I Could Die Happy.

Date Nights with Bakugo Katsuki

Cooking - From the Date Night Series - requested by @briqnne

1.

“Oh my god, who taught you how to cut onions? Even my blind granny could do it better than that!” Bakugo groans, staring at the mauled onion in front of you. He opens his mouth to add insult to injury when he notices the quiver of your lips.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” you sniff, wiping your eyes. “That’s the onion. It wants revenge.”

Despite your brave face and stupid joke, he knows instantly that he fucked up.

He should have known that dating him of all people had been a stupid idea on your part. Maybe this is how you realize.

You sniffle once more, dealing the final blow to the dying onion before stepping back. “I’m sorry Katsuki. I lied to you. I have no clue what I’m doing.”

He sighs. “I shouldn’t have said something so mean either.”

“Oi,” you slap his cheek softly. “Don’t get soft on me now! That’s even worse.”

“I wasn’t getting soft!” He barks, his heart jumping when you giggle. Maybe not all is lost.

“I-” He looks down at the onion before grabbing another one from the pantry. “Here,” he takes your hands and guides you. “Careful, I don’t want any missing fingers.”

“Imagine, me with Shoji’s Quirk. That would be useful.”

“I don’t want any fingers in my food either,” Bakugo snarls lowly into your ear, grinning when you giggle once more.

You’re not the most graceful on the knives, he learns and you need a few rounds of instructions until you figure out how to properly peel the potatoes, but he finds himself calmer with each passing minute.

It doesn’t matter how long it will take them to finish this meal. It’s just for the two of you, anyway. And he’d rather hear your giggling than watch you stare silently into the meal he’s created on his own.

At least he thinks that until you ooh and aah after the first bite, glowing with pride that you helped create this “masterpiece”, as you call it.

“It’s just curry,” he wants to say, though he swallows it down at the sight of your happiness.

“What are we going to make next time?” You ask and he chokes on his bite, your tender look a little too much for his fragile heart.

Next time. There will be a next time.

-

2.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Katsuki grouses from the doorway, relishing in the nervous uptick of your shoulders.

“Nothing,” you mutter, doing your best to hide the freshly made batter.

“Cooking without me?” He steps closer, shoulders squared in the hopes of scaring you away from the stove. 

Though, you just giggle at his antics, snatching the bowl out of his reach.

“I was just prepping dessert,” you promise. “Nothing much.”

“And the potatoes?”

“I just peeled them,” you bat your eyelashes at him, all innocence. “I always peel the potatoes.”

“Sure,” he huffs. “But I like watching you do it.”

Your lips quirk into a smile as you stand there, five feet apart, a bowl pressed to your chest like you’re defending your firstborn from a dragon. “Controlling much?” You tease him, though he knows you know it’s not like that.

“You look really cute when you do it,” he admits, mainly because it lights a fire in your eyes when he does. “Poking your tongue out and all.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“The cutest,” he agrees, reaching for the bowl again. “Now, let me help? Please?”

“Fine,” you hand the bowl over. “All we need is to pour it. You can do that, oh Great Cookiemonster Dynamight.”

He snarls at that, though it’s mostly for show as he dips down to kiss you instead, swiping a finger through the batter on the way back to the stove. 

“What’s the verdict?”

“Nine out of ten.”

“Nine?” You slap his ass with the kitchen towel. “Please, that was a solid ten!”

Katsuki turns, eyeing you carefully. “No. You’re a nine and I’m the one you need.”

Crédits artist @ng_a10

Percy is just lil guy, chat (literally one of the strongest demigods out there)

Iwaizumi is shamelessly in love with you. Every time you place a sweet kiss to his lips or his face, and leave your lipgloss/lipstick stain on him he refuses to wipe it off. The first time you noticed your lipstick stains on Iwa was after you had kissed his cheek while you were getting ready to leave for work. You had left before him, and you thought that he must have wiped it off before heading to the gym since his start time was later than yours. You were surprised to see the stain perfectly in tact when Iwa comes home later that day. You flush realizing that the whole team must have been teasing him all day over it. You don't feel guilty for too long when you see the wide smile gracing his face and how his attitude seems more laid back than usual. He likes having physical proof that you love him, and that he is yours. Some days when you leave your sweet lip gloss on his lips, he can't help but lick off the sweet residue remaining which always makes you flustered. Iwa thinks your lipgloss is sweet, but he thinks your lips are sweeter.

welcome back to frat boy, bf! katsuki, but you're taking a nap and you miss his calls for the first time...

k<3 :

u home yet??

