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tigerlilla · 7 months

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reposting this cause nanami is trending AS HE SHOULD BE

nurse nanami

a nanami x reader fic

summary: nanami takes care of you while ur sick, gender neutral reader :)

thank u for reading <3

———

you open your eyes slowly, awakened by the sound of his soft voice. you glance up at his face, careful not to shift too much and let him know you’re awake.

“hello, this is kento nanami. i’m-“ he stops. he looks ethereal in the morning, the sun on his tousled blonde hair.

you notice his phone pressed against his face. you’re slightly jealous that it gets to touch his gorgeous cheekbones before you.

“yes, i am their boyfriend,” nanami continues to rub comforting circles into your back, lightly making patterns. “they’ve been running a fever with all the typical symptoms of the flu,” he pauses again, listening to the voice on the other end of the line. “ah, i see. thank you. i’ll keep you updated.” nanami places his phone down on the nightstand.

you lift your head up, your eyes meeting his. his round glasses have slid down to the end of his nose, you push them back up on his face with your finger.

“sorry, did i wake you?” he asks, a small frown on his face.

“no,” you lie, your voice coming out cracked and raw.

he hands you a glass of water from his side of the bed.

you take it from him, slowly sipping on the stale water.

“go back to sleep,” nanami says, his voice soft and comforting, completely different than his cold demeanor with everyone else.

you shake your head, sitting all the way up, “i have to go to work. i have to finish the project. it’s due today-“

he stops you with a cold hand on your shoulder. “i already talked to the office secretary. she said the flu has been going around your building and it’s best that you take the day off.”

you sigh loudly, rubbing your sleepy eyes.

“lay back down,” nanami commands.

you give in, laying down against his cool chest. it feels so nice against your warm face.

he lets you fall asleep against him, placing a sweet kiss on the top of your head. nanami isn’t grossed out by you drooling on him, he actually finds it quite adorable. he wipes your nose when you sniffle, unfazed by the ungodly amount of snot leaking out of your nose. nanami is careful to gently prop you up against his upright body when your chest begins to wheeze. he lets you shift against him; lets you hug his arm or curl up against his side. nanami pulls the blankets over your shoulders when you shiver, pushing them off when you begin to sweat.

you drift in and out of consciousness, only fully waking up in the afternoon.

“mm, good morning,” nanami murmurs, the corners of his mouth turning up ever-so-slightly. he places his hand against your forehead, “you’re hot.”

you prop your chin up on his chest, giving him your best doe-eyed look, “but kento,” you whine, “aren’t i always hot?”

he narrows his eyes, “oh please, don’t start acting like gojo.”

you laugh, your laughter quickly turning into a coughing fit.

he rubs your back, holding a tissue to your mouth as you cough up mucus. “sorry, doll.”

you lean against him, continuing to breathe heavily.

nanami hands you some pills and a glass of water, prompting you to take them.

you grudgingly agree, quickly swallowing the green capsules.

“good job, sweetheart, i know you don’t like them,” he goes back to rubbing patterns on your back.

“i’m hungry,” you say softly into the comforting fabric of his tshirt.

“noodles?” nanami asks, sweetly rubbing sweaty hair out of your face.

you nod weakly.

he swings his leg over the side of the bed, going to stand up.

you grab his wrist, his skin cool against your burning touch.

he understands immediately, walking over to your side of the bed and scooping you up in his arms. he carries you bridal style, taking you with him to the other room. nanami smells like toothpaste and laundry detergent and freshly printed newspaper. but right now, you can’t smell anything at all. nanami lays you down on the living room couch, noticing the pout on your face.

“i can’t smell anything,” you explain. “i miss your smell.”

“i can smell you,” nanami chuckles, ignoring your look of betrayal.

“kento,” you whine, “you can’t pick on me when i’m sick. how come you only act like this to me?”

“because you’re the only one i like to tease, sweetheart,” nanami kisses your temple before heading into the kitchen.

you watch nanami move around the open kitchen. he would make the perfect husband, you sigh. he looks so good in his tight university tee and boxers. his tits would make anyone envious. you wish you weren’t sick. you would love to-

“did you hear me?” nanami asks, his eyes locked on to you.

“sorry,” your eyes flicker up from his chest, “what did you say?”

“i asked if you’re warm, your face is red,” nanami repeats.

“oh, no, i’m fine,” you hide behind the back of the couch, slightly embarrassed by your midday fantasies.

“hmm,” nanami says with a slight smirk, bringing a bowl of noodles over to you.

“thank you,” you blush, taking the bowl from him. “thank you for taking today off to take care of me.”

“it’s my pleasure, doll,” he replies, sitting down next to you. “besides, when was the last time we had a day off together?”

“too bad i have the flu,” you pout. you slurp down your noodles, the warm broth feeling wonderful on your sore throat.

“that good, huh?” nanami asks, grinning down at you.

“delicious, babe,” you reply, happily smiling at him. “try some,” you hold out the bowl before pulling it back. “actually, you probably shouldn’t eat after me. i don’t want to make you sick.”

“i have a strong immune system. me getting sick isn’t a problem.”

you tilt your head, “we’ve been together for three years and you’ve never been sick. not even a cold or anything.” you scoff, “god really played favorites with you; handsome, smart, immune to sickness, big d-“

nanami interrupts you, knowing how you were going to finish that sentence, “eat your food before it gets cold.”

“yes, sir,” you giggle, slurping down your noodles. you stand up from the couch, immediately feeling dizzy.

nanami’s beside you in an instant, his hand on your back.

you lean against his side, “sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “do you want to walk?”

you nod, hesitantly stepping forward.

nanami keeps his arm around you, holding you steady. he helps you walk to the bedroom. “good job, baby.”

“now, i’m tired,” you plop down on your side of the bed.

“you could take a nap,” nanami sits down beside you, scooting over so you can rest against his side.

“i hate being sick,” you groan.

“i know,” he frowns, rubbing the side of your face with his thumb. “i think the docu-series about the zodiac killer you wanted to watch is out.”

your eyes light up, “you’re right. do you want to watch it with me?”

nanami smiles at your reaction, “of course, doll.”

you giggle excitedly, tucking your chin against his chest, “you’re the best, kento.”

he smiles, tracing words onto your back. he swallows loudly, ignoring the tickle in the back of his throat.

“i’m so glad you remembered this series. i can’t believe that i forgot ab-“

nanami sneezes, jolting you off his chest.

you prop yourself up on your arm, your eyes meeting his, “oh no, i got my nurse sick,” your frown. “i guess i’ll be taking care of you tomorrow, nurse nanami.”

#bf nanami #nanami x y/n #nanami scenarios #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami x you #nanami

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tigerlilla · 8 months

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LMAOOO FINALLY PROOF READ THIS SORRY xox

thinking about bakugo katsuki frowning at the big book in your lap, the one that’s been taking all your attention for the past week. you lazily run a hand across his shoulders, creases forming between your eyebrows as you focus on the words bleeding across the page.

katsuki had asked what you were reading multiple times, but you’d always shrugged him off, saying ‘just some fantasy book i saw online, nothing you’d like.’ he believed you at first, but you’d been lugging around the 900 page doorstop for the past week. you’d read it in bed, on the couch, on the train. today, you’d even rushed your shower, hopping out as soon as he stepped in. he found you wrapped in your towel, face buried in your book five minutes later.

katsuki was throughly fed up. he racked his brain, trying to remember the title. he’d seen it a million times. what was it? the barbarian? the dragon king? court of kings? the court of the barbarian king! that was it!

katsuki typed it into his phone, determined to figure out what was so goddamn good about this book. he read the book description.

the eastern coast was in ruins; a barbarian king sitting atop the cities he buried. him and his court of conquerors and criminals terrorized the coast, aiming for total destruction. until he meets autumn winter rain, the lost princess of the tree islands, living abandoned and alone, close to death in the ruins of a former port town. barbarian king katsuko takes the girl hostage, unaware of the great power she carries. in this epic story of love and conquest, war and survival, katsuko and autumn will weave a tale of twists and turns, with plenty of spicy heat to keep fans interested.

the description seemed normal enough to katsuki. he was smart enough to know the fan art would really tell him about the book. he clicked over to images, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

it was him. as a barbarian. his red eyes, spiky blond hair, permanent scowl. every image looked the same. looked like him.

katsuko. the main characters name was katsuko. holy fucking shit. and spicy romance? bakugo knew you read some messed up kinky shit, so he could only imagine what this book had.

a quick search confirmed it. katsuki scrolled through thread after thread laughing at the published “fanfic” so deliciously dirty it had caused quite a stir.

“‘suki?” you said softly, looking at him in concern. “what’s wrong, baby?”

he turned to you, eyes full of evil, a smirk playing on his lips. “why does you reading a smutty published fanfic about me turn me on so much?”

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tigerlilla · 8 months

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hey how do you spell execessential excessential extesesial extessenisal excesscenial

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tigerlilla · 8 months

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“you have fifteen fucking thousand at home,” bakugo grunts, staring at the plushie you’ve thrust in front of his face.

