Paid In Full-STATEMENT
Summary: In the final war you aided Edgeshot in bringing Bakugo back to life with your healing quirk. However the damage done to your body from the backlash was irreversible. You could no longer be the hero you dreamed of being. You still tried to live life and even moved away for a bit. But now youâre back and Bakugo has been your aggressive nurse, but when he finds out things you havenât told him he feels like he hadnât paid you back at all. So when he finds out Mina is moving out, he feels like he finally has the opportunity to.
tags: slowburn, mutual pining, fluff, SMUT! Unprotected p in v.
a/n: this is truly a self indulgent fic/series for sure. Again thank you for the comments đ„č.
In the tangled shadows of the manicured bushes, the two paparazzi hovered over the camera. The glow of the screen illuminated their grinning faces.
"Holy shit," one whispered, tapping the glass. "Look at the angle. He leaves the restaurant with Uraraka and tracks down some chick in a park to make out? We just caught Pro Hero Dynamight cheating."
"The tabloids are gonna lose their minds," the other hissed, already queuing up the upload link to their editor. "This is worth a fortune. Send it through."
Katsuki was standing at the stove, aggressively flipping eggs with a spatula, while you sat at the kitchen island, wrapped in one of his oversized hoodies, sipping your coffee.
You watched him for a minute but your eyes darted to the ruined couch, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips as you remember the absolute chaos of the night before.
"Hey, Katsuki?" You asked, setting your mug down.
"What?" he grunted, not looking back.
"Does your quirk go off... you know, every time you finish?"
Katsuki stopped, the spatula hovered over the frying pan for a tense three seconds before he slammed it down. He turned around, a bright blush creeping up from his collarbone all the way to the tips of his ears.
"No! It doesn't!" he defended, though his voice cracking, looking anywhere but you. "Look... Iâve never- I thought itâd be fine. The only other time that ever happened was when I was a hormonal teenager first figuring my shit out. When Iâm by myself, it never happens. I have total control."
"Oh," you purred, leaning your chin on your hand, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "So what youâre saying is... I make you lose control?"
"Shut up," he muttered, turning back to the eggs. "It was a fluke. Sensory overload or whatever."
"Well," you joked, a playful smirk plastered across your face. "They do say practice makes perfect. Maybe we just need more practice."
Katsuki stopped again, he turned off the burner completely. He set the spatula down, his expression shifting from embarrassed to intensely predatory in the span of a single heartbeat.
"Yeah?" he murmured, stepping away from the stove. His voice had dropped to that low, gravelly register that made your stomach do flips. "You want to practice?"
He was across the kitchen. In one seamless, powerful motion, grabbing you by the waist and hoisted you backward onto the kitchen counter, knocking over a bottle of vitamins in the process. You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders as he parted your legs with his hips.
"Because I'd love to practice," he smirked, kissing you roughly.
Katsuki didn't waste any time, his hand slid under your hoodie, his warm hand kneeding your breast. His other hand found your dampening panties, his thumb stoking your clothed clit, causing your hips buck forward. His thumb hooked around your panties, sliding them out of the way. His other hand left your breast to shuffle his sweats down.
He was already hard from the sheer thrill of having you right there on the counter. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, burying your face in his neck as he slowly slid his tip up and down your folds pulling a soft gasp from both of you.
He slowly sunk into you, thrusting gently until he was fully inside you, finding a shallow slow rhythm. You let out a soft cry, your fingers knotting into his hair as your legs squeezed his waist tighter.
"Still in control?" You managed to gasp out, a mocking little smile on your lips. He smirked taking your words as a challenge.
"Shut up and hold on." He pulled his hips back before snapping them forward, pulling a gasp out of you. He set a fast, demanding pace, hitting that same dizzying spot that had you arching into him and your toes curling. His thrust desperately, trying to get deeper every time your hips met each other.
