summary : your usually quiet journey home is jostled by rush hour in the subway, luckily you're not alone
pairing : thirdyear!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader
word count : 1k
cw : packed subway, little pushing and stumbling, fluff, subtly caring bakugo, for the plot there's no dorm so everyone go back to their home every night
a/n : I had this idea when I was in the subway being pushed left and right but unfortunately I was alone so I just took it
I have in my note app ideas of one shot and I have so many but I never actually write them but I wanna start being really productive so here's my first bakugo post!!
You hate taking the subway when it's rush hour. I mean what is there to like about it? People are stinky, everyone is pressed against each other and it's like you're ten times more tired than you would usually be after a school day.
Usually you would find the way back to school peaceful, taking a seat by the window and watching the buildings pass by.
But due to a schedule change you finished school during rush hour so now here you were waiting for the subway on a station packed with people all hoping to get on the next train.
Depending on the day and wether he stayed for extra training you would do the way home with Bakugo.
Your parents had decided to move to a bigger house at the end of the second year so you were now living a few blocks away from him.
In the beginning you would just be in the same train not talking to each other, you weren't really close with him, but as weeks passed you initiated small talk (which he wasn't always answering to) and even thought you weren't really spending much time together outside of the walk to school or back home you had found comfort in this routine you had established.
But if usually you could share a quiet discussion with him on the almost silent train, today you had found yourself pressed between the people clinging tightly to the bar hoping not to fall. You had lost Bakugo when the doors opened, taken away by the crowd trying to enter the wagon.
As you were focusing on staying upright, the subway came to a stop arriving at the next station. When the doors opened, people trying to come out were pushing you from every side and as small as you were trying to make yourself bags and elbows came smashing you from everywhere.
Suddenly you felt a strong arm sliding around your waist and a hand tugging at your wrist. Without having the time to understand what was happening you got pulled until you had your back against the opposite door.
"You looked like a rag doll over there", you heard a familiar gruff voice whisper next to your ear.
Looking up you found your face inches away from Bakugo's.
"Bakugo!" you jumped at his proximity (it's not like he had much choice, you thought), realizing his hand was still on you.
Looking down at his hand on your wrist you mumbled a thank you but he was already looking away.
The train then jostled, surprising you, as it left the station, making you lose your balance and gripping at the nearest thing to support you, which was.. Bakugo's chest.
"Sorry I-" you didn't get the chance to finish apologizing before you felt his hands on your waist again holding you against the door on your back. At your position you decided to let your hand grab on his school blazer. However, as time passed and you found yourself getting more and more tired, your eyelids and head growing heavier.
As you struggled to keep your eyes open you felt Bakugo's hand shift from your waist to the back of your neck and gently pushing your head to rest on his chest.
You tried pulling yourself back to tell him that he didn't have to bother but he kept his hand there and you felt his breath against your ear as he whispered :
"Just close your eyes idiot, I'll tell you when it's our stop"
So you did and despite your racing heart and hot cheeks you managed to fall into a half-sleep.
Then you felt a tap on your arm pulling you out of sleep and when you lifted your head Bakugo pointed at the line of all the stations showing that the next station was your stop.
You smiled at him sleepily and rubbed your eyes (I dream of a world where I can rub my eyes without smudging my makeup everywhere pls let me dream) preparing to finally exit the train.
When it came to a stop, his hand had grabbed your wrist again to prevent you from falling, you slipped your hand in his to not lose him again in the crowd of people moving. You felt his hand tense for a second, then relaxing and gently pulling at yours to guide you through the crowd.
You finally both got out of the station and were walking home in a comforting silence and throwing glances at him for you, thinking of his actions in the train. You were far from the short answer and frowning face of the first one sided conversation you had shared.
You lifted your head to look at the ash blond next to you, stopping in front of your house as you faced him while played with your hands.
"So.. I guess I'll see you tomorrow" you said awkwardly, feeling suddenly shy under his gaze.
He eyed you with a frown "Like every morning... what are you on about ??". At your silence he lifted his hand in goodbye and started walking when you suddenly called his name.
Before he got the chance to fully turn back to you, you mumbled a thank you before kissing his cheek and rushing inside of your house without even saying goodbye.
And while you were breathing hard against your door beating yourself up for the stunt you just pulled.
A certain boy was still standing in front of your house hand on his cheek, ears pinks and his heart beating faster than usual…
soo.. i don’t know if i like it. I wrote this at 2 in the morning and just finished it because I fell asleep writing about the reader falling asleep 😐
I hope you like it pls feel free to give feedback and send requests !
“Would you still love me if I couldn’t do this anymore” I questions, I can’t make eye contact. I can’t stare at the boy I love because I think if I look at him I might keep trying. Keep trying to be the hero I’ve wanted to be, “would it change how you see me? Because-“ I’m trapped in a hospital bed. Blankets covering my legs. Mangled and tangled in stitches and wraps. So mangled it might be a miracle if I can walk again. Let alone jump from building to building chasing someone.