“but i don’t have a capybara in a scarf. please,” you use your puppy dog eyes that you know he can’t resist. “pretty please, ‘suki?” your lower lip quivers.

he shoves the plush back into your arms. “jesus christ, woman, don’t look at me like that.”

you giggle and stand on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek.

you don’t care that you’re in the middle of a children’s toy store right before christmas and it’s busy as hell and at least half a dozen kids are excitedly pointing at the pro hero.

“thank you, baby,” you coo, kissing him again. “i love you! i’m going to name him granola bakugo.”

bakugo sighs, pretending to be annoyed with you, even as he pulls out his gold credit card. “love you, too. let’s go buy your damn rodent so we can get outta here.”

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tigerlilla · 8 months

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act like you like me

part 4 … read part 1

———————

“shit. can you grab my jacket from my room?”

bakugo stomped into your room, “how am i supposed to find anything in here? jesus christ.”

“it’s on top of the pile closest to the door,” you yelled.

“found it,” bakugo replied a second later, tossing you the black sweatshirt.

“thanks,” you slid the jacket on. “i’ll be back in a couple hours. don’t miss me too much. bye,” you gave a wink before closing the apartment door behind you.

it was saturday, your favorite. your security system, paid for by the all might agency, was up and running. but still, bakugo had shown up at 6 friday, waiting to take you back to his apartment. and who were you to say no to mr big three pro hero?

you honestly enjoyed living with bakugo. he made you dinner every night, didn’t complain when you used most of the hot water in the shower, and he had started to get used to the dramas you watched each night, asking questions about the characters every so often.

bakugo even suggested you go shopping for a dress for the hero billboard chart gala with dylan today. you tried to argue that the gala was still weeks away, but bakugo flashed the agency credit card and you couldn’t resist.

you passed by kirishima in the lobby, giving a polite wave. dylan was waiting in his fancy car, music blasting, tires squealing the minute you shut the door behind you.

…

“why are we here again?” kirishima asked, pulling the baseball cap further down.

“i‘m getting something,” bakugo responded, making his way through the store’s aisles. “i just gotta grab it and then we can go.”

“yeah, but what are you getting?” kiri asked, staying close behind bakugo.

katsuki stopped, eyeing the boxes on the shelf in front of him.

“a clothing rack?” kirishima asked. “oh, is it for-“

“shh,” bakugo hissed, red eyes pinned on the hero. “yes, for her. all her shit’s on the ground.”

kiri smirked, “i’ve never seen you act like this, kats. i kinda like it.”

“shut up,” bakugo snarled, pulling a box down off the shelf.

kirishima followed in silence, his smile still on his face, annoying the hell out of bakugo. he spoke once in the checkout line, tossing a pack of gum on the conveyor belt, “for the one you chewed half of.”

bakugo rolled his eyes, “fuckin whatever.” he paused at the magazine rack, the familiar title taunting him. you’d been flipping through one on the couch last night, reading your favorite lines from the interview with yaomomo. bakugo reached for it-

“dude. what are you doing?” kirishima asked, pushing bakugo forward in the line. “the poor cashier has been trying to ask you to pay for like five minutes.”

bakugo blinked, pulling the bills out of his wallet, passing them over to the cashier.

“jesus, dude. why do you carry so much cash? just use your card,” kirishima frowned at the wad of cash.

“she’s using my card,” bakugo sighed, folding the receipt into his wallet.

“oh, no fucking way!” the cashier beamed at kiri. “red riot! i’m such a fan. can you sign something for me? hold on, let me get a piece of paper or something.”

bakugo’s eyes flicked back to the magazine rack, thinking about you on his couch and how much wanted to be home.

…

“oh boyysss,” dylan sang, strutting into bakugo’s apartment, your shopping bags thrown over his shoulder. “we have returned.”

bakugo grunted, his attention fixed on the tv. kirishima and him were playing some fighting video game on the big tv. kirishima had the yellow knit blanket you brought over from your apartment thrown over his lap. the edges were ratty and worn, but it looked good with bakugo’s black couch.

“hey baby,” kirishima replied to dylan, eyes locked on the tv. “how was shopping?” you watched the game, kirishima’s red haired character waving a sword at bakugo’s.

“we found the dress,” dylan smiled, plopping down on the arm of the couch, leaning against his boyfriend. “and a few other things.”

“oh good ‘cause bakugo accidentally burnt a few things putting together that stupid rack,” kirishima sighed, leaning against dylan. they were so perfect for each other it made you sick.

“rack?” you asked quietly, more to yourself than anyone.

bakugo’s jaw tightened and his eyes flicked off the screen and over to you just for a split second. that was all kiri needed. “player 2 wins” flashed on the screen. he whooped and pulled dylan into a deep kiss. bakugo sighed, setting his controller down on the coffee table atop the magazine you’d been reading last night, his eyes stuck on open pages.

“what rack?” you asked again.

kirishima pulled away from his kiss with dylan, looking at bakugo. he was silent, eyes fixed on the magazine. kirishima sighed, he tilted his head towards your bedroom.

you opened the door, expecting to have to push against the pile of clothes you were going to pick up eventually. there was nothing on your floor. instead, there was a clothing rack with your things hanging on it and stuff folded into metal shelves attached to the side of the rack.

“you did this?” you whispered, knowing bakugo was standing behind you. you’d learned to recognize his quiet steps, the metallic smell of his, the way your fingers twitched when you subconsciously felt his presence.

“i was tired of looking at your pile of shit.” katsuki’s voice was hard, like gravel underneath your boots, but there was a softness in it, a softness that tried so hard to not be seen.

“thank you,” you turned to him, your voice still a whisper. your fingers found his sweater shirt sleeve, like you need to touch him to let him know you really mean it. suddenly, you wished that the two of you were alone. you wished you had spent the afternoon giggling at katsuki struggling with a screwdriver. you wished that none of this was fake.

no, you wished you didn’t feel like this at all.

…

bakugo stood there, watching your pretty eyes flick back and forth across his face, your fingers caught on his sleeve. he watched as those pretty eyes sparkled and the corner of your mouth curved up. and then he watched as the smile vanished off your face and your brow scrunched before you stepped around him without another word.

he stood there, listening as you said something to dylan with the hint of a laugh. bakugo had learned very quickly what would make you laugh; the quick retorts that would get your bubbly laughs, the curses that would get your low snickers, the facial expressions that made you grab your sides in laughter. he pushed down his jealousy. it was stupid to be jealous. bakugo knew he didn’t have a right to be.

bakugo stepped after you, walking to where you sat on the couch next to dylan, pulling something out of a bag.

you looked up at him, that flicker of pain and anger he saw earlier completely gone. “katsuki, would you like to see the dress we picked out?” you started to pull it out of the big zip up bag, but dylan screamed, throwing his body on top of yours.

“no! it’s a secret!” dylan hissed. “we didn’t spend hours picking out the perfect dress just for you to show him the minute you get home.”

you were confused. “this isn’t a wedding dress. and i really don’t think bakugo cares that much.”

“you care, don’t you, bakugo?” dylan asked, puppy dog eyeing bakugo.

kirishima gave you both look of pity. “come on, babe. i’m sure they’ll be more excited when the gala’s closer. we gotta get going. we have our reservation at 7.“

“we gotta go eat our weight in fancy oysters and mirco salads,” dylan sighed happily. “oh! would you both like to do a video with me for my socials? cooking or baking or whatever?”

you blinked, “i’m not sure. can we get back to you?”

“sure thing, sweets,” dylan gave you a side hug. “don’t you dare show kats that dress.” you nodded. “good girl! have fun tonight! i sure will,” dylan gave a cute little giggle, throwing an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. “bye, losers! love you!”

kirishima sighed, but the love in his gaze was enough to make you want to vomit. “have a nice night. see you later, kats.”

katsuki deflated beside you, slouching back against the couch as the door closed.

“i love dylan, but dear god, i don’t know how kirishima lives with him,” you sighed, staring at the shopping bags splayed at your feet.

“he’s fucking insane,” bakugo replied, running a hand over his face.

you frowned, pointing at a puffy scratch across his hand, “what’s this?”

“huh? oh, got it at work yesterday,” his red eyes caught your frown.

“did someone take a look at it?”

“it’s just a scratch,” he replied, his annoyance clear in his dismissive tone.

you frowned deeper, “i don’t like that you didn’t have anyone look at it. at least put a bandaid on it. it looks bad.”

bakugo sighed, “jesus christ, woman. it’s just a scratch.”

it was your turn to huff in annoyance. “i’m sorry that i’m fucking concerned.”

bakugo rolled his eyes and stood from the couch, “whatever. i don’t want to fucking argue about it. let’s just grab dinner and i’ll take a picture with a fan or something. it’ll be our weekly stunt.”

him blowing off your question annoyed the shit out of you, but he was right, it was time for your photo op. you scoffed, “you act like we’ll find a fan of yours anywhere.” you stood and followed him to the door.

bakugo narrowed his eyes, “we will.”

you winked, “sure.” katsuki hated when you gave that ridiculously sweet smile. you knew it, that’s why you’d been making that smile more and more often. you reached for the door handle.

sure enough, that familiar sneer stretched across his face, “you think you’re better than me, princess?”

