Bakugo.

As a Pro Hero, his presence was no stranger in the city. He was loud, brash, and was always making a scene—whether it was in the field or just walking down the street. But today, his usual energetic blasts of power seemed a little... too close to your shop.

You rushed outside, ready to make sure nothing had been destroyed, only to be greeted by the sight of Dynamight himself standing in the middle of the street, a few blocks down, as a villain sprinted away from him, seemingly unhurt despite the trail of fire left behind.

With a scowl, he blasted the villain back with a quick explosion, sending the enemy stumbling across the ground, and knocking them unconscious in seconds.

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed the nearest cart of flowers from the front of your shop and ran toward the commotion. The villain had been caught, but the street was left in disarray, flower petals strewn about by the blast of Dynamight's attack. The sudden thought of your shop’s inventory sent a pang of frustration through you.

Just as you reached the scene, he was turning to leave, his back facing you. You could see the slight exhaustion in his shoulders, but as always, his demeanor was harsh. Before he could step away, you called out.

"Hey!" You jogged over to him, trying to steady your breathing. "Do you know just how much damage you caused?!"

Dynamight paused and turned, his fiery gaze locking onto you. His frown deepened, and the usual glint of irritation in his eyes returned "Tch, I don’t have time for this. It’s not like it’s a big deal."

"You literally just knocked over half of my flowers!" you retorted, raising your hands in frustration as you glanced at the scattered petals and crushed stems. You weren’t angry, not really—it was just the instinct to protect what you worked hard for.

He glanced over at the mess with a sigh, his expression softening for a brief second, though he quickly masked it with his usual scowl. "It’s not like I did it on purpose," he muttered, running a hand through his spiky blonde hair. "I’ll pay for the damages, alright?"

You blinked at him, taken aback. This wasn’t what you expected. Most people would’ve brushed it off or ignored it. But Dynamight, in his own strange way, was offering a solution.

"I’m not trying to take your money." you said, the words coming/ blurting out of your mouth before you could think. "Just... be more careful next time, alright?"

He looked at you for a moment, the familiar tension in his jaw easing up just a bit. He didn’t argue, which was surprising. "Fine," he grunted, his hands slipping into his jacket's pockets/ the pockets of his jacket. "Although, you should learn to stand further away when shit like that happens."

A brief chuckle escaped you. "I’m a florist, not a fighter. I’m used to taking care of plants, not dodging explosions."

He shot you a sideways glance, his expression unreadable for a moment. "Yeah, well... flowers are pretty delicate, huh?"

There was a beat of silence between you before he gave a sharp nod and walked away, leaving you to clean up the mess. His footsteps echoed in the quiet street as he disappeared into the distance. You stood there, staring at the spot where he stood, unsure of what had just happened.

---

A week later, Dynamight returned.

You were tending to some roses by the window when the bell above the door chimed again. You didn’t even look up at first, assuming it was a regular customer.

"Got any damn tulips?" a voice grunted from behind you, sounding annoyed.

You paused, recognizing the voice instantly, and turned to face him, who stood in the doorway with an expression that was half irritated and half... hesitant?

"Uh, sure, right here." you said, motioning to the cooler where the tulips were stored. “What’s the occasion?”

He grunted, his eyes darting around as he clearly tried to avoid saying much. “Just... get ‘em ready, okay?” He said awkwardly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. He wasn’t one for sharing personal details, you knew that much. You prepared the bouquet, wrapping the stems carefully, trying not to notice how his gaze seemed to flicker back to you every few seconds.

"Here you go," you said, handing him the small bouquet of vibrant tulips. "Are these for someone special?"

He snatched them from your hands quickly, glancing at the flowers with an unreadable expression. Then, in his usual gruff tone, he muttered, "Yeah, whatever. I’m just trying to make up for last week."

A small, surprised laugh escaped you. "You’re actually apologizing?"

He scowled but said nothing, his hand/grip tightening around the stems of the flowers. "I’m not... apologizing. I’m just making sure I don’t get yelled at again."

Despite his stubbornness, you could see the sincerity in his actions. "Well, thank you. It means a lot, Dynamight," you said quietly, a smile tugging at your lips. "I’m sure whoever’s getting these will appreciate it."

He mumbled something under his breath, then turned to leave. But before he reached the door, he paused, glancing back at you.

