bkg and trick or treating (if u dont do bkg im gonna ask for iwa.. <3)
this got longer than it was supposed to be but that's ok because dad!bakugou <33
"katsuki, don't forget to get your costume ready."
"'m not wearing a costume."
you narrow your eyes at him, tilting your head when he refuses to meet your gaze.
"we agreed yesterday that you'd wear a costume when you go trick or treating with our son, did we not?"
"no, you agreed, i didn't say shi—nothin' about that," he gruffly responds, his arms folded as he stares resolutely at the tv, pretending to take in some program talking about how deers mate.
"really now." your voice is flat and unimpressed, and for a moment, he thinks maybe he should shut up. you've been a bit stressed with preparing for halloween night, and your temper is a little shorter as a result.
but then he thinks about the absolute atrocity waiting for him in the back of his closet, and stubbornly opens his mouth again.
"why do i need to wear a costume, anyway? 'm not a damn kid."
he stills at the heavy sigh you let out as you take slow steps towards him. stopping behind him on the couch, you place your hands on his shoulders and lean down, ignoring the way he tenses ever so slightly.
"you're going to wear a costume," you begin with an awfully sweet voice, "because your son wants to match with you when he goes trick or treating, and we'll both be very sad if you don't."
he doesn't miss the tone in your voice, and he mentally grumbles at how utterly stupid this whole thing is; why the hell did he ever think letting his son dress up as him was a good idea, that's so fucking corny, and damn you for being so—
"katsuki."
"what."
"stop bitching at me in your head."
"how the hell—" he whips around incredulously, only to pause when he sees you raising your eyebrow. he scoffs and rolls his eyes, turning back around and grousing as he relaxes into your hold. "—screw you. i wasn't bitching at you. and that's two dollars in the swear jar."
"so you're gonna wear the costume?" you ignore him, tilting his head back and grinning when he sighs and pushes your face away, muttering complaints you choose to ignore under his breath.
"—wear the stupid damn thing. whatever."
"i'm gonna blow your face off."
you cough to cover up the laugh you couldn't hold in, pursing your lips as you try your damned hardest not to burst into hysterics at the sight of your husband.
"y'know," you begin, voice unsteady with barely restrained joy, "green is really your colour."
"i swear to fuckin'—"
"dad!"
you whip around to see a bundle of blond, orange and black run towards you, zooming between your legs and colliding into katsuki with an oof.
"look, we're matching!" your son exclaims, waving his gauntlet decorated hands around to catch your attention, "we're the number one and two heroes!"
"you are, aren't you," you grin, voice dripping in absolute glee when your husband glowers at you pulling out your phone, "look at my boys go."
"we're leaving," he abruptly announces, picking your kid up and placing him in his arms. you let a burst of laughter out when you see him hurriedly turning to go, your legs speedily making your way towards him.
"no, wait!" you quickly block the front door, "we have to take a photo for memories!"
"the hell we do," he gripes, "move."
"yes, papa, we need to take a picture," your son joins you, nodding his head and turning his big eyes to your husband, "like we always do!"
"one year won't make a difference."
"yes, it will," the kid protests, frowning in a way that's so much like katsuki it makes your heart momentarily melt, "it's, um, tera—terdi—tershon—"
"tradition, baby," you gently help him, smiling softly when he lights up.
"yeah, that! which means we can't skip it!"
you both look imploringly at the blond man, identical pouts and wide eyes on your faces as you slowly break down whatever weak resolve your husband had.
he scowls heatedly at you, clenching his jaw and undoubtedly cursing you out in his head. it lasts for approximately two minutes and thirty eight seconds (twenty five seconds more than usual), before heaving an annoyed sigh that lets you know you've won.
"yes!" you and your son cheer, and you hurriedly click on the camera app as katsuki grouches under his breath.
"hate those damn eyes," he mutters, before locking a stern gaze on you, "only one photo. and if you send it to anyone i'll blow that thing up."
"uh huh," you absentmindedly sound, trying to find a good angle with good lighting, before calling out, "okay, get ready. smile!"