“i know i am,” you gave him that sweet, sinful smile, turning so your back was pushed against the door, your face looking up at him.

bakugo barked a laugh, leaning over you, placing his hand on the door beside your head. his voice was a low grumble, “they’re predicting i’ll take number one. i am number one.”

“because i’ve turned you into the perfect boyfriend, katsuki.” you looked up at him through your lashes, a quick jolt of confidence running through you. “they love the dynamight i’ve created. they love me.”

his cage around you only got tighter as he leaned even closer, his breath tickling your lips. “you think you’re the shit, don’t you? you’re-“

the opening of the door pushed you into katsuki, your face buried in his shoulder. his arm slid around you as you stumbled forward into him.

“damn dude, you really need to get that door fixed. you gotta push so hard-“ kirishima finally closed the door, staring at the two of you smushed into each other against the wall. “oh shit,” he slammed his hand over his eyes. “sorry, i forgot my phone.”

katsuki’s whole backside was pressed against the wall, you pressed against him, the side of your face against his chest as you stared at the redhead with wide eyes. bakugo’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him, while his other arm snaked up your back, his hand cradling the back of your head.

kirishima muttered under his breath as he walked to the couch, peeking through his fingers. he grabbed his phone from between the cushions. “so sorry. just pretend this didn’t happen and go back to what you were doing before i came in.” he opened the door, giving a small wink, “have a great rest of your night.”

bakugo waited a few seconds after the door was closed before he let you go, suddenly aware of how tightly he was pressing you against him.

you blinked, stepping back from bakugo, only to step back into the door again. you blinked again.

bakugo watched your frown melt into the cute scrunched nose thing you did before you giggled. he tried not to smile as your laughs bubbled up and out of you, as you grabbed his arm and wheezed, “i’m sorry, that was so fucking funny. we should never do that again.” he didn’t quite understand what you meant, but his red eyes softened with each giggle.

…

dylan (kiri’s gf): heard kiri cockbloxked u last night

bakugo sighed, turning his phone over on the counter.

dylan (kiri’s gf): so i feel like this is a bad time but i’d love to talk to you about your social media strategy

dylan (kiri’s gf): n don’t worry she’s on board w it, texted w her last night

dylan picked up on the first ring, “morning handsome, did-“

“fine, but she’s in the loop the whole time. no games, either,” bakugo said into the phone.

“deal, message me-“

“good morning,” you stumbled out of your bedroom, immediately wrapping yourself up with the blanket on the couch. “who were you talking to?”

“dylan. there’s toast and jam on the coffee table.” bakugo kept his gaze on the pan on the stove.

“thank you,” you hummed, reaching for the bread laid out in front of the couch. “are we still going to ochaco’s today?”

“yeah, we’ve got to be there at three,” he replied, a plate of eggs in hand as he sat down beside you.

“oh, so we have plenty of time,” you noted.

it was quiet as you both ate in silence.

“i’ve been thinking of making a public instargram,” you said, eyeing bakugo’s expression. “all might told me it would be good for you if i had an online presence.”

bakugo shrugged, “if you want.”

“when was the last time you posted on yours?”

“never,” bakugo leaned back against the couch, popping his back. “you and dyl ganging up on me? two people bothering me about socials in the same morning feels like an attack.”

you narrowed your eyes, “hmm.” he glared at you. “can you teach me how to play the game you and kirishima were playing?”

…

“and then i used my wind powers to push him off the platform and he died,” you finished your story, smug with satisfaction.

kiki nodded, “sounds awesome. i wish i could beat unkie bakugo in a game.”

“you’ll get there one day,” you sighed. “let’s go see if your mom will let us have second dessert.”

kiri squealed as your picked her up and tossed her over your shoulder, bouncing up the few steps from the den to the dining room.

you and kiki had left the table after you’d eaten so the pros could talk hero stuff. you much preferred playing heroes than being one.

“do your thing kiki,” you stage whispered, plopping her down on the ground in front of ochaco.

the girl giggled. “we want more dessert.”

“sad eyes, ki,” you whispered.

“pleassseeee,” kiki begged, giving her best puppy dog eyes.

deku gave in too quickly, “fine just don’t look at me like that,” he reached for the brownie pan.

“atta girl,” you winked at kiki.

“daddy’s such a baby,” the girl giggled.

ochaco laughed, “shh sweetie, don’t say that.”

you grinned at katsuki, but the papers laid on table in front of him were consuming all of his focus. you frowned and sat at the chair beside him. “what are you looking at?”

“tracking a hero killer,” he muttered, the crease in his forehead deepening.

you resisted the urge to touch him, “hero killer?”

“killed three low grade pros. been on the run since,” he replied, not even bothering to look up at you.

“and you’re trying to find them?” bakugo nodded in response. you blinked. “with a whole team, right? you can’t just go after him by yourself.”

bakugo was silent.

“katsuki-“

“auntie!” kiki pulled on your pant leg, chocolate smeared on her face. “can we play heroes again?”

“sure, kiki, i’ll be down in a second,” you tried your best to beam at the girl. you gave bakugo a look of *we’ll talk about this later.*

ochaco cooed after you were out of earshot, “i love her so much, katsuki. so does kiki. did you hear her call her auntie? adorable.”

katsuki was silent, staring at the papers spread out in front of him.

“what’s wrong kacchan?” deku asked.

“don’t tell her anything about this.”

…

appleofmypie posted a photo.

appleofmypie: long live queen kiki and her royal servant @dynamight

notdylanrylant commented “YOU MADE AN ACCOUNT AND ITS PUBLIC”

notdylanrylant commented “giggling at how you and ki are cheesing in your princess crowns while bakugo is scowling at a literal child”

officaluravity commented “we already miss you!”

procreati commented “ugh too cute!”

redddriottt and 395.2k others liked your photo.

…

“jesus fucking christ woman,” bakugo gaped. “chew your damn food.”

“too good,” you mumbled between bites. you plopped down on the couch. you winced as you set your bowl down on the coffee table.

“your shoulder still bothering you?” bakugo asked, sitting down beside you with his own bowl.

“yeah, i don’t know what happened,” you rolled it back, quickly leaning back over your bowl. “did you have a good wednesday?”

bakugo grunted, “best part was scaring off the paps.”

you rolled your eyes. bakugo had scared off a single guy with a camera in a car parked outside the bakery when he came to pick you up. there was a crowd on monday after your picture went viral, but they’d slowly dwindled down to one. “yes, thank you. and thank you for dinner. did the design team like the brownies?”

it was bakugo’s turn to roll his eyes. “yeah, they fuckin adore you.”

you smiled smugly. “because i gave them great ideas. can i come back sometime soon?”

“sure,” bakugo said, keeping his eyes on the tv. he was watching a report on the public poll results for hero popularity.

“are you worried?” you asked quietly, leaning back against the couch.

bakugo turned, his red eyes locked on you, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. he looked…tired.

you chewed on the inside of your lip. “truth for a truth, do you still want to be number one?”

he loosened a breath, his big voice so soft, “i don’t know. if i don’t, then i’ve disappointed so many people. what will it all have been for?”

you reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. “you’ve saved so many people, katsuki. no one is disappointed in you. i’m not.” you pulled your fingers away from his skin, immediately missing his warmth.

“your turn. do you think i can be number one?” bakugo avoided your gaze, picking at couch.

“i think so. if being number one is what you truly want, i’ll do everything to make sure it happens.” you smiled, “stop worrying. all might and i are on it.” you stood up, “i’m going to take a shower.”

“all might?” bakugo asked, sitting up.

“yeah,” you paused in your doorway, “he stopped by the bakery today to talk to me.”

“what?” bakugo frowned, watching your back.

you yelled through your closed bedroom door, “he just wanted to talk to me about gala things. he comes by once a month.” you opened your door, a towel wrapped around your body. “don’t look at me like that. he gives me updates on rankings and pr stuff.”

“yeah, but does he pressure you into things?” bakugo asked, tightening his jaw but keeping his eyes on your face. “is that why you posted that photo?”

“he’s pushy and a dick sometimes, but he respects me. i posted the photo because i wanted to. i think we look cute in it. boosting your ratings was just an added benefit.” you walked over to his bedroom, opening the door. “i appreciate your concern but i’m okay. really.”

bakugo sat on the couch, half empty bowl on his lap, counting your steps into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting up, water running through the pipes, your soft hum as you stepped into the water.

it bothered him, that all might had been talking to you without him knowing. all might didn’t see you as a person, just as a pawn. bakugo knew that all might wouldn’t try to hide that from you. and if he upset you with what he said about your relationship or about bakugo…

fuck.

bakugo sighed. he put the dishes in the sink and walked into his bedroom, changed out of his work cargos into sweatpants. he sat on his bed and turned the tv on, but muted it so he could listen to you humming some pop song. it made him smirk. jesus. what was wrong with him?

he kept the tv on mute after you turned the water off. bakugo stayed quiet as you walked in front of him, towel around your wet body, only taking his eyes off the screen to watch you walk out of the room.

you came back in minutes later, wearing a long tshirt down to your knees. “hey,” you ignored him, walking to the bathroom, “can i used some of your pain cream stuff?”

he blinked. “top shelf on the left. go to a chiropractor or something. it’s been bothering you for days.”

you walked out of the bathroom grinning, “damn suks, you got the shoto sponsored one.” you read the label on the tube, “official pain reliever of pro hero shoto.”

bakugo rolled his eyes. “c’mere, i’ll put it on.”