2 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

yo. you said you were leavin class 20 mins ago.

stopped somewhere?

4 missed calls – the loml <333

k<3 :

sweet girl. answer me

not fuckin playin

7 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

i swear to fuck if ur phone died again im gonna duct tape a charger to ur bag

10 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

come on

please

just text me

by the time the clock ticks past 10 minutes, katsuki’s spiraling.

he’s already speed-walked home from campus—snarled at kirishima when he offered to tag along, ignored denki yelling something about pizza—and practically slammed the front door open.

he checks every room with increasing panic.

kitchen? empty. bathroom? lights off. your shoes? by the door. your bag? slung carelessly on the couch.

his heart’s in his throat now. he storms to the bedroom and—there you are.

sprawled out across the bed in your favorite hoodie (his, of course), wrapped in a nest of blankets like some cozy little shit, hair a mess, cheek smushed into the pillow. dead to the world.

katsuki just stops in the doorway. halfway between furious and relieved. he exhales so hard it sounds like a curse, raking a hand through his hair. “fuckin’ hell, woman.”

he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, the tiny puff of breath from your lips, the faint twitch of your fingers as you shift slightly, still completely out of it.

he pads over slowly and crouches beside the bed, bracing himself on the edge of the mattress. just watching you sleep like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen and the most infuriating thing he’s ever dealt with.

you don’t even stir.

“called you ten fuckin’ times,” he whispers, brushing your hair away from your face gently, thumb lingering at your temple. “had my heart about to claw outta my chest.”

he glares down at your peaceful expression. “you couldn’t send one goddamn text?”

you snore a little.

he huffs out a soft, involuntary laugh and leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, voice rough now—not angry, just overflowing with that messy blend of worry and love and the kind of fear he doesn’t even want to name.

“you scared the shit outta me,” he says, voice barely audible now.

he kicks off his shoes, strips down to his hoodie, and climbs into bed beside you, dragging you into his chest like he needs to feel your heartbeat under his palm.

and maybe he does.

he buries his face in your neck, breathes you in, and closes his eyes—like maybe if he holds you tight enough, you’ll never slip away without him noticing again.

“you ever ignore my calls again, i’m gonna kill you… then bring you back just to yell at you.”

it takes a minute for your senses to catch up. the first thing you register is warmth—a lot of it. the solid wall of heat behind you, the weight of an arm slung heavy around your waist, a hand gripping your thigh like it belongs there.

you blink awake slowly, the sunlight slicing through the curtains, warm and golden against your cheek. your mouth is dry. your head is foggy. your entire body feels like it sank into the mattress and refused to surface again.

you open your eyes fully, only to find katsuki awake. already looking at you. already scowling.

he’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, messy blonde hair sticking up in every direction. his eyes are sharp—wide-awake, unblinking, trained directly on your face.

“you almost died.”

you blink. “what?”

“you almost died,” he repeats flatly, voice low and grumpy. “that’s the only excuse i’ll accept.”

you shift slightly, throat dry. “what are you—?”

“my calls,” he snaps, cutting you off. “my texts. ten fuckin’ calls, sweets. not a single goddamn word.”

you glance over at your nightstand. your phone is there. fully charged. blinking with a whole list of missed notifications.

“oh my god.”

your brain stutters through memories. class had wiped you out. you’d come home, tossed your stuff down, meant to take a quick nap—and clearly crashed harder than you thought. hard enough to sleep through ten calls and a boyfriend having a full panic spiral.

you roll onto your back, face him, voice small. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t answer. you could’ve passed out, gotten jumped, gotten hit by a fuckin’ car for all i knew.”

your stomach turns with guilt. “i’m sorry…”

he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face, frustration fading into something a little softer. “i came home ready to break the door down. thought i’d find you hurt or... i dunno... fuck.”

his voice breaks a little on that last word.

your chest aches. you sit up slowly, sliding into his lap and cupping his face with both hands. he doesn’t resist. just leans into you, his arms wrapping tight around your waist like he needs you right there, like it’s the most natural place for them to be.

“i just passed out,” you whisper. “like… sleep coma status.”

“you didn’t even flinch,” he mutters. “thought i was gonna have to check your pulse.”

you snort softly. “i was probably dreaming about you yelling at me.”

he squeezes your thigh, resting his forehead to your collarbone. “not funny. you’re not allowed to scare me like that again.”

you can feel his heart thudding against your chest—still fast, still a little shaken. you lean against him and whisper, voice quiet: “what happens if i do scare you again?”

he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. something soft settles in his expression. that sharp edge in his gaze dulls just a little—not gone, but mellowed, focused. it’s the look he only gives you, like you’re the only thing on the planet worth softening for.

he thinks for a second.

