Also From Earlier

MORE BAKUGO IM LITERALLY DESPERATE ON MY KNEES FOR YOU

AFTER WORK WITH DAD!KATSUKI

synopsis — pro hero dynamight comes home from work to see his wife, 5 year old son, and his cat

word count — 1.3k

a/n — GIRL I GOTCHU HAHAHAHAH ANYWAYS THIS ONE HAS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR A WHOLE LMAOO

The sun was already beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the Bakugo’s household.

The lights inside were soft and cozy, the living room half littered with tiny action figures, crayon drawings taped proudly on the wall, and a small, fluffy tabby cat curled up on top of the backrest of the couch, tail flickering with mild disinterest

The front door creaked open and in stepped Pro Hero Dynamight, still in partial gear, his gauntlets off and the collar of his hero suit unzipped enough to reveal a bit of sweat-slicked skin and tension across his muscles.

Katsuki Bakugo let out a low grunt as he shut the door behind him, the exhaustion of the day still clinging to his body like the grime from battle.

But then-

“Tch.”

His nose twitched.

“Smells like curry,” he muttered, voice softer now, almost…fond.

He dropped his bag by the entrance and toed off his boots, the sound of sizzling in the kitchen pulling a small, crooked smirk on his face. He moved through the house with ease, pausing only to ruffle the cat’s head in passing.

“Oi, fuzzball,” he mumbled to the cat. “You better not be climbin’ the curtains again.”

The cat meowed lazily, entirely unbothered.

In the kitchen, you stood barefoot in pajama pants and an oversized tee, humming quietly while stirring the curry pot. Katsuki leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with a blank look.

“How long have you been home?” he asked in a rough voice around the edges,

You turned with a smile that made something in his chest ease immediately. “Just an hour ago. How was work?”

“Annoying,” he muttered. “Dumbass villain tried to rob a candy store. A candy store.”

You snorted and turned off the stove. “That poor candy shop owner,” you teased. “Imagine getting screamed at by Dynamight over some stolen lollipops.”

“Damn right,” he smirked, walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “Smelled this shit halfway down the block.”

He paused. “Miss you,” he said in a quieter tone.

Your hand came up to run through his messy, ash-blond hair. “You always say that when you’re hungry.”

“Both kinds,” he muttered against your skin, lips brushing lightly over your shoulder.

Just as things were about to turn a little steamier–

“MOM!”

Katsuki groaned and pulled away, already scowling.

The tiny stampede of footsteps echoed down the hallway before your five-year-old burst into the kitchen like a one-man army. Tousled blond hair that matched his father’s, wide crimson eyes full of fire, and the same scowl permanently etched into his chubby face.

“Mama! Guess what happened at school today!” he shouted, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the living room with more strength than a toddler should have.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” you laughed, shooting Katsuki an apologetic look as you followed. “What happened?”

“I punched Daichi ‘cause he said cats are stupid!”

“Oi—what?!” Katsuki stomped in. “What the hell kinda dumbass logic is that?! You can’t just go punchin’ kids, brat!”

“He started it!” the boy huffed, arms crossed, looking so much like his father you could barely keep a straight face. “He said ‘only girls like cats’ and that boys should like dogs!”

“That's stupid,” you said calmly, kneeling down to ruffle your son’s hair. “But next time, use your words, not your fists.”

“He did use his words, right before he decked the other kid,” Katsuki grumbled, arms folded, glaring at the tiny version of himself.

“’Cause words are slow,” your son shot back.

“You little—!”

The cat chose this moment to leap up onto the arm of the couch and meow loudly, effectively ending the argument. Your son turned and gently picked her up, his tiny face softening instantly.

“Mama, look! Neko-chan missed me.”

Katsuki muttered under his breath, “I bet she was hoping’ for peace and quiet.”

You watched with a fond smile as your son began talking to you about everything he did at school, from painting to snack time to how he could totally climb the jungle gym without help now. All the while, Katsuki stood off to the side, getting progressively more annoyed that his wife was being hogged.

At one point, he leaned in toward you, trying to slide an arm around your waist.

Your son slapped his hand away. “No! I’m telling Mama something important.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth. “She’s my damn wife, you little shit.”

“She’s my Mama!”

“She was mine first-”

“Go shower, Dynamight,” you said calmly, not looking up from the story your son was weaving. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Tch. Fine.” Katsuki turned to leave, growling low, “It’s like talking’ to a wall.”

“Love you too, babe.”

He paused and looked over his shoulder. You caught the faint pink dusting his ears before he disappeared down the hall.