“i can put on my own icy hot,” you grumbled, but you still sat on the right edge of the bed, handing bakugo the balm.

“lay down on your side,” he said, rubbing a glob into his fingers.

you laid down on your side, your back to him, bad shoulder up off the bed.

bakugo was silent as he rubbed the cream into your neck and shoulder, his warm fingers slipping under the neck of your shirt. you could tell he had done this before; he knew where to push and knead, and where to barely touch. “now just lay there and let it dry for a few minutes.”

“mkay,” you mumbled, your eyes drifting closed.

…

bakugo said your name quietly. “it’s dry. you can get up.” he said your name again, sitting up to touch your shoulder.

“are you asleep?” he knew it was dumb to ask. obviously you were asleep, your cute little pouty lips and shut eyes a dead giveaway.

bakugo huffed out a small sigh, sitting up to grab the folded blanket at the end of the bed. he draped the fluffy orange blanket over you. he slid underneath his sheets, pulling on the chain of the light beside his bed.

the bed was a king. you were on the very edge. there was at least a foot of space between the two of you and the layer of sheets you were on top and he was under. bakugo could manage. right?

…

bakugo woke with a start. you were beside him, tucked into a half ball, blanket up to your chin, laying right where you were when he put that blanket over you.

he was there too; his sheets twisted around his waist, chest up against your back, an arm tossed over your hip, fucking spooning you. his phone beeped. it was thursday.

“fuck.”

…

you stumbled out of bakugo’s bedroom, blinking at the bright lights.

bakugo stood at the stove, poking at something in a pan.

“hey, i’m sorry i fell asleep. wait,” you frowned, “kirishima? where’s katsuki?”

kiri turned from the stove. “he had to leave for a mission. i’ll be driving you to and from work until he gets back saturday.”

“mission? what mission? not the hero killer one, right?”

kirishima lowered his eyes to the sizzling pan. “im not sure. he left a note on the coffee table for you.”

you frowned and padded over to the table.

‘bet i can get more likes than you.. don’t miss me too much.’

“what’s he talking about? likes?” you grumbled.

“look at your phone.”

4:12am @dynamight tagged you in a photo

holy shit.

it was the picture from poker night. you’d never gone back and really looked at it.

you sat on bakugo’s lap, your knees tucked between his, laughing for the camera with a drink in your hand. his hand was thrown around your waist, fingers resting against your bare thigh, skimming the edge of your too short dress.

bakugo was looking at you, eyes focused on your own, his face completely blank except for the smallest upturn in his lips. no one else could have conveyed so much in so little. it was almost too intimate for you to look at, your cheeks burned.

dynamight: told you so.

proherodeku and 1.2m others liked this post.

an/// been over 6 months since i posted, srry for the delay but i hope u still love me

tag list: @cathwritestragediesnotsins @lack-lust-3r @katsukiswifesblog @lmorg149 @monaypo1 @lovleywho @stxrrielle @urfavb1ch @boopjuice @lotionlamp @sp1derm4nluver

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tigerlilla · 8 months

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hey <3

missed u and writing but i’m back with a new chapter of act like you like me!

#act like you like me #tigerlillawrites #tigerlilla

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tigerlilla · 1 year

Text

meeting mitsuya

mitsuya x reader one shot sfw

it was a dreary tuesday afternoon. the shop was empty; you’d had only two customers all day. you liked the quiet days like these. that’s why you started working at mood fabrics- it was quiet.

on slow days like today, you’d play your playlist over the speaker system. it was an odd collection of obscure british grunge mixed with classical, hyper pop, taylor swift, and sad indie songs. it all worked together, in your mind.

you sat at the front counter, crocheting your latest sweater. it was a bit ironic-you worked at a fabric store, but you much preferred working with yarn. you could never manage to sew in a straight line.

who would ride a motorcycle in the rain, you thought, hearing the loud engine coming down the street. you looked up at the bike approached, watching as it pulled against the yellow curb right in front of the store. your eyes traveled back down to your crochet. it was quite typical-people would park in front of the store to go someplace nearby. you secretly enjoyed watching their cars get towed.

the bell above the door rang. you looked up only to see the biker pull off his white helmet, a purple mullet falling into place on his head. his face wore a bored expression, a small frown on his lips.

you didn’t get the chance to say anything, he was already headed for the back. you stayed sitting at the counter, scanning the aisles for his purple hair, his black jacket, the sound of his heavy boots.

it didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for. he was on his way back up to the counter before you could fully register what was going on. it wasn’t often you got men in the store, much less biker men with leather jackets and a knife hooked on his back pocket.

“two yards of each, please,” he said, placing two bolts of fabric down on the counter.

“did you find everything all right?” you ask, laying his fabric out. it was a pink paisley pattern.

“yeah. where’s rob?” he asks, glancing around the store.

“um, he only works mornings. do you need something? i can take a message or…”

“oh,” the man frowned, “it’s fine. i usually come by before school but i was running late today,” the man laughs lightly.

“you’re a student?” you ask, folding his first fabric. the white markings on his black jacket seem familiar.

“no, uh, i was taking my sisters to school. this fabric is actually for dresses for them.”

“you sew dresses for your sisters?” you ask.

“yeah,” he smiles, “they always bug me to make ‘em stuff.”

“that’s sweet.” you’re confused by him. he rides a motorcycle, yet he’s making frilly dresses for his sister. thick rings complement his black nails, but contrast his fuzzy cardigan.

he nods, hands in his pockets.

you cut his last fabric in silence, folding it and sliding it into the bag.

“i like the music,” he notes. “it’s an interesting mix.”

you look up, “thank you.” ‘back to the old house’ plays over the speaker.

“i like the mix of morrissey and taylor swift. it works, somehow,” he says.

you pause, looking at him. “that’s what i’ve always said.”

the man laughs, his lilac eyes squinting. it makes your stomach twist.

“your total is 30 dollars,” you say, placing his last yard of fabric in his bag.

the expression on the man’s face shifts, “thirty for six yards? that’s not right.”

“you got a discount,” you smile.

the man raises an eyebrow.

“employee discount,” you explain. “i never use it so…” you hand him the bag.

“maybe i should start coming in the afternoons,” the man smiles, “you’re way better than rob. plus, i have to come back and hear more than two songs of your playlist.”

you laugh, your cheeks slightly warming.

“y/n,” he says, reading your name tag, “i’ll see you later.”

the man placed his helmet over his purple hair and walked out the door. you watched as he placed his bag of fabric under the seat of his bike. he was on his bike speeding away before the engine had fully started.

you finally let the smile you’d been trying to hide break free. you giggled softly and looked down at the money he handed you. you hadn’t even checked to make sure it was the right amount. something about that man made you not want to look away.

that was the day you met takashi mitsuya, and since then, you’ve never stopped looking.

#mitsuya #mitsuya imagines #tokrev mitsuya #mitsuya tr #mitsuya scenarios #tokyo revengers mitsuya #toman mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya hcs #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x y/n #mitsuya fluff #soft mitsuya #tokyo revengers takashi mitsuya #tokyo rev fluff #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers

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tigerlilla · 1 year

Note

brb writing a silly little story for this

Uncle Bakugou to Kirishima’s kids and Kiri’s kids favorite hero is Dynamight so imagine he comes over and they all go “uncle Dynamight!!” With their cute little Dynamight shirts on and action figures and Kiri is sulking as he whispers “traitors” before looking at Bakugou and going “I can’t believe you stole my kids from me! 😭”

This is SO cute, but I feel like Kiri would want his kids being Dynamight fans because he’s right there with them wearing Dynamight merch all the time.

Kirishima literally gets pouty if Bakugou brings his kids new Dynamight merch before it’s released and he doesn’t get any. So Bakugou always has to bring things for Kiri too🥺😂

But imagine Bakugou babysitting Kirishima’s kids while he goes out with his wife, or goes to work. And he takes them to the cinema, or bowling or something? And he ends up meeting you?🥺

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tigerlilla · 1 year

Text

crying about ending act like you love me

i never thought i would be returning to my bakugo era and then write a fucking fic 😭😭 would you guys kill me if i wrote two more chapters 😭😭😭

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tigerlilla · 1 year

Text

i be in his dm’s saying he’s prettyyyyy

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tigerlilla · 1 year

Text

happy valentine’s day!!! shamelessly reposting my own work because paper rings is the perfect vday song and mitsuya is my forever valentine <3 luv u all!!

paper rings

a mitsuya x reader fic

based off the song “paper rings” by taylor swift! gender neutral reader

“good morning.”

“it’s a little after midnight,” you reply, pulling back so you can look up at him. you’re curled up next to him, head on his chest, reading a book you picked up a few days ago with your side lamp turned on.

mitsuya takashi grins at you, eyes still heavy with sleep, all lazy muscles and bed head. “sorry, i meant to stay up and wait for you.”