“first,” he says, tone completely serious. “i panic. obviously.”

you snort.

“then,” he continues, brushing a thumb along your jaw, “i break into your phone, make it so the ringtone screams your name at full volume. every time. forever.”

you giggle. “that’s horrifying.”

“i’m not done,” he deadpans. “next, i put a gps tracker in your backpack. and your keychain. and maybe your bra.”

you raise a brow. “my bra?”

“don’t question my methods, woman. i need intel.”

you laugh again, leaning fully into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. he goes quiet. arms wrap tighter around you, firm and warm.

“maybe... i’d hold you like this,” he says, low and sure. “and not let go for a long time.”

you close your eyes as his hand slides up your back, smoothing slow circles into your spine. the rest of the world fades out, tucked away beneath the weight of his embrace and the soft beat of his heart against your cheek.

“and,” he adds, voice barely a whisper now, “i’d make sure you never forget how much you matter to me.”

your throat tightens a little. you bury your face deeper in his neck, smile trembling.

“okay,” you breathe.

“yeah?” he murmurs, holding you a little closer.

“yeah. i promise not to scare you again."

there’s a beat of silence. then—

“good,” he mutters. “’cause i might start showing up to your classes and shit.”

you snort into his shoulder, brushing your fingers through his messy hair. “i promise i’ll keep my phone on ring from now on.”

“you better,” he grumbles, then pauses. “swear to god, i aged five years in seconds.”

you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “you’ll still be hot, even gray.”

he gives you a dry look. “tch. you’re lucky i love with you.”

you grin. “i know.”

his eyes narrow. “oh, do you now?”

and that’s when it happens—he pulls back just enough to stare at you, eyes narrowed, before reaching up and squishing your cheeks between both hands, mushing your lips into a pout.

“you have to say it back,” he barks, holding your face like a grumpy old man scolding a puppy, his thumbs digging into your squishy cheeks. “or i’ll keep doin’ this.”

you try to speak, but it just comes out as a muffled, “i lubb youuuu.”

he snorts, his grin slowly tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“i love you more, sweet girl,” he mutters, releasing your cheeks.

your lips are still puffed out from where he squished your cheeks, but he kisses them anyway—warm and slow and just a little too soft for someone who was grumbling about murder five minutes ago.

his palm stays on your jaw, thumb brushing lazily along your cheekbone, as if he’s still making sure you’re real. your cheeks are still tender from where he squished them, the warmth of his palm lingering.

you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you let yourself melt a little further into him.

wrapped up in warmth and safety and the ridiculous, overprotective heart of the boy who loves you more than he knows what to do with.

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

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ this happened to me last week and i missed the opportunity to buy what i want from mcdonalds 💔 (the minecraft toys here are ASS) hope you guys enjoyed, also how do i make them fuck any suggestions 👉👈

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“gotta be more careful, sweet girl.”

you glare. “I am careful. but accidents happen.”

percy throws you a look to skepticism before placing his lips over the first bandaid around your middle finger. it’s a blue one with sharks.

then, he goes to the second cut on your index, no bandaid over this as it’s healing. he kisses it nonetheless. and then next, a moderately bigger cut on your thumb— you had tried to cut an apple but slipped drastically.

that one would eventually leave a scar, you were sure of it.

percy gingerly rubs his own thumb over it before pressing his mouth to it additionally. “I’m never letting you cut an apple again.”

your glare returns. “that’s not fair.”

“I’m trying to be chivalrous here, sweet girl, work with me.”

you roll your eyes with a scoff. “yeah, but I’m a grown woman, I can handle it.”

“okay,” percy says unconvincingly with a light nod. “but I don’t want you hurt.”

you sigh. your gaze softens as you meet his green eyes. “I know.”

“yeah? good.” his tone is teasing but his smile is too genuine for you not to return it.

cabin three obtains an intimate, comfortable silence. percy’s gaze falls to your tangled hands, his thumb grazes your cuts with such delicacy you could cry. you bite down on your bottom lip.

which, coincidentally, you also had a cut over. only this time, it was percy who had gave it to you.

you let your own eyes fall to your boyfriend. he appears content as ever. like a golden retriever with a new bone. except he’d always look at you like he was doing so for the first time ever.

that’s despite being together for six years.