-

Later that evening, the house was quieter.

Your son had finally settled in his room, already snoring softly with the cat curled up by his feet. His little lamp glowed with a soft orange hue, illuminating the scribbled drawings of you, Katsuki, and him all holding hands under a wonky sun.

In the master bedroom, you were curled up against the headboard, book in hand, glasses perched on your nose. The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Katsuki stepped out, a towel draped around his shoulders, steam rolling off his skin.

He ran a hand through his damp hair and padded barefoot over to the bed, crawling in beside you in just a pair of low-slung sweatpants. The scent of your shampoo from earlier was still on his skin.

“Kid asleep?”

“Out cold,” you said, flipping a page. “I think he wore himself out arguing with you.”

“Good.”

He reached over and gently tugged the book from your hands, closing it with one hand and tossing it to the nightstand.

“Hey—”

“You had your moment. Now it’s mine.”

You didn’t protest when he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck again, this time with a little sigh that told you exactly how much he’d needed this.

“Don’t say it,” you murmured with a smile.

“Say what?”

“That you missed me.”

“I wasn’t gonna say it,” he grumbled. “I was just gonna touch you a little.”

You giggled and tilted your head back so you could look at him. “Touch me, huh?”

He leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. None of the fire and explosions the world knew him for. Just warmth. Home. Familiarity.

“You’re the only fuckin’ thing that makes the noise go quiet, y’know?” he said lowly, thumb stroking your cheek.

You reached up and brushed his damp bangs from his forehead. “And you’re the only one who puts up with our mini you throwing tantrums.”

“He gets the yelling from you.”

“Tch.”

There was a moment of silence. His hand slipped beneath your shirt, resting on the curve of your waist, nothing lewd, just comfort. You both lay there, the sound of your son’s faint snores carrying through the baby monitor and the occasional thump of the cat exploring the hallway.

“Still think we’re doing’ okay?” you asked quietly.

Katsuki’s voice was firm. “No one’s got what we’ve got.”

You nodded.

The cat slipped into your room then, hopping up at the foot of the bed and curling into a warm little ball. Katsuki looked down at her and muttered, “Traitor.”

You laughed, rolling into him. “Face it. Everyone loves me the most.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You’re lucky I love you even when you say dumb shit like that.”

You kissed his jaw and whispered, “Love you too, Kats.”

And for the first time that day, Katsuki Bakugo truly relaxed—wrapped up in his two favorite people, a sassy cat, and the one place that felt like peace.

Home.

i'm gonna leave this here..

When he gets jealous

Warnings: Jealous broccoli boy, cursing, slight angst, and slight possessive/protective Izuku, Izuku still has bits of OFA (he doesn't lose it fully.)

Contains: fluff, crack, comfort, oblivious reader. One-sided pining, childhood best friends trope, hopeless romantic Izuku, Third year!AU.

A/n: writers block is so bad and I genuinely wanna write😭 I hope this makes up for the zero activity. But fr I genuinely don't know what this is lmao.

There were three things Izuku did to make sure everyone knew you were his.

Izuku would always get more clingy whenever he was jealous.

He trusted you with every fiber in his being. He just didn't trust the guys who would stare at you as if you were a five course meal, as if you were only an object to own. He hated those types of men.

So when he noticed how you seemed slightly uncomfortable with how the boy was looking at you, he quiete literally swept you off your feet and flew away with you cradled in his arms.

You were perplexed by the sudden action, arms flying around his neck as he used his quirk to fly away. The greenette gave you a sweet grin, holding you tightly against him as you thanked him for helping you; a cute blush on your cheeks that made his grin wider and his heart race even more.

You'd think that once you reached the dorms, he would put you down, but he didn't. Instead, he carried you bridal style to his dorm to hang out.

Hanging out with Izuku was a normal thing. But him refusing to let you go while clinging onto you like a koala? That didn't happen very often.

You sighed, a small smile on your face as Izuku rambled about his hero training with All Might while sitting on your lap. You would think that the gender roles would normally be reversed, but the green-haired boy didn't give a single fuck. He got to be in your personal space and was making sure you couldn't move from your spot by pinning you with his weight.

But you didn't really care that much, he was like a heavy teddy bear and you were really comfortable in your spot on his bed.

The next few days consisted of him holding your hand, giving you I love you so much please marry me platonic kisses on the cheek, forehead, and hands. He would literally become your backpack as you carried him around the entire day. Piggyback rides were normal between you two, anyway.