Every time you whimpered his name, his grip on your hips tightened, his thumb pressing into your hipbone with a needy, desperate possessiveness. His thrust got harder every time he felt your pussy flutter around him, his face pace faltered. Your back arching even more as his tip kissed your cervix. He was completely focused on you, his breathing turning ragged as you both started to reach toward that familiar, burning peak.
You were so close, the friction and heat blurring everything else out, whenâ
BRRRRRRR-BRRRRRRR-BRRRRRRR!
A loud, obnoxious, high-priority alarm blasted through the apartment.
Katsukiâs pace faltered, his chest heaving as he slowed. You groaned, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet.
BRRRRRRR-BRRRRRRR-BRRRRRRR!
It was his agency work phone, sitting on the living room coffee table, vibrating so hard it was practically moving on its own.
"Noooo," you whined, your legs slumping slightly around his waist. "Please tell me that isnât your work phone."
Katsuki closed his eyes, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder with a heavy, deeply defeated sigh. His shoulders slumped as he let out a long, annoyed groan. "Fuck"
With a final, annoyed huff, he slid out of you, leaving you feeling empty and pissed. He gently lifted you setting your feet back down on the floor.
Katsuki snatched the vibrating phone off the coffee table, so hard itâs a miracle the phone didnât shatter.
"What the hell do you want?!" he barked into the receiver.
"What the hell do I want? I want a new career, Bakugo, but instead I'm dealing with you," Miuraâs voice clipped through the speaker, entirely out of patience. The poor man sounded like he was pacing a hole into his office carpet. "We have a massive problem. Some underground forums just leaked photos of you in the park last night with some woman! The press is already running with it."
Katsukiâs jaw clenched, his eyes snapped toward the kitchen, locking onto you. A sudden, ugly jolt of adrenaline spiked through his chest. "The hell are you babbling about? I wasn't doing shit."
"You were kissing someone, Bakugo! Itâs on camera!" Miura raised his voice. "Do you have any idea how much money we spent to secure that high profile dinner?! You were supposed to be at a five-star restaurant with Japan's sweetheart, but instead, you sneaked out the back like a teenager to make out in a public park!"
"I don't give a damn about your fake-ass dinner!" Katsuki shot back, the palms of his hands starting to heat up. "I told you I wasn't playing along with that corporate crap anyway!"
"Well, you're playing in the nuclear fallout now," Miura snapped, completely unfazed by the shouting. "The public thinks Dynamight is a cheating scumbag, your approval ratings are tanking. Get your ass to the agency! Now!"
The line went dead. Miura hung up with a vicious click, clearly refusing to give Katsuki the satisfaction of yelling back.
Katsuki stared at the blank screen, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white.
A text from Kirishima popped up in his banner: 'Bro, this doesnât look manly. What the hell happen?!
Another texted followed, from his mother, Mitsuki Bakugo: 'You absolute dumbass! What did you do?!'
"Katsuki...? What's going on? Is everything okay?"
Katsuki stopped mid stride, looking at you with a look of sheer dread. He swallowed hard, his voice angry and frantic. "The fucking paparazzi. They took photos of us last night on the street. The tabloids ran them. Everyone thinks Iâm cheating on round face."
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
Before you could even process the words, Katsuki was already a whirlwind of panicked energy. He ran to his bedroom and threw open the closet, ripping a clean shirt off the hanger, and bolted into the bathroom. You could hear him aggressively brushing his teeth, cursing around a mouthful of foam.
You follow him and reached for your own phone on the night stand. The moment your screen lit up, your stomach twisted into a tight knot.
The news had broken. Across every major media outlet, social media platform, and the notification banners were flashing in bright red bold letters.
DYNAMIGHTâS DOUBLE LIFE? PRO HERO SPOTTED CHEATING ON URARAKA WITH MYSTERY WOMAN!
Exclusive photos catch the hot-headed hero abandoning his romantic dinner date with Pro Hero Uravity to passionately embrace an unidentified woman in the streets late last night...