“I think I will, but that doesn’t matter right now, because you’ll be fine. This is stupid you’re making such a big deal out of nothing” He grumbles slightly, head resting on his balled first as he leans against the chair. Elbow digging into the uncomfortable wooden arm, “she said you had a 20% chance of full recovery”
“80% chance I’ll never walk again, kats this isn’t some out of the blue ‘would you still love me if I was a worm’ type bullshit, this is real” I sit up slightly, mustering what courage I have left to look him in the eyes.
His eyes meet mine, and for a moment I hope for sympathy. I search and search for a glimpse of something to hold onto, of anything that looks like he might believe me, like he might look into the face of reality. But he’s avoidant. Again.
“Why won’t you see this? Why can’t you see this? There’s no coming back from an injury like this. Look at me.” I demand, he avoids me again, only staring into my undamaged face. But never at my body. He only stares at the lumpy blankets that cover me. It sets me off. I rip the starchy blankets off. Pale skin bruised red and black, deep gashes against my outer and a gap where my legs should meet. A large divot in the inside of my thigh. Stitched together. I make him stare at the gaps in my skin, “LOOK AT ME KATSUKI! LOOK WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME” I’m angry, devastated how I’ve given my life and body to a dream that would’ve never come true, “you should’ve left me there to die”
“Get over yourself” he scoffs, “none of us came out of this unscathed, Ms. Midnight died, she’s dead! I almost died, we all almost died. You’re not the only one who when through something, quit acting like you were” he sits up, crossing his arms over his chest. Defensive and aggressive, like he’s always been, “yeah your legs are fucked up, yeah you’ve got a 80% chance of never walking again but there’s still a chance” he softens, a silent whisper or plea leaves his voice, “you can still make it. You should try.. at least. Try”
I purse my lips together, I want to speak but I can’t, “you don’t know how it felt feeling you die. Feeling your heart stop beating, watching you shake and writhe in agony, I held you in my arms. As you died, that was me. And now you’re wishing I left you there? Like what? Like you’re worth nothing? You mean everything to me, you’re my everything” He confesses, this is as close to an ‘I love you’ I’ll get out of him. I don’t want to be mad at him, not after this.
“Would you still love me-“
“No. I wouldn’t love you. I don’t love quitters, there’s a reason I love you. Because you don’t quit, I’ll be dammed if I let you do it now” He shakes his head slightly. His eyes look over me now, over my hospital gown, until they land on my legs. Mangled and broken, torn and twisted.
“You didn’t let me finish” I repeat what I was originally saying, “even if I tried, if I did everything right and it didn’t work. You’d still like me at least?”
I watch him inhale, like he’s mulling over something so important. And maybe this is important, why should he build his life upon a cripple?
“Yeah, I’d still love you”
*hi I’m still alive I just have carpal tunnel:)
I’m trying to get more used to writing more descriptively and like angst n stuff so.. plz comment !!
a/n: i’m high and i can’t stop thinking about how i need a mido fic where he wants absolutely nothing to do with me like yesssssss force him to fall in love with me yessssss
Just rambling here might write something more indepth later but for now-
Loser bsf!Sero who does anything for you- there's a spider? He'll kill it! Something too high up? Don't worry he's got it! Hungry? His mama taught him how to cook! You just sit there and look pretty for him
Loser bsf!Sero who follows you around like a lost puppy dawg, so whiny and desperate for your attention. Just bat those long lashes at him and his knees will buckle as he aimlessly follows you around holding your phone, bag, keys and anything else you have!
Loser bsf!Sero who stares at your lips while you talk, he watches you put lip balm on and wonders how soft they are, how would it feel to touch them, while lost in thought he reaches his hand up, thumb swiping the crumb from the corner of your mouth
Loser bsf!Sero who is so blind to anyone and everyone else. No one else matters but you, your the only one in his world. He only cares about your opinion, immediately asking for your advice on big decisions, he needs your approval.
Katsuki's never been someone who's used or enjoyed pet names all too much, preferring the intimacy of saying someones first name instead of mushy shit like 'baby', 'honey', or 'darling'. It's just never really made sense to him, why say something like that when he can just use your name?
Surely the tone of his voice conveys any emotion he might need. Your name mixed with curses when you forget to turn off the lights at night, your name accompanied by the sound of his boots at the door when he's home, your name mixed with the sounds of sheets in bed.
and you've never cared or paid any attention if it, even though calling strangers 'honey' and 'sweetheart' rolls of your tongue so naturally Katsuki spent the first month of your relationship wondering how it's possible to hold so much love in your heart for people you don't even know. the way you seem to care about strangers, asking questions about their day, remembering the details and bringing it up the next time you see them; all accompanied by sickly sweet words of affection, casually woven in between well wishes and giggles. you promise to return to them, and they promise to be there waiting.