Overall Izuku would initiate more physical touch in hopes of being able to be closer to you.

Another thing Izuku likes to do when he gets jealous is by having you wear his clothes and colors.

It could be wearing matching bracelets with your favorite colors, borrowing his All Might themed shirts and hoodies, or it could even be him stealing your shirts, too. The last one always made you giggle because of how much your best friend liked your fashion taste.

It totally wasn't because he was desperately in love with you and wanted to be seen as yours.

There was another tactic Izuku liked to use, and it was more of a fun game, really. He would paint different shades of green onto your skin.

You both would have a great time, trying to paint on each other's skin while giggling and feeling ticklish by the brush and paint. You would do flowers, mini All Might faces, and you once painted a giraffe on Izuku's back.

The both of you would burst into fits of laughter the entire time, and Izuku decided to paint his name onto your arms. His first name on your left bicep, and his last name on your right. The greenette cackled and blushed when you flexed your arms at his finished work.

These two things were very sweet and endearing, showing how much Izuku cared for you and how he didn't want any other man to think they had a chance. They both worked well and made other guys back off, but when they didn't work, well...

Izuku had to resort to the third way. And that was only when a guy was starting to really piss him off.

We all know how observant Izuku is, and how he writes down everything in his journals to learn more about something. Izuku had somewhat a bad habit of being obsessive, and whenever you were involved,

Izuku made sure that everyone knew what was his.

You would never be thought of as an object or thing to Izuku, but the way he slammed a man onto the concrete floor when he tried to touch you, would seem otherwise.

Emerald eyes were wide with fury, the energy of One For All crackling around him. The man on the floor gasped for air, feeling threatened by the supposed savior of the Paranormal Liberation war.

Blood was dripping from the greenette's knuckles, staring down coldly at the scum near his feet. The scum who had the guts to try and take advantage of you.

Y/n.

His y/n.

Izuku sneered in disgust, kicking the man in the gut as the bastard flew back, wincing in pain as he was in shock.

"I'll make sure you won't touch her ever again." Izuku rasped, a crazed smile on his face as he knelt down to the man cowering in fear.

After the war, not only has he almost lost his quirk, Kacchan, and his friends, he almost lost you. The doctors said you almost didn't make it, and something in Izuku just snapped.

The green-haired boy began to hyperventilate, panicking at the thought of living in a world without you, in a world where you weren't his.

And some asshole thought he could take advantage of you?

Izuku laughed, crazily as he looked borderline insane to the bloodied man on the floor. The man froze, shivering in fear when he made eye contact with the greenette. There was a glint in those cold emerald eyes, something feral as Izuku stood up, a smile no longer on his face as he clenched his fists. The energy of One For All becoming more powerful as he raised his fist.

Midoriya Izuku would die for anyone, but he would only kill for the people he loved. You were on the top of that list.

Blood-curling screams were heard in that dark alleyway as Izuku beat the man to death, his fists coated in blood as there was a psychopathic look in his eye the entire time.

Love was a powerful emotion.

"Hey, Izuku! I didn't know you would be back so early!" You chirped, going on to hug your best friend, wrapping your arms around his neck as he giggles, giving you the sweetest smile with hearts in his eyes.

Izuku relaxes into the hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he buries his face into your neck; sighing as he inhales your comforting scent. The one he's secretly addicted to.

"Yeah, I thought it would take longer because of the traffic, but I'm glad I got those... errands done tonight." Izuku mumbles, a cold glint in his eyes as he stares at the floor, a grin growing on his lips at the memory of dumping the body into someplace where nobody would care to look.

Izuku pulled away a bit, flashing you a lovesick smile as his pupils seemed to have hearts in them when you looked at him. Scarred hands cup your cheeks as you smile and giggle when he presses platonic kisses all over your face.

"Izu! Cut it o-out!" You laugh, feeling the pads of his fingers tickle your neck, leaving you gasping for air but leaving you with the biggest smile.

He could feel his heart leap at the sight.

The green-haired boy giggles, pulling back as he grabs your hand and leads you towards the couch to watch a movie.

Izuku had three ways to deal with jealousy, but you were always the person that made him feel better afterwards.

the accuracy omg 😭

𐙚 ⋮ᴀᴄᴛ ɪ ꒱ ‧₊˚

⋮ ♯; ⤷ KATSUKI BAKUGO headcanons .ᐟ

⋆˚࿔ what would he be like as your boyfriend?

