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lightseoul · 4 months

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new relationships have that type of fragility that requires care, patience, restraint, and temperance. and, well…katsuki has never been known to be gentle.

or, katsuki struggles with the thought that he’s being too much, too soon.

2.8k+ | no warnings. now this one i actually like :D i luv writing new beginnings yall 😔 i think theyre so cute. anw. reader alluded to as being smaller than bkg. sorry all i j think he's beeg. like massive :(

“would you quit that?”

katsuki pockets his phone, looking up at kirishima. “quit what?”

“bringin’ out your phone, lookin’ at your texts and putting it back in your pocket every thirty seconds.” kirishima replies, gaze straight ahead, occasionally nodding and smiling politely to passersby who wave hello. “and get that look off your face. you’re scaring these poor people.”

they’ve been patrolling the city since the early afternoon. the sun has set about an hour and a half ago, lights from buildings and streetlamps alike lighting up the city, and in all the hours they’ve been walking around, there hasn’t been anything worth paying attention to. not that he wants a particularly busy and grueling day full of fuckers seeking to wreak havoc, he’s just…antsy. and not in any way connected to his job.

katsuki scoffs. “don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do.” his hand drifts to his back pocket to once again reach for his phone, but he catches himself. “‘sides, the point is to intimidate any asshole who wants to start shit. don’t plan on stretching this shift any longer than it needs to be, nip it in the bud and all that.”

“another date night?” kirishima asks, his tone far too teasing for katsuki’s liking. he knows the redhead’s just as bored as he is, and it’s starting to sound like he found something to amuse himself with.

“no.” he grumbles. it’s the truth. this is one of the nights where you’ve made no plans to see each other.

“ah, that explains it.”

“explains what?”

“the whole can’t stop looking at your phone, everything sucks, this day is too long thing you’ve got going on.” kirishima laughs. “clinger.”

the last word earns the redhead a forceful shove from katsuki, even alerting some of the people around them. “i’m fucking not.”

“weren’t you just with her the other day? you’re already acting like you haven’t seen her for months.” kirishima goes on, dodging his hits with a grin on his face. “ever ask her if she’s tired of you yet?”

“fuck you. you wanna end this shift early, settle this somewhere with far less people?”

if kirishima or anybody else must really know, he’s not a clinger. your relationship, new as it is, is very much healthy with good boundaries, thank you very fucking much. is it killing him, making him feel like he’s going through withdrawal going a few days without seeing you? sure. but take this night for example, you’re out with friends for dinner and he’s doing his job. you didn’t make plans to see each other. you have your own thing and he has his. that should be evidence enough that he’s not a clinger.

kiri just barks out a laugh. “i’m bored, but not bored enough to want a beating, so no, thank you.”

he gives his friend one last shove, not bothering to reply as they go on walking through the busy streets on this particularly calm night. the temperature is just right, with a slight breeze that cools the heat left over by the sun earlier. he wonders if you’re having fun at your dinner, is the food good? and how are you gonna get home? you took an uber to go to the restaurant, and he wonders if you’ll be taking one to get back home, too, or if one of your friends will drop you off.

he reaches for his phone again, flipping kirishima off when he snickers. he debates on texting you the questions running through his mind just now, maybe even giving you a call if it’s not too much. your last text was a picture of you and one of your friends, your face lit up by the warm ambient light in the restaurant, with “here! be safe while patrolling tonight please 💗”

he taps on your contact photo, leading him to the screen that gives him the option to call. what if you’re still in the middle of eating, talking to your friends? your last text wasn’t even two hours old. surely he can go one more.

he lets out a sigh. he should probably think about what he’s going to eat after work. something he already has the ingredients for, because he’ll be damned if he has to add the tedious task of grocery shopping to this already tedious day.

“you know, if you’re gonna keep acting like it’s gonna kill you if you don’t, just call her.” kirishima comments.

“what did i just say about telling me what to fucking do?” he takes a few menacing steps towards his friend.

kirishima raises both arms in surrender, a nonchalant expression on his face. “just trying to help out. you’re obviously struggling.”

yeah, is it that fucking obvious?

to some degree, he already expected it from himself. he wasn’t known to half-ass things, so why should something this important be an exception? it’s a glaring neon sign—the delicate beginning of a relationship is the worst time for someone like katsuki; all in from the very beginning, already brimming with certainty that this—you are it, already devoted to the bone. his patience is already hanging by a thread with how much he’s holding back how viscerally he feels for you. he’s not here to play games, dammit, but he can’t spring all that on you after a couple of months now, can he? even if he’s been sold the moment you talked to him.

his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he feels like the gods have smiled down on him when he sees your name on his lock screen.

we’re getting ready to head home, had a few drinks. how are you?