"Yeah, well... don’t expect me to start buying flowers every week," he said, his tone a little softer than usual. "But I’ll see you around."

You watched him go, your heart unexpectedly light as you stood behind the counter, the soft scent of tulips still lingering in the air.

Maybe Dynamight was a lot more complicated than he appeared. But you had the feeling that this wasn’t the last time he’d be visiting your little shop.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[enzstr]

mha tweets!!

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[enzstr]

Stars and Secrets | K. Bakugo

note: just had my graduation party yesterday aaaa im so glad its over now (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ

The night was quiet, the city lights flickering in the distance as you and Katsuki sat on the rooftop of his apartment building. A thick blanket was spread out beneath you, and the chilly air was kept at bay by the large hoodie he’d insisted you borrow.

“Quit fidgeting,” Katsuki muttered, lying on his back with one arm behind his head.

“I’m not fidgeting,” you replied, though you adjusted your position for the third time.

He snorted but didn’t say anything, his gaze fixed on the stars above. It wasn’t often that you both had a quiet evening to yourselves, and Katsuki had surprised you earlier by dragging you up here after dinner, a thermos of hot chocolate tucked under his arm.

Now, the warmth of the drink lingered on your hands as you leaned back, stealing a glance at him. His face was relaxed, the usual sharp edges of his expression softened by the calm of the night.

“Katsuki?” you asked quietly, breaking the silence.

“Hm?”

“Why’d you bring me up here?”

He turned his head slightly, one red eye peering at you. “Do I need a reason?”

“No, but you usually have one,” you teased, smiling softly.

He sighed, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees. “You’ve been all over the place lately. Work, training, runnin’ around like an idiot. Figured you needed to breathe for a minute.”

Your chest tightened at the simple honesty in his words. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Someone’s gotta be,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

You reached out, resting a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Katsuki. Really.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He lay back down, tugging you down with him so your head rested on his shoulder.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the world around you fading into a peaceful hum.

“Y’know,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter than usual, “I’m not good at this kinda stuff. But I… care about you. A lot.”

You blinked, turning your head to look at him. His eyes were focused on the sky, his cheeks dusted pink in the moonlight.

A smile broke across your face as you snuggled closer, your hand slipping into his. “You’re better at it than you think, Katsuki.”

He grunted, squeezing your hand lightly. “Don’t push it.”

You laughed softly, the sound blending into the stillness of the night. And as you lay there under the stars, wrapped in his warmth and his quiet, unspoken love, you realized there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[taeggukxiie]

this art will always make me want to bawl my eyes out because what do you mean we could have pro hero touya and health assistant toga only if they had decent parents??

(I hate mha society so much)

[enzstr]

Denki Kaminari's headcannons

notes: I just thought of them earlier while I was on the bed so this isn't proofread

Honestly I feel like being friends with Kaminari would be so fun. Imagine participating in all of the fun activities with him and being part of his friend group. Like one of the things I feel like he’d most likely do is he’d always steal someone’s phone and take a 0.5 picture, if you know what i meaannnn.. Imagine you turn on your phone and you see a 0.5 picture of Kaminari set as your lock screen, that’s not even everything I feel like he does.

Another thing he would do is catfish Mineta on Instagram. That man would do anything just to troll and prank Mineta at any cost, and I mean ANY COST. He would be creating tons of accounts and customizing it to make it look like a girl’s profile, then he’d send dms to Mineta as girls just to prank him, it honestly sounds so funny just imagining it in my head already. 

And of course there was a time where the wii shop music was playing in a constant loop in his head. Everyone in the bakusquad would get sick of him humming that damn music and it lived there for almost 3 months until he got sick of it. While he had the wii shop music blasting in his room, he would be dancing like a maniac with only his pikachu underwear, or just he wears a pikachu underwear in general. There’s  no way he wouldn’t have a whole stack of them in his closet from a sale at his local underwear store, so he wears them each day with different pikachu underwear patterns. 

Kaminari totally has a great music taste. Mainly music from the 80s to the 90s. Everytime he’s in the car, he’d probably snatch the aux and blast all of the songs in the car in joy. Last headcanon is I feel like Mina and Kaminari are so close that they feel like they’re siblings from another mother, you can’t convince me that those two aren’t close at all.

enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!