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

⌗ he won’t admit it, but he always keeps an eye on you. if he thinks someone is bothering you, his first instinct is to throw hands, but he reins it in (most of the time) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ this man is ride or die for you. the second he’s in a relationship, you’re his and he’s yours—no one else exists in his mind ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he’s not the biggest fan of PDA, but in private? he’s all over you. loves holding you in a way that makes you feel his warmth, whether it’s spooning you from behind or resting a hand on your waist absentmindedly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he’s a doer. if you’re feeling down, he’ll yell at you to take care of yourself, but when you’re genuinely sick and he can’t just fix it? he gets frustrated and sulky, pacing around the room while forcing you to drink water like it’s a life-or-death situation. he’ll even let you rest your head on his lap while pretending he totally doesn’t enjoy it ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ before dating, he never thought much about sleep. but after? if you’re not in bed with him, he tosses and turns all night. if he’s away on missions, he hates it because no matter how exhausted he is, sleep just doesn’t hit the same. if you ever find out, he will deny it to his grave ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he doesn’t go for the usual “words of affirmation” or “acts of service.” instead, his love language is teaching you things. whether it’s self-defense, cooking, or fixing something, if he’s taking the time to teach you his skills, it means he trusts you enough to know what he knows ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ you could be doing the most mundane thing—reading, scrolling on your phone, folding laundry—and he’ll just watch you without realizing it. if you catch him, he’ll grumble and look away, but he was totally zoning out admiring you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ you wouldn’t expect it, but one day, you’re struggling with a messy ponytail, and he just sighs and fixes it perfectly. turns out, he used to help his mom tie up her hair when he was a kid. he still acts like it’s no big deal, but if you ask him to do it again, he secretly loves it ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ his hands are constantly moving—tapping on the table, against his leg, drumming on random surfaces. but if he’s thinking about you specifically, his fingers will start mimicking the rhythm of your heartbeat (which he totally memorized without realizing) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he notices the tiny things. the way you always stretch before standing up, how you hum before you fall asleep, the specific way you take your coffee. if you ever forget something in your routine, he’ll absentmindedly remind you before realizing damn, I really memorized that, huh? ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ that dumb doodle you left on his notes? tucked in his wallet. the random trinket you gave him from a vending machine? sitting on his nightstand. he acts like he doesn’t care, but he never throws away anything that reminds him of you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ it doesn’t matter if you can lift a building, he is carrying the groceries, the luggage, and anything remotely heavy. you could be a pro hero, and he’d still be like, “shut up and let me do it.” ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ mitsuki loves you, but she also loves embarrassing her son. she’ll tease him about how whipped he is, telling you embarrassing childhood stories while bakugo fumes in the background. secretly, he’s glad she likes you, but he’ll never say it out loud ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ everyone knows bakugo laughs in that aggressive, cocky way. but when he’s with you? sometimes, he lets out a real, genuine, soft laugh that no one else gets to hear. if you ever mention it, he’ll turn bright red and tell you to shut up ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ who can fold laundry faster? who can chop vegetables better? who can get into bed first? he turns everything into a competition, and if you beat him? he’ll sulk for five minutes before demanding a rematch ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he won’t gush about you outright, but if you do something impressive? his friends will hear about it. “yeah, so what if they did that? they’re badass. of course they pulled it off.” he plays it cool, but everyone knows he’s beyond proud of you. if anyone even slightly doubts your abilities, he’ll shut them down instantly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Thinking about men who combat train/ extensive train in general a lot. Working out, often causing bruising on their body, especially hands and knuckles. You can sometimes see how insecure he feels when he withdraws his hands with hesitation before touching you. You can see in the way he is hesitant in holding your hands opting to guide you by the small of your back.

So you decide to reassure him in your own way, to infuse your affection in his bones. Even if he doesn’t openly show his insecurity. You can see the slight panic in his eyes when you take his hands in yours. The way you gently murmur soft praises, “You train so hard” or “You’ve grown so strong yeah?”

You see the wall slowly cracking as he starts to look at you expectantly, hoping for more praises, but why should only his ears hear the praises? So you decide to whisper praises into his skin, pressing your lips to his hands in the gentlest of kisses. Peppering kisses over his knuckles, his palm, the tips of his fingers and finally a sealing kiss on his wrist.

You look up to see fear in hushed eyes, fear of this moment ending, of the shattering of this breakable heaven.

When you’ve kissed every wound on his hands, you feel the tension still lingering in his frame, like a storm that hasn’t quite passed. You kiss his forehead and without a word, you guide him closer, letting your arms wrap around him until his head rests against your chest. His breathing is uneven, shallow, as if he’s afraid to let this moment break. You let him hear your heartbeat, letting him know that your heart spells out his name. He’s loved, he’s cared for and he’s yours.