Scrolling through the comments, the public reaction was devastating. You through the live comment sections. The internet was a warzone. Half the people were violently throwing hate at Dynamight, calling him a arrogant scumbag, while die-hard fans were desperately denying it, claiming the photos were photoshopped or AI. Thousands of comments were pouring in offering deep sympathy for Uraraka, painting her as the betrayed victim.
Then you looked at your own notifications. Mina had sent a string of texts, followed by a missed FaceTime call.
"Hey!" Katsuki shouted, bursting back into the bedroom, fully dressed but his hair still a wild mess. He grabbed his keys off the dresser. "Youâre coming with me to the agency. Weâre sorting this shit out right now!"
"Right!" You jumped up, adrenaline overriding your usual morning stiffness. You quickly pulled on a pair of pants and a top, not even caring that your hair was a mess, and followed him out the door.
The drive to the agency was pure chaos. Katsuki gripped the steering wheel with one hand, while his phone sat on the dashboard on speakerphone. He was in a screaming match with Miura.
"I am not making a fake public apology for something I didn't fucking do!" Katsuki argued over the engine.
"Bakugo, look at the public perception!" Miuraâs voice shouted back over the speaker. "The narrative is already set! If we don't handle this gracefully, your endorsements are gone!"
"I don't give a shit about the endorsements! I careâ" he cut himself off, his eyes darting to you in the passenger seat, his hand white knuckling the wheel. "Just have the damn boardroom ready!"
While they argued, you sat in the passenger seat, your fingers trembling as you pulled up the official Hero Billboard Charts. The rankings updated in real-time based on public approval and media metrics.
Your breath hitched.
"Shit, heyâŠKats..." you whispered, your voice cutting through his shouting match with the agent.
Katsuki glanced at you, raising an eyebrow.
"What?"
You looked at the screen, a heavy dread settling over you. "The charts. You... you already dropped. You were at 8, now youâre at 15âŠagain."
âTch, shit.â
The cost of last night was hitting hard, and you hadn't even reached the agency yet.
You knew he wasnât mad at you, you knew heâd never blame you for this. But logic couldn't stop the sudden constriction in your throat, or the suffocating weight of a guilt that wasn't even yours to carry. Your mind began its familiar, spiraling trick.
Iâm stressing him outâŠagain. Iâm just making his life more stressful and difficult. I shouldâve checked looked around. I shouldâve just stayed at home. Whyâd I even-
âStop.â his voice interrupting your mental spiral. âYouâre quiet. Itâs just paparazzi idiots being nosy as hell. I didnât know they were there either.â
He intertwined his fingers with yours, pulling your hand up to press a soft, calloused kiss against your skin. He looked entirely out of his depth doing it, but the clumsy sweetness of the gesture anchored you anyway, quieting your mind.
The tires of Katsukiâs car screeched, echoing against the concrete walls of his agency's underground garage. He didn't even wait for the engine to fully die before he was out of his seat, opening your door and pulling you out as gently but as quickly as possible.
Outside the main entrance, a swarm of paparazzi and journalists were already gathering. You could hear them even from down here. Katsukiâs grip on your wrist was firm but completely mindful of the possible nerve pain that could potentially flare up thanks to the sudden stress. He guided you through the heavy security back doors, keeping you close behind him.
The moment the two of you stepped into the hallways, the entire atmosphere shifted.
The busy hum of the agency died suddenly and the air felt suffocating. Employees, sidekicks, and support staff stopped dead in their tracks. Papers lowered. Clipboards tilted. Every single pair of eyes burned into you, tracking your face, trying to match your features to the blurry, scandalous photos that had destroyed the internet an hour ago.
âIs that her? The girl from the park?â
âWho even is she? A civilian?â
âI think sheâs a retired sidekick?â
âShe looks familiarâ
âDid Dynamight really throw away his reputation for a nobody?â
The whispers chased you up the elevator. Katsuki didn't look at a single one of them, but the terrifyingly loud sparks popping from his clenched fists told you everything. He was vibrating with a lethal, suppressed rage, as he kicked the boardroom door open.