“percy,” you whisper, afraid of speaking any louder.

he looks back up at you within an instant. “my sweet girl.”

those damn butterflies…

you shrug faintly. “I love you.”

a smile graces his lips. his eyes, hazy yet sparkling. it reminds you of the glistening sea reflecting off of the summer sun. “I love you, too.”

you blush feverishly and pull your legs up to your chest. your cheek rests against your knee. “to neptune and back?”

percy shakes his head. “not far enough.”

fair enough.

boyfriend hcs k. bakugo

type of person to say " no get it yourself " and then do it for you as he's saying that

shows his love through actions

but if you bring it up he will deny it like his life depends on it

probably has really sweaty hands because of his quirk

and he's insecure about it when you hold his hands

but he will NEVER admit it

when people talk over you he completely ignores them and just stares at you until you continue ur story

but he'll act uninterested

his friends WOULD tease him about how down bad he is but also they don't rlly wanna get blown up

Begging for a Katsuki and Eijiro version of them being teased

I’m so in love with your writing omfg

katsuki getting frustrated with your teasing

katsuki was insanely sensitive to touch, always noticing even when you slightly brushed by him. however, he would always pull you back, expecting a kiss or some more affection before he let you go.

because of his sensitivity, you decided to tease him more. it couldn’t hurt, right? surely it wouldn’t do so much to him, after all, it would be a harmless joke.

so when you began to slowly run your hands down his back or chest, he would feel so much, your fingers grazing over his scars and through his clothes. he could hardly help himself, and when he was in the hallways of UA, or walking down the streets on patrol, he would still feel your hands all over his body. he blamed you for how he suddenly turned touch-deprived.

of course, katsuki wouldn’t admit his yearning to anyone but you. he missed your touch at all times, trying to imitate your hands with his own, rough ones, whether it was placing his hand on his chest like how you would, or running down his hand up and down his bicep.

but it never felt like you, and he needed your touch. he didn’t care what you did or how you did it, but he needed you, needed to feel you.

something was off. you always placed teasing touches on him, especially when his friends were around. were you trying to catch him off guard? were you just trying to embarrass him, show his friends how he really was around you?

so when you finally sat yourself on his lap, straddling his thick thighs, he nearly lost it. you ran your hands down his scarred and muscular chest, placing teasing kisses on his neck. you were driving him insane with how you were touching him, and you even knew how sensitive he was, how every touch affected him so much.

once you ran your hand down his stomach, katsuki shuddered and grabbed your wrist, “the fuck are you doing?”

you mumbled, “‘m not doing anything, kats,” and continued with your small and gentle touches.

“mm, stop—“ he muttered, trying to bite down the soft sighs that came out of his mouth, feeling too comfortable around you.

you pulled away, knowing it wasn’t what he really wanted, causing a string of curses to leave his mouth. he gently shoved your head back into his neck, begging for more kisses. he grunted once you didn’t continue, and you let out a small chuckle.

eventually, you kissed katsuki’s neck and jawline, hands sitting on his shoulders, and his hands on your hips. he mumbled, “you damn tease,” and softly laughed, rubbing your back up and down.

if only you knew how much your affect on him stretched.

i’m so glad you love my writing, i genuinely appreciate it so much. i’ll make a separate writing for eijiro being teased :)

bakugo never meant to get this distracted. seriously. it wasn’t his fault.

it was yours.

because every damn time you sat in front of him, every time you rested your chin on your palm, every time you furrowed your brows while scribbling something in your notebook—he got stuck. like, full-on, brain-short-circuiting, totally-useless kind of stuck.

he should be paying attention. should be listening to aizawa’s lecture. should be taking notes instead of memorizing the way the sunlight caught in your hair or how your lips pursed when you were thinking.

but no. instead, he was sitting here, burning every little detail of you into his brain like some lovesick idiot. the curve of your nose, the way your fingers absentmindedly twirled your pen, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when it fell into your face.

he was so screwed.

“bakugo.”

his whole body stiffened. aizawa was staring at him, unimpressed.

“what?” he snapped, maybe a little too defensive.

“i asked you a question.” aizawa sighed. “maybe if you stopped zoning out, you’d know the answer.”

a few people chuckled, and bakugo’s face heated up—not because he was embarrassed, but because you turned your head just a little, just enough to glance at him.

for half a second, your eyes met his.

and fuck, that half-second nearly killed him.

then you turned back around, totally unaware of how wrecked he was, how his heart was still beating too damn fast, how his hand was gripping his pencil like it owed him money.

this was getting ridiculous.