(the picture comes out wonderfully, with your husband scowling as per usual and his mini counterpart glowing happily. it gets sent to the UA alumni groupchat, and katsuki nearly blows a fuse when kaminari suggests a switch of hair colours next time as well.
in a perfect world, kirishima would wake up next to you in the mornings. he would huddle closer to your warmth and wrap a strong arm around your middle, instead of lying on his back with frigid, restless fingers. he would gently nudge his nose into your cheek, lay kisses down your neck and smile sleepily against the skin when you mumble his name out. he'd quietly greet you with good morning baby, and you’d murmur it back just as lovingly, and he'd instinctually know the day would be a good one because there is nothing that could ruin the beauty in this moment with you. he wouldn’t gaze at you with eyes that crave too much of what they believe they can’t have, or roll onto his side and squeeze his eyes shut until stars twinkle in the artificial darkness. he wouldn’t rise from the bed alone.
in a perfect world, kirishima would take you to all of his niche comfort spots. he’d bring you to the lonely abandoned park he used to frequent in middle school when he wanted to clear his head of all the thoughts that rattled around in it. he’d gently curl his fingers between your own and bare bits of himself to you. he’d try his best to answer your questions instead of diverting the topic or giving barren answers. he’d force a crack in the mask he wears for everyone else and show you the real face beneath it.
in a perfect world, kirishima would shower with you and allow only steam and laughter to collect between your lips. there wouldn’t be frozen silences bearing all the hurt festering in your hearts, all the obscenities you’ve screamed at each other and all the regrets you haven’t expressed. he would cuddle on the couch with you instead of sitting on the opposite end, wipe away the crumbs at the corner of your mouth instead of wordlessly handing you a tissue. he wouldn’t sit in his apartment with empty bottles next to him, obsessing over the wires of insecurity pulling taut around his heart, preventing him from realizing the desires sitting tangibly in his tongue. he would be strong enough to believe in his own goodness and offer it to you on devoted palms.
in a perfect world, kirishima would have the courage to love you selfishly.
"no, we're just—" akaashi cuts you off, throwing you a short look before going back to glaring at the map in his hands, "we're not lost."
you bite down on the smile threatening to take over your lips, breathing a silent laugh through your nose and coughing when your lover gives you another short look.
"okay, baby," you nod, "whatever you say."
the next few minutes are spent in silence as akaashi tries his damned hardest to make sense of the convoluted guide in his hands and figure out where the hell they are—because they might be, just a tiny bit, lost. not that he'd ever admit it to you.
you sigh, plopping down on the dirty ground with no regard for your clothes. you lean back on your hands and tilt your head up to the late afternoon sky.
"keiji," you call out.
he hums absentmindedly in response, eyebrows furrowing as he shifts the paper upside down.
"do you know where we came from?"
his head lifts up to face you, confusion present on his features, "yeah, of course, we just came from—" he turns around to point at what he's sure is the path you came from, only to find his arm hitting a wall of corn.
you snort, covering your mouth as you finally let out the laughter you've been holding in this whole time.
"what, how—" he whips around and stares incredulously at you, mouth open and closing like a gaping fish, "—huh?! i swear we were just—"
he cuts himself off, snapping his neck around to look for the path that led you here. you laugh harder when he lets out a distressed sound, wheezing on the ground as he visibly loses whatever composure he had.
"you, stop—stop laughing!" he cries out, "where'd the path go?! how the hell are we gonna get out of here?!"
your fists hit the ground as you desperately try to catch your breath, tears forming in your eyes when try to get yourself together for the sake of your boyfriend’s dignity.
"i—" you gasp out, holding your stomach, "i don't know! i've been trying to tell you—"
he exhales sharply and takes his glasses off to pinch his nose bridge, squeezing his eyes shut and muttering unrestrained curses under his breath that would make a sailor blush.
you hiccup when his hands come up to roughly rumple his hair in frustration, no longer caring about the previously neat black strands turning into a disheveled mess. the sight makes you swallow a little. damn your boyfriend for being so attractive.
"i give up." he throws his hands up, looking at you in defeat. "i don't want to do this anymore."
your eyes widen in disbelief, your mouth falling open.
"what do you mean you give up? you can't do that, we're still stuck in here!"
im gonna. say bkg for the selfship game if its still open (but i know these take a while do not fret if u can't get to it!!)
"what are you doin'?"
you're startled by the gruff voice, and when you turn around, you find your boyfriend padding tiredly across the wooden flooring. his thick socks muffle his footsteps, and a corner of your lip turns up at your memories of his constant gripes with the cold weather.
"why are you up?" you counter instead, subtly pushing your bowl of food to the side. you're not exactly trying to hide it, but you know he'll take it as a personal offence that he hadn't fed you enough and grouch about the issues of eating at such a late hour.
katsuki, of course, doesn't miss the movement. even in his exhausted state, his observational skills remain sound. his eyes cut to the ceramic bowl poking out behind your arm, and narrow.
he ignores your question, "it's three am."
"yeah," you say slowly, "it is. that's why i'm tryna' know why you're up."
he shuffles over to where you're sitting on the dinner table, and takes a seat.