──────────────────

Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven, please, let me bring my man- Young and Beautiful // Lana Del Rey

Megumi Fushiguro, Yuuji Itadori, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, Ken Sato, Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Sylus (L&DS), Miguel O’Hara +your favs!

a/n: posting twice on my bday 😌

Bakugo x Reader

Summery: Bakugo takes edibles given to him by Sero and gets high for the first time. You're his trip setter.

Authors note: I've never been high before so inaccuracies ahead. Also bakugo and reader are not together yet

Includes: Spidey Kiss and the audio:

"You wanna kiss me?" "Absolutely fucking kinda" "Call me pretty first" "You're pretty" "Whats pretty about me!?" "How you're not able to watch all your body glitter off?" "Ok slut kiss me"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sero gave him edibles Bakugo didn't think he'd even use them. In all honesty he liked the idea of getting high but that wasn't his thing so he just never did it. But during a hang out Sero and Denki were talking about their latest smoke sesh and Bakugo let it slip he'd never gotten high before.

Sero being the dealer of the group was immediately ready to hook his homie up.

"I don't even remember that conversation man we should take videos when we're high more often." Denki laughed at the video playing on Sero's phone that was taken at their last smoke sesh.

Bakugo sat near Kirishima, who was playing a video game, not fully listening but was curious about what they were doing. "Can't believe you guys find time to get high when your grades suck so bad." He grumbled, he heard Kirishima laugh a bit behind him.

"It's relaxing dude, it helps. Trust." Sero says matter-of-factly, his finger raised in the air mockingly. "How can that be relaxing?" Bakugo asks, genuinely curious. The pair look at their friend in shock, Sero speaks up first.

"We've been friends how long and I haven't hooked you up yet?" Bakugo shrugs, his attention already leaving the conversation. Some rustling caught it once again, Sero was digging in his backpack before pulling a bag out and tossing it at the blond.

"Here man." Bakugo looked at the contents of the bag in slight confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" He asks making his friends chuckle a bit. "They're edibles dude." Denki informs him.

Bakugo raises an eyebrow and looks over at the black haired teen, "you just keep these on you?" Sero nods his head and Kirishima chuckles a bit. "Uh yeah? Alway stay prepared."

"Prepared for what?" Bakugo questions. "This exact situation." Sero counters. "Just try it dude, trust me its good." Bakugo thinks for a minute before shrugging his shoulders and putting the bag in his backpack.

"Fair warning getting high is different for everyone and most people's first times suck. Might want to have someone with to be the designated sober person, actually nah make someone your trip sitter." Sero explained to a confused Bakugo but he slowly nodded his head in understanding.

"That sounds like a lot of work." He says unsure. Denki rolls his eyes, "Just ask y/n."

Bakugo flickers his eyes open to see the sight of your dorm room....from the floor? Taking in his surroundings he realizes he's leaned up against your bed on the floor. He shuffled around for a bit, mind woosey and slurred.

Your face comes into veiw atop the bed, laying on your stomach. "Goodmorning sunshine, have a nice nap?" The raised brow Bakugo give you makes you giggle. "After you threw up we brushed your teeth, cuz you complained your mouth tasted bad and then you promptly fell asleep before I could get you on the bed."

You explain with a slight teasing tone. Bakugo nods along but doesn't quite hear the words. More focused on how your mouth moves and looks. You must have seen him starting because you chuckle and lean your head over his.

"Do you wanna kiss me Kats?" Bakugo blushed a bit at that, your teasing voice making him flustered. His thoughts were a bit scrambled but thoughts of you were the most prominent. So what came out was the first thing that came to mind.

"Absolutely fucking kinda." His head lulled back to rest on the bed you layed on, looking up at you. Your humored laugh filled the dorm. "Tell me I'm pretty first." You said looking down at him with a smile. Your mouth was close to his, practically brushing lips with yours.

Bakugo peered into your eyes, "you're pretty." He leans forward but you lean back, making it so he can't kiss you. In confusion he looks you in the eyes to see you rolling them, "What's pretty about me?" You specify.

Bakugi thinks for a minute his scrambled thoughts leave nothing for him to think of except he knows you're pretty. "Um....how you're never able to fully wash the body glitter from your hero costume all the way off?"

He says it like it's a question more than an answer. But it makes you smile, you tilt you head to make it look like your thinking deeply about it.