[enzstr]

Only You || K. Bakugo

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

synopsis: starz26708 and Dino.tnt609, two students who first met in an online chatroom. A friendship had flourished between them. With the strong need to meet each other, 6aku.tnt609 slowly gains curiosity regarding the other's identity, which sparked the desire to meet her within him. What could possibly go wrong?

💭: btw, this is inspired from the Chad Michael Murray and Hilary Duff movie A Cinderella's Story!!

author's note: My deepest apologies it took me so long to upload the new chapter!!! I've been having finals and examinations but I'm free now!! New chapter might come out in a few days or a week since it's in my drafts now...

words: 3.7k

Chapter 2: The Two People

Reader's POV

The following day, I sat in my classes, feeling unusually unfocused. I found my thoughts continually returning to the message I had received the night before from my friend, Dino.tnt609. The words and emotions contained in that message had left a powerful and lingering effect on me, making it difficult for me to fully immerse myself in the subjects being taught.

“Please meet me at the school’s party. I’ll be waiting for you at 11:00 in the middle of the dance floor.” 

Those messages had set themselves so deeply into my thoughts that it was as if they were on a constant replay in my mind. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to rid myself of their presence. They continued to resurface, over and over again, like a stubborn memory that refused to be forgotten. The more I tried to dismiss them, the more their contents seemed to linger in my thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside or ignored.

“Y/n, what is the difference between speed and velocity?”

My heart dropped. I have been half-listening, my mind drifting, thinking about the message Dino sent to me—contemplating meeting him, and the school party. But now, I was completely caught off guard. Difference between speed and velocity—the words sounded fuzzy in my head, like fragments of a puzzle I wasn’t sure how to put together.

That was when she noticed him.

Bakugo.

He was sitting at the back of the class, leaning back in his chair, hands casually folded behind his head. He was grinning—the kind of grin that wasn’t friendly or supportive. It was the kind of grin that only came when you were sure someone else was about to fail. He’d been watching me for a while now, and I could feel his gaze boring into me. I knew exactly what he was thinking: She wasn’t paying attention. She doesn’t know the answer. This is my chance to look good in front of everyone.

The grin on Bakugo’s face widened ever so slightly, and I could almost hear his internal smirk. He had the confidence of someone who’d aced every test without breaking a sweat, someone who knew how to get under your skin with the smallest of gestures. And right now, his quiet, almost smug enjoyment was aimed directly at me.

My stomach twisted. It wasn’t that I cared about beating Dylan, exactly. But I did care about not looking foolish in front of the class—especially when he was clearly expecting me to fail. The challenge hung in the air, palpable, like an unspoken duel. I could almost hear him thinking, Come on, mess up. Please mess up.

The competitive spark in me flared to life, and in that moment, something shifted inside of me. I wasn’t going to let him get the last laugh. No way.

I straightened up in my chair, eyes narrowing just slightly, and forced myself to focus. I don’t need to know everything, I told myself. I just need to know enough to get this answer right.

My gaze locked back onto the board, and suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to make sense of the question. It was a simple logic question—something I could handle if I stopped panicking.

Mr. Aizawa was still looking at me expectantly, but now I had a plan. I took a steadying breath and spoke, my voice clearer than she felt.

“The difference between speed and velocity lies in their definitions, speed is a scalar quantity, meaning it only describes how fast an object is moving, without any reference to direction. For example, if a car is going 50 km/h, that's its speed.”

Her eyes flicked back to the board, confirming her answer. She could feel the weight of the moment—this was what it was all about. She hadn’t been paying attention before, but she was focused now, and she was going to finish strong.

“Velocity, on the other hand, is a vector quantity. This means it not only describes how fast an object is moving but also in which direction. For instance, if the car is traveling at 50 km/h to the east, its velocity is 50 km/h east. In essence, while speed only tells you the rate of motion, velocity provides both the rate and the direction of motion.”

Mr. Aizawa nodded approvingly. "Exactly, Y/n. Well done."

I felt a small surge of relief, but it wasn’t just the satisfaction of getting the answer right. It was the feeling of having turned the tables, of having taken control of the moment that had threatened to spiral out of my grasp. I glanced over at Bakugo, just as he was about to sit up straighter in his chair. His grin faltered when he saw the glint in my eyes.