Miura, his head PR manager, was pacing the floor, sweat beading on his forehead. On the massive conference table, three different tablets were face up, their screens a chaotic blur of live update on social media feeds. On the main wall screen, a speakerphone line was active, glowing with the logo of Urarakaâs agency.
"I don't care about the press release timeline!" Miura slammed his open hand on the table, spinning around as the door banged against the wall. His eyes landed on Katsuki, then slowly slid down to you. He stopped mid-stride, squinting through his glasses. "Wait. What. You... you look-? Who the hell is this?"
Katsuki stepped directly in front of you, completely shielding you from Miura's prying eyes. "Keep your eyes to yourself, you bastard," Katsuki muttered, his voice a low and annoyed. "Y/n J/n. Now tell me what the fuck the damage is."
The line on the speakerphone went dead silent. Kugisaki, Urarakaâs head PR agent spoke up. "Wait...l/n? That healer support hero from the UA class?"
"Yeah, that's her," Katsuki snapped. "Now start talking."
Miura sank into a chair, rubbing his temples, completely ignoring the weight of your name as he pulled up a tablet. "The damage is catastrophic, Bakugo. Look at the feeds. Itâs a bloodbath."
He slid the tablet across the table. You leaned over slightly, your eyes catching the horrific headlines and top comments scrolling by at a dizzying speed:
[#DynamightIsOver] He really cheated on Uravity? After everything sheâs done for the community? Men are trash.
[QuirkBro9821] Uraraka deserves so much better. Look at her charity work, and heâs out here humiliating her.
[riotlover1016] How are you going to be best friends with the Red Riot and still cheat?!đ
[HeroWatch] Dynamightâs agency is silent. Support for Uravity triples as fans rally around her.
[HeroGossip] Well he did place in top 5 in Heroes most likely to be toxicđ€·đœââïž
"They're painting you as a toxic, lying cheater, and they're treating Uraraka like a tragic saint," Miura sighed, leaning back.
"Urarakaâs agency wants to release a statement immediately confirming a breakup to save her image, which means you take the full heat. You'll lose your endorsements by tonight."
"We have to protect Ochaco's brand," Kugisaki, chimed in over the speaker. "We can't be dragged down by Dynamightâs... indiscretion. We need a clean break. Weâll say they grew apart, but the photo makes him look guilty."
"No," Katsuki growled, his palms sparking against the back of a chair. "We aren't releasing a single lie. The 'relationship' with round face was a fake PR stunt your agency begged for to boost her charity counseling drive. I only agreed to it because I wanted the paparazzi off my own goddamn back. We tell them the truth."
"We can't just say it was fake!" Miura countered, slamming his pen down. "If we just say 'Oh, it was a PR stunt,' the public will think you're both liars and frauds. Theyâll hate you and Uraraka. We need a reason why it was fake. A reason the public will accept."
"Then make up a reason! That's what I pay you for!" Katsuki yelled.
The room fell into a tense, frustrating back-and-forth. For ten minutes, ideas were thrown at the wall and immediately smashed to pieces.
"What if we say it was for an undercover sting operation?" Kugisaki suggested.
"Stupid. The commission would have to back it up, and they won't lie for us," Miura shut it down.
"What if we say you and Uraraka were already broken up, and the timeline of the photo is being manipulated?" Miura offered.
"The photos are timestamped, moron. The internet already proved it was last night," Katsuki groaned, dragging his hands down his face.
You stood there, listening to them look for a way out of the terrifying reality of the public eye. Feeling nauseous and useless. You rack your brain trying to find a solution.
"Why..." your voice was small, you cleared your voice it cut through the noise.
Katsuki turned his head instantly, his eyes softening the second they landed on you.
"Why canât we just tell them the truth again?" you questioned, your face feeling hot when the attention turned to you.