"Ok slut, kiss me" your gentle hands grabbed his face, pulling it to yours at an awkward angle you would have been embarrassed about if it was any other time. The kiss wasn't long but held passion, a spark between your lips.

When you pulled away and moved your head so you could look into Bakugos red eyes they were half lidded and dazed. He had a dopey grin that made your stomach do a little twist. "I'd like to kiss you again." Bakugos voice was soft but his words blunt and honest.

"Is that ok?" He asked after a second of silence from you. Bakugos sweet words made your heart flutter and yearn for more. "Get off the floor first doofus."

HIII I love ur smaus and the way you write the characters are just ,,,,,jdjdjdjjs anwyas,, could u mayhaps pls do a Bakugou x romantically oblivious reader?? I just think the dynamic would be hilarious LOLL !! ty and hope u have a great day/night!! :)) <33

wait, are you flirting? | k. bakugo

bakugo is very obviously into you. you think he's just a strangely intense friend.

Situationship with Bakugo 😵‍💫

a situationship with katsuki bakugo would be chaotic, intense, and incredibly frustrating.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who's not the type to do things halfway, so the fact that he won’t fully commit (or admit his feelings) means he’s fighting himself the entire time.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who takes care of you in little ways—grabbing your favorite snacks when he’s out, making sure you get home safe, memorizing all your food orders from various places—but if you call him out on it, he’ll scoff and say, “tch. don’t think too much about it. it was just on the way.”

KATSUKI BAKUGO, where he’s got no problem pulling you into his lap, throwing an arm around you, or grabbing your wrist to keep you from walking away during an argument, only for you to cuddle right back into his arms again. "you always come back anyway. might as well stay where you belong."

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who will go out of his way to coincidentally be where you are, but if you ask, he’ll act like you’re the clingy one. "the hell are you lookin’ at me like that for? it’s a free fuckin’ country—you act like i’m followin’ you or somethin’. maybe you’re the one who can’t stay away."

KATSUKI BAKUGO, the man who kisses you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane but refuses to call it love. the man who pulls you into his arms after a rough day but won’t say he needs you. the man who gets pissed when other guys flirt with you, yet still won’t claim you as his. he knows they’ll never measure up to him.

but then, one day, you get tired of it. tired of the mixed signals, tired of feeling like you’re caught in something he refuses to name.

so you pull away. stop answering his late-night texts. stop letting him hold you like you’re his when he won’t even say the words. stop caring because what’s the point when he won’t admit he cares just as much?

at first, he acts like he doesn’t notice. like it doesn’t bother him. but it does.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who sees you laughing with someone else and his jaw tightens so hard it aches. he catches himself reaching for you before stopping short, fingers twitching like they’re fighting the habit of pulling you close. he sees you stop waiting for him and realizes, too late, that he never thought you would stop.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who stands at your doorway, all heat and tension, eyes burning like a wildfire ready to consume you whole. he doesn’t say a word at first, just grabs your wrist—gently, but firm enough that you can feel his frustration thrumming beneath his skin.

“you’re ignoring me,” he accuses, voice low and dangerous.

you lift an eyebrow. “i thought you didn’t care.”

his grip tightens just slightly before he lets go, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

he hates this. hates feeling out of control, hates that you make him feel anything at all.

but he’s done lying to himself.

“you think i don’t care? you think i don’t—” he cuts himself off, exhaling sharply through his nose.

you scoff, crossing your arms. "you sure as hell act like it. or is this just another one of your games?"

his jaw clenches. "it was never a damn game, sweets."

"then what was it, katsuki?" you throw your hands up. "because it sure as hell wasn't a relationship."

"you think i don’t—" he cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, pacing like he's physically fighting with himself. then he turns back to you. "damn it, i was trying!"

"trying what?" you challenge. "to string me along until you got bored? to keep me so that no one else could have me?"

"no! i was trying to—fuck—i was trying to figure it out! trying to—" he stops himself again, exhales hard through his nose, then looks at you, really looks at you. "trying to not fuck this up."

the words hang between you, heavy, aching.

your voice is softer now, but no less sharp. "and yet, you still did."

for a moment, he just stares at you. and then, before you can turn away, before you can push him out of your life completely, he closes the distance.

"no," he growls. "i'm not letting you walk away from me again."

you shake your head. "you already let me go."

