Sleepy Make Out Session With Katsuki!

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 👉👈

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.”

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

TAGLIST (OPEN). / @ayatakanosstuff @angelkiyo @honeycrispappletree @itsmeaudrieee

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 :)

SECRET LANGUAGE!

synopsis: you and katsuki have a.. special way of communicating.

a/n: i genuinely do the whole 'not say anything js whine and groan until someone gets it' thing and sometimes ppl are confused but i feel like childhood friends + unofficial bf katsuki would just get it

"man, that was so tiring!" kirishima said, collapsing on a common area couch.

"all might sure worked us hard.." ochako added, exhaustion evident in her voice.

the rest of the class all nodded their heads in agreement, too exhausted to talk properly as they all slumped on the couches.

the room fell into a brief silence as everyone took a moment to relax and unwind after the grueling training. after a few minutes, the chatter started up again. they discussed the latest training exercises and something about all might and pro heroes and the possibility of starting a hero agency but honestly, you weren’t really listening. you were exhausted, too worn out to focus or engage properly with the conversation. you sat there silently, sort of just spacing out.

you were snapped out of your trance by a nudge to your shoulder. glancing up, it was katsuki looking down at you, a smidge of concern in his eyes.

"you ok?" he asked in a rare moment of quietness, his voice low and gravelly. "you've been out of it for a while now."

you took a second before you groaned, pushing your head into his shoulder, too tired for words. he made a ghost of a snicker at your antics, smiling down at you gently. (he denies denies denies tho)

"nnnnnghhh. mmmmmm!" you whined.

"i know, i know." he muttered.

"uuuurghhhhh, euuuuhm!"

"you wanna go back to your dorm and take a nap if it's that bad?"

"m. mmmmmmm! ...mmm?"

"hell no! i'm tired, too, and i'm not walkin' all the way to the damn convenience store."

you looked up at him, exhaustion and pleading in your eyes.

he looked back at you.

you kept on looking at him.

he kept on looking at you.

you shoved your head into his neck and nuzzled a bit, silently pleading with him.

finally, he sighed, getting up and rolling his eyes. you squealed in excitement, clapping your hands excitedly. he used one arm to swoop you up and trudged out of the common area with you, muttering about how were "such a damn pain" and "so fuckin' lazy." of course, he would never have it any other way, though. not that he'd ever admit that.

bonus:

unbeknownst to the two of you, as you were in your own little world, but mina had gotten a clip of the confusing but cute interaction, and sent it to the whole 1a groupchat.

kirishima: NO WAY

kaminari: BAKUGO?!?!?!?!?! BEFORE ME?!?!?! 🥲🥲🥲😫😫😫😫😫💔💔💔💔💔

todoroki: I'm confused. What is she saying? What just happened?

...

jirou: idk

momo: it's certainly a mystery

midoriya: kacchan and y/n have always talked like that! it's like a secret language!

sero: i think 'talking' requires back and forth conversation..

mina: WHO CARES? it's cute!

masterlist

𐔌 ✧.* ᴛʀᴜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ || A compilation of her favorite nicknames that he rarely uses! 

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, no smut or angst, short oneshot, dating au, soft bkg, words of affirmation, praise galore, 375 word count

It's the terms of endearment that make her feel like a flustered school girl on a random tuesday.

An accidental slip of his tongue when he spontaneously mumbles rare forms of praises — it doesn't happen often — but when it does... oh she goes crazy all right.

Like whenever their training and she finally manages to land a solid hit on him?

He grins, completely unbothered that you made his nose bleed.

"There she is... 'atta fucking girl."

Or whenever you solve a math problem correctly?

His crimson eyes scan the worksheet — zeroing in on the unnecessary long equation — giving it a quick once over before handing it back with an invisible smile.

Rubbing your head gently as his fingers caress every spot.

"Finally did it on yur' own hah? Good job baby."

And what about when you show him the little doodles you did in your notebook?

His focus seems to be all over the paper, admiring every little pencil marking and detail he could find.

"Didn't know ya' could draw, looks just like the real thing hun."

Oh! How could she forget his looks of admiration whenever she gave him an outfit of the day?

Giving him a small twirl to show off her new dress — one that he got from his dad's fashion line — only to get five more of the same style a few days later, but in different colors.

It happened so often, she had no choice but to confront him for overfilling her closet, yet his response always stayed the same.

"Hah? Not my fault everything looks great on you, princess."

But her favorite moments?

It's the ones where he speaks of her, when he thinks she's not there.

She didn't mean to eavesdrop — she truly didn't — but when one of their classmates brings up her name, asking him — in a joking manner — why he's always so calm with her, she silently listens behind the wall.

His voice remains unsteady and surprisingly tender.

"Because she's my girlfriend."

Nothing else had to be said.

Those three words could be considered nothing special for anybody else, but to her it held meaning, spoken as if her being his meant just that.

That her being his girlfriend was enough reason to be gentle.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

ᴀ/ɴ ||| omg srry for the late post, I totally forgot but here is a short drabble! I just finished the first draft of the bkg fic for his birthday and it’s over 2k words so be prepared for major fluff! (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ||| katsuki bakugo x f!reader (fluff) ᴛᴀɢꜱ ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin @sunnyalmighty — ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

i love men who look like theyve been through some of the most horrendous shit ever sorry

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.

"we should have brought bread," your boyfriend signs to you with a frown, his eyes on the ducks waddling just a few feet away. you and katsuki had left the house just before sunset to relax by the lake on a wooden bench and enjoy the view as the ducks ran around.

you hum, latching onto his arm. "next time." you mouth to him, pecking his chin.

katsuki exhales, nodding lightly. he wraps his beefy arm around you, pulling you into his warm figure. he feels the breeze whisper against you both, some of your hair blowing into his face. he scrunches up his nose at the ticklish sensation, pushing your hair back down as you grin up at him.

you readjust yourself a bit so you can raise both hands. "the ducks are loud." you tell him, mouthing the words as you sign.

he rolls his eyes, actually thankful he's unable to hear. he knows he can speak to you verbally, he doesn't have to stay quiet. it's an odd thing though... he prefers to not say anything. he's comfortable the way everything is. especially in moments like these, where words aren't even enough to describe what he's feeling.

katsuki turns his head to look back at you, not even a bit surprised that you're already staring at him intently. he can't even fight the little grin that makes its way onto his face. he brings up his fingers, doing the "cmere" movement as you lean forward and he grabs your chin, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

۪ ݁ 𓈒♡ㅤthinking about him rn what if i sob

Speaks for itself