âWho did you say you were again?â Miura questioned, his mind trying to think of why your name sounded familiar.
âY/n L/n, sirâ You looked at Miura, your eyes wide with a quiet, building panic.
âWaitâŠl/nâŠl/n? Youâre the girl that saved Bakugo! What was it? H/N?â Miura looked like he could kiss you. âYour name should be a household name? Why isnât?â
Katsuki looked at you, searching for any sign of discomfort, any sign that you were overwhelmed.
"Oh, ah-well, after the war... I spent a year trying to figure out how to even live with this condition. The thought of trying to juggle the media on top of that felt overwhelming. the media attention was too much. I even left the country for a bit.â
You caught Katsukiâs eyes, your departure from the country was a still a major sore spot neither of you talked about, even though you both knew you couldnât ignore it forever. You swallowed hard, your voice trembling slightly. "Over time people moved on and I enjoyed being out of the spotlight. I just wanted peace to recover and find my new normal."
Silence once again fell over the room. Katsuki stared at you, stepping closer, his hand coming up to gently rest on the small of your back, his thumb brushing against you to soothe your nerves. He hated this. He hated that the world was pry back into the quiet, safe sanctuary he had built for you over the last year.
On the speakerphone, there was a sudden, sharp gasp from Kugisaki.
"Wait... hold on. Look at it from that angle." Her voice completely changed tone, shifting from frantic panic to sharp corporate calculation. "Why did Bakugo agree to the fake relationship with Uraraka in the first place? To pull the media away from his private life. Why did he need privacy? Because he was hiding his recovering savior, who is also his love!"
Miura sat up straight, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "Holy shit."
"Think about it," she continued, the words spilling out fast and fluid. "The girl who literally put Dynamight's heart back together when he died in the final war. She traced her future for his. She wants peace. She's disabled, she's traumatized, and she just wants peace. Bakugo is fiercely protective of her. He sees the paparazzi circling him, so he coordinates a fake romance with Uravityââ
âHis trusted friend!â Miura cut in.
âYes! To act as a massive lightning rod. It draws all the media cameras away from his true love, away from l/n, giving her the quiet environment she needs to heal."
Miura was already nodding aggressively, his fingers flying across his tablet. "And Uraraka looks like an absolute hero of a friend. She agrees to the fake romance to protect a disabled war veteranâs privacy, while simultaneously using the media circus to fundraise for her quirk counseling program! It hits every single emotional, tragic, and heroic beat perfectly."
"The public wouldn't just forgive you," Miura said, looking up at Katsuki with a manic grin. "They would practically worship you two. A fake relationship born out of pure, desperate loyalty to protect the woman who saved your life? It turns a cheating scandal into the greatest love story of the decade."
"It works," katsuki agreed. He wasn't looking at Miura. He was looking entirely at you, his thumb still rubbing your lower back. While he hated the media and paparazzi, his priority, was and always would be, your safety. "It protects you. It keeps the damn vultures from calling you a homewrecker, clears my name as a cheater and it keeps round race from looking like a victim."
He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "What do you think?â
You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, nodding slowly. "Yeah...like I said, just tell them the truth."
"Brilliant!" Miura clapped his hands together, snapping back into full blown command mode. "Kamo! Get in touch with our top three media outlets right now. Control the narrative before anyone else leaks anything. Hoshi! set up the press release drafts, and thenâ"
Miura turned a unyielding smile directly toward you. "âwe coordinate with you. To completely seal this and make it bulletproof, weâre going to need a joint, live-broadcast interview with Dynamight and H/N. The public will love it!"
Katsuki whipped his head around so fast it look like it hurt, subtly pulling you closer, before walking away.
"Are you fucking deaf?!" Katsuki stepped directly into Miura's personal space, his hands slamming onto the table. "Huh?! She JUST told you she doesnât want the spotlight! She doesn't need to be dragged in front of a bunch of flashing cameras and a hundred lying ass reporters!"