"the hell i did!" his hands grip your arms, not to restrain but to hold on. "you think i don’t want you? that i don’t—"

he stops, sucks in a breath, and then—

he cups your face and kisses you. not like before. not out of desperation, not just because it’s easy. not like the heated, desperate, i need to feel something kisses he’s stolen in the past. this one is different.

raw, messy, everything he’s been too damn stubborn to say.

this one is real.

and when he pulls back, breathless, eyes blazing, he mutters, "you wanna know what this is? it’s me, fucking telling you, that i’m all in on this. now tell me you don’t want me, and i’ll walk."

you swallow, your own breath uneven. but you can’t say it. because you do. you always have.

and he knows it.

you stare at him, chest heaving, your lips still tingling from the force of his kiss. your mind is screaming at you to push him away, to remind him that he had months to figure this out, to tell him that it’s too late.

but your heart? your heart is beating so damn loud it drowns out the logic.

katsuki sees the hesitation, the war behind your eyes. he doesn’t rush you. for once, he doesn’t bulldoze his way through with brute force.

"you’re such a fucking asshole," you mutter, shoving at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

he exhales, a short, almost bitter laugh. “i know.”

you lick your lips, looking anywhere but at him. “you put me through hell, katsuki.”

“i know that too,” his voice is rough, but there’s no anger anymore. just quiet, painful honesty. he huffs, rubs a hand down his face before dropping it. “i was scared, sweets.”

you blink. katsuki bakugo, scared?

he sees the doubt flash across your face and scowls. “don’t. don’t look at me like that. like i don’t get to be scared of this—of you.”

your breath catches, and suddenly, the anger flares up again. “me? you were scared of me?”

“yeah,” he scoffs, eyes flicking between yours. "i ain't good at this shit, alright? but don't ever think for a second that i didn't want you."

your jaw tightens. "then why the hell did it take losing me for you to say it?"

something flickers across his face—regret, maybe. frustration. the words sound like they hurt to admit. "because i was a goddamn coward. because i didn't know how to have you without screwing it all up."

you stare at him, searching his face, waiting for the catch—for him to backtrack, for him to make another excuse. but he doesn’t.

instead, his grip on you softens, hands sliding down to your wrists, fingers brushing over your pulse. he watches you carefully, fingers grazing your wrist.

"tell me you don’t feel the same, and i’ll let you go. but if you do…” he leans in just slightly, gaze flickering to your lips. “then stop fighting me and let me be yours.”

and damn it—damn him—because you do. you always have.

your breath is unsteady, your chest tight as you stare at him. he looks like he’s ready for a fight, ready to prove himself, but you’re not making this easy for him.

he doesn’t deserve easy.

you step back, but he follows, unwilling to let space grow between you again. "if you really mean it, you’re gonna have to work for it."

his lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to say that. then, he huffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "fine. i will."

"you don’t even know what that means."

"doesn’t matter," his eyes burn with determination. "i’ll figure it out."

you study him, searching for hesitation, doubt—any sign that he’ll walk away the moment things get tough. but all you see is conviction, a stubborn resolve that’s so him it almost makes your chest ache.

still, you’re not going to let him think this is some quick fix.

"no more mixed signals," your voice is firm. "no more acting like i don’t matter just because you're scared of your own feelings."

his jaw clenches, but he nods. "yeah."

"and no more kissing me like i’m yours and then pretending it doesn’t mean anything."

his eyes darken slightly. "that one was never pretend."

you don’t give in just yet. you let the silence stretch, let him sit in it, let him feel the weight of what he’s asking for.

then, finally, you nod. "alright. then we’ll see."

from the moment you demanded he work for your trust, he treats it like the most important damn mission of his life.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who starts showing up—not just in the ways he used to, sneaking into your life with little gestures he refused to acknowledge. no, this time, he makes it clear.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who texts you good morning. goodnight. little things throughout the day that show you he’s thinking about you. "did you eat? i know you don’t like the coffee at work, so i left one for you on your desk, call me if you need a ride."

KATSUKI BAKUGO, where at work, he swings by your office under the pretense of “checking in,” but you catch the way his eyes linger, the way his fingers tap against your desk like he’s resisting the urge to touch you.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, when he knows you’re out with friends, he doesn’t pull the usual possessive coincidentally running into you routine. he lets you have your space but makes sure you get home safe. "text me when you’re back."

but the real proof is in the way he listens. the way he remembers.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who recalls things you mentioned offhandedly weeks ago—your favorite dessert from that bakery downtown, the dumb movie you wanted to watch but never got around to. one night, you mention offhandedly that you’ve been stressed, and the next day, he drags you out of your apartment. "c’mon. you need a break."

you expect something explosive, something him—but instead, he takes you to a quiet spot, lets you rant, doesn’t rush you. just listens.