Katsuki looks at you, one of these times after you both leave the market late at night (he always insists on going with you, says it's too dangerous for you to go alone. you always try to tell him you've been fine all these times before, but never fight his insistence too hard), takes in your body that glows gold under the streetlights, your tote bag full of things you bought (flowers, since the ones on the dining room table are starting to wilt. an eggplant for the Thai curry you've been meaning to make — though when you get home you'll see the lemongrass you've bought is bad and you'll have to make another trip, not that you or Katsuki mind. Green onions, chives, fresh thyme. Soft white bread lays on top of it all, and you're careful not to crush it under your arm.), and the way you mindlessly talk about your day. The cat you passed on the street, the stranger you regularly make conversation with at the bus stop. Your coworkers personal drama you can't help but be invested in — despite claims that you're not.
When he goes to bed with you that night, his keys in the same dish as yours ( a little ceramic one that sits on the table by the door. it's shaped like a sardine can. you giggled the whole way home after you bought it), his boots next to your flats — his are neat, sitting up right and yours are haphazardly thrown next to his. He'll fix them in the morning before he leaves— you'll wrap your arms around his middle, burying your face between his shoulder blades in an attempt to steal his warmth. You'll mutter something about your day, follow it up with 'good night, my love.' and something about it, will have his heart grow 4 sizes in his chest.
My love, my love, my love
He'll hold onto it the next day, and the one after that. let it settle into his mouth like honey before he starts whispering it to you when he thinks you're not listening. My love, my love, my love, the words seep into the air between you both and permeate the space. Chopsticks passed to you before dinner, handing off the remote so you can put on YouTube videos (make up tutorials, obviously. katsuki pretends he's not interested while he makes mental notes at the products that elicit a gasp from you) all followed up with those two words.
He looks at you, bundled on the couch, thinks of all the beautiful things he sees and the way that all reflects in the beauty of you.
your smaus are so fun!! could you do a MHA SMAU where you promise to post pictures of them in your IG to solidify publicly that he’s your BF, but you only post cheeky and sneaky pictures like his back, his hand and stuff like that (making it hard to tell who is it) and them getting irritated or amused by it (or they just don’t give a f)
and could you please include kiri and shinshou, thank youuuuu
a handful of shared moments between you and your maybe more than friend, touya todoroki, the flame villain.
this is a prequel to the first fic i posted, pheonix, but it could be read as a standalone !
wc: 2.8k
reader is not described but is implied to have a quirk that makes them colder. i also imply that they're a nurse who frequently works with burn patients, including dabi's victims.
cw: 18+ ONLY !!! no smut, just kissing, grinding, and shirts come off but it ends pretty quickly after that. dabi accidentally wounds reader (a small burn from trying to wake him from a nightmare), mentions of abuse, murder, dying, and nausea. soft yet emotionally stunted and avoidant dabi
playlist: maybe by flower face, zombie by everglow, voidstar and longlegs by grim salvo
He’s shaking, head in your lap. You think he might be crying, but his hands are covering his face as he curls up as tight as he can. Dabi didn’t usually spend the night, but on rare occasion you can wrangle him into sleeping a few hours before running off who knows where. Tonight had been fun, daresay cozy, watching bad movies under a blanket so you could use him as a space heater and he could use you as an icepack.
It’s near four in the morning, far past when he usually sneaks out of your tiny apartment, when you awoke to his distress. He’d been squirming on his side of your too-small bed, mumbling and whimpering unconsciously. Even now, you don’t think he’s realized the small burn on your arm from trying to wake him, but you don’t move to soothe it; you’re too busy trying to soothe him. You rub his side over his shirt and pet a hand through his spiky hair even though he’s long since stopped shaking. You pretend you don’t care you have work in a few hours.
Now, he’s completely motionless, arms fallen to the cushion of the mattress. His voice is raspier than normal when he finally speaks, “…Sorry about that.”
“’S okay. I’ve seen worse.”
You both know he’s caused your ‘worse’.
“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on up here?” You tap your fingers softly against his temple. It’s a miracle he hasn’t moved yet.
“You can tell me anyways,” you can practically hear him go over the notion in his head. You met almost a year and you hardly know anything about the man besides his preferred snacks and the types of movies he likes to make fun of.
He thinks for a bit before stating, “you’ve never asked about my scars.”
You hum in agreement. The healed tissue is naturally textured but worsened from insufficient aftercare. The skin grafts look like they were done by someone with medical experience, at least. “Were you dreaming about when you got them?” The scar tissue on his face always made it look like the flames had tried to take him in its hands; like it wanted to soothe him. Console him. You want to do the same.
“Kinda,” he says after another long pause, like he’s trying to find the words, “maybe more like ‘why’.”
He can’t see you frown at that. You don’t like the implication it carries.
He’s quiet for a long time while you brush through his hair. It’s gotten longer- you think you can see blonde roots peak through the inky black.
“My old man…real shit guy,” he takes in a shaky breath and subtly curls deeper into your lap, “I’m gonna kill him one day.”