And that was all the encouragement Bakugo needed.

I couldn’t help myself. A small, almost mischievous smile curved on my lips. It wasn’t an innocent, pleased-with-herself smile—it was the kind of grin you wore when you knew you’d just pulled something off, when you’d just made someone else realize they’d misjudged you.

Bakugo’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly, the smugness faltering for the briefest of moments. He’d thought I’d fumble. He’d thought I wouldn’t know the answer. But I had shown him, and not only had I known the answer—I said it with confidence, without hesitation.

He looked away first, clearly frustrated, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened. I knew that look. He didn’t like losing, even if it was just a small moment, a little victory that nobody else in the room might even notice.

But I noticed. And that was enough for her.

As the class continued, Ellie let herself settle back into her seat, but her mind was sharp, focused, and alive with the thrill of competition. Dylan might have been the golden boy of the class, but today, in this small, unexpected moment, Ellie had beaten him. And for once, it felt really good to smile back at him—just a little bit smug, just a little bit competitive—knowing that he hadn’t seen this coming.

The moment I finished answering the question, I could feel it—a mix of pride and adrenaline coursing through me. I had nailed it, no hesitation, no second-guessing. The class had been quiet after I spoke, the silence hanging in the air before the professor acknowledged my answer. It felt like the eyes of the entire room were on me, but in that instant, I didn’t care. For once, I was the one who had it together.

But then there was the scoff.

I didn’t even need to look at him to know exactly who it was. Bakugo. The ever-present thorn in my side. His chair creaked as he shifted, his eyes narrowing in that way I was so familiar with. He looked almost... irritated, the kind of expression he wore when he thought someone was challenging his spot as top dog in this class. And right now, it was clear that he did not appreciate the fact that I was the one who had answered confidently.

Why does it always have to be him? I wondered, my hands clenched under the desk. I knew it was coming—he was going to find some way to one-up me, to make me feel small for doing something as simple as knowing the answer. I hated how predictable he was, but I hated even more that it affected me so much. I’d never let him see that, though. He had to think I was just as indifferent as he was.

I kept my eyes trained forward, pretending like his irritation didn’t bother me, like I wasn’t still replaying the way he’d looked at me, the way he always tried to put me in my place. It’s just a class. It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. This isn’t real life. This is just some stupid competition.

The bell rang, breaking my thoughts, and the class started to pack up. As usual, Bakugo shoved his things into his bag with that signature smug expression, as if he'd already forgotten the moment I’d answered correctly. He probably wouldn’t give it a second thought, while I would be stewing in it for the rest of the day.

I grabbed my phone, hoping to distract myself. A new message from Dino.tnt 609 popped up. My fingers tapped the screen eagerly, relieved for the sudden shift in focus.

Dino.tnt609: “So, Halloween party tomorrow night.. what do you think? You in?”

I smiled at the message. Dino. He was the one person who could make everything feel lighter, even when things felt heavy. Talking to him always made me feel like I could breathe again after a day of dealing with Bakugo’s constant need to compete. Dino was my escape. He didn’t care about grades or the stupid academic battles I fought with Bakugo every day. He just… gets me.

But then I hesitated. My thumb hovered over the keyboard as I began to type, the excitement of the invite quickly dampened by a twinge of anxiety. The party. It should be fun, right? Just a Halloween party. But the idea of seeing someone in person—someone I had only ever known through texts and memes and game chats—suddenly felt overwhelming. What if I didn’t click with him in real life? What if meeting him was awkward?

But more than that, what if it turned out that the person I was texting with every night was someone I couldn’t stand in real life? What if he was one of those people who, once you met them face to face, you realized you just didn’t vibe with? What if it was someone like Bakugo?

Wait, no. Don’t think that. I tried to push the thought out of my head. I knew it was irrational. Dino wasn’t Bakugo. He couldn’t be. Dino was the one who listened to my rants without judgment. Bakugo would’ve laughed at my complaints, probably turned it into some kind of competition. But Dino didn’t—he understood. He had always been there when I needed to vent about school, about life, about how exhausting it was to constantly feel like I had to prove myself to people who didn’t deserve it.