and when you look at him, skeptical, waiting for him to make some kind of sarcastic remark, he just shrugs. "told you i was serious."

he never demands anything from you. never pushes you for an answer.

but one night, after another long day, after another moment where he reminds you, without words, just how much he’s changed—how much he’s trying—you finally give in.

you reach for his hand.

it’s tentative, just a light brush of your fingers against his. he looks down, then back up at you, something unreadable in his expression.

you squeeze lightly, voice quiet. "okay."

he blinks. "okay?"

you take a breath. "i believe you."

and for the first time in a long time, he smiles. really smiles.

then, with all the patience he’s learned just for you, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"’bout fuckin' time."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ hi!! a little something to publish bc i feel i havent been posting much like i've been before? js burnout from school and shit, also indulging my free time😭 hope you guys enjoy💜💜

Meme redraw >:)

Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!

── .✦ "IWAIZUMI HAJIME VS. WEDDING" — iwaizumi hajime

a/n : sorry for being inactive!! finally found motivation to write for haikyuu content : post timeskip. iwa crashing out. pre wedding. he’s so in love. seijoh 4. fluff. crack.

Iwaizumi Hajime doesn’t spiral.

He doesn’t pace. Doesn’t panic. Doesn’t start talking just to fill space. He’s the one people lean on. The level-headed one during a crisis.

Which is exactly why the Seijoh 4 are now watching him like he’s a science experiment gone wrong. The groom’s waiting room is too quiet. Tense. The kind of quiet that happens before someone snaps.

Oikawa, back from Argentina just for the wedding, sips sparkling water with the smugness of someone who saw this coming. Matsukawa is filming. Hanamaki looks both entertained and slightly afraid.

And our dear Iwaizumi paces. Mutters something to himself. Then—without warning—drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups in his suit.

Everyone stares.

"Everybody stay calm, he’s spiraling,” Matsukawa says.

“He doesn’t spiral,” Hanamaki replies, blinking. “I’ve never seen him spiral. This feels illegal.”

“I once saw Iwa-chan roll his ankle and tell me to breathe,” Oikawa says, horrified. “This is terrifying.”

“I’m not spiraling,” Iwaizumi mutters, chest nearly kissing the floor. “I’m keeping my heart rate in check.”

Push-up. Push-up. Push-up

“I’m grounding myself. This is tactical. I am not emotionally compromised.”

Push-up.

“She’s gonna look like a goddess and I’m gonna forget how to breathe.”

“What was that?” Oikawa asks.

“I said I’m fine, Shittykawa.” Oikawa blinks. “You haven’t called me that since we were 18. Oh god, he’s malfunctioning.”

Iwaizumi keeps going. “She’s gonna smile. At me. In front of everyone. And I’m gonna cry. I know I’m gonna cry. I can already feel it. It’s sitting right here—” he gestures to his throat, “like a threat.”

He stops and lays flat on the floor. The silence is deafening. “I’ve never seen him like this,” Hanamaki whispers.

“He cried when she said yes, didn’t he?” Matsukawa murmurs. “This is stage two.”

“I didn’t cry,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “I teared up. Briefly.”

“You FaceTimed me,” Oikawa adds. “There were tissues involved.”

“I was sick.”

”You were sniffling,” Oikawa corrects.

“It was February.”

Iwaizumi sits up slowly. “She’s gonna be in a dress. With her hair done. And makeup. She’s gonna walk toward me like she means it and I’m gonna stand there looking like I forgot how knees work. And then I’ll cry. And then she’ll cry. And I’ll ruin everything.”

Oikawa kneels and hands him a water bottle like it’s an offering to a storm god. “You’re in love. That’s not ruining anything.”

“I’m so in love,” Iwaizumi whispers, like a confession. “It’s making me physically ill.”

Hanamaki just nods. “That tracks. We’ve been waiting years for your emotional constipation to catch up.”

“Push-ups aren’t fixing it,” Matsukawa adds. “Try burpees.”

“I will throw up on your shoes.”

There was a knock on the door: “Five minutes.”

Iwaizumi stands. Adjusts his suit. Rolls his shoulders like he’s heading into combat. “I’m marrying my girl. My terrifying, gorgeous, brilliant girl.”

He turns to them, solemn.

“If I cry—don’t say anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hanamaki says.

“If I pass out—don’t catch me.”

“You’re gonna cry in, like, thirty seconds,” Matsukawa grins. “But you’re gonna look shredded in the photos.”

“I better.”

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