“it’s okay. it was long night at work, i had to stay late,” you sigh. “i was just reading a bit before i go to bed.”

he tilts the book you have in your hands back so he can read the title. mitsuya raises an eyebrow, “since when do you read about the idiosyncrasies of western fashion?”

“since you left it on my nightstand,” you stretch up and kiss the tip of his nose. “i like reading what you read. a book club of two.”

mitsuya hums, “cute.”

“i’m making food,” you declare, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

mitsuya grabs your arm.

you turn to look at him, still laying in bed, looking up at you like a puppy.

“i come too,” he mumbles.

“that’s sweet of you,” you cross your arms, “but no. you’ll just stand there and watch me, waiting to poke my butt when i least expect it.”

he grins and every crooked grin he’s ever given you flashes through your mind. “fine, i’ll stay here and be lazy.” he drops your arm only to pinch your ass.

“takashi!” you swat at his hand, smiling at him before you leave the room. his laughter rings behind you.

you hum to yourself and you get out the typical late night breakfast things you use; toast, granola, fruit, butter. you turn on the toaster, the image of mitsuya’s grin keeping you smiling. his smile is exactly how it was the day you met.

…

you pushed your bike down the sidewalk, rolling your eyes at yourself. you knew being out after dark downtown was just asking for trouble. but you’d lost track of time, completely absorbed in-

“nice legs!”

you quickened your pace. talking to creeps was not something you wanted to do today. you spotted a convenience store on the corner. you quickly headed into the safety of the well lit building.

you pushed your bike onto the sticky linoleum floor. the last thing you needed was your bike to get stolen.

the store was empty except for a group in the chip aisle being loud. you rolled your eyes and continued on to the refrigerators at the back of the store.

“shut up, mitsuya,” someone yelled. again, you rolled your eyes. someone else laughed. you were too tired to deal with this.

you grabbed a juice from the fridge, contemplating fighting the people in the chip aisle for a bag of salt and vinegar chips. you felt like making your taste buds cry.

you wrinkled your nose, something smelled terrible, like sweat and cheap weed.

“excuse me.”

the voice startled you. you hadn’t heard anyone approach.

a man stood by your bike, pointing to a fridge.

“i’m sorry,” you sputtered, tearing your eyes away from his lilac hair. you moved your bike away from the unit he wanted into.

“no worries,” the man said, grabbing a coffee from the fridge.

“a little late for caffeine,” you noted, trying your best to get him to look at you again. you weren’t sure if his hair matched his eyes or if you just made that up.

“a little late for bike riding,” he grinned, turning to you. you forgot all about his eyes. his grin changed his whole face, his skin somehow lightening, the corners of his eyes (they were, in fact, the same light purple shade as his hair) crinkling, the crooked smile on his lips.

“i-“

“mitsuya, hurry the fuck up,” a man called, interrupting your rushed answer.

you turned to look at him. he was tall with a blonde braid down the middle of his head. a shorter blond followed him, a half eaten bag of cheetos in his hands, fake cheese smeared on his face.

“sorry,” the purple haired man, mitsuya, looked at you. “my friends are very impatient.”

“and very high,” you said quietly, wrinkling your nose.

the man laughed. “see you around,” he nodded before leaving.

you bought your chips and drink and left, peddling home quickly.

what a day. you flopped back on your bed, ignoring the clothes and wadded up paper underneath you.

hmm. you pulled out your phone, quickly searching mitsuya on instagram. mitsuya takashi. he smiled up at you from your phone, purple hair and smart ass grin.

how cute. how obnoxious.

…

“babe!” you whisper yell. “i went home and stalked you on the internet after we met.”

his laugh rumbles through the hall.

“i think i even found your address.”

“but i was creepy for saying hi to you.”

…

you walked quickly, trying to avoid the masses of people heading to and from work. of course, today of all days, you had to forget your earbuds.

you shoved your hands deeper into the pockets of your hoodie, your favorite comfort mechanism.

you felt eyes on you and look up to see a familiar blonde braid.

the people from the convenience store.

was the purple haired guy there too?

nevermind. you don’t care.

“gas station!” someone yelled. the short blonde.

you squinted your eyes, continuing on your path avoiding them.

the man with the purple hair stepped out. his grin was still crooked.

you stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, the toe of your shoe hitting it awkwardly.

the man waved, still wearing the stupid smirk. you’d wanted to wipe it right off his face. with your lips. what.

you looked back down at the sidewalk, shake your head, and continue on.

you hoped you’d never see him again. you hoped you’d see him all the time. you hoped you weren’t going insane.

…

mitsuya continues. “maybe i was a bit creepy and that’s why you hated me.”

“nuh uh,” you frown. “i thought your friends were rude and creepy. i avoided them. i liked you.”

“it took me like 3 months to get your name.”

“yeah,” you butter your toast, “because every time i saw you, i was on my way to or from work. it was like you were the stalker.”

you could hear mitsuya’s eye roll all the way in the bedroom, “your walk just happened to cross by draken’s shop, my favorite 7-eleven, and my walk to the studio.”

“making a new friend is mindsuckingly dull and predictable,” your plate your toast. “i definitely didn’t know we would become more than friends.”

“took you three months to even wave back,” mitsuya groans.

you scoff, “more like one..hmm maybe two… no, you’re right, it was three.”

“you finally gave in to my charm and wit and endless talent,” mitsuya’s words carried a smile.

“no, i thought your face was pretty.” you head back to the bedroom, your plate in your hand.

“yeah, that too,” mitsuya replies.

you walk back into the bedroom, handing mitsuya a slice of plain toast, his favorite

“thanks, baby,” he says, kissing your temple. “what got you reminiscing?”

“just thinking,” you smile, sitting next to him on the bed. your curl up against him, his arm instinctively going around you. you pick back up your/mitsuya’s book and bite into your toast.

“mm, i like that,” mitsuya points at the oversized patchwork coat on the page. “i’ll make something similar for you this winter.”

you hum in approval. “you always make me cute clothes in the winter.”

“i like winter fashion, and some of my favorite memories of us took place during the winter,” mitsuya smiles, pulling you into a kiss.

“you are such a sap,” you groan, but you can’t help but smile. he’s right. you love the winter because of him.

…

“is that a pool?” mitsuya asked, looking out the large hotel windows.

the two of you were on your way to visit his sister at her school, a small college with an average annual snowfall of 3 feet. mitsuya had dragged you along, claiming his sister would adore his new friend and she could use help fixing up her new apartment. you’d been driving all day, excited to finally have your eyes focus on something besides the car in front of you.

“shhh, it’s late. someone’s going to make a noise complaint,” you frowned.

“i knew the outdoor hot tub was open but the pool too?” mitsuya stared out the window, looking at the piles of snow shoveled and pushed beside the sidewalks.

“takashi,” you sighed, setting your book down on your hotel bed, “don’t you dare say what i think you’re going to say.”

he perched on the end of his bed across the room, already sliding on his shoes.

you sigh dramatically, standing up to get shoes of your own. you grabbed towels from the bathroom before padding after him through the hall and down the stairs.

mitsuya smiled at you. ugh.

“this is a terrible idea. you’re going to get hypothermia,” you narrowed your eyes.

“shhh,” mitsuya hushed you, quietly opening the back door out to the patio area.

it was freezing. the cold wind blasted through your clothes, numbing you from the inside out.

“it’s cold as fuck!” mitsuya stood in front of the pool, that stupid grin on his stupid face. he promptly pulled down his pants and took off his hoodie. he stood there, watching and waiting for you to follow, his chest pale in the moonlight.

you rolled your eyes, copying him. you shivered.

mitsuya grinned at you, eyes quickly taking over your almost naked body. he turned and jumped, resurfacing above the water with a loud whoop.

you laughed at his joy. you couldn’t help yourself. you jumped in after him.

mitsuya’s arms found you underwater, pulling you up to him. he held you close to him, sharing your giggled breaths. “i didn’t know if you’d jump in.”

“i’m always with you,” you smile softly. “but can we please, go to the hot tub now. there’s literally ice floating in this pool.”

…

“oh my god! your fingers actually turned blue?” luna asked you, her eyes wide.

mitsuya groaned, “yes, and i’ve already apologized a million times.”

“you should dump him,” luna giggled.

“i told you were aren’t like that,” mitsuya said, a little harsher than you expected.

“sorry, big brother,” luna put her hands on her hips, “i forgot you are a total piece of shit who would never be in a relationship because everyone is way better than you.”

mitsuya laughed, “didn’t you get dumped like two weeks ago?”

“fuck off, takashi!” luna screeched, throwing herself at her brother.

mitsuya easily caught her, lifting her up and spinning her around and then putting her in a headlock.

you raised an eyebrow at the two of them, “i love the sibling banter, but i came here to work.”

mitsuya released luna, but not before messing up her hair.

“i picked up some paint that i want to use in the bedroom,” luna said, glaring at her brother. “it’s already in there.”

“i can work on that,” you volunteered, looking for a way to leave them alone.

you walked to the back bedroom, quickly finding the paint and the supplies. you got to work, liking the soothing stroke of the brush.

you were halfway around the room when mitsuya knocked on the door.