"Listen, it's the only way they'll believe it's genuineâ" Kugisaki tried to argue over the speaker.
"I don't give a damn what they believe!" Katsuki shouted. "She doesnât have to do it! If she doesnât want to. "
But as katsuki continued to yell, you stood there trapped, trying to process what he said.
The word interview bounced around the walls of your skull, echoing until it turned into a deafening roar.
A live broadcast. Cameras. Millions of people watching you, judging you, picking apart your expressions, all while you were being dragged out of hiding because of a toxic, messy cheating scandal. The sheer weight of it pressed down on your chest like a physical block of concrete. You wanted to throw up.
You could feel your heart rate climbing, a frantic, erratic drumming against your ribs.
Your breathing turned shallow, and a terrifyingly familiar tingling sensation in your lips and suddenly feeling light headed, the telltale sign of your nervous system misfiring under extreme stress. The boardroom began to tilt. Seeking an anchor, you reached out, your trembling hand brushing against katsukiâs shoulder.
"Katsuki..." you whispered, but the sound barely left your throat before your knees gave out.
"Huh-Y/NâŠHeyâ!"
Katsukiâs sharp, panicked shout was the last thing you heard. His reflexes caught you before you could hit the hard mahogany floor. He scooped you up, his heart hammering violently against his chest as he laid you down gently on the long leather sofa at the back of the boardroom.
Instantly, the room erupted into chaos.
"Oh my god, is she okay?!" Kamo, the assistant, shrieked.
Miura scrambled forward, his glasses slipping down his nose. "Call 119! What happened? Did sheâ"
"Get the fuck back!" Katsuki commanded, making Miura freeze mid-step. Katsuki stood over you like a feral, protective wall, as he glared at the staff trying to crowd around. He locked eyes with his panicked personal assistant, Sato, a young man clutching a tablet. "Sato! Get some ice and a cold towel. Now! The rest of you, clear out before I blast you through the goddamn walls!"
Nobody dared to argue when he looked ready to murder. Within ten seconds, the boardroom doors clicked shut, Sato quickly slipping back in to set a bag of ice and a cold cloth on the table before practically sprinting back out.
Katsuki placed the bag of ice on your chest and the cool cloth on your head. Helplessly watching your body struggle to regulate itself.
You werenât always like this. His mind unwillingly dragged him back to UA, to you running laps, laughing, using your quirk without a care in the world, living a normal, healthy life. You used to have boundless energy. You used to be untouchable.
And then the final war happened.
You had dragged him back from the edge of the afterlife, forcing your own quirk past its absolute breaking point to restart his heart. You saved him. And the cost of that miracle was paid out of your own nervous system, leaving you with a body that now misbehaved whenever it got too tired or too stressed, or even if you stood up too fast.
My fault, he thought, a heavy guilt dropping into his stomach. Every time this happens, itâs because of me. If I hadnât been weak, if I hadnât let myself get killed...
A soft shift in your breathing broke him out of his spiral. When your eyes slowly fluttered open, the harsh fluorescent lights of the boardroom nearly blinded you.
Then you saw Katsuki. He was kneeling on the floor right beside the couch, his large, calloused hand holding a cold cloth gently against your forehead. His face was closer than usual, his sharp features pinched with an intense, quiet worry that he rarely showed the rest of the world.
When he noticed you blinking up at him, he visibly relaxed and exhaled. His voice, dropped into a tone that was incredibly gentle, calm, and grounded.
"Hey," he murmured, his thumb lightly brushing against your cheek. "Stay still. Don't try to move yet."
You swallowed hard, your throat feeling incredibly dry as you looked at him. "I'm... I'm okay," you croaked out, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "Just... extremely overwhelmed. And, honestly... it probably didn't help that we had sex three times between last night and this morning and I didn't properly rest afterwards."