(You didn’t think he was serious, then.)
“All he cares about is power. He bought my ma so he could create a child more powerful than him. I’m the oldest of four- and his biggest failure,” you wince at the way he chuckles, “It’s funny. He got what he wanted. My youngest brother is a prodigy. He’s one of the top students at U.A.,” Dabi stops again, like he has to prepare himself for what he’s about to say, “I hated that kid for so long. Tried to kill him when he was a toddler, wanted to prove I was better than him. When I was twelve or thirteen I told dear old dad I got stronger,” another pause “He didn’t care,” another pause, like he’s debating telling you the rest at all, “I burned down half a forest, woke up three years later. The fucker who fixed me up showed me pictures of my funeral and everything. Ma got institutionalized not long after…but I gave myself a new name, since I died that day.”
“What was his name?” You ask impulsively. You wish you could take those words back, stuff them in your mouth and swallow them down
“Who’s?” He looks up.
“The boy who died.”
Dabi looks away again, contemplates before relenting, “Touya. Touya Todoroki”
“Touya sounds like a sweet kid. I hope he’s resting easy.”
It’s like the words flipped a switch in him. He shoots to sit up straight. His eyes are angry. Scared.
“You don’t know shit about him.”
“That’s not the point.”
He gets up, paces the length of the bed a few times, stops, looks at the ground, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know shit about me.”
“And whose fault is that?” You really need to learn when to shut your stupid mouth.
He looks up. Sees you fully for the first time since waking. He can see the welt he caused on your arm in his post-nightmare panic. His anger dies. His eyes widen. You reach to slap your hand over it to shield it from view, but he has his jeans on and his jacket and boots in hand before you can find words to say. He’s out the door before you can ask him not to leave.
(You call out of work that day. You won’t hear from him for three weeks.)
Later that day, the search results for Touya Todoroki hurt as bad as you expected them to. There aren’t many paparazzi pictures of him, only a handful of him with his dad at award ceremonies.
His dad. Pro hero Endeavor.
The news coverage of his son’s death is minimal, and it’s mostly about Endeavor taking a leave of absence from hero duties to grieve with his family, but the obituary is public. The white haired boy in the picture looks so young. It’s not very detailed aside from denoting that his funeral was a private ceremony.
You open a new tab and search for fire related quirk malfunctions or natural disasters from around the same time. Its not hard to narrow down that the forest fire that destroyed Sekoto Peak was Dabi’s doing. The flames had been massive and unnaturally hot, nearly impossible to contain. There was barely anything left besides charred bone fragments from wildlife and the partial jawbone of the only human casualty they could find. The victim is unnamed, but it says the police were able to identify them through dental records and bring closure to the family.
There’s a handful of pictures of Endeavor at the scene. They make your stomach churn.
A third tab. Endeavor. There are news articles about his most recent achievements and a few about his youngest son, Shoto, who recently passed the entrance exams into U.A., just like Dabi said.
You feel nauseous.
It’s so comfy laying here wrapped around him like a koala. He’s cold and hot at the same time. There’s one hand cradling the back of your head to his chest while the other rubs your back over the blanket he draped over you.
You don’t usually let him in when work gets you like this. He’s usually the cause, being the most prolific fire quirked villain in the country, but you felt like you needed him today. A little boy had come in with his parents after his first quirk manifestation. All you could see was a young Touya Todoroki when you looked at him. Now all you feel is the pain you feel for the real thing who has you cradled in his arms like you’re more than maybe a friend.
Dabi is prickly when it comes to touch- despite the nerve damage, his scars are sensitive- but for you, he makes exceptions, especially since this is his first time seeing you since his meltdown last month. When he woke up in his dingy-ass apartment today, he knew he had to see you, knew something was wrong. His gut was right. You practically collapsed crying in his arms when you opened the door.
You’ve barely said anything since he’s settled the two of you down on your bed. Every time he thinks about saying something, you burrow impossibly closer into his chest like if you try hard enough you can crawl in his ribs and clean out all the ash and soot that make him up.
He wants to apologize for how he left. He wants to tell you he was scared, that he’s still scared, because he’s never let anyone get close the way you have, and he doesn’t know why he yearns for you to be closer. It’s the only time he ever wishes things had gone differently. If he was closer to a normal guy, less of one of the most wanted villains in the country, maybe he’d let himself be happy to be known by you.
But the only thing Dabi can do is destroy. He burns too hot to be anyone’s light.
Dabi is ruthless. He’s a monster, a villain, a killer; there’s nothing that could clean the blood from his hands.
That doesn’t stop him from pretending things are different, even if just for a moment. You’re naturally cooler to the touch and he finds it hard to imagine ever choosing to be anywhere but in your arms. It’s such an unfamiliar feeling.
Dabi’s never had to comfort someone before. He’s never really wanted to, either.