“hey,” he smiled, leaning against the door frame.

“hello,” you raised an eyebrow. “aren’t you supposed to be carrying the heavy stuff?”

“i wanted to make sure you weren’t high off paint fumes, yet,” mitsuya gave you his infamous grin.

“nope, not yet.” you smile, “although, this blue color reminds me of something else that was blue…” you wiggled your fingers.

mitsuya narrowed his eyes, quickly walking over to the open paint bucket and pushing his hand inside.

“what are you-“ you screeched, “takashi!”

he laughed while light blue paint dripped down your nose.

you took the roller in you hand and rolled it all up and down his shirt.

“you are such a-“

you ran around the room, grabbing at each other with paint on your hands and in your hair.

mitsuya tackled you, scooping you up over his shoulder. you laughed, rubbing paint all over his back. he sat you down on the ground, both of you shaking with laughter.

you locked eyes with him, willing him closer. he leaned into you, eyes smiling. you could smell his cologne, the soap from the shower he took this morning, the pancake he ate for breakfast. you cupped your hand around his cheek, smiling at him. quickly, you snuck your other hand up, smearing a streak of paint across his forehead.

mitsuya laughed, pushing you up against the wall and finger painting your face. he quickly stopped, catching sight of luna standing in the door way.

“are you sure you’re just friends?” she squinted at you both.

you just laughed.

…

you set the book back on the nightstand and adjust a picture of you and mitsuya smiling at the camera. it’s in a cute frame mitsuya made you when he tried out wood working. you peer out the window. “look at the moon.”

“late night stroll?” mitsuya asks, already pulling you out of bed.

you open your mouth to grumble, but you quickly close it and smile.

you pull on an old pair of sweatpants and slip a sweater over your shirt. your shoes are waiting for you at the door.

“i saw they-who-must-not-be-named at work today,” you grumble as you walk out the door behind mitsuya.

“oh, j-“

“shh! don’t say their name!” you hiss.

mitsuya chuckles, “what did they have to say?”

you roll your eyes, “nothing, just came to act surprised when they saw me even though they knew i worked there.”

“typical.” you walk on the sidewalk beside him, absentmindedly walking around the block.

“just wanted to remind you that i am frequently tormented by your ex,” you bat your lashes at him, “and that i should be rewarded for not brutally wringing their neck in the middle of target.”

mitsuya leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “good job, babe.”

you smile, blushing at your cheap reasoning for a kiss.

mitsuya leans over again, pressing a kiss to your temple, “it’d be okay if you kill them, though.”

you stop walking, turning to him. you beam at him, your smile as big and bright as the moon. “i’ve been waiting my whole life for you to say that.”

he kisses you a third time, this time on your lips, still smiling in time with his.

you pull away smiling, “you’re the one that i want.”

takashi smiles, his forehead against yours, “you’re the only one i’ll ever want.”

you smile at him, “forever?”

“forever,” mitsuya nods.

“i’d marry you right now,” you smile, high off the night. you get an idea and pull him along down the sidewalk.

“where are we going?” mitsuya asks.

“to get married,” you reply, a smile on your lips.

“what do you mean?”

“just trust me,” you say, walking faster and pulling him behind you. you see it and your face lights up. you can’t help but giggle.

“the convenience store?” mitsuya asks, already grinning.

“our convenience store,” you smile. you pull him inside behind you, heading straight for the soda machine. you grab two straws, ripping the straws out and throwing them away. you take the straw paper and twist it and shape it into a ring.

mitsuya quickly understands what you’re doing. “wait, stop, this isn’t… i have a ring for you. it’s in the apartment. it’s shiny and bright just like you love.”

you twist your fingers in his, pressing the paper ring into his palm, “i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings.”

mitsuya takes your face in his hands and kisses you. once, twice, three times because everything is better than alright.

you pull away and slide the paper ring onto his finger, “you’re the one that i want in everything. in picture frames beside my bed, in dirty dreams that keep me sane, in these stupid paper rings. i want to spend every moment with you. i want to drive away with you, i want your dreary monday blues, i want your arms around me. i want you, mitsuya takashi.”

mitsuya slides the ring on your finger, “you’re the one i want. the only one i ever want.”

you kiss him, “what a long night.”

“it’s gonna be alright,” takashi kisses you.

“i’ve waited my whole life,” you press your lips against his, his sweet grin mixing with yours. “i do.”

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tigerlilla · 1 year

Text

IN MODERATION

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.

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tigerlilla · 1 year

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all your cute comments have me squealing and kicking my feet

thank you <3 i love you, i appreciate you

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tigerlilla · 1 year

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THATS MY FAVORITE LINE TOO I WAS LAUGHING SO HARD WHEN I WROTE IT 😭 i was hoping someone would find it funny <3 there’s so so so much i want to include, i swear to god i could make this fic 15 chapters long but i have to end it before it hurts too bad that i cant end it 😭

thank you for your nice words <333

act like you like me

(part three) two one

“what is this place?” you frowned, stepping out of bakugo’s car.

bakugo ignored your question, instead placing his hand on the small of your back, his fingers pushing you towards the front door. you stood in front of what looked like a rundown club, the windows tinted black and a suspicious sign in front that had been painted over.

he opened the front door and followed you inside. it was dark, can lights and candles giving some light to the bar. a few people sat at the bar, all quiet and looking down. there was a table in the corner with a small group of people talking quietly, their faces hidden from you. bakugo led you past the bar and to a small room off the main space.

bakugo slipped open the door to the room, sliding in and pulling you in behind him. the laughter in the room stopped as you blinked, eyes adjusting from the dark hall.

there was a poker table in the middle of the room, pro-heroes sitting around it and staring at you. pinky, uravity, chargebolt, red riot, cellophane, shoto and creati, even deku, current number one.

you pulled on bakugo’s sleeve.

“katsuuuukkii!!!” mina squealed, hopping up from her seat and tackling bakugo in a huge hug. she quickly turned her attention to you, “oh my god, you are so much cuter in person!” she hugged you too, not noticing your frown at her backhanded compliment. “‘suki, you bagged a babe. i’m so proud of you!”

“i told you she was a cutie,” dylan chimed in, walking into the room behind you. “everyone, this is-“

“we know who she is,” chargebolt interrupted, waving a hand full of cards at you. “we haven’t even started yet. we can deal you both in.”

you turnned to bakugo, asking under your breath, “what the hell is this?”

“a surprise,” he deadpanned. your left eye twitched.

“a surprise is going to the aquarium or my favorite restaurant, not meeting half the fucking top ten pros in a shitty bar,” you hissed, tuning out the resumed conversation the off-the-clock heroes were having.

“this was dyl-“

dylan called your name from his spot sprawled across kirishima’s lap. “what’s wrong, doll?”

you turned to him, plastering a smile on your face, “nothing! i’m so excited to have been invited. i’ve never played poker before.”

“‘suki can show you,” mina said, gesturing you over to a chair next to her. “you guys have to share a seat so you can share a hand too.” she giggled, her pink curls bouncing. you looked around, there was only one open chair at the table. fucking dylan.

dylan got up from kirishima’s lap, “we’ll get drinks. bakugo, go sit down.” he whisked you away, back out the door and into the dark hall.

“oh my god,” you wheezed. “this is a nightmare. i’m going to embarrass bakugo and myself in front of all his friends.” you wiped a sweaty palm down your face. “this was not a surprise, this was an ambush.” you glared at the model.

dylan winced, “i’m sorry. this was my idea. i thought meeting bakugo’s friends might help…calm your nerves.” he steered you towards the bar.

“the thought was sweet, but dyl, how would meeting some of my childhood icons over a game of cards knowing that they’ve probably read at least five negative articles about me in the past 24 hours calm me down,” you replied, trying to smooth out the crease in your forehead.

dylan frowned, “well, when you put it like that i sound like an asshole.”

“i’m just hoping none of them saw the story about the drug store worker who claims i buy hemorrhoid cream three times a week,” you pull at your temples.

“jesus,” dylan looks horrified. “you don’t actually do that, right?”

“of course not! oh my god, i’m mortified. bakugo’s probably so embarrassed by me-“

“stop. calm down. you’re okay. everyone in that room has had their fair share of scandals, true and false. no one will judge you. and if bakugo was embarrassed by you, he wouldn’t have brought you here.” he handed you a drink the bartender had wordlessly given to him, “drink. it’ll actually calm your nerves.”

you nodded, gulping down the fruity thing in your hand. dylan handed you another.

“good girl,” he poked your cheek. “now, let’s go back in there, take pictures with our hot boyfriends, and pretend we know lots about poker. it really is fun, mkay?”

“okay,” you gulped down your anxiety, “i’m just going to get bakugo a drink.”

“already on it,” dylan winked, passing you a beer.

dylan led you back to the room, offering you an encouraging smile. “we’re back!” he sang, entering the room.

bakugo sat at the poker table, occupying the last open seat, with cards splayed on the table in front of him. he accepted the beer with a small nod.

you stood behind his seat, trying to listen in to the heroes’ conversation.

dylan gave you the strangest look from his spot across the table. “what are you doing?” he mouthed. “sit down!”