"couldn't feel you next t'me," he grumbles, his eyebrows bunched inwards above his half-lidded eyes. his nose scrunches up subconsciously, and the sight of your boyfriend so sleepy sends your heart palpitating and your fingers itching to squeeze his cheeks, "why are you eating so late? was dinner not enough?"
you breathe a laugh through your nose at your correct assumption from earlier, and shake your head, "t'was plenty, baby. i just got some midnight cravings."
"s'not good t'eat so late."
you grin and shift closer to him, "i know, baby, s'just a once in a while thing."
his bottom lips juts out the tiniest bit, and god, you want to kiss this man silly.
"well, hurry up. i wanna go back to bed."
you quirk an eyebrow up, "you can go back by yourself, and i'll come once i'm finished."
his bed hair flops around when he shakes his head, sighing as he slumps down a little in his seat and crosses his arms, "no. i'll go back to bed with you."
your grin widens, and you lean into him to plant a heartful kiss on his soft lips. he falls into it, and releases a shallow breath when you slowly swipe your tongue across his bottom lip. you don't care to deepen it any more, choosing instead to pull back with a gratified smile, just far enough to see him lick his bottom lip and hum at the leftover flavour from your tongue.
"how is it?" you murmur, bringing a hand up to gently brush away the few strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face.
"s'nice. could've made it better."
you chuckle lightly, placing a short peck on his mouth, before moving away to bring your bowl back to you. you pick up a spoon, and take another look at the man you love.
you stop in front of him, crossing your arms and staring at him.
"kiyoomi. where's the damn cat."
he grumbles, looking up at you through his hoodie pulled low over his face.
"why would i know where that demon spawn went?"
you sigh, rolling your neck. very subtly, he sits up a little straighter. you notice, but don't comment.
"because," you begin patiently, "he is our cat, meaning he is our responsibility. meaning we need to know where he is at least 75% of the time."
"not like i wanted the hairy thing," he mumbles, fingers playing with the lace of his hoodie.
"well, you sure looked like you wanted to adopt him as your legal son when he slept next to you yesterday," you retort, "so don't give me that. at this rate, he'll be replacing me by next month."
his mouth drops open, and he's clearly very ready to argue, but you cut him off before he gets the chance to.
"where is he?" you press.
he shrugs dramatically, eyebrows raising and hands held out innocently in front of him, "i don't know! i don't always keep track of where he is."
you're about to snap back when a knock on the door stops you.
you furrow your eyebrows at him, but he simply shrugs his shoulders again.
of course.
you gripe under your breath as you make your way to the apartment entrance, plastering on the most congenial smile you can muster before opening the door.
your neighbor stands in front of you with his wild green hair and atrocious t-shirt (that quite literally says 't-shirt'). his feet shift every so often in nerves, but that's not what catches your attention.
no. it's the large, black cat blinking at you that makes your mouth drop open.
here i am, you irresponsible parent, he says.
then your neighbor starts talking a mile a minute.
"i'm so sorry to bother you, i know it's sort of early but i heard something scratching at my door this morning and at first i thought it was my imagination, then that i must be going crazy, and i didn't originally wanna open the door because that's the kind of thing that gets people killed in horror movies, so i don't know why i did anyway, but i'm glad i did because it was your cat! or, at least, i think it's your cat? i've seen him hanging around you guys so i assumed but honestly i'm not quite too sure now? oh my god, please tell me this is your cat because if it's not then this—"
"yes! yes, you were right," you quickly put a stop to his rambling, holding your hands out to him, "please don't worry, this is my cat, and i was just looking for him," your voice rises at the end of your sentence. you can imagine the wince on your boyfriend’s face.
"oh," he blinks, then visibly deflates, "that's good. very—very good." carefully, he hands the ball of fur over to you.
you smile weakly back at him, "yeah. i, uh, actually really need to go, but—thank you! for bringing him back," you wiggle the cat in your arms.
"oh, s'no problem! of course not, not at all."
"great! have a good rest of your day," you get out, before shutting the door.
you pause, feeling a little guilty.
you yank it open.
"again, thank you so, so much," you repeat, before firmly closing it for the last time.
a beat passes in silence in your apartment, broken only by the sound of your cat meowing. he hops off your arms and lands swiftly on the floor, slinking away into the hallway.
from the living room, sakusa calls out, "at least now you know where he is?"
you could physically have the evidence right in front of you and he still wouldn't admit it, but when semi was still pining after you, he had a tiny journal where he'd write down all the little thoughts he had about you, like how he loved the new way you styled your hair or how he thinks a certain colour goes so well against your skin. most of the time they'd flesh out into small poems and verses, and they're so disorganized and all over the place, and sometimes they're really horribly cheesy, but they were all truly genuine and meaningful, and it's the only reason why he's still kept it with him all these years later.
send me a hq/bnha/jjk character and ill give you a romantic headcanon about them — CLOSED.