He isn’t one to be soft or kind or comforting. It’s all so confusing. How do you drag this out of him? Why is he so content with this moment? Something about you makes him different. He doesn’t know what to do with that.
He’s scared. He’s angry. He’s unhappy.
You pull yourself away from him completely, scooting to lay on your back on the other side of your bed.
“Sorry,” you mumble, “you can go now. That was probably really uncomfortable for you. You can leave now, if you want.”
Your eyes are so empty. He’s never seen you like this. He doesn’t know what to do. He thinks he wants to stay, make his last visit up to you with more time tonight, but would you rather he go? Should he ask about what upset you? This is so new to him.
He leaves.
The next time he’s over, you pretend to not notice the tension in the air. You move around in your usual sync, gathering snacks and scrolling through the worst rated movies you can find. You feign obliviousness to the way his eyes linger on you for longer than usual and curl up on the opposite side of the choice from him, like the months of slowly shifting closer to each other didn’t happen.
The jokes are bored and the laughs are empty.
He doesn’t spend the night. You don’t ask him to. He doesn’t know why he feels so hollowed out when he leaves.
A few weeks later, after watching movies and ignoring elephants in rooms, you fall asleep. Dabi waits, lets whatever’s playing continue to run while he watches you breathe in and out at a steady rhythm.
The credits roll. He turns off the T.V. and welcomes the darkness lit only by the city as he gets up to lay you down on your little couch. He’s never done this for you before- he doesn’t know why he’s doing it now. Your eyes flutter open as he kisses your forehead and tucks you into your blanket you keep out here.
(He did it without thinking, like it was natural, a habit. He was a big brother, once. He hadn’t realized that part of him survived.)
You look up at him as he stares down at you, eyebrows furrowed at his surprised expression. His eyes flicker to your lips without his permission. He’s already leaning over you, it’d be so easy to crawl on top of you, kiss you, wherever and however you want.
He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it. Maybe it’s Himiko’s insistence he grow up and take the risk, maybe it’s a moment of weakness where he allows himself to forget who and what he is, but he’s pressing a soft kiss to your lips without realizing. The contact makes your head jerk back, eyes wide in shock, surprise, wonder. You look at him like there’s something worthy of being looked at. His mouth moves to apologize, but you’re shooting your hands to hold his scarred cheeks and pressing you lips to his before he can try. Your skin is so cold against his had surprised at the lack of steam. He thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
He doesn’t reciprocate in his shock. His response is even further delayed by the fact that he’s never done this before. He feels like a teenager- or what he imagines what being a teenager under more normal circumstances would allow him. As you move to pull away, afraid you’ve somehow overstepped, Dabi is snapped out of his shock, and he’s pulling you back in. His kiss is messy, wet, spit slick as his tongue licks into your mouth with no hesitation. The taste of his urgency is unexpected but he feels so incredible you can hardly stand it. You revel in the way his dull nails bite into your skin when you whimper at the sensation.
His hands are heavy as they make their way down your body, nearly pushing like he needs a constant reminder that this is real. Before you know it, he’s on the couch, on top of you, pushing at your shirt and you’re pulling it over your head in compliance. Dabi takes the moment to yank off his own; his torso is a marble of normal and scarred skin with a shiny barbell through each nipple. You wonder briefly if the metal is hot like the rest of his skin as his lips crash back into yours. One hand in your hair, the other on your waist- he’s pushing you down, pulling you in, until he's all but crushing you in his desperation.
You moan when he lets up, “Dabi-“
“No, no- don’t call me that. I don’t want to feel like a villain with you,” he’s equally breathless, practically heaving above you.
“…Touya?”
Your uncertainty is immediately discarded when he fully moans at the sound of his given name on your lips, “yes, yes, thank you-“ and he’s kissing you again, cradling your face like you’re porcelain but grinding down like you’re the farthest thing from fragile.
His grip tightens when the pressure of his hips makes you moan.
The weight of his body makes you dizzy. His lips and hands move down your neck, licking, biting, and sucking at all the skin newly exposed to him and it feels so good you don’t now what to do with yourself. You decide on shoving your hands in his hair; you’re pulling it at the root when he bites down next, and he’s moaning into your throat like it might kill him to be quiet.
What does he want from me? The question crashes through your brain like a bullet. You don’t know if you want to actually ask. Would it be so bad to let this happen, just to have him close like this? Is the burden of wanting from afar easier to carry than having him halfway? Yes. Of course it is.
Your sudden unresponsiveness stills him. He pulls away to find your eyes distant and face neutral.
“Touya?” You ask after a silent minute filled with his thumbs rubbing circles in your waist, “what did that mean? To you, for us?”
He gulps, “I don’t know.”
He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He hadn’t thought at all.
“You don’t know,” you echo.
He’s off you before you can decide what to make of his answer.
“Sorry, don’t know why I did that- sorry,” you think you hear as he fumbles around for his coat and his boots. You don’t say anything. You don’t even look at him. Instead, you focus on the ceiling it’s almost too dark to see. You think you hear him pause at your door, but your head is so loud and intelligible you aren’t paying attention.