“where?” you mouthed back.

he rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed you weren’t understanding. “oh wait,” he said aloud, “i need to get a cute picture of you two before i forget.” he pulled out his phone, aiming it at you.

you inched closer to bakugo’s chair, leaning down closer to him.

“jesus, what are you, siblings?” dylan sneered, gesturing you to scoot closer.

you blinked.

bakugo sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

again, you blinked. you were sitting on bakugo’s thigh, your knees tucked in between his.

dylan squealed, “oh my god, i got the funniest picture. so cute!”

you tried not to move, not to focus on your proximity to bakugo, the way you could feel his thigh tense underneath you, his arm around your waist.

“relax,” bakugo said quietly into your ear, his breath warm against your cheek.

it did not help. your face was hot, every single nerve in your body was on edge, you felt like you were on fire.

“so how long have you two been dating?” creati asked from the seat next to you.

you could kiss her for distracting you. you had practiced how this conversation would pan out. “two months,” you smiled, “but it seems a lot longer.”

“and how did you meet?” she asked. everyone at the table quieted down to hear your response.

bakugo huffed. “none of yer business, damn-“

“well, i’m sure that you know this by now, but i work at a bakery and i’ve been working there for over a bit so i know our customers pretty well. this guy walks in with a baseball cap and his hood up and sunglasses, and it was cloudy outside, so i immediately knew something was up. he comes up to the counter and orders four croissants; one fruit, one cheese, one chocolate, and one plain.” for the first time all night, you’re not nervous. “he pays with the shiniest credit card i have ever seen in my life. then i put them all into one big box, but he barks that he wants them all in separate bags. so i take them out of the box and put each into a bag. once there’s three bags on the counter, he just takes them and bolts. i put the last one in the bag and look up to give it to him and he’s just gone.

“there was no one else in the shop and i figure he couldn’t have gotten far, so i go after him thinking that he might give me a good tip. he was already two blocks away. so im running after him yelling, “sir, sir,” and he’s just completely oblivious. he pulls down his hood and i swear that i know that spiky blonde hair. finally, he turned around and i caught up to him. he acts like he doesn’t recognize me so he pulls off his sunglasses to squint at me in that condescending way of his. i immediately recognize who it is, but i’m just standing there holding out the bag with the croissant like an idiot. bakugo took the bag and left, without even a thank you.”

chargebolt snorted, “sounds like bakugo. how’d he win you over?”

now you have to lie. and that makes you feel like shit.

“someone took a picture of us on the street, and of course it was taken out of context. the next day, bakugo comes back to make me sign some paper about the situation and then he just kept coming back. i would like to say that he came back because of me, but i think he likes my fig bars more than me.”

“a modern day fairy tale,” pinky sighed dreamily. “you’re lucky she chased after you, or you would be sad and lonely for the rest of your life,” she frowned at bakugo.

you turned to catch his expression, his face rolling with anger. he still had his arm wrapped lazily around your waist, even though you had begun to relax against him.

kirishima snorted, “are you dating him for the money? the fame? surely not the winning personality? ”

you smirked, “somewhere deep down inside his ridiculously muscular chest is a heart the size of a pea. and i fuckin love peas.”

…

you laughed, smiling at the women beside you.

“mina, you have not changed since high school,” jirou sighed, rolling her eyes.

“i was perfect then, perfect now,” mina winked, throwing cards down on the table.

“fuck, mina! how do you still not understand how to play this game,” denki whined, frustrated that his coaching wasn’t paying off.

“what’s the point when momo wins every time,” mina groaned, shooting daggers at momo, who smiled proudly while laying down her cards.

bakugo grumbled, tossing his cards on the table. “whatever. we’ve gotta go, the princess has work tomorrow morning.” he added under his breath, “‘n my leg’s fucking asleep.”

you slid off his lap, grabbing the jacket draped over the chair.

“byyyyeeee,” dylan sang, drunk and laying on the ground.

you giggled and waved your goodbyes as bakugo bro hugged his friends.

only once you were in bakugo’s car and on the way home did you drop your smile. “that was fun, but i’m exhausted,” you whined, rubbing at your sore cheeks. “you’re probably tired too, especially since you’re up past your bedtime.”

“i don’t have a bedtime,” bakugo growled. “i’m a grown man.”

you smiled, “seriously though, thank you for bringing me. i had a lot of fun.”

bakugo said nothing, half his face hidden in the shadow of the night.

“your friends are really nice,” you added.

bakugo scoffed, “you’re just glad fucking icy hot was there.”

“you are so bad at disguising your jealousy,” you replied, willing your face to remain a mask of indifference.

“i’m not fuckin’ jealous,” bakugo grunted, not meeting your eyes in the rear view mirror.

“mm,” you hummed, picking at your nails.

“don’t fuckin’ do that shit,” bakugo snarled, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“what shit?” you asked, giving him your best doe face.

“yer whole fuckin’ act,” he growled, the light from the street lamps reflecting off the white of his teeth. “don’t act like you don’t give a shit.”

“drop your asshole delinquent act then,” you hissed. “no one thinks your “yer” is cute. i fucking hate it when you drop the end off words.”

bakugo ground his teeth and turned into his garage. “damn, you’re fucking frustrating.”

“you’re fucking frustrating! i make a joke and you get all mad and start going “yer” and “oi.” it drives me crazy.”

bakugo glared at you, huffing and puffing.

“what are you doing?” you started to laugh, “did you just fucking puff out your chest?”

“what?” bakugo’s face twisted. “i fucking didn’t.”

you continued to laugh, stitches running up your sides.

“oi! stop fucking laughing,” he puffed, face red.

“there! you just did it!” you laughed. you lowered your voice and growled, “oi!” you cracked up again, doubling over in the passenger seat while bakugo glared at you.

“don’t see what’s funny,” bakugo grumbled, pretending to be annoyed, but you could see the red tinge to his ears and the small curve of his lips he was trying so hard to hide. “i’m going in,” he huffed, yanking your stuffed backpack out of the backseat.

you followed him inside, wiping the tears from your eyes. you were quiet in the elevator, quiet as he unlocked the door, and still quiet as bakugo passed you your bag outside the door to the bedroom you were borrowing.

you took the bag, “thank you.” he grunted. you dumped the contents of your bag on the wooden floor, digging out the pair of shorts you were eager to change into.

bakugo paused in your doorway, frowning before he left and slammed the door shut on his own bedroom.

whoever said women were overly dramatic had clearly never met bakugo.

you ignored his sour attitude. although, he wasn’t grumpy until you picked on him. you changed into shorts and a tshirt and spread your things across the floor searching for your toothbrush. you found it and continued on with your nightly routine, taking over the counter of katsuki’s guest bathroom.

when you were done, you lightly knocked on bakugo’s door. “katsuki? i just wanted to say thank you for-“ he opened the door, his freshly washed face inches from yours. “oh, hi.” you stepped away, stumbling against your door frame. “anyways, i wanted to thank you for tonight. i had a lot of fun and i appreciate the effort you put into it.” there. you offered an olive branch of peace.

bakugo crossed his arms, leaning back against the frame of his door. he’d changed too, swapping his black dress pants for black sweatpants and a band tshirt. you blinked. he took his red eyes off you, glancing out the window into the night. “it was mostly dylan’s idea. i fuckin’ hate poker. i‘m shit at it. don’t tell ‘em though.”

you smiled, “i’ll trade you a secret for a secret.” he turned his gaze back to you. you met those fire red eyes straight on, maybe the drinks were kicking in. “i love it when you slip into your bumpkin hoodlum accent. it’s super cute.” you slid back into your room, never breaking eye contact. “good night, katsuki,” you nearly whispered, closing the door gently.

you tiptoed across the floor, quietly crawling onto your bed and burying your head into your pillow.

what had you gotten yourself into?

…

bakugo stood rooted in that spot, leaning cockily against the door, arms crossed.

he stood there, completely still, brain going a million miles a minute, trying to process what happened. the whole night. the past hour. the last minute.

why did he care so much about the way you smiled at him at the stupid poker night? why did he care about the way you snapped back at his snarky comments and then always found a way to take it back? why did he care if he could still feel you leaning back against him, completely at ease, making jokes with his friends?

why did he care about you at all?

…

“good morning, dylan,” you practically sang, your phone tucked between your shoulder and chin, your hands full with a tray of cranberry scones.

“you seem to be in a good mood,” dylan beamed, you could tell through the phone. “my plan worked wonderfully.”

“yeah, it did. there wasn’t a mob ready to crucify me this morning, thank god. and, katsuki insisted on driving me to work at six in the morning and he let me eat a bagel in his car. i don’t know what you said to him, but it worked.” you sighed blissfully.

this morning had been unbelievably nice. bakugo had a bagel on a plate for you the moment you stepped out of your bedroom and had refused to let you ride the bus. he was still his brash, arrogant self, but he was being thoughtful, something you’d seen more and more of in him. bakugo was quiet the whole drive over, not saying anything about the crumbs you got on his leather seats. he even offered to say the morning with you at the bakery, just to be sure there weren’t any crazy fans. you refused, of course. his job was more important. but the thought was nice. more than nice.