I bit my lip, still unsure. Maybe I was overthinking it. It’s just a Halloween party. Just one night. The mask I planned to wear would make it easier, give me an extra layer of comfort in case things felt weird. And if it turned out the person I was meeting in real life was someone I couldn’t stand? I could always leave early, or just keep the mask on, keep things light. No pressure.

With a sigh, I finally typed back.

starz26708: “I’m not sure yet. I want to go, but I keep thinking about who I might run into. What if it’s someone I already know and just don’t get along with? I hate the idea of meeting someone and realizing they’re not who I thought they’d be…”

I glanced at the message after I sent it, my heart pounding slightly. What if Dino didn’t understand? What if he thought I was being weird or overdramatic? But no, Dino would get it. He always did.

My phone buzzed almost immediately, and I opened the message from him.

Dino.tnt609: “I totally get it. Meeting people in real life is a lot different, especially when you’ve only talked to them online. But hey, no worries. If you don’t like the vibe when you get there, you don’t have to stay. Just come and hang out for a bit, if you feel like it. We can just keep it lowkey. And honestly, the mask thing sounds awesome. No pressure at all.”

I felt the tension leave my shoulders as I read his reply. Dino’s message was so casual, so easy-going. It reminded me that I didn’t have to overthink everything. The idea of the mask suddenly felt like a safe haven, a way to protect myself if things didn’t go as planned. And if things went well? Even better.

I glanced at my costume on the chair across the room, the simple, cute outfit with the eye mask. It was just for fun, right? It would be a way to keep things light, to feel like I could still hide behind some layer of anonymity, just in case. I could show up, meet DIno, and see how it felt. If I didn’t like the vibe, I could leave. No harm done.

Taking a deep breath, I typed out my response.

starz26708: “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll come to the party. And I’ll wear the mask. No pressure. Just… a fun time, right?”

I hit send and sat back in my chair, feeling both nervous and excited. The thought of meeting Maverick in real life still made my heart race, but now there was a sense of excitement bubbling up, too. No more overthinking. Tomorrow would be what it would be.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, I couldn’t help but think back to the classroom earlier that day, the way Bakugo had looked at me with that scoff, like I was some kind of threat to his place in the class. I couldn’t stop him from being irritated or annoyed by me. But for once, I didn’t need to care. I was about to meet someone who saw me for who I really was, not just some competitor in an academic race.

And for the first time in a while, that felt like enough.

The library was still, the kind of stillness that envelops you like a blanket, pressing in with its quiet whispers. The scent of old books and fresh paper, mingled with the faint hum of fluorescent lights, filled the air. I sat at my usual spot in the corner near the back row of tables, tucked between two towering bookshelves. The table before me was cluttered with textbooks, notebooks, and a half-finished cup of coffee that had long since cooled. It was late afternoon, and the golden light from the windows cast long shadows across the floor, making everything feel a bit more serene than usual.

I liked it here—the calm, the solitude, the sense of focus that always seemed to find its way to me in the midst of my chaotic thoughts. But today, there was an odd distraction. Him. Bakugo.

It wasn’t that he had suddenly appeared or made his presence known in any way. No, he’d been here for a while now, sitting at the table across from hers, his head bent low over a stack of textbooks. His usual aloofness was present, that edge of arrogance that always seemed to follow him like a cloud, but it was muted somehow. Less blatant. Less in-your-face.

I could feel the tension in her chest as I stole a glance at him. My eyes lingered for just a moment, not sure what to make of it. He wasn’t showing off, wasn’t playing the part of the smug academic genius. He was just… working.

It was weird. It had been a while since I’d seen Bakugo like this—since he had been normal. Or maybe that wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was more like he was letting his guard down a little, just enough for me to notice. He was still Bakugo, the same guy who had scoffed at me when I answered that question in class with confidence, the same guy who’d shot me looks of condescension every chance he got. But today, there was something… different.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the way my thoughts were spiraling around him. I didn’t like this feeling. I didn’t like the fact that I was starting to care, even a little, about what Bakugo thought—or, worse, starting to wonder if he was, in some way, not the person I always assumed him to be.

My focus snapped back to my notes. I had a test coming up. A test I needed to ace. No distractions. No thoughts about him. And yet, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting back to him.