The static doesn’t block out the sound of your front door shutting, though.
(Neither of you realize he left his shirt behind until after he’s already out the door. You pretend you resist the urge to cuddle it to catch his scent on it, and he will pretend he doesn’t imagine you doing just that.)
Ever the coward, Touya runs. He throws up his shame once he’s in his own apartment. He knows he shouldn’t have left. He didn’t want to- but he didn’t know how to stay either.
He hates himself more than he has in a long time for tonight.
His burner buzzes in his pocket. It’s Shigaraki. plans in motion.
He doesn’t think you’ll forgive him for doing this, but it’s been building since before he met you. It’s not like he has any sort of life or future to look forward to anyways. It’s not like he gives you much to miss anyways.
Soon. Endeavor’s head. Soon.
dividers by @/issysh3ll and @/thecutestgrotto
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Katsuki is the type to sing love songs under his breath while cooking you breakfast. Hair messy and no tshirt on, just him, his headphones and your clingy ass wrapping your hands around him from behind.
Occasionally he shifts one headphone to the side, tilting his head to glance at you from over his shoulder. It's either to check if you're still awake or to ask about your breakfast.
"You want your eggs scrambled t'day or sunny side up?"
"Suprise me" you mumble sleepily against his back, whinining when he shuffles towards the fridge.
He huffs in amusement, and a smug smirk tugs it's way onto his lips. "Told you to stay in bed"
"And I told you It's cold-" you pout, before trailing your fingertips over the soft textured skin of his scars "And you're the warmest thing in this house right now, and your singing is so soothing"
You're cute, so dangerously cute that he can't help but shy away from the flutter of his heart after your comment and gentle tuch. However he plays it cool by clearing his throat and shifting his focus back onto the task at hand.
You tighten your arms around him, and your cheek smooches quite comedically against."What song are you singing?" The comfort of his broad and warm back putting you into a comfortable daze.
"Die with a smile by uh- Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga"
You hum with acknowledgement, and he continues to dish up breakfast with you attached to his back like a koala. Occasionaly he'll place bits of food up to your lips and you'll accept them eagerly and hum in delight.
As his song gets to the best part he can't help but turn around suddenly, his firm touch on your hip as his other hand finds the warmth of your palm, and he slips his fingertips past yours, steadily intertwining your hands.
Your head finds comfort on his warm chest and you can feel every harsh thump of his heart while he sways with you side to side. He pushes his embarrassment and shyness to the side, wanting nothing more than spending the early morning with you before you would have to go.
"I'd wanna hold you~" he sing, just below a and his raspy voice reverberates through his chest and against your ear. "Just for a while~"
"And dieee with a smile"
"If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you~"
Ahhh I do NOT know what this is other than depressed af Bakugo, who is trying to be a good boyfriend with a hint of fluff
It starts as something as innocent as forgetting to fold your laundry after a hard day of work. Although he never does that, he's too meticulous about the house chores even after a 12 hour shift. You don't yell at him and he doesn't yell at you. He has ordered take out before even getting home and he eats in silence, after offering you some of his pizza and you decline, hurt that the portion of food that you made for him will go to waste. He doesn't say anything else for the remaining twenty minutes he remains awake and you end up folding the laundry.
By the time you go to the bedroom he's fast asleep, blond hair covering his forehead and mouth open enough so he can breathe through it. you notice the band aid on his nose; another wound he didn't bother telling you about.
It's a silent, muffled goodnight that puts you to sleep and not his arms around your waist but it's okay, you’ve been more than used to it.
When apathy isn't something that's enjoyable or even barely tolerable when you're in a relationship, you overlook it.
You think of him more often than you see him and you see him all the time.
He delivers flowers to your workplace as an atonement for giving you the cold shoulder last night with a note.
‘Sorry for being so grumpy lately, date tonight at 8?’
Your coworkers definitely enthuse about it and you grin like a schoolgirl. You think that even if you get off at six and you barely have enough time to get ready you can make it. So you text him, frenzied and insanely happy that you can make it and he snaps a picture of him drinking his smoothie while sitting on a railing of a building. Then he tells you where you're going for the night so you can be there as he'd be coming right after work.
Or at least he was supposed to.
So what? He doesn't show up on a date. Katsuki's a pro hero, in the top five, too, so you can forgive that one time, despite having to endure the looks of pity from the waiters at the restaurant he has booked, and despite paying the minimum order fee all by yourself. All while downing a bottle of wine, dressed in your best clothes, make up done so nicely, in such little time too.
You try not to cry, at least not in front of anyone, because it's one time and it's okay that he didn't even bother to cancel on you, he for sure must have been busy!
But you don't find it in you to plan another date anytime soon, and you don't allow him to mention whatever happened that night when he gets home to you. He’s battered, he’s bloody and behind red eyes there's that sorry expression of a dog that’s trashed the whole roll of toilet paper.