“what do you mean?” dylan asked. “i didn’t say anything to him.”

“you told me that kirishima was going to talk to him about his attitude with me,” you frowned. “that was your plan.”

“no,” you could hear dylan’s confusion. “my plan was to post a cute picture of you and bakugo last night and have it blow up.”

you arranged a plate of lemon scones for the countertop. “what?”

“i posted it late last night. i woke up this early just to get your reaction. go look.”

you did a quick search of your’s and bakugo’s name and there it was.

BAKUGO AND GF BREAK THE INTERNET AGAIN WITH PIC POSTED BY INFLUENCER FRIEND

you scrolled down to the picture. you were sitting on bakugo’s knee, turned into him, his arm wrapped around your waist. you smiled widely for dylan while bakugo gave the camera his typical stern frown. although somehow it was softer, less angry and more protective.

“i sent all the pictures to you and bakugo,” dylan added, obviously pleased with himself.

“thank you,” you replied, scrolling through the pictures he sent. one caught your eye, but you’d have to look at it later. “someone’s coming in, so i gotta go, but thank you so much. i appreciate it, dyl.”

the smile you gave the customer walking in the door wasn’t your typical early morning smile, strained and tired, but one that complimented the pink spread across your cheeks and the glint in your eye.

…

“hi,” you smiled at the blonde across the counter. “how was work?”

“fine,” bakugo replied, looking at you oddly. “why does yer face look like that?”

“i made you something,” you beamed up at him, holding up a plate with a brownie sitting in the middle.

he took the plate from you, face full of skepticism. bakugo took a bite before quickly spitting it back out on the plate.

“what?” your face sank. “is it that bad?”

“jesus fuck,” katsuki choked out. he stepped around you and went to the sink, drinking straight out of the faucet.

“really?” you felt the heat rise behind your eyes. “i’m sorry, i thought… i’m sorry.”

“what the hell was that?” bakugo gasped, leaning over the edge of the sink, the collar of his post work workout tshirt completely soaked. “are you sure you can bake?”

“i was trying to make spicy brownies,” you said quietly, trying to not burst into tears.

“what did you put in them?” he replied, eyes locked on you.

“cayenne and chili powder,” your lip shook. “and pop rocks.”

he looked at you like you were insane. maybe if the situation was different, you would have laughed at his face; his squinted eye, raised eyebrow, fierce frown.

“i was trying to make a dynamight brownie,” you admitted.

“too spicy and the popping candy is terrible,” bakugo spit into the sink, the pop of the candy sizzling in the basin.

“i’m sorry,” you frowned, turning back to the kitchen. you had twenty minutes until close.

bakugo caught the edge of your sleeve, “try again tomorrow, less spice.” his red eyes looked sad, like he knew his words sunk too deep this time.

you nodded, heading off to finish your work.

the two of you spent the rest of the night in a quiet peace. bakugo drove you back to his apartment after you closed the bakery, he made dinner while you flipped through a magazine on the couch, and he even let you turn on the food network tv channel after dinner. you’d offered to wash the dishes, but he had some fancy dishwasher that took care of it all.

“hey,” bakugo poked his head out of his bedroom, “i’m going to bed. night.”

“good night,” you gave him a small smile.

…

“can’t taste the spice at all,” bakugo frowned.

you groaned, turning to dump the pan in the trash.

“wait, i’ll take those to work tomorrow,” he stopped you, reaching for the treats.

you rolled your eyes, handing him the pan with a bite missing from the center.

you went back to work, making sure the pastries were ready to be put out in the morning and everything was where it should be. bakugo had scared the high schooler who helped out in the evenings, so he stuck to the back while you cleaned the front. poor thing.

you sighed once you slid into bakugo’s car, the leather seats the epitome of comfort. “how was your day?” you asked the pro.

“shit,” bakugo sighed, fingers right around the steering wheel. “fuckin kid almost drowned and my suit fuckin ripped.”

“don’t you have a backup?” you asked.

“yeah, but this one’s my favorite,” he pouted. you smiled at the number 3 hero whining about which costume was his favorite. “don’t laugh at me.” he growled.

“your suit, it’s polyester?” you asked. he nodded, glancing at you in the rear view mirror. “what about polypropylene? oh no, that burns easily. maybe nomex? it’s like kevlar but moisture wicking and it’s fire resistant. maybe you could reinforce your suit with it in the places with the most wear?”

bakugo turned into the garage. “you can meet with the design team. you’re off thursday?”

“we close at one,” you replied.

“i’ll take you then,” katsuki said, eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he jumped out of the car, already moving for his apartment.

bakugo cooked dinner while you sat at the bar, flipping through the fashion magazine that had been delivered to the bakery this morning. you read the interview with mount lady multiple times, soaking in the details of how her hero costume grew with her.

you switched over to a cookbook while you ate, bakugo on a barstool beside you, thumbing through a stack of forms. you asked him what they all were and he grumbled something about property damage. you didn’t push him.

you put the dishes in the dishwasher, swiping bakugo’s empty plate. “can i take a shower?” you asked, eyes on the blonde.

“you don’t need my permission,” bakugo didn’t raise his eyes from his paper.

so you grabbed a towel from the linen closet before closing the door to your room. you wrapped the towel around your bare body, your soaps in your arms, leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor. you quickly slid from your room to bakugo’s, closing the door behind you.

you eyed his room. it was neater than you expected; the bed made, nightstand clean, floor bare except for a black rug. his bed was massive, big enough for four people at least. most of the rest of his room was taken up by his all might bookshelf. the shelves were floor to ceiling, lined with books, magazines, bobble heads, trading cards, figurines. it was insane.

you moved to his bathroom. the shower was nice; walk in and spacious. his toothbrush sitting on the counter, other items laid out on a cabinet above the toliet. you were impressed.

you moved to the shower, dropping your towel on the ground. you turned the water as hot as it could go. bakugo kept his apartment freezing, claiming that his quirk kept him hot. the warm water was wonderful, you couldn’t help but moan. you were about to take the nicest shower of your entire fucking life.

…

katsuki blinked at the same document he’d been staring at for the past twenty minutes. he was on the first line when he heard you turn on the shower. he hadn’t gotten past that line. the words swam together and all he could focus on was the sound of water running through the pipes. if he really listened he could hear you humming some song he didn’t recognize.

the pro rubbed his eyes, read the first line again. the second line. the third. the shower. the noise was gone. bakugo sat up straighter, glancing at his closed bedroom door.

there you were, trying to quietly slip out of his room, stopping like a deer in headlights noticing his gaze on you. you offered a small smile, rushing into your room, closing the door behind you.

bakugo blinked. he looked back at his papers. he started at the fourth line. reread it. reread it again. again. all he could see was you standing there, his orange towel wrapped around your body, dripping water onto the hardwood floor.

you opened your door and he turned at the sound, red eyes on you once again. you padded back into his room, orange towel in hand. you hung it on the towel bar, next to his green one. his eyes were still on you when you walked back out, glued to where you stood in his doorframe.

“hi,” you said softly, leaning against the door.

katsuki’s eyes traveled down your body, taking in your tank top and sweatpants before flicking back up to your face. “hey,” he replied, voice barely more than a gravel whisper.

“wanna get ice cream?”

…

DYNAMIGHT’S MIDNIGHT SNACK

you smirked at that one. you were back home by 8:30. nothing could get in the way of bakugo’s sleep patterns.

someone had commented, “the snack is that ass!!! he won” which had you in a fit. you took a screenshot and sent it to bakugo.

bakugo: aren’t u supposed to be working?

you: aren’t you supposed to be working?

he didn’t reply.

you: okay i’m sorry please come back im bored out of my mind

bakugo: did u make my brownies?

you: i did but i haven’t tried them yet

“hey.”

you looked up, a smile spreading across your face. you would have recognized that voice anywhere. “i thought you were working.”

bakugo crossed his arms, the muscles rippling. that hero suit really was well designed. you noted that he wasn’t wearing his gauntlets, much to your approval. “‘m on my break.”

you pursed your lips, turning and grabbing the plate off the back counter. you were proud of these. you’d even iced an orange x on the front to match his uniform.

he took a bite, scrunched up his nose, then took another.

“i used cayenne and cinnamon this time. is it better?” you asked, frowning at his silence.

“give me another,” he said through the brownie in his mouth. “please.”

you slid him the whole pan. “i take it they’re good.”

“best fucking brownies,” bakugo grumbled, digging a chunk of out the pan with his bare hands.

you let out a satisfied hum, not bothering to hide your smirk. “oh, and the security company came by and they said that everything would be activated or whatever by friday. they said they’d call you.”

something like anger, or maybe disappointment, flashed in bakugo’s eyes. he quickly turned it off, giving you a nod. “i gotta go. pick you up at five.” he carried the pan out the door with him.

you waved bye to him through the window, blowing him a kiss with a smart ass grin plastered on your face.

final chapter coming soon<3 i’ve missed this story a lot

tag list: @cathwritestragediesnotsins @baby320 @nonomesupposedto @thekaylahub @jasmixs @chuugarettes @luvbug4728 @aceredhairliberal @selfindulgenthoe @atsushiki @sarammaitimo @hannas16

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