"shut up," you throw back at kisaki, ignoring his words and resuming your humming as you mix the steaming pot of curry on the stove.
"you sound terrible," he says dryly, glasses slipping down the slope of his nose as he leans on the counter, "off tune and everything."
"show me where the hell i asked," you reply, opening your spice cabinet.
"you didn't, but i'm telling you anyway. you're shit."
"die."
he snorts, placing his chin in his hand. his piercing eyes follow your movements, narrow and scrutinizing as they always are, but lacking in their usual ice. "i'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?"
you hum absentmindedly as you search for the last ingredient of spice needed for this. your hands go through seven different bottles before you're scowling, grumbling under your breath.
"where the fuck is the—" you cut yourself off when you feel a presence at your back. you hadn't heard him sneak up behind you, and you feel annoyance swell up in you at that fact.
"what."
he doesn't say anything, only moving closer and crowding you slightly into the counter. his body is warm behind you, chest pressed lightly against you, and it's not as suffocating as you would have thought. he's close enough that you can smell the distinct scent of his cologne over the curry.
you want to open your mouth, say something smart or cutting, but a moment later, he's reaching an arm high, high above you, and grabbing something off the top shelf in the cabinet.
for a moment, you're so close you can feel his breaths hitting the back of your neck, then just as suddenly, he's gone, his body moving away from you as the bottle you were looking for sits plainly on the counter, smug despite its inanimate nature.
"here you go."
it's all he says, but you can hear the beginnings of a smirk in his low voice, and it makes you want to whirl around and smack the stupid thing off his face.
your movements are stiff when you grab the spice bottle, snapping open the cover and aggressively shaking the flakes into the pot. behind you, kisaki takes his place back at the island with a satisfied curl on his lips.
"a thank you would be nice, y'know."
you scoff, snatching a wooden spatula off a plate to vigorously stir the curry.
"i didn't ask you to do that, asshole," you gripe under your breath, "i would've eventually found it myself."
the faint sound of a chuckle almost makes your shackles rise, but then he's humming in agreement and speaking.
"yeah, i'm sure you would've. guess i wanted to help."
you freeze. you don't quite know what to say to that.
then he continues, "remind me to never do that again."
a minute passes before you're poked in the side again. you do as you've been doing for the last thirty minutes, and ignore it.
it works for ten seconds. then a thick finger pokes your cheek instead.
you narrow your eyes and cut them over to your boyfriend.
"what."
kirishima's pouting, like he's the one who had his last bit of ice cream eaten. you'd told him very explicitly not to, that you've been saving it to enjoy on the weekend, where you'd be watching a movie and cuddling with your boyfriend during the incoming storm.
and then you came home to the box in the trash can.
"i'm sorry," he says, his eyes doing the stupid thing where they go wide and look guilty.
you're not convinced.
"so you've said," you reply shortly, before turning your attention back to your phone. the words on the screen are blurry in the face of your annoyance.
"i'm sorry," he moans, stretching his arms over your lap and looking pitifully up at you, "i really, really, really am. i swear, i didn't realize 'til i'd already finished it," his bottom lips sticks the tiniest bit more out.
you sigh, shifting your gaze back at him. your stoic facade lasts for all of twenty seconds, before you're huffing and pushing his big head away from you.
"i told you not to eat it!" you whine, crossing your arms petulantly, "we can't go out during the storm and get more. now what am i supposed to eat during movie night," you slide down the couch, chin buried in your arms.
his body visibly relaxes at the sudden showcase of your frustrations, and you're confused—didn't you just tell him that your entire weekend's been ruined?—but then he's crawling back up the length of your body, grinning widely.
"that's why you were mad?" he asks, incredulous but oddly relieved, and you're about to snap back at him—seriously, does he not understand what's going on here?—when he leans down to press a full kiss on your lips.
your thoughts come to a momentary stop, your body reacting before you can spare it another thought. you tilt into it, a content sigh filtering past your lips between you, when just as suddenly, he's pulling back and leaving you to trail after him.
a huff of laughter sounds above you, and you open your eyes (when had they closed?) to see him smiling amusedly down at you.
instantly, your annoyance floods back into the forefront of your brain, but you pause when he next speaks.
"i already bought you another box."
your mouth drops open, and a moment passes where you try to figure out why the hell you hadn't seen it, then—