I’m good. Only an hour and a half left until switch over.

Did you have fun?

i did!! the food was great

Are you taking the uber home or is one of your friends dropping you off?

one my friends will drive us all home 😉

Any plans when you get home?

his palms start to sweat. he knows that there’s a slight implication to his question, but he hopes you don’t take it the wrong way. well, whatever the fuck the wrong way is. he does want to know what you’ll be up to and he’ll be fine if knowing is all he gets, but he does also want to go see you. either way, he's fucked.

hmmm

maybe read. or watch whatever i find

do you have any plans once you’re done? i take it it’s slow if you have all this time to text, pro hero dynamight 😼

Whip up some dinner and knockout early, hopefully.

And yes, it is slow.

you and your old man bedtime

he can just picture the teasing expression on your face, and it makes a smile pull at his lips. fuck, he wants to see you so badly.

“you’re fuckin useless like this, you know that?” kirishima breaks through his thoughts. “villains could get the drop on you so quick. hell, probably even regular civilians. what then? that’s something for the headlines—prohero dynamight dead at 25, attacked while texting during patrol.”

“yeah you’ve got a bright future in journalism with that fuckin’ headline. try that, since you’re so good at bein’ on my fuckin’ ass all the time anyway.” he doesn’t even glance at kiri, too busy typing and deleting five simple words.

Can I come see you?

ever since you started going out a couple of months ago, you’ve been seeing each other every weekend, and some weekdays, if both of your schedules allow it. it might seem excessive to some, but they have no fucking say in what he does at the end of the day. he wants to get to know you and spend time with you, so, with the exception of emergencies, of course he’s gonna make time to see you as often as he can.

he plans out each time you see each other meticulously, whether it be simple lunches or dinners, going to aquariums, concerts, the park, the mall—whatever it is that strikes your fancy. the thing with all of those dates, though, was that they were all planned days in advance. he’s asked about your own schedule first before planning anything.

you’d gone on a lot of dates, but you’d never gone to see each other spontaneously. he doesn’t know if it’s too early for that, or if you’re at the level where he can drop by your place when he feels like it with just a text as a warning.

kirishima is right, as much as he hates to admit it. you were just together the other night. this night is supposed to be one of those nights out of this week that he’s not spending with you. some semblance of taking things slow, of giving you space and making sure he doesn’t suffocate you with his presence. just one night to miss you, and he’s already fucking it up.

a text from you pops up before he starts another cycle of typing and deleting.

looks like you got busy, don’t wanna distract you too much. goodnight, katsuki. take care.

followed by a picture of you in your pajamas, fresh from the shower and blowing him a kiss. and fuck, the thought of going home to his empty apartment gets less and less appealing by the second.

if he could, he would make the world spin faster with his bare hands, just so the next hour or so passes by quickly so that he can finally get to you.

kirishima must’ve gotten sick of him running his hands through his hair and sighing every five seconds, because he gives him a shove this time. “go. a rookie would be more willing, and frankly, more useful, at this point.”

he gives in with one last sigh, tapping kiri on the back and heading to the opposite direction, back to his agency for a quick shower before going to see you. finally.

“this is going on your record, by the way!” kiri yells after him.

he flips the redhead off. “it’s my agency.”

“it’s mine too!”

it’s not until he’s ringing the bell to your place that his thoughts catch up to him. there he was, rushing through packing his things and freshening up, thinking of his pretty girl—all cozy and warm in her pajamas, ready to go to bed for the night—that he didn’t even remember that he hadn’t replied to her last text.

and now he’s standing in front of her door like an idiot, no warning whatsoever.

he freezes when the door opens, revealing you—even prettier in the flesh—so close that he would feel your warmth if he just reaches out. you look just as shocked as he probably does.

“are you— were you already asleep?” he digs his hands into the pockets of his joggers to hide his habit of clenching and unclenching them when he’s nervous, even tilting his head down to hide his face behind the bill of his cap.