You dont yell, you don't fight. He runs a bath for himself and you wash his hair.
Though, you'd love to actually at least leave a sassy remark on what he did, you're scared that his response won't be up to your standards or liking and hurting yourself like this -yes, begging for an explanation to the happening is begging- is not something you plan on doing.
Until it happens again.
This time, it's worse, because he's supposed to meet you and your friends at the cinema, on a day patrol shouldn't take too long to end. On a day there's no new article about a monstrous villain destroying the city. And yes, you do refresh the news section on your phone every second, with the way he's been getting so beaten up on the daily.
But this time, it's okay, because he lets you know beforehand.
10 minutes beforehand.
Through text.
And even if it infuriates your friends, you can live with it. It's fine, you tell yourself and your friends. It doesn't usually happen, and he actually made an effort to let you know so you don't have to wait on him.
It's more than understandable, you tell your friends, because your boyfriend (if you could call him that still) is a pro hero, and you, nothing but a civilian. His lifestyle is far more important than yours. Which, you actually find funny in the moment, now that everyone's staring at you.
But your friends do not find it funny, actually. They don't lecture you yet, if they did, you'd burst in tears, and you enjoy the movie as much as you can in their company and rheir company alone.
They're all you have, at the end of the day.
Katsuki doest really have an everyday life as a civilian. And while striving to become number one he's overworking himself
There's also the time he shows up to your friend's art gallery opening with his hero costume -broken left gauntlet and grease and mud all over his hair and face- because 1) you've lectured him about never showing up and the impression he's left on your friends and 2) he really is trying to make an effort and well 3)he doesn't really care about an amazing public image.
Your friends hate him.
You don't.
The annual hero ratings come around the corner and he's fallen one place on the chart. The two of you spend that night at his parents’ and some subtle comments that youre not sure from whom it is worded sparks a fight with his mother, she tells him to not visit her again if he doesn't fix his attitude. They end up fighting over the phone every single day.
He gets worse after, always towards himself, as if he's done all the bad in the world. He spends most of his day on patrol and in the gym, but he doest bulk anymore. He’s more than okay with you making him lunch for work, he’s not mindful of any of his habits for a while.
Every single day that passes he’s more unhappy. Every day is worse than the other.
You continue to wash his hair and do the laundry on days he comes home bleeding and you don't get mad when he just wants to stuff his face in pizza. You go to bed with him and never let him sleep alone.
“you're s’nice to me when you don't have to” he mutters as you're stroking his hair away from his forehead. Not one of you is focusing on the movie that's playing. He;s sprawled like a cat on your chest, breathing from his mouth like that night.
“Its just cause i want to”
“m sorry i stood you up on that date”
“no need to talk about it” you reassure him. And its like he gets mad when you place a kiss on his exposed forehead. Brows furrowed, eyes half lid in exhaustion.
You pay him no mind, averting your eyes to the screen on your right He’s been so frustrated, you just know he's going to want to pick a fight
“dumbass. you should have dumped me.”
“You want me to dump you?”
He shakes his head in your chest as a response, hands wrap even tighter around your waist.
“Stop saying dumb shit then okay? and stop thinking you don't deserve to be happy because life is shitty right now. You're the one who told me. Remember?”
At that he hugs you impossibly close. Pebbled chest pressing on your stomach as he wiggles his hands to wrap your feet around his waist. Your hoodie is lifted, just above your belly so he can plant a kiss on your skin and slanted red eyes look into yours again, this time more determined.
He knows how life has been for you. Things keep happening to you one after another and he's been there to witness it. To hold you. Your relationship with your own mother is only a little worse than his own and now, for the first time he actually understands how it's like to have someone hold him through all that he's been going through.
No one can understand him better than you do, no one can love him better than you do.
There's an end to his restless nights, as you're spending them wrapped in his arms, face squished between his pectoral muscles. And now it doesn't matter if you sleep for two, five or eight or twelve hours. You're always rested. He’s not grumpy in the morning. Your migraines are gone. His muscles aren't sore anymore.
Katsuki never had a civilian life, but when he comes home to you it's the closest he can get to one.
yall i kinda dont care what you gotta say on this one cus its real to me but katsuki is lowkey a crybaby. i fully believe he cries extremely easy,, like..HAVE YOU SEEN HIM ??? do you see how quickly bothered and emotional he gets over stuff ? no,not angry—bothered and emotional. (but the angry part also works lowkey i like to think in certain situations he gets so angry he cries.)
so yeah every time you argue—wether it’s over the phone n he hangs up on you or in person and he storms off to get away from you. he’s just so mad at you, he’s angry so so angry but he doesn’t like fighting with you. he’s in the right, he’s sure he is.. but a minuscule little part of him sorta wishes he wasn’t so this fight never happened. and also, don’t tell anyone, but he’s also pretty fucking worried you’ll leave him.
oh and there they are, he feels little tears prick at his lash line, practically clawing at his face the moment he feels them coming. he sniffles loudly nose already clogged and he scowls so hard, eyebrows pinched harder like that’ll make them go away.
he’s angry, so angry. he tries to convince himself he’s fuming just so he can stop crying.