Katsuki stared at you for a second, completely caught off guard. Then, the corner of his mouth hitched. A genuine laugh broke through his chest, a rare, beautiful sound that instantly cut through the lingering tension in the room.
"You idiot," he chuckled, shaking his head as he carefully adjusted the cold cloth on your forehead. "It was like two and three fourths, we didn't even get to finish this morning."
That stupid arrogant smirk on his face brought a wave of comfort washing over you.
"Ugh, donât remind me," you mumbled, a small laugh finally escaping your lips.
"Suffer," he murmured softly. His hands found your waist, and with practiced, effortless care, he helped you guide your body up into a sitting position. Before you could even complain about the slight dizziness, Katsuki took a seat on the couch right next to you.
He gently pulled your upper body back down, guiding your head to rest directly on his thigh, letting you lie back down in a much more comfortable position. His fingers began to weave through your hair to soothe your nerves.
"Listen to me," Katsuki said, his voice turning serious again as he looked down at you. "We aren't doing the live interview. I don't give a shit what Miura or Kugisaki say. I'm not letting them drag you out there."
He paused, his hand hesitating in your hair for a split second before continuing. "I don't want you pushing yourself for me...again. I spent the last year making sure that youâre as comfortable as possible. Iâm not letting a bunch of parasitic reporters disrupt your peace. Unless you are okay with it.â
You listened to him, your mind spinning through the different scenarios, your fingers lightly tracing his hand. You loved him so much it ached. He was willing to let the whole world think the worst of him just to keep you safe in your quiet sanctuary.
But you didn't want him to carry the weight of a lie either.
"Katsuki?" you said quietly, breaking the silence.
"Yeah?"
"What if we compromise?" You shifted slightly, looking up at him. "What if... what if we take some like professional photos together? You know? show them weâre real. And instead of a live broadcast with a hundred screaming reporters, we do a private interview. Just us, Miura, and a single trusted journalist in a closed room. They publish an entire article on it along with the photos. But we should still look over it, and release it on our own terms. No flashing cameras, no surprise questions, and not on live TV like Miura and Uraraka's agents wanted."
Katsuki was quiet for a long moment, considering it, thinking it through. His eyes searched your face, checking for any sign of hesitation.
"If thatâs what you want," he finally said, his thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles. "It'll work because I'll make it work. If anyone objects, I'll blast their ass all the way to hell ."
He leaned down, removing your cold cloth and pressing a kiss against your forehead. Still a bit clumsy and awkward but to be fair it was only your second day of dating.
"Your happiness and your comfort are what matter most to me, y/n," he whispered against your skin, his grip on your hand tightening. "The rest of the world can burn for all I care. We do this your way, or we don't do it at all."
TAGSđ©”: @ghostinggecko @stereading @darhinadadragon @thel0v3hashira143 @lovehazelle @charityjoy22 @prettydivinegirl @tengensfavfourthwife @snoozebun @c0quin @nuo0n @atticuswastaken @takoyakitakii @womanloverxx @amayaaaxx @luvzbloomx @mruizsworld @lillyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @woonhaesan @priaspalac3 @ressya @supernerdycookietrashblrr @marcelineee-tvq @esisfdunkelundkalt @eyesforbkg @lenaketchum @wooyeouu @hireisy @nice-nice-dazey @rayleeya @mxchiii @sillyhyperpuppy @s-viore @reluctantlyfracturedsamurai @lemonlimelolly @lenaketchum @madam-ri @themultifandomgirl @meowieees @nightmarenyxx @indigoxfeelings-blog @that-b-word-lol @kristend512 @lost444ariess @nanuloveskatsuki @hanalysis @taterstots @foolishmortalindisguise @risemydearfriend @floravaine @kaeyaszluts @sarah-luz @sleepheadd0ve @deadlydollsstuff @qardasngan @rukinamukami @randar8 @cheshirekatty @pinkangelprint @baddiebsora @66avish @nerdydancer08

