“no, i wasn’t. i—you didn’t reply, i thought you got busy.” he sees your bare feet shuffle on the rug before he finally summons the courage to look back up at your face. “and, didn’t you have like, a half hour left?” you turn your head, probably looking at a wall clock.

“i got out early.”

you nod, eyes going back and forth between his, like you’re looking for something. an explanation, probably, as to why the guy you’ve been seeing for less than two months is at your door unprompted. there’s also warmth there, along with the surprise, or maybe he’s tricking himself into thinking that this wasn’t that terrible of an idea after all.

“do you wanna come in?” you ask, taking a step back and biting your lip, eyes bright.

he nods, taking his hands out of his pocket and taking a step inside, closing the door behind him.

he stays on the entrance for a few seconds, and you do, too, looking at him through your lashes, fiddling with the hem of your pajama shorts. you just look so soft, so warm, so…his, that he reaches out to touch your face subconsciously, but then he pauses midway.

and the question is all there—in his eyes that long to take you in, his hands that seek your warmth, his very being—asking, is this too much? can i do this now? can i have you like this, do we have it like this now?

you catch his hand, squeezing it in your own smaller one, and you gravitate towards each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“hi,” you say, looking up at him with gleaming eyes, and this time, he’s sure it’s not just his mind playing tricks on him—you’re happy he’s here.

“hey,” he finally lets his hand rest on your face, thumb rubbing up and down the curve of your cheek.

“you went to see me,” you whisper.

he chokes out the question with a little more courage now. “‘s it too much?”

you shake your head. “no. was me sending pictures too much?”

his eyebrows scrunch together, but a small smile stays on his lips. “that’s not nearly comparable to what i just did, princess.”

you shrug, leaning your chin on his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck as you look up at him with big eyes. “i feel silly sometimes. what if you don’t like it? you never send any back.”

and it’s then that he realizes, you’re just like him, with your seeking hands and soft eyes; toeing the balance between wanting the other and the fear of being too much—feeling too much, too soon.

and with that knowledge, everything else be damned, he’s all in. it’s not his fault he has amazing discernment. not his fault that he just knows, just as he did with what he wanted to do with life, as he did with everything that matters to him, he just knows that it is you.

he grins, wrapping his other arm around your waist and pulling you even closer. “that’s just ‘cause i can’t pose for shit, baby. can’t look all cute like you do.”

your eyebrows furrow. “you’re cute.”

he barks out a laugh, dropping his forehead to yours. “never been called that, but if you say i am, then i am.”

you smile up at him, tilting your head a bit more so the tips of your noses meet. “it’s not too much then?”

“no, it’s not. i like seein’ your face.”

“that’s why you came to see me, huh?” you tease. “can’t go a day without seeing it huh?”

“yeah.” he agrees seamlessly.

you decide to push more. “you missed me, huh?”

he can only nod dazedly, eyes soft and searching, like he’s waiting for you to say something. maybe that you missed him, too.

you decide to string him along a bit more, pressing a soft kiss to his lips without answering, one that he eagerly returns.

you pull away with a grin. “i’m kind of getting tired of your face,” you say softly, teasingly, no bite at all to your words.

a spark of challenge lights up his eyes. “yeah?” he asks as he splays his hands behind your thighs, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. “i take it the next time i come knockin’, you’ll slam the door in my face then?”

“yeah, surely,” you barely finish your sentence before his lips are on yours again. this kiss is hungrier than the last, his tongue delving in to meet yours in a tangle that says everything you never verbalized—you missed him just as much, you need him just as much. you’re just as scared of being too much, too soon, but by god, you can’t hold back if your life depended on it.

you’re just as sure of him as he is of you.

“‘m just gonna have to scale your building and come in through your window then, huh?” he pants after you break off the kiss, pressing a few more little kisses on your swollen lips like he just can’t get enough.

“uh-huh, you can try,” you say, sounding just as winded as he does. “i’ll call my big, bad pro hero boyfriend on you.” you grin.

“your boyfriend, huh,” he grins, big and proud, one he tries to stifle as he presses his face against your shirt.

and it’s not like his certainty wasn’t bone-deep from the very beginning. but god. god. now it’s like the first time he realized over again. it’s you.

#all time faves #bakugou x reader

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