—and he cries anyway. it’s nothing too dramatic, no sobs. only a hiccup manages to pass through his lips and he’s heaving and sniffling hard, wiping at his eyes and nose.
he hates the gloomy weather, the talk of halloween, the hassle of wearing excessive layers. it's all such a bother to him. you on the other hand, loved everything he hated about the season. you have him up late into the evening (way past his bedtime) baking halloween themed cookies. soft music from the fall playlist you guys made together travels throughout the house. sleeves of matching snoopy sweaters are rolled up and covered with your pretty pink aprons.
you stir the cookie dough with bakugou standing behind you, groaning about your alleged lack of coordination and terrible technique. “ya’ gotta put your elbows into it, dumbass.” his large hand envelops yours as he guides your stirring. hello kitty face masks are on and decorated cookies are plated when bakugou dares to utter the words “never seen it” when you mention watching coraline. not even halfway through the film, you’re sound asleep on his lap with his hand soothing the hairs in your face back. nights like these are the ones bakugou silently mourns once they pass.
Bakugou blows it and accidentally confesses he likes you because he noticed you weren’t as touchy with him as you were with the others in the friend group.
You’d blinked in confusion when he’d cornered you one day at a hang out. A simple fun movie night, whole gang was there, you’d gotten up to get a drink. Bakugou stopped you in the hallway with a huffy “Hey.”
Now listen, you are not an idiot ok? You know damn well this man has a thing for you. The reason you aren’t as touchy with him is because you simply noticed, the man doesn’t like to be touched. It’s not rocket science, he literally says “Get your hands off of me,” anytime someone touches him. The others just…ignore it, and you’d always chalked that up to them all growing up together.
You’re the newbie in the friend group, and Bakugou is not one you wanna get on his bad side. So yeah you kept your distance, but not like exclusively. You high five him, stand next to him, or gently lean into him when you inevitably start to tumble over for no apparent reason. Hell you’ve even given him hugs! And they weren’t awkward! Just normal hugs!
So this is why his “What’s your problem with me? I stink or somethin’?”catches you a little off guard.
“Bakugou, what the hell are you talking about?”
It’s crass but you know he’ll appreciate it, especially since you can visibly see how frustrated he is. It kinda worries you a bit, but you leave the air casual and a little sassy, something he’s comfortable in.
He huffs again, as if you should already know. “Every time we have one of these damn movie nights you find a little place on the couch. And I know your favorite fucking spot on the couch, so I try to sit down next to it… and you…go somewhere else…”
Oh.
And that’s when it hits you. Because he’s right. You do have a favorite spot on the couch, and you had noticed the past two times you all had movie nights, Bakugou was there. You saw him, and sat somewhere else, not wanting to lie and drape yourself over him like you usually did when Mina was there.
Almost instantly you take a step toward him and place your hand gently on his arm. You can feel him hold his breath when he looks down at your hand and his eyes shoot up to meet yours.
“I’m sorry Katsuki. You don’t stink and I don’t have a problem with you. I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I stretch out and lay all over Mina when she’s there and I didn’t want you to think I was going to do it to you too…” you trail off, letting your eyes fall to the floor.
“I think…I think I was so busy trying to make sure I didn’t upset you doing all the things you scream at the others for that I didn’t even realize…you never screamed at me or told me to stop. So…I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t want to sit next to you when…truthfully it was what I wanted.”
Bakugou stammers, “Wait…are you sayin’? That you wanted to sit next to me and…like lay on me and crap?”
You smile at him then, and take his hand that yes is quite sweaty and that you see him panic about when you take it. But still you take his hand and guide him into the kitchen with you. As the two of you walk you say over your shoulder,
“Yes. I’m saying I like you very much Katsuki, and I want to sit next to you the rest of the movie. And also you don’t stink.”
He chuckles then, hiding his very obvious relieving sigh beneath it.
“Thanks,” he mutters and you feel him squeeze your hand lightly.
i’m just thinkin about touch starved bakugo. he's rejected any and all forms of affection towards him, absolutely hating the feeling of anyone unnecessarily touching him.
he doesn't know how he's turned into such a sap now for you. it seems like he can't not touch you. it doesn't matter. it can just be him bumping his knee against yours under the table during class or keeping a hand on your back when walking through the crowded halls- he actually likes touching you. however, he didn't think he'd enjoy you touching him - boy was he wrong.
whenever you're rubbing the muscles in his back after a hard day's worth of training - he's groaning and leaning into your touch - which is something like an anchor, grabbing hold of katsuki and pulling him deeper and deeper until he realizes it's love that makes him crave your touch so much.
baby shoto says you look cute today😘 @shoutoismybaby - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