Bakugo had paused in the middle of writing, a pencil hovering above his notebook as he looked at something in the distance, his gaze unfocused. There was a tiredness about him today, something uncharacteristic, as though the weight of his own expectations were getting to him. His posture had shifted slightly; no longer the rigid, always-perfect stance, but more slouched, as if the constant pressure of being the best was beginning to wear on him. I had always known that he had his own demons, just as I did. But today, it felt… real somehow. It felt more human.

I tried to shake it off, to tell myself that this was just another moment of my own weakness, my need to understand people. To make sense of things. But it was harder now. It was harder to keep the walls up when I had seen a flicker of something real underneath the arrogance.

Bakugo cleared his throat suddenly, breaking the silence between them, and my eyes shot up, my heart giving an unexpected jolt. He was looking at me now, but not with the same sharp, dismissive gaze I was used to. No, this time, it was... different. There was still a hint of skepticism, but it wasn’t the biting kind. It was almost... curious.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, but not with the usual irritation. It was more like an observation. “Staring off into space.”

I blinked, surprised by the comment. “What?”

“You’re distracted,” he said, his voice quieter now. He shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired sigh. “You’ve been looking at me like I’m some kind of puzzle you’re trying to figure out.”

I frowned, annoyed at how accurately he’d read me, even though I hadn’t been aware of it myself. “I haven’t been staring at you,” I muttered, though it wasn’t very convincing. I hadn’t meant to stare at him, but it was hard not to when something about today felt... off. In a way that was hard to describe.

Bakugo smirked, the edge of his usual arrogance slipping back for a moment. “Sure you haven’t.”

The flicker of their old dynamic was still there, but there was something softer in the way he said it. No ridicule. No malice. Just a simple, half-amused observation.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. This wasn’t helping me focus. And yet, there was something about the way Bakugo was acting today that made me feel like he wasn’t just my academic rival anymore. He wasn’t just the guy who competed against me for every grade, for every small victory.

For a split second,I entertained the thought that maybe—just maybe—I had misjudged him. But I quickly dismissed it. Bakugo was still Bakugo. Still arrogant. Still stubborn. Still too proud for his own good.

“I’m trying to focus,” I muttered, feeling a bit of tension in my chest, my irritation creeping back.

Bakugo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he picked up his pencil again and started scribbling something in his notebook. The sound of the lead scraping against the paper was oddly calming in the otherwise quiet space. I could feel the weight of the moment stretch out, the minutes slipping by as both of us worked, neither of us speaking.

And then, unexpectedly, Bakugo spoke again.

“You know,” he said, his voice a little softer than before, “you’re not the only one stressed out about this stuff.”

I blinked at him. What?

“Yeah,” He continued, not looking up from his work. “I might seem like I have everything figured out all the time, but I don’t. I—” He paused for a second, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something that wasn’t arrogance in his eyes. “I hate feeling like I’m always just... expected to be the best, you know?”

I was taken aback. I didn’t know how to respond at first. This wasn’t the Bakugo I knew, the Bakugo who acted like he had the world on a string and was just waiting for it to fall into place. No, this was different. This was... human. Vulnerable, even.

I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. “I get it,” I said quietly, before I could stop herself. “I feel the same way. Like I’m always trying to prove something. Like I’m never enough.”

Bakugo finally looked up at me then, his expression more thoughtful than I had ever seen it. The usual arrogance was still there, tucked beneath the surface, but it wasn’t all-consuming. For a second, he just looked at her, as if considering her words. And for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say next.

Then, surprisingly, Bakugo offered a small, almost imperceptible nod, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, not into a smirk, but a genuine smile. It wasn’t much—certainly not the kind of smile I ever expect from him—but it was enough.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Guess we’re not so different after all.”

I was silent for a moment, processing the unexpected turn in their conversation. There was still so much about him that grated on my nerves, but in that moment, sitting in the library with him, I realized something. Maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than the arrogant exterior he always wore. Maybe there was a real person beneath all that pride and stubbornness.

And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to see him for who he truly was.

“I guess so,” I replied, offering him a small smile of my own.

Both of us went back to their work, the silence stretching out between us again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… peaceful. There was an understanding now, an unspoken truce. They weren’t enemies, not really—not anymore.

For the first time, I realized that their rivalry didn’t have to define us. We could just be two students, studying together in the same quiet space, both trying to survive the pressures of their lives.

And in that simple moment, sitting across from each other, we both found a kind of peace.

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